tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30722728638398583602024-03-05T22:26:58.107-08:00kader thoughtsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-79216935555090817862016-07-27T10:21:00.000-07:002016-07-27T10:33:36.683-07:00Power of the TongueI stepped out of my gray mini van and walked around the back to the passenger side to get Sully out. As I unbuckled him and looked up I saw Bobby, a sweet older gentleman that I see at the Y. As he pulled out I waved and smiled. He stopped and when I pushed my sunglasses off my face and onto my head Bobby gave me the biggest smile. He said, "Wow I didn't recognize you! You look great! You have really been working hard! How much weight have you lost?"<br />
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That conversation left my heart smiling. Bobby always has kindness in his words and a warm and welcoming smile. I look forward to seeing Bobby at the Y. I look for him when I'm there because of his kindness. And he's not just like that to me. But to everyone I see him talk with. <i><b>Bobby chooses words that are life giving. Refreshing and warm at the same time.</b></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Words matter. </b></span></div>
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That old saying, <b><i>"Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me," is a lie.</i></b> <b>Words cut. </b>They can cut to the deepest parts of our hearts. The wounds they leave can linger for years.<br />
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I came home from the Y and as I was getting the boys out of the van a neighbor said hello. She walked over and I told her how we'd just come back from the Y. I joked (sort of) about how I'm still trying to lose baby weight from 2 years ago. Her response was, "Well, you were never thin to begin with. Right?"<br />
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Deep breath. Sigh. Grateful I had my sunglasses on so she couldn't see the tears forming in my eyes. <b>Words matter.</b> My words matter. Other people's words matter.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Proverbs 18:21 says, "The tongue has the power of life and death and those who love it will eat it's fruit."</span></b></div>
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<b><i>Life and death. In our words.</i></b> The power to wound or to lather on the healing salve of truth. I don't want fake flattery. I don't need someone to tell me I look good or that I've done something great. I believe we all should say what we mean but in grace and love and kindness. Because even when we need to speak harder truths they can be wrapped in grace. They can pass through a filter of love that makes them rich and loving. <b>Hard doesn't have to be mean. But mean will always be hard.</b> Love speaks hard truths and then walks the road alongside to healing and recovery and growth.<br />
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So, here's what I'm choosing to do today. To lay both of my encounters today before Jesus and I'm asking Him to speak to me today. And I'm asking Him where I have failed at speaking with words of grace and asking to be given opportunities to speak grace and truth and kindness to someone.<br />
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<i><b>Our words will leave us in one of two categories- those people seek out and look forward to seeing because our words bring life. Or those people turn away from and avoid because our words bring death.</b></i> What are you bringing today dear one? Let's be people who bring life. Who speak life.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Let's eat the fruit and bear the consequences of words of life today!</b></span></div>
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<h1 class="passage-display" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue", verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 20px; text-align: center;">
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; padding-right: 10px;">Proverbs 18:21</span><span class="passage-display-version" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline;">Amplified Bible (AMP)</span></h1>
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<span class="text Prov-18-21" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><b>Death and life are in the power of the tongue,</b></span></div>
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<b>And those who love it <i style="box-sizing: border-box;">and</i> indulge it will eat its fruit <i style="box-sizing: border-box;">and</i> bear the consequences of their words.</b></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-60418739095348494342015-02-22T18:33:00.000-08:002015-02-22T18:38:23.147-08:00The Hope of Heaven<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A note that one of the nurses or volunteers from<br />the comfort care home wrote to my grandma</td></tr>
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I have been so hesitant to write this post. Partially because it feels too big. Too many feels (that word is for you, Carrie!!). But then I came across this picture when I was going through kid pictures tonight and I knew I had to write it.<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">On February 3, on her 87th birthday, my sweet Grandmother went to Heaven.</span></b></div>
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She left this earth and her frail body and came face to face with the One who created her, who knit her together in her mama's womb, who loves her and calls her by name. <b>Face to face with Jesus. Could there be a greater birthday gift than that?</b> Could you ask for a better birthday celebration than that?<br />
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Ryan came home from work that day and after he hugged me something fierce he looked me in the eyes and said, "Grandma would always say, 'God has your birth date and the day you die written down. Only He knows.'" I love that hers were the same day.<br />
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So many of you have reached out to me. I've received cards and facebook messages and hugs and meals and emails and I am incredibly grateful. So incredibly grateful. And humbled. And so I need you to really hear this next part- I'm ok. I am. Your words, your love have made my heart smile in this difficult season but this is the part I need you to hear- <b>the hope of Heaven changes everything.</b><br />
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We are given but a few short moments in this life. And whatever day we die I imagine it will seem all too soon- maybe for us, but definitely for those that love us.<b> </b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">And as I walked beside my grandmother her last six weeks she taught me something- loving well matters. </span></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma (laughing) and Aunt Sue on Christmas Eve</td></tr>
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She could have made the last six weeks about her. She could have been entitled and no one would have blinked. She could have lamented and cried out how unfair cancer is. But she didn't. Do you know what she did do? <b>She looked people in the eyes- her doctors, her nurses, the volunteers at the comfort care home, and she thanked them.</b> And she wouldn't let their hand go until they looked her in the eye back and said, "You're welcome."<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>She loved until the end.</b> </span></div>
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Frail and tiny in her bed, when the cancer became too much to bear and she was on pain meds that made her sleep most of the time, she woke up while I sat beside her and told me how special I was to her, grabbed my hand, told me she loved me and I saved her. I told her that I loved her back and that she saved me. And in her frail, sweet voice she said, "Well, then I guess we're even."<br />
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That was the last interaction I had with her before she went to Heaven. My heart floods with gratitude that God so graciously gave me that moment with her. I will ponder that in my heart and treasure it every day I walk this side of Heaven, until I meet Jesus face to face and then get to hug my Grandma.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>We're all living for something.</b> </span></div>
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Some of us, we're even chasing something. It's easy to live for ourselves. It's easy to chase the next best thing. More money, a better car, a nicer, bigger house. The best school district for our kids, trendy clothes, an organic lifestyle. Whatever it is, let me share with you something else I learned these last few months. Those things don't matter. Dust in the wind. Because when you are faced with suffering and loss none of that would have changed a single, stinkin' thing. Not one.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">But Jesus, Jesus changes everything.</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXuyh1eFLpiY24rlHv8_yUAUWwJNVQj3PgDZssKtgpM-JvcMQQldkCUWCCJCvbqtJXblFniCubRS2FzizpWdu-8EacCrE-iFYmMQF9WkGVoYK2j3FSbsHPEdIAo6HEExf0FGPDeLKvMwU/s1600/IMG_3265.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXuyh1eFLpiY24rlHv8_yUAUWwJNVQj3PgDZssKtgpM-JvcMQQldkCUWCCJCvbqtJXblFniCubRS2FzizpWdu-8EacCrE-iFYmMQF9WkGVoYK2j3FSbsHPEdIAo6HEExf0FGPDeLKvMwU/s1600/IMG_3265.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a>Hope in the midst of loss. Joy in the midst of pain. Comfort in the midst of grieving. Life and peace during a season of death. Only God can do that. Stop chasing, sweet one. And rest, knowing that the God of the universe is bigger than whatever valley you may be walking through. He is bigger than your biggest hurt and so incredibly sweet. <b>May the sweetness of God cover you. He is tender.</b> <b>And His heart towards you is good.</b><br />
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<b>Romans 8:16-18</b><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="text Rom-8-16" id="en-NLT-28094" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">16 </span>For his Spirit joins with our spirit to affirm that we are God’s children.</span> <span class="text Rom-8-17" id="en-NLT-28095" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">17 </span>And since we are his children, we are his heirs. In fact, together with Christ we are heirs of God’s glory. But if we are to share his glory, we must also share his suffering. </span></span><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">18 </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">2 Corinthians 1:5</span></span></div>
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<span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">5 </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">For the more we suffer for Christ, the more God will shower us with his comfort through Christ.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-5094510939849732172015-01-25T19:11:00.000-08:002015-01-25T19:11:30.616-08:00Tears and HopeI walked into the comfort care home yesterday amid the normal hustle and bustle that precedes any wedding. My Aunt and her fiance were getting married and we made the drive from Buffalo to be there. There were more people than usual in the home and my in-laws made the drive with us so my father-in-law could take pictures of the wedding while my mother-in-law helped take care of the boys.<br />
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As I took off my shiny, pink coat and hung it in the closet my cousin Heather caught my eye from the half bath across from the foyer. I could see her blue eyes were red from crying and tears welled as she said, "DeeDee, it's bad today." Thoughts whirled through my mind as my expectations and my reality collided.<br />
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I walked back to my grandma's room. She laid in her bed, thin and frail. I walked over, took her hand and kissed her cheek. She couldn't get out of bed. My aunt dressed for the wedding in Grandma's room while I sat next to her bed. All I could think was how tiny she looked. And how incredibly hard this road is. I wrestled through wanting to fall to pieces and wanting to have it all together. I landed somewhere in the middle, where tears fell silently while every muscle in my body tightened.<br />
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She was in pain yesterday but didn't want to tell anyone to be a burden. And she didn't want to go in the living room for the wedding because she was so worried she would be the center of attention and not my aunt. The sweet nurse calmed her and they gave her an Ativan. In the end she was wheeled out for the ceremony even though she slept through it all.<br />
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My grandmother has never sat on the sidelines of life. While she was never one for the direct spotlight she was always the one making a new friend, talking with people, telling stories and laughing. But there she sat at her daughter's wedding, asleep in the chair. I can still feel the knot in my chest as I occasionally glanced back at her during the ceremony. This beautiful woman who loved me so, who rocked me to sleep as a little one, who calmed my fears and spoke peace to the fear I often felt every time my mom walked out the door when I was little, asleep in this chair that made her look even smaller. I wanted to crawl into her lap and stroke her hair and whisper truth about Heaven. I wanted to sing the songs she used to sing to me and if love were a blanket I would have swaddled her in it yesterday.<br />
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But all I could do was sit and watch. And pray. And praise. Because, yes, this road is hard. It's taking everything out of me and stirring up fears and wounds and sadness. But my hope is in Heaven. The hope is in Heaven. Every single day. Fifteen years ago my grandma put her hope and faith in Jesus and trusted Him as her Lord and Savior. Her hope is in Heaven. As a result there is peace for her now and there will be peace when Jesus calls her to Heaven.<br />
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Everyone left to go to the reception and I stayed back with my family. I wept at her bedside as she slept and snored and I was grateful for the sound of her repeated breath. I knelt by her bedside and found myself, a midst the sobbing, praying Psalm 73:26, the same verse I prayed while I was exhausted in childbirth with Hudson. It has wrapped itself around my heart and in these moments when I am weary it is what comes out with my breath. "Though my heart and my flesh may fail, God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."<br />
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The truth is, my heart and my flesh will one day fail. It's not where my hope lies. My bank account could dry up tomorrow. And all the money in the world wouldn't heal my grandmother. My hope does not lie there. If I were good enough, and how could anyone ever measure that, it could not save her. My hope is not there. No. My hope is in God.<br />
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A woman named Laura, who I had the privilege of knowing, loved Jesus with every fiber of her being. She battled cancer and went home to be with Jesus 3 years ago. Before she went to Heaven she penned these words and they have been forever burned on my heart.<br />
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"God is good.<br />
He remains on His throne.<br />
He awaits me in Heaven.<br />
In these things I rely and trust. They have not changed.<br />
And there is hope- hope in today and hope in tomorrow."<br />
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I don't know if Grandma has one day or three days or ten. And again, I don't put my hope in how many days she will have this side of Heaven. My hope lies in the truth that because she loves Jesus she will walk with Him in Heaven. Her body will not be frail. Her hearing will be restored and her faith will be sight. And when I am tempted to forget that, when the immense loss starts to block my view of who God is and the hope I have in Him I find myself humming these lyrics-<br />
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Far be it from me to not believe<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Even when my eyes can't see</div>
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And this mountain that's in front of me<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Will be thrown into the midst of the sea</div>
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Chorus<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Through it all, through it all<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />My eyes are on You<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Through it all, through it all<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />It is well</div>
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Bridge x3</div>
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<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />So let go my soul and trust in Him<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />The waves and wind still know His name</div>
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(Listen here: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YNqo4Un2uZI">It is Well (Bethel Music)</a>)</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I don't know what road you are walking today. My guess is that we all know suffering better than we'd like to. And if you have never put your hope and faith in Jesus then, sweet one, I encourage you to take a look at who He is. Because even in those moments when I struggle to believe it does not negate who He is. The wind and the waves still know His name. His identity does not waver through my, your, our unbelief. He is God. He remains on His throne. And there is hope. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Praise God for hope. Praise God for the gift of His Son, Jesus. Amen!</span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-52809557552927320032014-12-24T07:14:00.002-08:002014-12-24T07:14:36.366-08:00Grandma Update #4<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">This past fall the Tuesday morning Bible study I go to studied 1&2 Thessalonians through Beth Moore's Children of the Day study. Familiar words I had read before jumped off the page with fresh meaning and new life as I studied two small books I'd read before. And these words that Paul penned have wrapped themselves around my heart:</span><br />
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"Be joyful always, pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 1Thessalonians 5:16-18</div>
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It would be easy to read those words and think that's a nice thing to do. Or, that was good for Paul but you don't know my life. You don't know the road I'm walking. That's just not realistic. Or even to just think that those three verses are a little fluffy in the midst of the rest of God's word.</div>
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But the truth is Paul's journey to the church of Thessalonica had been paved with hardship. The road Paul walked had been paved with beatings, floggings, imprisonment and then being kicked out of Thessalonica- the very place he was writing that letter to. So, in the midst of this road, Paul writes to these brand new Jesus followers to be joyful always, to pray continually and to give thanks in ALL circumstances.</div>
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Though the sentences are short the sentiment is rich. Because it's not natural. It's not the normal response. It's not what just comes out of us. It's a work of God through us.</div>
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<b>I visited my grandma yesterday. She is dying. She is in good spirits and has no pain. </b></div>
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One of the hardest parts of this road is that she is so darn grateful. It makes it even harder to know she will only be with us for a short time because she is such a joy to be around. Joy and gratitude just pour out of her. She was sitting in her chair in her hospital room yesterday when her doctor came in to see her. Dr. Seetharaman has been an incredible gift to our family. He walked up to my grandma and held her hand and rubbed her shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and she leaned into him. She told him she loved him and that he was a gift sent from God. She thanked him for the care he had taken of her. </div>
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The nurse came to help her to the bathroom and my grandma looked in her eyes and talked to her. She joked and made the nurse laugh and when the nurse helped her back in her chair she held her hand a moment longer and thanked her and told her she loved her. </div>
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Then her sock was dirty and she was going to try to get the spot off with the hand sanitizer on her little table. I told her we could get her a new pair. When this sweet girl, Lyssa, the patient care technician, came in with her new socks you would have thought my gram was given a brand new piece of expensive jewelry. She just beamed that she had fresh, new socks to wear. </div>
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And if you based your hospital food reviews off of what she says the hospital cafeteria is rivaling any 5 star restaurant. She is grateful for a hot meal and she gobbles it up. When you ask her how it was she throws her head back, slumps her shoulders down and opens her mouth with a wide grin. "Oh, Danielle, it was SO GOOD! And there were cinnamon apple slices for dessert! The coffee is so good here." </div>
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And what made me sob yesterday was when she said how grateful she was to God for letting her be sick before dying. She used to ask God to just let her fall asleep and die. "God did it for my sister. He can do it for me." Oh, Gram. But yesterday she told me how grateful she is to be sick because now she gets to spend her days saying goodbyes. Friends and family are visiting and she is loving every minute. Me, too. Me, too.</div>
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It was the same with each person who entered her room yesterday. Love and gratitude poured from her lips. "God is good," was spoken at least a dozen times. And when the social worker came in to tell her that <b>she would get to go to a comfort care home on Christmas Eve (something they said would NEVER happen) she cried tears of joy.</b> The social worker sat beside her and hugged her. They cried together and my grandmother, again, spoke words of gratitude and love.</div>
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Faith changes everything. In the midst of dying, it's a faith in Jesus that frees the heart to sing. Frees the heart to be joyful and give thanks in ALL circumstances. This road is not easy. But she continues to have joy and gratitude and that points me to Jesus every. single. time.</div>
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I don't know what road you are walking right now. If it's an easier road or if it is a road that looks a bit more like the road my family is walking. Maybe it's littered with loss and pain and lots of unknowns. Or maybe right now it's filled with easy news, loved ones beside you and things just falling into place. Whatever your road, may you, today, be joyful and give thanks.</div>
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Giving thanks is a perspective shifter. It doesn't change the road it just changes the way you are looking at the road. It doesn't fix the hardship it just puts it in perspective. </div>
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Today I am grateful that God loved us enough to send His One and Only Son. I'm grateful for Jesus- God with us. I'm grateful for another day with my sweet Gram. I'm grateful for in-laws that love me as their own and for my family in Rochester who graciously have given me the freedom to be completely non-committal with Christmas plans. I'm grateful that Christmas is more than presents and stockings hung (mainly because if that was all it was about I'd be completely failing. No gift is wrapped and our stockings are not hung yet). And today I am grateful for you. You read these updates and I know that you are praying for me and for my family. You are choosing to, in a way, walk this road with me. That's not an easy thing. Thank you. </div>
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"May our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope, encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good deed and word... May the Lord direct your hearts into God's love and Christ's perseverance." 2 Thessalonians 2:16-17, 3:5</div>
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Merry Christmas, sweet ones. </div>
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Love,</div>
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Danielle</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-62994718543917736522014-11-19T11:09:00.000-08:002014-11-19T11:09:30.246-08:00Truth and Love and Chronic Lateness<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">I quit facebook last week.</span> </i></b> It's true. Well, it's sort of true. I had to go on to find a recipe I had shared on my wall that I wanted to make for dinner. And I went on again to see the pictures my in-laws posted of all the snow they got in East Aurora. And then in a moment of weakness, after being holed up in my house for two days due to the 4+ feet of snow outside, I went back on to see pictures and what was happening outside of my zip code. <br />
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And it happened again. <b><span style="font-size: large;"><i>That pit in my stomach</i></span>.</b> The heat rising in my cheeks. <span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>The insecurity creeping over me, whispering unkind words.</b></i> </span> You see, I quit facebook because of an article someone posted. There were several articles over time about many different topics ranging from organic food to clean eating and exercising/fitness. But this was the one that put me over the edge.<br />
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I saw it again today and with it many comments that were not there when I first saw it. To read the article you can click <a href="http://vitamintalent.com/vitabites/no-you-are-not-running-late-you-are-rude-and-selfish#.VGFgGkCa5GY.facebook">here</a>. It was posted by someone I don't know very well. And it was not posted directly to me. But it hit a chord. Here's why. The article is called, "You're not running late, You are just rude and selfish." <i>Ouch. </i><br />
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I run late. Almost always. Sometimes it's 5 or 10 minutes. Sometimes more. As a kid growing up we were early to everything. Like 30 minutes early. I found that once I was older I wanted to control something. <i>Life was chaotic growing up but I could control being late.</i> And so I rebelled against what I grew up with and became that girl. I was never late to school. I was never late to my shift jobs. But everything else.<br />
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Here's the deal, I no longer like being late. It is a bad habit and it's one I am working on. Adding 2 kids to the mix hasn't helped make it easier to reform this chronically late girl but I am a work in progress. And do you know what blesses my heart? When people show me grace. It makes me want to please them. To be on time. To know although I'm so incredibly flawed I am still cared for. And this may sound so silly, but I don't mind when people are late and I'm on time. I never feel disrespected or that my time doesn't matter. I find it is an incredible opportunity to show them grace. And most times it is needed.<br />
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I know. I've showed up to things late, guard up. On the defense. Knowing I've messed up. Knowing I need to apologize. And I have. <i style="font-size: x-large;"><b>And when I've been met with grace, oh it is a balm that soothes my soul.</b></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i></i></span><i><b>Giving grace for the chronically late is never wrong.</b></i> Someone once said, "I'd rather get to Heaven and have shown too much grace than be told I didn't give enough." Yes, your time matters. And that is why choosing grace in that moment is even sweeter. I've been shown much grace and I will continue to choose to give it. And often here is what people don't know when I'm late- that I've changed my outfit 45 times on the verge of tears because I am hating my body and can't stand to look at the girl in the mirror. Because I'm anxious about going somewhere where I fear I won't fit in and everyone will pick apart all of the things I so desperately wish I could hide. Because if I'm late and they are upset their guard will be up and I won't have to let mine down. They can reject me for something within my control vs. all of the things that aren't that they may reject me for and would hurt much more. And sometimes it is because I try to fit in one more thing before I have to leave the house because I continually can't get my act together. And there are times that it's poor planning or because I feel that whatever I have to do is more important than where I am going.<br />
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We never know the battle someone has fought to get where they are. So ask. And show grace.<br />
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That article and the comments that followed were destructive. Here's why. <span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Any time we choose to take a stand on something, especially in social media, it can be interpreted as I am right and you are wrong. I am better. You are less.</b> </i></span>And that is what it did to my heart. <br />
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I read the article. I read the comments. And I shrunk back into myself. Defeated. I will never be good enough. The voice of insecurity that plagues me, that God is working on, grew louder. And I felt wrecked. So, I quit facebook. Because when the voices of women I barely know feed the voice of insecurity I know all too well and becomes louder than The Voice of THE ONLY ONE who should matter, there is a problem.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu1VrX2BMGl22BYvwbsXTbH9pM575cBMkLXEqQxKpZCY4pUI50l10ZOJ5Ixs8q5eh9FBMKP1ZNAsZh5OjSh6AAJFEPsQJEGWitIAlZDhkMPRlwHYfj8-wHr5Turxt9nT8qLRylLH3l6vs/s1600/IMG_1975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu1VrX2BMGl22BYvwbsXTbH9pM575cBMkLXEqQxKpZCY4pUI50l10ZOJ5Ixs8q5eh9FBMKP1ZNAsZh5OjSh6AAJFEPsQJEGWitIAlZDhkMPRlwHYfj8-wHr5Turxt9nT8qLRylLH3l6vs/s1600/IMG_1975.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a>I know I can't be the only one who has struggled with this. So, I want you to stop and to listen for a moment. You, yes you, have been created in the image of God. And because of sin we are all so incredibly flawed. We choose to turn to things that do not satisfy. We run after shiny, meaningless things and we allow the voices of the world fill our head and our hearts with lies and unkind words.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>But there is a voice that we should listen to. It is slow to anger and abounding in love.</b></i> </span>This voice is the voice of a God who knows all of our flaws, sees our rebellion, our struggles, and our silent cries for more than what we've been choosing to live for. And God's voice is kind, compassionate and so very mighty. With words God spoke the universe into being. It's that powerful. <i><b>And His voice can break through our walls and crumble our insecurity into a million pieces revealing the girl He created in His image. To know Him. To love Him. </b></i><br />
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The truth is God will call us out on the things He wants to change in us. He may use people that know us and care for us to do that. I've yet to have him use random articles on social media to do that. See, there's the difference between God and us. I post things because I want to make a point. I want to take a stand. I want people to know I am right and they are wrong.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">courtesy of revivedkitchen.com</td></tr>
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God calls us out on things because He cares for us. Because the end goal is always to make us to reflect Jesus. To look more like His Son and less like the world. That is why it is so important that when we take a stand it's a stand worth taking. That it won't be something that in eternity won't matter.<br />
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An incredibly wise, sweet woman posted to her facebook wall these words,<span style="font-size: large;"> <i>"<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;">When we </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"><i>stand before God at the end of our lives He is not going to </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"><i>ask us what kind of clothes we wore, the type of food we ate </i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"><i>(organic or not), or where we lived. He may very well ask, </i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"><i>however, whom we clothed, fed and invited into our homes."</i></span></span><br />
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Truth in grace is often speaking truth and then continuing to walk alongside. That's what is impossible to do via facebook and posting articles. Often it's truth without grace. It's taking a stand and not caring how it makes people feel. I know because I've done it. And I've been on the other end, too.<br />
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So, today, I am going to stop and to listen to God's voice. To remember that you and I are worth it to God- worth it enough for him to send His one and only Son to die on the cross to secure a place for you and me in eternity. That we might have a personal relationship with Jesus. That's a voice of love. That's a voice that is always truthful and always, always loving.<br />
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Whether you are chronically late or eat non-organic processed food for every meal, are overweight, don't have your life together, don't drive a great car, have an old house that needs updates, feel like you are failing at your job, as a mom, at whatever, are having trouble paying your bills, or look like you have it all together but life is still hard, there's a voice that will speak love to you today. <b style="font-size: x-large; font-style: italic;">You are more than all of that. Keep pressing on. </b>And if you need to, like I do, set your clocks 10 minutes ahead :)<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-16358496094853439622014-08-12T08:21:00.000-07:002014-08-12T08:21:04.947-07:00Hudson's Birth StoryDear Hudson,<br />
<br />
I have been feeling quit guilty for not sitting down sooner to write this, but I just looked back at Sully's birth story and I waited six weeks to write his. Considering I'm chasing your brother all day and taking care of you, my sweet boy, the fact that it's only been seven weeks makes me feel pretty darn good.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUvVlOA04JOQvhUwsczKtfu7tc5TfFiq1fcSAHoAYUmnWiLAEyjIWG6NbFDlIvkI5y4PWfR_bRHKAoQV5__d6B0MM6uOZaEfbR4gibzgxXg8D-kqT6aZ0-bG-UewZFlkBlFeX4gpLoPVs/s1600/_MG_0578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUvVlOA04JOQvhUwsczKtfu7tc5TfFiq1fcSAHoAYUmnWiLAEyjIWG6NbFDlIvkI5y4PWfR_bRHKAoQV5__d6B0MM6uOZaEfbR4gibzgxXg8D-kqT6aZ0-bG-UewZFlkBlFeX4gpLoPVs/s1600/_MG_0578.jpg" height="427" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My pregnant belly three days before you came into this world</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So, Hudson John, this is your story. I love every part of it. Not because it was easy. But because it was worth it.<br />
<br />
You were due on July 7th and for two months I had been praying that you would come early for three reasons. The first was that Dr. Falkner was worried about how big you would be, despite the fact that I assured her these hips were made for birthing babies. The second was that I was feeling incredibly miserable. I felt like my belly just couldn't get any bigger. My maternity shirts were beginning to not cover my belly and my waddle just got worse every day. And the third reason was that I really wanted your Aunt Kristie to be there for your birth. I had wanted her to be there when Sully was born, too, but she was out of town. Her summers are incredibly busy and she was scheduled to start chemo on Wednesday, June 25th.<br />
<br />
Saturday, June 21 was a hot and humid day. I was especially miserable and grouchy. After dinner I told your dad that we needed to take a walk because I just couldn't sit any more and I needed to get out of the house. So we walked. We walked two miles (well, he walked. I waddled). I felt better after that. That night we watched two episodes of our favorite show this summer, Longmire and it was around midnight when we went to bed. As I laid down that night I had only one thought, I knew exactly what I would wear to church the next day. I remember thinking that I have no idea what we will do tomorrow but I am sure of what I will wear.<br />
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That night around 2:30 am I woke up and I rolled over my water broke. A huge gush. I JUMPED out of bed and yelled to your dad that my water broke. In a sleepy daze he jumped out of bed as I waddled to the bathroom and asked me if I was sure. I was definitely sure. It was the strangest feeling. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0VOVCr2pV5uhiP2NwBFl3l1kcSBKo5PFbpUdZXJEnA5j3nvT5R2udgdH6R16a968mpePjqHvuWZOvdSD1gtIGj0H-YcvQ3DW3N5JQwPHsO5BCCyyfUGDGc-OT96bf3DOpbewiPsGjZY/s1600/IMG_2547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL0VOVCr2pV5uhiP2NwBFl3l1kcSBKo5PFbpUdZXJEnA5j3nvT5R2udgdH6R16a968mpePjqHvuWZOvdSD1gtIGj0H-YcvQ3DW3N5JQwPHsO5BCCyyfUGDGc-OT96bf3DOpbewiPsGjZY/s1600/IMG_2547.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a>We called the doctor's office and spoke with the answering service. The woman was so kind that we talked with and congratulated me. We chatted for a few minutes and then I anxiously waited for the midwife to call me back. I got in the shower and just started laughing. Your dad came in the bathroom and thought I was losing it. I was giddy! I stood in that shower laughing while tears streamed down my face at the realization that not only did God hear the cries of my heart but He so graciously answered. I prayed, and sang and thanked God and my heart burst knowing I would meet you soon.<br />
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Standing in that shower I thought I would meet you soon. I thought that contractions would start and we would hurry to the hospital and that you would be born that day. But, my little love, you were not ready. <br />
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The midwife called back and said if I was comfortable I could labor at home for a while and if nothing happened by 7am to head in. She said I could sit in the bathtub and labor in there. So, that is what I did. I even painted my toe nails. And I kept waiting for the contractions to start. But they never did.<br />
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It's funny how I went to bed just hours before thinking that for certain I knew one thing- that I would wear the pretty blue dress I wore for our family pictures to church. I never got to wear that dress and Sunday looked much different than I envisioned.<br />
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By 4:30 am after a bath, a pedicure and trying to sleep I decided there was too much to do. I got up, got dressed, did laundry, put dishes away and packed Sully's overnight bag. Around 6 am Grandpa came over to watch Sully and by 8 am your dad and I left for the hospital. We stopped at Tim Horton's and got an iced tea and a breakfast sandwich. We checked in to the hospital and when the nurse started hooking me up to the monitors she didn't seem to believe me that my water broke.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QEsEAe7mdIqPgF-uuOk4O3exjaTjOlj1I4lTq_x2zDsGiT35wxNhKpxdc_mG8sWAqBJVyK3NPiJJRtIOwr5gopB6NRdmKaKEfpR3e_qwksjb9BFh48spv4D4UyXPqDczmINqverl0p4/s1600/IMG_2514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QEsEAe7mdIqPgF-uuOk4O3exjaTjOlj1I4lTq_x2zDsGiT35wxNhKpxdc_mG8sWAqBJVyK3NPiJJRtIOwr5gopB6NRdmKaKEfpR3e_qwksjb9BFh48spv4D4UyXPqDczmINqverl0p4/s1600/IMG_2514.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eileen, the best labor and delivery nurse!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
That was when I learned that you were still very high. Once the midwife came in (a very sweet and lovely woman named Elaine) she affirmed that my water did break but I was not dilated or thinned out at all and yes, you still were very high. Enter Pitocin. The dreaded Pit Drip.<br />
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Contractions started. They progressively got worse. No back labor (woo hoo!). I used the big exercise ball to labor on (loved it). Aunt Kristie came because she had two days open and I happened to be in labor during them! And what seemed like at first would be a Sunday delivery was quickly turning into the realization that you would not be born on Sunday. <br />
<br />
I had the sweetest nurse during the day. Her name is Jaime and she could not have been any cuter. She was pregnant and adorable and did I mention sweet? I adored her! She held my hand through the epidural (the epidural that was meant for an elephant because it made me go numb from the neck down) and she even sat by my side while I slept and she filled out paperwork. <br />
<br />
The epidural was not the best experience but I'm grateful for the rest I had while I had it (despite the fact that I could feel NOTHING and I couldn't even help turn myself over so I was propped up with pillows). I got the epidural around 6:30pm. I slept. Aunt Kristie slept. Your dad watched the World Cup on his tiny little Ipod. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqsVi5RQPZ3NkqNxvYVGiKki0uC8S51GLvd9vH-IdtQ_V4JLKpesOoQLQTuPi8ZszPGZSVjQO03pA0ber_fQ8jauvYbdiXJRfwKjpuSsz_V-qy1Q5wRq7qTGpN14sdqk1wd83kLNYyrs/s1600/IMG_2535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqsVi5RQPZ3NkqNxvYVGiKki0uC8S51GLvd9vH-IdtQ_V4JLKpesOoQLQTuPi8ZszPGZSVjQO03pA0ber_fQ8jauvYbdiXJRfwKjpuSsz_V-qy1Q5wRq7qTGpN14sdqk1wd83kLNYyrs/s1600/IMG_2535.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Around 7pm the nurses switch shifts and do you know who walked in that door? Eileen. The same nurse who helped deliver your brother. Hudson, that was an incredible gift from God. She is just the best. God's hand prints were all over this day. Your birthday. Eileen and I got to talking. We got to sharing about our lives. We got to talking about God and His goodness and His grace and how He redeems all things and makes all things new. And we got to see the good Lord wrap His arms around Eileen and remind her how much He cares for her. We invited her to come to The Chapel. We shared pictures of your brother and Eileen showed us her favorite picture of one of her sons. Tears welled up in our eyes and our hearts were filled because, Hudson John, as you were getting ready to make your way into this world, God was reminding us that life is best lived for Him. Life is so much about sharing our story and giving credit to the author. Yes, this is your birth story, my sweet boy, but there is an Author, and He gets All. The. Glory.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Nj1SSVQ3-TODzFrlIzAy0L98K5ZioUqq2apb4r8yRFpDAs1yI-DlathEmOIfGfXSt2uFsj_bLtT7iSb6qlV9sTln5_7vbzjoliUiaFEthS5MA14TomHRq4F3W7BVfHPdJDMxc9K7M9s/s1600/IMG_2534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Nj1SSVQ3-TODzFrlIzAy0L98K5ZioUqq2apb4r8yRFpDAs1yI-DlathEmOIfGfXSt2uFsj_bLtT7iSb6qlV9sTln5_7vbzjoliUiaFEthS5MA14TomHRq4F3W7BVfHPdJDMxc9K7M9s/s1600/IMG_2534.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
Around 12:05 am it was time to push. I felt nothing so Eileen coached me through when to push. I am grateful for her beyond words. Dad held one leg, Eileen the other. Aunt Kristie spoke sweet and encouraging words, sprinkled with excitement. I was frustrated I couldn't feel anything. I felt out of control because I couldn't feel anything. How could I be doing any work to help you out when I couldn't feel anything? But you came. You came. You made your way and my boy, I'm so in love.<br />
<br />
Dr. Smith was on call and delivered you at 12:35 am (turns out He is Emilie's softball coach so Aunt Kristie knew him- small world, right?). You weighed 7lbs 12oz and were 20 1/4 inches long. Shortly after they put you in my arms I felt incredibly nauseous and had to hand you back. I got horrible shakes and they had to give me anti-nausea medicine and pile warm blankets on me. Eileen sat by my side and held my hand. In that moment I felt scared and I felt loved. Loved by this sweet nurse who took such incredible, tender care of me and loved by God, who so sweetly answered my prayers and was faithful to calm my anxious heart. <br />
<br />
Hudson, I don't know what your life will hold. I don't know the number of days you will walk this Earth. But I know this- the start to your story has God's hand prints all over it. The prelude to you entering it is filled with the faithfulness and grace of a very loving, very mighty God who has taken great care to knit you together, to know your innermost being and to orchestrate your story. May you, Hudson John, live out the story He writes. May you be bold in loving, tender with your words, and bring peace wherever your feet walk. May you take leaps of faith knowing and believing that God is who He says He is and that He has the power to do what He has promised and when given opportunity may you give Him every ounce of credit as the Author to your story. May your story be great. Because the Author is great. And may you walk every step this side of heaven knowing that you, my boy, are loved.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBEGm7be3dFAIodM4RA27lksNUscYvox1k_wVklYbzb80rMUF-zV9SZ5VhMocwFGBjqpWsTQ9xqXEX8ODzrqjZKe5tzf5Ngl5H3gmFrv9GrWpue1Re1e6Q7TLkdjDt0v-Jq2ZQdU9chYk/s1600/IMG_2564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBEGm7be3dFAIodM4RA27lksNUscYvox1k_wVklYbzb80rMUF-zV9SZ5VhMocwFGBjqpWsTQ9xqXEX8ODzrqjZKe5tzf5Ngl5H3gmFrv9GrWpue1Re1e6Q7TLkdjDt0v-Jq2ZQdU9chYk/s1600/IMG_2564.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to go home from the hospital!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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As I sit and write this I hear your little whimpers upstairs as your dad gets you ready for bed. And I sit here before this computer, tears welling in my eyes, thinking how I can't believe this is my story. I never asked for it. God graciously wrote it out. I'm walking it. The mom of two boys. The wife of a man who loves me so sweetly, the daughter of a King whose throne endures forever. I don't deserve it and I sure have done nothing to earn it.<br />
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I love that I am your mama. I love that you are my son. I love that you are Sully's brother and that already you resemble him. He loves you. He wants to hold you every day. He gives you endless kisses. Such a gift to watch you together even now. Welcome to our family. We waited so patiently for you. I'm so glad you are here.<br />
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Love you forever,<br />
Mama<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-52709199435456593502014-04-15T10:03:00.002-07:002014-04-15T13:29:08.034-07:00Young Life Basket Auction Talk<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I had an incredible opportunity to speak at the Young Life Rochester East Ladies Basket Auction Brunch at Oak Hill Country Club a couple weeks ago. YL is near and dear to my heart. I was both excited and humbled at the opportunity. Below is the talk I shared. If you are looking to invest in an organization check out YL. If you have middle school or high school aged kids Wyld Life (for middle school kids) or YL (for high school kids) is worth checking out. For more info click <a href="http://www.younglife.org/Pages/default.aspx">here</a>.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Good morning, Ladies. It is such a privilege to stand up here and
to be able to share with you the story that God has written so far in my life
and just how YL fits into it. I have to
confess that when first asked to share my story my excitement level was through
the roof. I love getting to share the
work Jesus has done in me, but as this day drew nearer the task began to seem
daunting because I started to realize there was just too much to share. YL is such a part of who I am and how I do
life- how could I ever give words to something that is so woven through my
heart and runs through my veins? I will
do my best but know that for every one thing I share there are 10 more things I
could have shared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Growing up life was
chaotic and messy.</span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My mom was a drug
addict and my parents were never married.
I never met my dad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I was 3 years old we
moved from the city in with my grandparents in Webster. This added to the chaos of my young life
because my grandfather was an alcoholic.
If you can imagine, there was lots of yelling, lots of anger, and always
someone leaving. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My grandmother was and
still is my rock. She has always been
more like a mother to me than a grandmother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Home was chaotic. But as messy and chaotic as life was it was
about to get worse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I was 9 years old, in
November of 1990, my grandfather’s alcoholism took its toll and he died. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A year later, in October
of 1991 my mom was murdered. After
having been gone from home for 2 months straight, she went out one night to
score drugs. Three teenage boys robbed
her, knocked her down on the ground and shot her in the back of the neck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">She lived for 48 days
after, paralyzed from the neck down, when she made the decision to be taken off
of life support. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After each loss my grandmother
would sit me down and she would tell me the same thing. God works in mysterious ways and everything
happens for a reason. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">As hard as these
two losses were for me they didn’t break me and I clung to a belief in a God
who was bigger than my hurt.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I clung to that belief
until I was 14 years old. In the summer
of 1995 my childhood best friend was murdered.
Maybe it was because it was just too much loss at this point for a girl
to take or maybe it was because my friend had never hurt me or abandoned me the
way my family had, but I broke. I stood
in Mass one Sunday and I silently screamed that God, either you don’t exist or
you’re not good and I want nothing to do with you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Lost, lonely and broken I
walked through middle school and most of my high school years. Then one spring day a friend invited me to YL
camp. She had invited me earlier that
year to Campaigners but when I found out that it had to do with God and that
you actually read the Bible I turned down her invitation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But camp was a different
story. Camp seemed fun and exciting and
the boy I had a crush on my entire junior year was going. So I signed up. My expectations going to YL camp at <st1:place><st1:placename>Saranac</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Lake</st1:placetype></st1:place> consisted only of having said crush fall in love with me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I stepped off the bus on a
beautiful, sunny, August day in 1998 and I don’t think that boy talked to me
once. He didn’t sweep me off my
feet. <b><i>But God did.</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I heard about Jesus that
week. I heard how the God of the
universe created us and loved us but because of sin, a condition we all have,
we are separated from Him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sin is an archery term, it
means to miss the mark- anything short of perfection. Romans <st1:time hour="15" minute="23">3:23</st1:time> says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” And Romans <st1:time hour="18" minute="23">6:23</st1:time> says, “For the wages of sin is death,” death
meaning eternal separation from God. That wasn’t hard for me to grasp. I knew I wasn’t perfect. I knew from all the hurt I had experienced
growing up that people were anything but perfect. And I knew that I was not living a life that
had any kind of relationship with God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And as I listened that
week I heard how it didn’t matter how hard I tried to do good things, be a good
person, or make right choices. I could
never fix my sin condition. <b><i> I could
never earn my way to God.</i></b> Earning my way
to God would be like trying to jump to the moon. Maybe I could jump higher than some people
but jumping all the way to the moon is impossible. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But God loved you and He
loved me too much to leave us dead in our sin.
He made a way. He made a way
through His son, Jesus. God sent His one
and only Son, Jesus, to be born of a virgin, live a perfect, sinless life, and
die on the cross in our place. Three
days later he rose, conquering sin, death and the grave forever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>Romans 5:8 says, “But God
demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ
died for us.”</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">God made a way because He
loves us. He made a way because we
couldn’t get to Him. He made a way
because He thinks we are worth it. He made a way and the way is Jesus.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Every talk I heard, every
person I encountered at YL Camp spoke love over me and to me. Yes, I was broken. Yes, I was lost. But we all were. And we didn’t have to stay that way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I decided that week that
if God loved me and thought I was worth it then I wanted a relationship with
Him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And so began the impact YL
had on me. As a 17 year old girl YL
spoke the truth of who Jesus is and then walked beside me to show me His
love. YL helped to make Jesus real for me. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">And this broken girl began to find healing,
peace, joy and comfort. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I talk about the
impact of YL please know all that encompasses- YL is a wonderful organization
but it is made up of people. So as I
talk about the impact of YL it is the people, my leaders, Christine and Rick, Kelly,
Kristie and <st1:country-region><st1:place>Chad</st1:place></st1:country-region>, John and Laura who are imprinted on me. It is my friends that piled into club and
campaigners week after week as we grew together in our faith walk- Christine,
Jill, Dan, James, Becky, Chris, Amanda and Courtney. It’s the girls who would pile into my car
week after week when I was on YL staff- Brandi, Melissa, Sam, Ani, Bethany,
Erin and Katelynn. YL is about
relationships. These are the
relationships that have molded my heart.
These are the relationships I treasure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0oiTZQxShQHtQhufWH1UwaKdHq1Xc-VbiZOLWz-Go7e0Z-3h1NXg3PTcLk_BhEW43HrrTKt4iyihANvL1zOZZBVQaPOopGpctIPJDLhibKhI6H788B-PPrPOleIyhOJMD2IWV9GwvhqA/s1600/IMG_6438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0oiTZQxShQHtQhufWH1UwaKdHq1Xc-VbiZOLWz-Go7e0Z-3h1NXg3PTcLk_BhEW43HrrTKt4iyihANvL1zOZZBVQaPOopGpctIPJDLhibKhI6H788B-PPrPOleIyhOJMD2IWV9GwvhqA/s1600/IMG_6438.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Kristie & me at my baby shower</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The impact that YL has had
on me stretches far beyond my last year of high school. It impacted me as a high school kid, as a
young woman and even now as a wife and mom, YL is still impacting me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><b>As a high school kid YL
provided a place for me to meet and grow in my relationship with Jesus. </b></i>Every Friday morning of my senior year of
high school you would find me sitting around with a group of my peers at <st1:time hour="18" minute="15">6:15</st1:time> in the morning singing songs and opening our
Bibles, soaking in whatever lesson our leaders had planned that day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>YL provided a safe place
for me to have fun but to also learn how to share who Jesus was to my friends
who didn’t go to camp and to my friends who, like me months before, didn’t know
there was a God who loved them.</i></b> So, every
Tuesday night you would find me huddled in some kid’s basement, singing loud
songs, laughing like crazy and sitting on the floor listening to a 10 minute
talk about who Jesus is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>As a high school kid YL
put adult leaders in my life who modeled for me what it looked like to live a
life surrendered to Jesus and what it looked like to love people well. </i></b> My leaders loved me and they accepted
me. My YL leader, Christine, even took
me to tour colleges which is something my grandmother never would have been
able to do with me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As a young woman in
college I carried with me the foundation that YL had built of what it looked
like to love others and to share Jesus with them. <b><i>I took with me the importance of spending
daily time with God and investing in the people He put in my life.</i></b> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After graduating college I
went on to work for YL for 2 years as an intern in <st1:place><st1:city>Hamburg</st1:city>, <st1:state>NY</st1:state></st1:place>. It was
here that I reconnected with two YL leaders from my senior year of high
school. Kristie and Chad Rush moved to
Buffalo the same time that I went on YL staff.
Kristie and I connected again. They
opened their home to me while I worked for YL and I moved into their
basement. Weekly, Kristie and I would
get together and do a Bible study. She
mentored me and challenged me the way she had so many high school girls before. <b><i>She did life with me the way only a YL leader
really knows how.</i></b> And the impact YL had
on her was now impacting me and what she poured into me I was pouring out into
the girls I was working with. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGCyh_uqeNe3K9ZifgK5FbmUeKP89lZrOJ5Sdr_zbH8dhJ2z4zdNTGMweG5baO1sOdh_gErWthubGZHl6D8anJtXOqz99zx9xF_AuXtG83aN5L0-x4z0hiTxFqop3NwMQYZGlI0LIZ1SQ/s1600/216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGCyh_uqeNe3K9ZifgK5FbmUeKP89lZrOJ5Sdr_zbH8dhJ2z4zdNTGMweG5baO1sOdh_gErWthubGZHl6D8anJtXOqz99zx9xF_AuXtG83aN5L0-x4z0hiTxFqop3NwMQYZGlI0LIZ1SQ/s1600/216.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Rick Rogan officiating our wedding</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was the years working
for YL that I would hear Rick Rogan talk about loving kids well and that God’s
love is bold. He would challenge us to
ask hard questions and speak hard truths.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I would find myself
sitting in my car with one of my high school girls in her driveway and as she
would pour out her heart and share what she was really thinking and feeling and
what was really going on, the things high school girls don’t always tell their
moms, their friends or facebook, Rick’s words would crash through my mind. <b><i>I would find myself asking the questions heavy
with the weight of eternity. </i></b> What did
you think about what so & so shared at club tonight? Who do you think Jesus is? If God loves you and wants a relationship
with you and Jesus made a way all you have to do is accept it, how do you feel
about that?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As I left YL and went on
to work a lot of other jobs from Starbucks to a construction company I would
carry with me the impact of those who had poured into me. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">That ministry is wherever you are and that
loving others for Jesus is intentional. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I viewed my co-workers as my ministry and approached them the only way I
knew how at this point- with love, with honesty, and with the desire to share
with them the incredible truth that Jesus loves them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As a wife and mom I have
seen the impact YL had on me. I didn’t
have a father figure growing up. I
hadn’t seen a healthy marriage modeled to me. But then I was a part of YL. And I watched my leaders. I listened as Rick shared stories about his
wife and his kids. I spent a month on
work crew and watched how the staff there treated their spouses and spoke
kindly to them. I was a sponge and I
soaked in all I could. <b><i>I lived in
Kristie and </i></b><st1:country-region><st1:place><b><i>Chad</i></b></st1:place></st1:country-region><b><i>’s basement and I saw how they loved each other, not perfectly
(perfection is never the goal) but well. </i></b>
I saw how <i>love never walked away. </i>
And I saw them parent their two kids- how they loved them, poured into
them, how family was the priority and Jesus was woven into everything. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve been married almost 6
years now to a man who is much quieter and more even keel than I could ever
dream of being. We have a 19 month old
little boy, Sullivan and another little boy on the way. We met in college, and while I worked for YL
he volunteered with Wyld Life. Rick
Rogan officiated our wedding and Kristie and Chad Rush have become our
family. We often talk about if God will
move us out of the city of <st1:city><st1:place>Buffalo</st1:place></st1:city>
at some point and how great it would be to live in a town where there is YL so
our kids can be part of an organization that means so much to us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhNMPeLvFXsBIlJYPSpY4eLS0QozOgsRXhydgMoYTCTUnv6GAfF3iPHTkNuzCdaPME2mqI2-dw1TggJf0puRmt4z5u2G8z_fbywGgX_G8BtFHLMCgWx45-BxEj94lqm7j3caYiATgc6s/s1600/pic+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhNMPeLvFXsBIlJYPSpY4eLS0QozOgsRXhydgMoYTCTUnv6GAfF3iPHTkNuzCdaPME2mqI2-dw1TggJf0puRmt4z5u2G8z_fbywGgX_G8BtFHLMCgWx45-BxEj94lqm7j3caYiATgc6s/s1600/pic+2.jpg" height="458" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sully's dedication</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">16 years after I stepped foot
off of that bus at Saranac Lake there is no doubt in my mind that I was
stepping onto sacred ground. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">16 years
later and YL still matters. It’s woven
into my life and into how I do life. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, why does this matter
for you? Let me give you 3 reasons.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: inherit;">1)<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><span dir="LTR">It
matters because way back when, 16 years ago, I couldn’t afford to go to
camp. My grandma and I didn’t have extra
money. So, it was sweet people, like you
beautiful ladies here this morning, who gave of their money in order that I
might go to camp. I remember weeding
gardens for a couple hours to earn money toward my trip. I know they gave me far more than my weeding
earned me. And if I knew then what I know now I would have weeded 1,000 gardens
that summer. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes I wonder if when
I get to heaven I will get to meet the sweet people that donated money to my
camp trip. I would love to hug them and
to thank them. <b><i>I wonder if they have any
idea the impact their dollars had on my life.</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: inherit;">2)<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><span dir="LTR">It
matters because the impact YL has goes beyond camp. It goes beyond high school kids. It’s bigger than me and it’s bigger than you.<b><i>
It matters because the work of YL is kingdom work. It’s eternal. </i></b>
And it’s a really neat thing when we can come along side God and His
work, open ourselves to live generously, and partner with Him. My kids will grow up knowing that God created
them, that He loves them and that Jesus wants to be their friend forever
because 16 years ago some leaders and staff thought I was worth it enough to share
the incredible love of Jesus with me at YL Camp. That’s what we get to be a part of. My kids’ story will look so much different
than mine because of Jesus. And Jesus
used YL to do that.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: inherit;">3)<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><span dir="LTR">It
matters because if you are a parent, then you know this truth;<b><i> there is nothing
that makes your heart beam more then when someone loves your kid.</i></b> If you want to win me over, love my little
boy. I’ve thought how this, too, is
God’s heart. Want to make God’s heart
smile? Love His Son. Love His children. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span style="font-size: large;">Do you know what these YL leaders do, some
paid and most volunteer? They love your
kids. </span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">They pray for them, they think
about them, they figure out how to challenge them, how to encourage them and no
matter what your kid is walking through or dealing with YL leaders come along
side and do life with your kids. Invest
in these leaders. I don’t know what that
looks like for you- maybe it’s donating money but maybe it goes beyond
that. Maybe it’s having your local
volunteer leader over for dinner because they are in college and what college
kid couldn’t use a hot, home cooked meal.
Maybe it’s giving them a gas card because a synonym for YL leader is
also chauffer. Maybe its writing them a
note and letting them know that you appreciate them and that the work they are
doing matters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">YL is in the business of
loving kids and sharing Jesus. The work
is hard. The impact is eternal. And we can all be a part of it.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-75645434320815494242014-01-31T13:22:00.004-08:002014-01-31T13:22:36.676-08:00Dear Sullivan (17 Months)My Dear, Sweet Sullivan,<br />
<br />
Here I sit at this computer, having just put you down for a nap. "Night, Night," as we have begun to call it to help you understand the concept. And I hear you "talking" up there. You are most likely playing with the three, no, I think it's four as of today, stuffed animals in your crib. And my heart is smiling.<br />
<br />
It's been a while since I've written you but it's more because we are busy doing life together not at all because there is a lack of anything in my heart that I want to pour out to you. Trust me, sweet boy, on that one.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqOnosH1x3ZRCRZnJCfWkqSn2c6bIddb9xAWM1CouuJDKt7kFKlVlkDU_IL48muuwfTPcqfXWPL-IKKC5_wO6uE3pP5eLlSKJIAVItZpGlcoV1vjBqf0ziCa785kl2njZ-3Eg4pVYFmE0/s1600/IMG_2226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqOnosH1x3ZRCRZnJCfWkqSn2c6bIddb9xAWM1CouuJDKt7kFKlVlkDU_IL48muuwfTPcqfXWPL-IKKC5_wO6uE3pP5eLlSKJIAVItZpGlcoV1vjBqf0ziCa785kl2njZ-3Eg4pVYFmE0/s1600/IMG_2226.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
Today I just want to tell you what a blast I had at the play museum with you. I love watching you run and discover and watch other little kids. The world is still so new and so fresh and so exciting to you. I love that.<br />
<br />
Here are a few things I'd like to tell you:<br />
<br />
1) You are going to be a big brother! I know you don't grasp that yet. But you touch my belly and I say "baby". You are a little obsessed these days with belly buttons so I find myself saying, "baby," a lot. I think you will be an awesome big brother. You already have this sweet, happy (most of the time) disposition. This kid will be incredibly blessed to have you looking out for him/her (we find out this week if it will be a boy or girl!).<br />
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2) You already have a tender heart towards animals. Especially dogs. You love dogs. All dogs. Even the dogs who aren't particularly fond of you. You kiss Cole about 1,000 times a day. You get that from me. As you grow and you desire to shoot a deer, that will be from your father, but your love of all things cute and furry is from me. And I think you think Cole is your older brother. Sometimes you two act like siblings. You roughhouse. You try to hit him. And I've caught you a few times biting him. When I scold you, you lean over and kiss him. Is that your way of saying you're sorry?<br />
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3) Today I witnessed your first experience with a bratty kid. I know there have probably been ones before this. But this one I saw. This little girl was being a brat. She wouldn't let you play with anything at the play museum in the area where she was. She ripped a paintbrush out of your hand. It didn't phase you. When she then tried to take the plastic pipe away you wound up like you were going to hit her (and you probably were). I yelled your name and you put down the pipe. Then, just like you do with the dog, you leaned in to kiss her.<br />
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She ran to her mom and told her three times how, "That little boy," hit her on the head. Oh, you know the mama bear in me started to wake. I kept my cool and a sweet grandmother who witnessed everything piped up and said she was a witness that it did not happen. The mom dismissed everything and I just rolled my eyes.<br />
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Someday, Sullivan, you'll be old enough to know when kids are being mean. Hear this, I have prayed since you were just months old that God would work in you and through you and that you would be the type of kid who loves people well, even the hard to love ones. I pray that Jesus' voice would be louder than any other voice you hear. Because Jesus' voice is always one of love. I pray that you would stand firm in who Jesus says you are because there will be many mean kids throughout your life. There will be many things that will want to define you or label you. Never let those voices define you. <i><b>You are so much more.</b></i><br />
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You are my sweet, strong, brave, capable, thoughtful, compassionate, joy-filled, full of life kid. You keep your eyes on Jesus and your feet following Him. And should you ever feel alone, unloved or a little lost, Dad and I are here to remind you just where you've been, who you are and <b>Whose</b> you are. <br />
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With all of my heart,<br />
Your Mama<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-70538252703260858202014-01-22T01:08:00.000-08:002014-01-22T01:12:28.663-08:00Babies Ruin So MuchI read a blog the other day entitled, "Babies Ruin Bodies," and it moved me. It could be the pregnancy hormones but I wept. It was just beautiful. You can read it <a href="http://weseekjoy.blogspot.com/2013/12/babies-ruin-bodies.html">here</a>. And tonight as I couldn't sleep because of horrible sinus pain I found myself doing dishes, listening to worship music, praying for a dear friend and thinking about how babies ruin so much more than our bodies.<br />
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Babies ruin plans. It's true. And by babies I also mean toddlers. Just this weekend I made plans to take Sully to Explore & More Children's Museum. It was the only thing I planned. I was looking forward to it. Then he got sick. Yucky sick. More than just a runny nose sick. Plan ruined.<br />
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Then there was the time Ryan and I had finally made plans to have a date night. And the kid got sick. Like 104 fever sick. Plans ruined. Yes, babies ruin plans.<br />
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They also ruin neatly organized cupboards. I am not gifted organizationally. More organized than some but definitely wouldn't win any awards, so when I organize something, take the time and really do it, it feels good and I feel proud. Like the time I organized my tupperware cupboard. It was beautiful. Neatly stacked in piles by shape and size. Lids stacked in a basket. <br />
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My toddler clearly had no regard or appreciation for my work. Can you believe it? Within minutes it was destroyed and he was happy. <br />
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Babies ruin sleep. This is a well known fact. Whether you nurse or bottle feed, whether you sleep train or don't. Babies ruin sleep. Then they become toddlers and mine sleeps pretty well. But every once in a while he has an off night. And it's funny how one off night can throw off days. Days. Babies ruin sleep.<br />
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They also ruin good, solid conversation. Have you ever had a conversation with a mom with her baby/toddler in tow? Before I had kids I would walk away feeling like I had ADD. Now that I'm a mom I realize what an amazing thing it is that mom's can talk at all while their kids are around. We mama's adapt! Babies ruin uninterrupted conversation. Babies ruin coffee dates. <br />
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Babies also ruin Christmas trees, neatly placed mangers under the tree, boxes of tissues left within reach and any sort of toy that has multiple pieces.<br />
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And then you have a moment like I had with my Sully the other day. When I was rocking him before a nap, he pulled his little head off my shoulder, looked me straight in the eye, leaned in and kissed my cheek. He smiled, kissed my other cheek, then pulled his little body up with all his might and he kissed my forehead and then my nose. He put his head back on my shoulder and I melted.<br />
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Puddle on the ground, people. Yes, babies ruin lots of things. But when you have one you start to wonder what your purpose was before that little person was in your life. You start to realize you'll take slobbery kisses from a toddler over an organized drawer or cupboard any day. Sometimes those moments are few and far between and sometimes they happen one after another and I know that I feel incredibly blessed and incredibly humble.<br />
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God entrusted this little life to me. To me. And one day when these babies of ours are grown there will be time for beautiful, neatly stacked tupperware and perfectly decorated Christmas trees and mangers that have all the people and animals they are supposed to. <br />
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So, if you have a little one, take a moment today to know that this is a season. Enjoy it. Let's shift our perspective from seeing what has been ruined to seeing the gift before us- a little life to love, to mold, to nurture and to encourage.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-18065361725986973862013-10-12T08:07:00.001-07:002013-10-12T08:07:17.967-07:00When Your Heart Grows LegsI recently (as in yesterday) applied for a part time babysitting job. It seemed like it would be a perfect fit for Sully and me. It was two days a week for a few hours in the afternoon. It would be watching a little girl the same age as Sully. She would nap for part of the time I would be there which would be great because it coincides with Sully's nap.<br />
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Honestly, it seemed like a perfect fit. Until I got the rejection notice. "Thank you for your interest but I am not comfortable with that. So sorry!" Not comfortable with me bringing my little guy with me. I've been rejected before. Let me count the ways. But this felt different. This felt like a rejection of not just me but my son. And it is breaking my heart. <br />
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I heard once that when you have a child it's like letting your heart walk around outside your body. That's how I feel. My heart grew legs, sprouted blonde hair, grew 6 teeth and waddles around in the cutest little way imaginable. My heart has a name. He has a face. And I can't think of anything I wouldn't do to protect him. To fight for him. <br />
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The truth is that Jesus told us that in this world we would have trouble but to take heart because He has overcome the world. The hope in this is that while I know that I will have trouble and Sully will, too,Jesus is bigger. Hope is beautiful. Hope provides a healing balm to my hurting heart right now. <br />
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And this woman, she doesn't know that she's missing out on her daughter having one amazing little friend in my guy. She doesn't know that his smile lights up a room. I'm sure her heart is to provide the best possible thing for her daughter. And because she's a mom I'm pretty sure her heart sprouted two legs and is walking around outside her body, too. <br />
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Navigating motherhood isn't easy. It's not easy on Saturday mornings when you are sitting at your computer crying because your heart hurts and you realize this is probably just a taste of what's to come throughout the years of loving your kid. There isn't a neat little bow to tie on this post today. My heart still hurts but I have hope.<br />
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<i><span class="versenum" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble, and keep on praying." Romans 12:12</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">“</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">have</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> told you </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">the</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">se things, so that </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">i</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">n me you may </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">have</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> peace. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">n this </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">world</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> you will </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">have </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">trouble. But </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">take</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">heart</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">! </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">have</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">overcome</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">the</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">world</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">.” John 16:33</span></i><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-85097291968733056482013-10-11T13:38:00.002-07:002013-10-11T13:38:14.924-07:00Rantings on Being My BestAs I stood at the peninsula in my kitchen the other day preparing lunch for my little munchkin I thought about the phrases, "Just do the best you can," and, "I'm just trying to be the best person I can be." Growing up I heard those phrases a lot. I haven't heard them as much in the past few years. And what I started to wonder was what Jesus thinks about those phrases.<br />
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Are those phrases that he ever spoke to his disciples? Do those phrases reflect the heart of God? And what I think at the moment, and reserve every right to change my mind on, is no. Let me tell you why.<br />
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Doing our best and being the best we can be just doesn't truly amount to much. In the grand scheme of life it doesn't get us far. Think about the apostle Peter. Do you know where his best got him? Asleep in the Garden of Gethsemane when Jesus told him to pray because in just a few short hours people would come to arrest Jesus and then crucify him. <br />
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Do you know where Paul's best got him? Persecuting and killing people that believed differently than him<br />
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. Paul's best was zealous. Paul's best won him the approval of some and made others quiver with fear. <br />
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And how about James, Jesus' half brother? James best got him missing that his own half brother was the Son of God. The Messiah. The Christ. James' best had him thinking that Jesus was out of his mind.<br />
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Don't even get me started on my best! My best was a girl who longed to be loved and looked to all the ones who could never fill her because they couldn't even fill themselves let alone someone else. My best was a girl who no matter how hard she tried couldn't change her broken heart, fix her loneliness from never having a father who cared or a mother who was around. My best, even now, is broken and tattered, with false motives and selfish ambition.<br />
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This is why I think that God's heart is never that we try our best but that we realize He's our best. I think God's heart is that we live in a continual awareness of how our best is not what it's about but that living a life surrendered to Him is what it's about. <br />
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At the end of our lives we will stand before the God of the universe and I don't think the question He will ask us will be, "Did you try your best? Did you be the best you, you could be?" <br />
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Remember Peter, Paul and James? Before they really got who Jesus was and what He came to Earth to do, their best was pitiful. But after Christ died on the cross and rose, conquering death, sin and the grave, they got it. And then it was Peter doing life filled with the Holy Spirit, living completely and wholly for Christ. It was Christ's power through Peter. And Peter built the church. Christ's power through Paul brought people to Christ and Paul penned a chunk of the New Testament. Jesus' half brother James- he became a man of prayer and helped lead the early church. He lived surrendered to Christ ministering to Jews who believed that Jesus was the Messiah.<br />
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Remember me? The girl whose best left her empty and longing? I no longer try to do my best. Instead, I live in an awareness that Jesus is it. He's the beginning and the end. The One who knows me and loves me and who fills the empty places of my heart. I no longer need to perform. I can rest. I can sit back and be filled. Anything good in me? It's Jesus. Without Him I'm just a girl with a tattered heart, false motives and selfish ambitions.<br />
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But Jesus came in to my tattered heart and His best is making things new. His best is taking broken hearts and making them whole. His best casts light on false motives and selfish ambition and trades those things for compassion, gratitude and love. His best is truly THE best.<br />
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So, my dear reader, today I encourage you to lay down your best at the feet of Jesus. Sit and be loved by the God who knows you. And see if maybe, just maybe, His best is even sweeter, even more beautiful than your best.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-64091169395753919122013-10-07T11:19:00.000-07:002013-10-07T11:19:24.654-07:00Hello Monday!<div style="text-align: center;">
Hello Monday!</div>
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Let's say hello to some things, shall we? </div>
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Hello one of my favorite months, October! I love the cooler weather and all the colors of fall. As the leaves change and drop it reminds me that God created beauty in all things. </div>
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Hello pumpkins and mums and trips to the pumpkin farm!</div>
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Hello to spending another week with that cute little boy! Love him. To. Pieces. </div>
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Hello week of reading! I'm currently reading Jesus the King by Tim Keller for Tuesday AM Bible study and The Invisible War by Chip Ingram and reading/SOAPing through the book of Mark and reading Randy Alcorn's Heaven devotional. All are really, really, really good! </div>
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Hello homemade pasta sauce that simmered all day on the stove yesterday. We'll be having left overs for a while! </div>
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Hello meal planning and trying to cut our grocery bill. I'm going to take the $50 a week grocery bill challenge. No coupons, just smart shopping and planning! We'll see how I do. This will mean staying away from one of my all time favorite destinations- Wegman's. But look out Aldi, here I come!</div>
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Hello to a clean kitchen! Hello to being in a cleaning mood today- this doesn't happen often so I am running with it!</div>
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Hello to another trip to the Great Pumpkin Farm on Wednesday with MOPS! Super excited for that!</div>
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I hope that you have a wonderful Monday. What are you saying hello to this week?</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-12549900134405448192013-09-25T12:23:00.000-07:002013-09-25T19:21:44.149-07:00Identiy lost Identify foundI sat in a coffee shop a few weeks back with a friend. It was my first night out without the baby or my husband in what feels like a very long time. I was pumped. A Saturday night all to myself? A Saturday night to just sit in a coffee shop, sip my decaf coffee and not worry about having to rush because the baby needed to be fed or had to get to bed. Wonderful!<br />
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And in a lot of ways it was wonderful. I got to catch up with my friend. I got to enjoy an entire cup of coffee uninterrupted (and if you are a coffee drinking mom you know just how wonderful that is). I got to be outside of my house. </div>
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Then there was the part that was not so wonderful. The part I am still struggling with. Identity. As I sat in this cute coffee shop I looked at my friend. She sat across from me sporting really, really cute patent, gray heels, a black sweater, mustard scarf and jeans. She was wearing heels on a Saturday night. And she had the most beautiful gray leather Nine West bag. She looked fabulous. She looked so put together. </div>
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I don't remember what I was wearing, but when I left my house I knew it was a step up from the yoga pants and t-shirt I had worn that day so I was feeling good. But something happened as I sat across from my beautiful friend as we talked about her job and how it was going. I started to feel lost. I was always the girl with the cute shoes. I was always the girl with the new, cute bag that I got for a killer bargain. I was the girl...</div>
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So, if I was that girl, who am I now? Who am I now that I can't afford new shoes or a cute handbag, even if it was a killer bargain? Who am I now that I don't wear heels. Like, ever. Who am I now that I don't even know what the latest trends are (except I do know this whole ugly tights style with normal length shirts is in, and I'm sorry, I just can't get on board. I could go on an entire rant, but maybe that will be an entire post). Who am I?</div>
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I think that entering different life stages, especially motherhood, has a way of bringing us to an identity crisis. For what seemed like a really long time I was a college student. Then I graduated. That was a tough identity crisis transition. I worked for a few years with high school kids. That job ended and I didn't know what to do with my life because for two years I was the girl who worked with high school kids. </div>
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Here's what I'm learning and in no way have fully grasped- I can say until I'm blue in the face that my identity is in Christ, but if I sit in a coffee shop and wrestle with who I am because my shoes aren't cute than I do not fully believe my identity is in Christ and I need to continue to learn who I am in Him. I know in my head who I am in Him. I know what the Bible says about who I am. But I am not believing it.</div>
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So, I want to post a video I watched today that my friend shared on Facebook. I hope that it encourages you the way it encouraged me. And I hope today, whether you have the cutest shoes, or you, like me, are wearing your worn out, old, stinky running sneakers that you would know that you, sweet reader, are so much more. I hope today, we (yep, I'm writing this for me, too) believe we are who God says we are and we stop limiting our identity to what we wear, what we've grown up believing about ourselves, and/or what others say we are.</div>
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You are loved. You are created in God's image to be loved and to be known by Him. And trust me on this one, He's so much more than an amazing pair of shoes or a handbag. And we're created for more than cute shoes and name brand handbags. </div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWi5iXnguTU&list=PLm4vXA2z3GzTzaVGLmCy23n6afke56c7U">Message to All Women</a> Click that link to watch the video!!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-67838359968116907362013-09-09T12:38:00.000-07:002013-09-09T12:38:29.089-07:00Hello Monday!I've been following this blog <a href="http://www.lisaleonardonline.com/blog/">http://www.lisaleonardonline.com/blog/</a> by Lisa Leonard for a while. I absolutely LOVE her jewelry. I have received two pieces (the Mama necklace and the Love is my Anchor necklace) as gifts and they are perfect- meaningful, beautiful, fun to wear! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apparently the dog crate is the new exciting thing!</td></tr>
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So today I decided to link up and say Hello the way Lisa does every Monday. Let's go!<br />
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Hello Weight Watchers! I missed not having a meeting last week because it was Labor day!</div>
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Hello 49.2 pounds- which is what I've currently lost. Holla!</div>
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Hello starting up working out again after a little summer hiatus. Jillian Michaels, you always kick me into shape in the best way!</div>
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Hello napping baby, which is why I have time to sit and write this!</div>
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Hello warmer weather- could it be the last warm up before fall?</div>
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Hello cleaning my kitchen and cooking dinners- there is something about the structure of Autumn that I absolutely love and is motivating to me!</div>
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Hello Sully's first haircut! Given by my mother in law- he looks so grown up even though there wasn't much to trim off.</div>
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Hello trip to Rochester to visit my grandma and hopefully my first trip to Trader Joe's!</div>
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Hello trying to be more consistent blogging- let's see how this goes. </div>
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How about you? What are you saying Hello to this week? </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-886093197798746652013-09-04T20:18:00.001-07:002013-09-05T14:28:54.768-07:00Trade itDo you want to know how God taught me a truth the other day? C'mon, you do, don't you? If you are thinking it was during some quiet, serene, peace filled moment, you are wrong.<br />
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If you are thinking it was when my one year old threw a temper tantrum over an empty sippy cup, then I would have to ask if you are stalking me, because you are right on! Go you. But stop stalking me. Not cool.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkO0p7896Uz_d3H_YzOhwrlrcurROD8WSM7HtdMMV3L3jXZK_RaNtUWebWvveW_JIbWWYtqD9w9JUdvxsA_qpfg_UWAq5C1dQOn9pfoncsDHu86Kde1QUdvFyGx8hRBCQq4-pPiss-QQY/s1600/IMG_0052.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/AVvXsEgkO0p7896Uz_d3H_YzOhwrlrcurROD8WSM7HtdMMV3L3jXZK_RaNtUWebWvveW_JIbWWYtqD9w9JUdvxsA_qpfg_UWAq5C1dQOn9pfoncsDHu86Kde1QUdvFyGx8hRBCQq4-pPiss-QQY/s320/IMG_0052.JPG" width="320" /></a>On the floor was an empty sippy cup. It had previously been filled with water that Sully had finished. He was playing on the floor and came across the sippy. He picked it up and was trying to drink it. It was empty. </div>
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I see this. I go and fill a new sippy cup with milk and I try to hand that to him. He then throws a temper tantrum because he does not want to give up the empty sippy cup. Did I mention that it was empty? I tried to take away the empty cup to hand him the full cup. He didn't want it and he threw a temper tantrum complete with rolling on the floor.</div>
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It's silly, isn't it? But I do the same thing. There have been and there are so many things in my life that just don't satisfy my soul. They are empty and they leave me empty. But I fight to keep them. I turn to them to fill me (eating, shopping, vacations, security this side of heaven, trying to keep up with Jonses' even though I don't even know who they are). They don't fill me. They never will. </div>
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And God, who created me with a hole meant just for Him, stands before me, offering me all I ever need, offering all that will satisfy my thirsty soul, and I see Him. But I cling to my empty cup. </div>
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All Sully wanted was something to drink. And as his mom I was offering him something good- milk that will satisfy his thirst and nourish his body. It's not that I wanted to deprive him of something good, it's that compared to what I had, what he held in his hands just wasn't that good. In fact, what he held in his chubby little fingers didn't even compare! </div>
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My cup is empty. Whatever I try to fill myself with other than the Lord; His truth, His word, His love, does not even compare. But when I let go and when I surrender my empty cup to Jesus, He fills me. My cup overflows in the best possible way. </div>
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One day I will stand before the Lord of the universe, and the truth is, the empty sippy cups I hold in my hands will look even more empty compared to Him. I don't want to waste this life holding an empty cup. </div>
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If you've ever clung to an empty cup, or are clinging, here is the good news. You didn't miss your chance to trade it. The Lord, in all His mercy, in all His love, wants to trade you. He wants to take your empty cup and fill you up with His love and His grace. He did all the work. You just need to open your hands to receive it. He loves you. God is crazy about you. And what He wants you to have, a relationship with Him, will fill your soul like nothing else, and probably knock your socks off, too! </div>
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Thanks for stopping by today! Here's to cups that overflow!</div>
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Danielle</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-26021230369602210022013-08-17T20:01:00.004-07:002013-08-17T20:01:52.093-07:00Happy Birthday, Sully!Dear Sullivan,<div>
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It was one year ago that you graced us with your presence after four nights of letting us know you were on your way. It was one year ago that I experienced what real pain felt like and would realize after holding you in my arms those first moments that you were worth it. Did you hear me? You were worth it. You still are. </div>
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It was one year ago when I realized that somehow although I just met you it was like you'd been around forever. It was one year ago when I realized that I was capable of loving more than I had ever imagined loving a little being that would poop on me. I love the Lord. Completely. I love your father, unconditionally. But you, you I love with a fierce, mama love. I don't have to protect the Lord. I don't have to protect your dad. But you, you I am responsible for, to love and protect and train. </div>
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It was one year ago that I began to understand better God's love for us. Holding you, so little, so needing me, unable to do anything for me, made me realize that God's love for humanity has nothing to do with us and everything to do with Him. It has nothing to do with what I bring to the table because in light of who God is, I don't really bring anything to the table. In light of who God is, I'm a helpless baby. But He loves fully, completely, fiercely. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsGSh7OC5XcvOYcDs14Eaa3gToS5XTYvFWTJCYX9QSiS-imsEvEiIdD-t7PFI4yw-q9VdV9e_W3iav9qK3C7oCYbiTcY5iUHabz6P_Cv6uYwPGIy2Wn8vawCVEm05TZKUpkJWdZUCAYCk/s1600/IMG_0075.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/AVvXsEhsGSh7OC5XcvOYcDs14Eaa3gToS5XTYvFWTJCYX9QSiS-imsEvEiIdD-t7PFI4yw-q9VdV9e_W3iav9qK3C7oCYbiTcY5iUHabz6P_Cv6uYwPGIy2Wn8vawCVEm05TZKUpkJWdZUCAYCk/s320/IMG_0075.JPG" width="320" /></a>It was one year ago today that I realized it doesn't matter what you do or who you become- that I will always be your mama and I will always love you. And it clicked again, that God loves us as a parent and He loves us in that way.</div>
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A lot has happened this year. And a very wise friend told me that the days are long but the years are short. That is the truth. Sometimes I get through a Monday and feel like I've just walked through an entire week. But waking you up on your birthday I realized how fast this year went. How in 12 short months you have grown up before my very eyes. </div>
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<b>So, my sweet Sully, This is what I want to say to you:</b> That I love you. I'm crazy about you, kid. You make me laugh. Your hugs, they are the BEST hugs. And you have a smile that just lights up a room. You, my sweet boy, are a gift to me. To our family. God has done a work in my heart this year, He's refined me in ways I didn't see coming and I just don't think that it's a coincidence that the things He's done have been the year you've been in my life. And I know the refining, though not always easy, will help me to be a better mom to you. My heart is continually humbled when I think about getting to be your mom. I <b>love</b> being your mom. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVTKT0huS9PbhtRUw62fzD1KTDIarTR7iw4PWHDuy-ppdl1DAROxOreW06n4KMy7u5BrwvGPvm08aVmKuCHB1bvLVVo3T2SgyAWVPePCz7RZW7Vczib0BkgVq_f4NIWobheXTJittW18Q/s1600/IMG_0096.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/AVvXsEgVTKT0huS9PbhtRUw62fzD1KTDIarTR7iw4PWHDuy-ppdl1DAROxOreW06n4KMy7u5BrwvGPvm08aVmKuCHB1bvLVVo3T2SgyAWVPePCz7RZW7Vczib0BkgVq_f4NIWobheXTJittW18Q/s320/IMG_0096.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>And here's my dream for you: </b> That you would love God with every fiber of your being and that you would care more about what He thinks about you and what you're doing than anyone else. And that you would love your family well. That you would enjoy time with us and that you would know that family is a gift. And I really want you to have an honest relationship with your dad and me. I want to be the kind of mom where you can cut through the niceties and say it like it is because you know that I will keep walking with you. I want you to take risks, make mistakes, and when you fail, I want you to learn and grow from them. I want you to love well and be loved well. I want you to grow up and be who God created you to be. And I want you to take note from the godly men that God has put in your life- your dad, grandpa, uncle Todd and uncle Chad- lean on them, learn from them, be real with them. They love you and I can't think of a better group of men who will model for you what it means to love Jesus and to run after Him.</div>
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Happy Birthday, Sully. Here's to many more! </div>
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Love you (to pieces!),</div>
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your Mama</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-56609657779387565482013-06-05T18:01:00.000-07:002013-06-05T18:01:24.537-07:00Fighting the SnuggleI've been reading a lot in the book of Luke lately and there is a phrase that I just feel I connect with. Mary, Jesus' mama, treasured things up in her heart and pondered them. I do that. It's why I haven't written in so long. Life has been happening and I keep treasuring and pondering. <br />
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But tonight I sit at my computer after what feels like a long couple of days of mothering and I could just weep. Not sad weep. But not necessarily happy weep, either. Just weep. Maybe it's too much treasured in my heart getting it all out weeping. None the less. I could weep.<br />
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There are lots of things going on right now and I don't want to get into all of them. Some are incredible answers to prayer and just downright, knock your socks off, I don't deserve blessings from a very loving, Almighty God and other things are a little bit tougher. And a couple things are really tough. <br />
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Sully is getting his two front teeth. It's been going on since Sunday. Poor little guy has swollen gums and he had a high fever, then a low fever and now no fever but is totally miserable. So, tonight, as I was tired of the endless cycle of what feels like: make breakfast, clean up, change diaper, prepare lunch, clean up lunch, change diaper, change diaper, change diaper, cook dinner, clean up dinner, Sully was done. He was just done. He didn't want me. He didn't want Ryan. He didn't want to be in his walker. It was time for a bath (which normally he loves) and he didn't really want that either. In fact, he kept trying to stand up in the tub, it was like he was doing everything in his power to get out of the tub. It didn't matter where he was or who he was with he was just not happy.<br />
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I got him dried off and ready for bed and I started our night time routine of snuggling. He just kept pushing me away. The tired, exhausted, overwhelmed mama wanted to just put him in his crib and be done. The tenderhearted mama that cherishes that time wanted to hold him so close that he would just melt and give in to the snuggle.<br />
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I went with the tenderhearted mama approach and eventually he calmed and then thirty seconds into his crib he was asleep. I came downstairs and sat here at my computer. I realized I was miserable today, too. I realized I've been miserable for a few days now. Tired. Overwhelmed. Emotionally tired. Sully stiff arms me when I'm holding him and he doesn't want to be held. I do the same thing to God. I did it today. And in the quiet of tonight, as I sat here, alone, I knew I was guilty of that today. I just wanted to be left alone and I was done. I don't want to be loved on or encouraged or reminded that the God of the universe loves me with an everlasting love. I just want to fight. I want to push. I want to kick and cry. <br />
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Thankfully, I don't think God ever has to wrestle with, "What approach should I take with my children?" Yes, he speaks hard truths. Yes, there are consequences to our sin. But He always, always, forever and always goes the way of love. It's truth spoken in love. It's discipline because He loves. It's consequences so we remember HE is better than whatever shiny thing we went and ran after... again. <br />
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So, His tender voice of love tonight, that spoke truth to my heart, brought me running back to the One who gives rest to the weary and whose yoke is easy and whose burden is light. Yes, I am tired. But in Him I have rest for my weary soul. In Him, I have life abundantly. I am overwhelmed but in Him I can lay my burdens down and pick up peace. Yes, I am emotionally drained but He is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. <br />
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I don't know what things you are pondering in your heart. I don't know if you can relate to my tired with life feeling today or not. Regardless, wherever you are, whatever you're treasuring in your heart or whatever you are walking through, crawling through, or trudging through, in Christ is love, peace and life that brims over the top of cup. If you need to lay down some burdens tonight, I'm right there with you. <br />
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<span class="text Matt-11-28" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj"><span class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; vertical-align: top;"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><b><u>Matthew 11:28-30</u></b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="text Matt-11-28" id="en-NIV-23488" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj"><span class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">28 </span>“Come to me,<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23488D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></span> all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23488E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text Matt-11-29" id="en-NIV-23489" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj"><span class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">29 </span>Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23489F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)"></span> for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23489G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"></span><span class="text Matt-11-30" id="en-NIV-23490" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj"><span class="versenum" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;">30 </span>For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” </span></span><br />
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<span class="text Matt-11-30" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj"><span class="text Ps-73-26" id="en-NIV-15047" style="position: relative;"><b><u>Psalm 73:26</u></b></span></span></span><br />
<span class="text Matt-11-30" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj"><span class="text Ps-73-26" style="position: relative;"> My flesh and my heart<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-15047A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></span> may fail,<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-15047B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></span></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-73-26" style="position: relative;">but God is the strength<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-15047C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></span> of my heart</span></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-73-26" style="position: relative;">and my portion<span class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-15047D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></span> forever. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-68496816572819882462013-05-09T12:54:00.000-07:002013-05-09T12:54:04.044-07:00Five Years Five years ago today, on a bright, cool, sunny, Friday I stood before the Lord, family and friends and I vowed to love my husband for better or for worse. I remember the day so well. I remember the days leading up to that day so well, even though at times, in the moment, they felt like such a blur. And that day, my life changed.<br />
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I'm not trying to be melodramatic (I don't really ever have to try to be melodramatic. It comes easily. It's a gift). But my life really did change. I went from living alone to living with Ryan. I went from having my own bank account to sharing one. One moment my last name was Adamski and the next it was Kader. One day I was a fiance and the next I was a wife. Life changed. And in my wildest dreams, as life happened, what it looks like today is not what I would have dreamed it looked like.<br />
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Well, I think I would have said on that beautiful May day five years into this marriage thing we probably would have a house and a baby. But although I may have uttered those words I certainly never stopped to really grasp what they would mean. It all seemed so far off. I have heard horror stories of people's first year of marriage. Ours was wonderful. Some of my favorite memories are from that first year. <br />
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And as I was awakened at 5 am this morning by a crying, crabby baby the thought that floated through my still sleepy mind was, "This isn't what I thought five years would look like." Because the truth is, even though a house and kids were totally in the picture for me at some point, they are, in essence, a lot less glamorous in real life than the dreams you dream on your wedding day. <br />
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Yes, I've been up since 5 am. Yes, I've had a fussy baby most of today. My house is a mess because my grand plans of picking up and cleaning and even mopping the floor today were met by a shortened nap time and a baby that chased me in his walker. Chased. Yes. Chased. I had to put on sneakers because he kept running over my toes. He kind of sang as he chased me around the first floor. It reminded me of a scene in The Walking Dead when the Governor is looking for Andrea and he is whistling. If you aren't familiar with that, then think of the Jaws theme. My 8 month old terrorized me today.<br />
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Totally not what I envisioned or dreamed of five years ago. But here's the truth that I kept reminding myself of today: Life was good before I had a baby. But life is also good now. And, Danielle, despite what you tend to tell yourself, your life was NOT that glamorous before a baby. <br />
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It's the grass is always greener mentality. If only I could sleep in once. If only I could leave my house without six bags on my shoulder and a baby carrier in the other. If only I could remember things again. If only I could... fill in the blank.<br />
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You may have a grass is greener situation, too. I've realized the problem with the grass theory is that I miss out on the very thing God has for me today, in my current season or situation. My eyes are fixated on something other than Him. When I take my eyes off the pasture I'm longing for and put them back on the Author and Perfector of my faith, Jesus, then I realize that I am incredibly grateful to build a life with a man that has stuck with me for better and worse. There have been better times and there have been worse times. And Ryan has walked with me through both. I realize that this little <strike> terror</strike> <strike>hell raiser</strike> beautiful baby boy is a gift and a reminder to me that God heals the deepest wounds and enables us to love others well. These days I love beyond what I ever thought possible. I was once broken. And loving others well once seemed like a hazy dream I had woken up from too soon; unable to fully grasp and definitely not reality. <br />
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So, today I want to wish Ryan a very Happy Anniversary. Ryan, you help make Jesus even more real to me by the way you love and sacrifice for our family. And I want to encourage you, sweet reader, to stop thinking the grass is greener. It may very well be. But you're not there. You're here. And by longing for over there I guarantee you're missing something this side of the pasture.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-76219251801067279192013-04-16T17:48:00.000-07:002013-04-16T17:48:26.234-07:00Words that StickHave you ever had someone say something to you that was so true that it just stuck on your heart like a thumb tack on a cork board? I have. It was years and years and years ago. That third "years" just made me feel a little old. <br />
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It was the summer after my freshman year in college. I was driving with a friend to meet other friends at a coffee shop and we started arguing. I honestly don't recall the details, because honestly, the details weren't all that important. It must have had something to do with me having an expectation and him not meeting it because what he said next, well, actually, what he yelled next, was, "You're always keeping score, Danielle." There were other words about nothing ever being enough but keeping score pierced my heart.<br />
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In the moment it pierced it in a hurtful way. In the moment of this conflict I felt small and angry. In that moment of driving in his beat up car, on the expressway on a cool summer night the lies that had long lived in my head pierced my heart, too. "It's always you. You'll never be cared about the way you want to be. Your own friends don't really even love you." <br />
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Thirteen years later and that night is as vivid in my mind as ever. Though I've long since lost touch with this friend his words that night still pierce my heart. But they pierce my heart in a life giving, God has redeemed me kind of way.<br />
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Let me share. I never did feel like people loved me the way I needed. The truth that I later came to realize was that only God could and the freedom of that truth set me free to love and be loved in a healthy way with healthy expectations. And I did keep score. I still have a roladex in my head and can remember way too many things but nowadays that roladex is less about keeping score and more about just remembering. Because, the truth that my friend communicated to me that night was a truth I would need to learn for every relationship in my life. And it's a truth that has helped me to have a better marriage.<br />
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Ryan and I had a rough weekend. I was really sick and when I get sick I seem to be a less effective communicator. Instead of asking for things I think he should just automatically know. When I'm sick, why doesn't my husband become a mind reader? So, we had it out on Sunday. And those sweet, truth filled words spoken to me 13 years ago rang through my head as they tend to do whenever Ryan and I fight. Those words have become a boundary for me to not bring anything else into the ring except the current issue at hand. Ryan not being a mind reader is not grounds for me to list the last 10 times he's failed to meet my expectations. The truth of those words combined with the work God has done in my own heart and the power of forgiveness I've experienced through Christ set a boundary for me. And they release me from living in a really ugly place of keeping score and feeling as if people need to meet a certain score.<br />
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And the real issue obviously isn't that my husband can't read my mind. It's that I failed to communicate. Communication is so important. I know you probably know that. I know you probably don't have communication issues in any of your relationships but man, I need that reminder sometimes!<br />
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It makes me smile because my friend from long ago has no idea that those words he yelled at me have pierced my heart in a positive way. And I love that in the moment I did not know that God had a plan for those words, for that truth and that He would ultimately redeem that in me. Mmmph, isn't that just like God? He's not a God of keeping score. When He forgives, He forgives. He takes the sin away. He doesn't condemn. And when he deals with an issue in us, He doesn't dredge stuff up just to make us feel bad. Or just to make a point that yep, we're not good enough. He only brings up the stuff He will deal with. The stuff He wants to free us from. The stuff we're settling for that's less than Him. And He loves us through it with all the grace of a Savior that took our place and never looked back. With all the grace of the One who created heaven and earth and then humbly came, put on some skin, lived among us, God with us, died on a cross and conquered death does. <br />
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Let's not keep score today. Let's love as people who have been set free. Let's forgive as those who have been forgiven and didn't deserve it. Let's choose to live today humbly and gently with hearts pierced by the truth of who God is and how much He loves us.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-34867362110063133192013-04-05T07:45:00.000-07:002013-04-05T07:45:09.015-07:00Gratitude FridayI drove back to my hometown yesterday and I took some time to talk to God about some things I was grateful for. I realized it had been a while since I did that. It was refreshing to take my eyes off of the hard things and place them back on Him. So, here is a shortened list of some things I'm grateful for. I would encourage you to do the same!<div>
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1) Grateful for a loving husband and little boy that can melt my heart just by putting his head on my shoulder.</div>
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2) Grateful for a car, that although cost us some money this week to fix, is now safe to cart that little guy around in. And silly as it may sound, I really like my Toyota Corolla. I'll be sad when it's time here is done.</div>
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3) Grateful for old friends that you can pick right up where you left off with them. I shared a yummy lunch with an old friend yesterday. That time was a gift.</div>
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4) I am incredibly grateful for sunshine. I didn't realize how the dreary days here have taken a toll on my overall attitude. Love me some sunshine!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mn18-daKQ19SyKPGh6yYmBjhisN4SRckbAPPRTGIVNaPE3GxpwsYxMTMY2IPNvQ96DSLm5tUFx60PQMfuq4hyphenhyphen1Vpjawkf5k6tzsYPDG68rAcdIp8G9CqtR4AhrNIwkBpr_vQ3aKXuzM/s1600/IMG_1172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mn18-daKQ19SyKPGh6yYmBjhisN4SRckbAPPRTGIVNaPE3GxpwsYxMTMY2IPNvQ96DSLm5tUFx60PQMfuq4hyphenhyphen1Vpjawkf5k6tzsYPDG68rAcdIp8G9CqtR4AhrNIwkBpr_vQ3aKXuzM/s200/IMG_1172.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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5) I am grateful for random phone calls from friends. I am generally not a phone talker, but I realized how loved I feel when I get a phone call out of the blue from a friend. </div>
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6) Finally, I am really grateful for our dog. I was gone all day yesterday and when I came home it was like his world just got better. He would have crawled in my lap if I would have let him (and he's 70 lbs. Not a lap dog, but don't tell him that). He didn't leave my side. That furry <strike>little</strike> big mutt makes my heart smile. </div>
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Happy Friday! Enjoy whatever this day holds. If it's hard stuff then enjoy WHO holds this day. Remember, God's mercies are new every morning. He is faithful. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-65278604036296390092013-03-14T06:17:00.000-07:002013-03-14T06:17:23.107-07:00Day 20 The Legacy of a MomWhat is going on with all the sickness going around? Last week we battled the stomach bug this week Sully's got a horrible cough and snot coming out of his nose 24/7. To quote my husband, "I thought it was a booger, but itsnot." Ha! Love that old man humor.<br />
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Keep on track, Danielle. Keep on track. So, tonight I put Sully down for bed. And he woke up a few times. I recently went in and picked him up. I don't normally do this since we were really pro sleep training. And it worked since he can put himself back to sleep. But I know he's not feeling well and I just wanted to comfort him. So, I scooped him up and he just laid his little head on my shoulder. I melted.<br />
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My mama heart was bursting! It's been months since he's done this. It used to happen the first two months all the time. I would get up to nurse him and it was part of our routine. But it's been so long, I realized how much I missed that sweet little boy's head on my shoulder. <br />
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I sat in the glider in his room to savor this moment. To just be. My baby in my arms, asleep. And I sang a song to him. And then I recited the line from that book, the one that every mother with a son has, "I'll like you forever, I'll love you for always, as long as I'm living my baby you'll be." I smiled. And then I started to cry.<br />
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I thought how really, as long as he is alive, I will always be his mama. Even when I get to go home to Jesus I will still be his mama. There will not be a day he walks this earth where that won't be true. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9npOQG_jKryDF_W115CcfqNQDnSDLQWF53qJOKamsgrHWLRQ7s7szmSsLZtfExP_wb6bW0b4ijf4NQTjw0zJZiMTdR77aaQ8hQr_ZfCE-PO4JgwU7K4kfS-KCg74-x2QqHWo_JSwaLPQ/s1600/IMG_1011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9npOQG_jKryDF_W115CcfqNQDnSDLQWF53qJOKamsgrHWLRQ7s7szmSsLZtfExP_wb6bW0b4ijf4NQTjw0zJZiMTdR77aaQ8hQr_ZfCE-PO4JgwU7K4kfS-KCg74-x2QqHWo_JSwaLPQ/s320/IMG_1011.JPG" width="320" /></a>I thought about the legacy I can leave my son. I thought about the things I do now that would live on long after I'm gone. I have a friend and his mom passed away when he was young. Her memory is precious. She left a legacy. I didn't have that with my mom. I don't have that. What she left me was more hurt than love. More what not to do's than how to's. I don't want that for Sully. <br />
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As moms we have this incredible gift to shape our kids. To love them. To mold them. To see their potential, their light, their personalities and to train them up and build them up and send them out into a world that is in desperate need of people that speak truth, live out grace and are humble. The world doesn't need more people that believe they are worthless, or live to only fulfill their own desires. <br />
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So, here is what I want my son to know. To believe. To carry with him all his days on this earth.<br />
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Dear Sullivan,<br />
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I love you to the moon and back. Don't you ever doubt that. And although you mean more to me than you will ever be able to know (well, until you have a child of your own), the world does not, nor should it, revolve around you. I don't mean that to sound harsh, my sweet boy. But what this world needs is more people that are set on loving others even though there is a cost. It needs less people trying to satisfy needs that things in this world can never satisfy and more people that are set to fix their eyes on Jesus, love as He loved, to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with God.<br />
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You are strong enough. You are enough. Because God created you. Because He loves you. Because His promise is to never leave you or forsake you. When you are weak, He is strong. Be a voice of truth in the midst of so much junk, so many lies. Be a man of grace and don't hold a grudge.<br />
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Love well. Whatever you do, do it well. Choose your words wisely. Invest in your family. Have fun but not at others expense. Laugh. Laugh a lot. Smile because you have the BEST smile. And know, please, please know, I have prayed for you all the days of your little life. And long after I am gone, my prayers for you will live on.<br />
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I hope to spend many, many, many more years with you building a legacy. I love you. to pieces. to the moon and back.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSE4AZXlj5A9P9G-G8olrzrRUJBPm_5gpqvcP9CYGDfpbxYooU6aCOE3oi1juEcybj3xdjWCkFYKtltyobdQP0mbOsZUn1SLyKkq-CLtyfhTrl3o7sgl7cKsrhOaD9WzrE15qeO29bmH0/s1600/IMG_1054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSE4AZXlj5A9P9G-G8olrzrRUJBPm_5gpqvcP9CYGDfpbxYooU6aCOE3oi1juEcybj3xdjWCkFYKtltyobdQP0mbOsZUn1SLyKkq-CLtyfhTrl3o7sgl7cKsrhOaD9WzrE15qeO29bmH0/s320/IMG_1054.JPG" width="320" /></a>Love,<br />
Your Mom<br />
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My 20 days of being real has come to an end. My plan is to keep blogging. My hope is that you will keep reading. And my encouragement to you today is this: You are enough. You are loved. You were created for a purpose. Love well. Leave a legacy.<br />
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Be blessed today sweet reader. Be blessed.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-14125963991207710202013-03-13T13:02:00.001-07:002013-03-13T13:02:14.662-07:00Day 19 This is ChurchCan I be absolutely, completely honest with you right now? Instead of sitting at this computer I desperately want to turn on the tv and catch up on Pretty Little Liars. Sigh. Don't judge me on my tween television picks. Or the fact that it's the middle of the day and I want to veg on the couch. <br />
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But instead I'm here, in front of my computer, on Day 19 of being real. When I started this blogging journey I thought I would long be done before the middle of January. I definitely thought I would be done before February ever came and went. But it's March. It's March.<br />
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Anyways, here's what I want to share. Do you go to church? I go. Most Sundays. We skipped last week. Yep, we totally skipped church. But here's what I realized today. I've been to church three times this week... actually, four... nope, make it five.<br />
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We have a friend who says, "That's church!" when something real happens. My husband shared that with me and I smiled and I thought, it's pretty true. I'm not dogging on church on Sundays. Go. I like it. Find a church that teaches the Bible and believes that God is good, just and loving; One that believes Jesus is God with skin on and lived a sinless life, died on the cross for you, for me, and rose on the third day to ultimately give us the greatest gift we could ever know- life with God, a relationship with Him and an eternity with Him.<br />
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But church can happen every day. I sat at my dining room table last night as a friend poured out her heart. I sat there asking some tough questions and following up with some loving truth. She cried. My heart was tendered. It was doing very real life with another person centered around the truth of who God is and the truth of who He says we are. That's church. My heart praised him when she left my house because He showed up. Right there. In my little dining room. <br />
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Today another sweet friend sat at the very same table. And we laughed and cried. We talked about hard, real stuff. It was honest. Soul wrenching honest. And we spoke truth of who God is and the amazing, unpredictable ways that He works. He was glorified. And that was church.<br />
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Earlier I spent almost more than an hour on the phone with a friend and again, there were tears and truth and love. There was forgiveness and grace. Two lives intertwined by a loving Heavenly Father who has created us to do life together. That was church.<br />
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Tuesday mornings you can find me gathered around a table with a group of women that I am humbled and honored to know. I get to see them for Bible study and there is honesty and depth centered around God's word. And I am continually challenged as they share their lives, their hopes, their fears, what God is calling them to and how they are following Him. Yep, that's church.<br />
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And on Monday nights you can find me sitting in a comfy chair at Starbucks with two or three other women. We are all moms. We are all in this following God thing together. Some Mondays it's chit chat and fun. But some Mondays, like this week, it gets messy. Some Mondays we talk about our fears, our short comings, What we think God is doing, what we want Him to do and ultimately how we have to trust that His ways are the best ways. That's church. Christ centered, God glorified truth.<br />
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God shows up in every day places at normal hum drum times. And I realized this week that I need to start recognizing Him in those every day moments. Years ago God re-wired my mindset to know that ministry isn't something you do where you raise support. Ministry is wherever you are. Your work place, your neighborhood, at the mall or Target. It's loving the people around you. It's modeling Christ and living for Him wherever you are. (Thank you, Amy and Kristie for speaking that truth into this girl's life. It took a while, but ultimately the Holy Spirit got that through my thick skull!). <br />
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I think too often I think of church as a place. It's the big building in the northtowns that I go to on Sundays. And then it's over and I can check it off my list. But I don't ever think that is how God desired or designed church to be. In Acts church happened when a bunch of believers were together. They preached the gospel, they ate together and fellowshipped together. They praised God together and did life together. God was glorified and the news about Jesus spread. I want to live a life like that. Fear often holds me back. Fear of being let down by people or letting people down. Fear of the mess that comes when my life is intertwined with anothers. But today God spoke very clearly to me that despite the messy-ness and the difficulty of doing life with people who might not see things exactly as you do, it's worth it. Push past the fear because it's totally worth it.<br />
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How about you? Have you done church this week? I know it's not easy. Don't let fear win. You were created for more. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-54693162890507921852013-03-04T13:09:00.000-08:002013-03-04T13:09:02.598-08:00Day 18 of Being Real- Dear New MomI was lying in bed the other night thinking through the past six months of being a mom. I began to write a letter to myself- to the pregnant me- of all the things I wish I would have known. I'll share what ran through my head with the disclaimer that 1) Motherhood isn't one of a kind for everyone. What works for me won't necessarily work for you. What works for my kid might not work for your kid. And we need to stop judging each other and start banding together and encouraging one another and 2) Even if someone would have told me everything in this letter while I was pregnant (and I'm sure people told me some of it) it doesn't mean I would have gotten it. You know, really understood it, until I walked through it myself. And I'm sure there would have been things I would have turned my nose up at that now I know are real things. <br />
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So, if you are a new mom, or a soon to be mom, or your kids are grown, or you don't have kids, just enjoy this letter. From me in the present to pregnant me.<br />
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Dear Soon to be Mama,<br />
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Currently your body is changing in crazy ways. Your belly is growing, your bladder is shrinking and you are starting to walk like Winnie the Pooh, but in a not as cute way. Don't fret. Soon enough that little one will be here and everything you've learned up until this point will not matter.<br />
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Let's start with the hospital visit. I know you're scared of birth. I know you are worried about the pain. You will get through it. It will hurt. A lot. More than anything you've ever experienced before in your life. And you will sit in that hospital bed wondering why only one person (Thank you, Patty, in Accounting) talked to you about back labor. You will wonder, as you grip the hospital bed, as you sweat more than you do when you are working out to a Jillian Michaels work out dvd, if they purposely don't tell you about back labor because you would have chosen to NEVER get pregnant in the first place. You will think back to all of those Baby Stories you watched on TLC and not remember a single mom having back labor. But you'll endure. Get the epidural. Don't be a hero. There's no medal. And no, despite what others have said, your baby will not come out drugged or sluggish and yes, he will latch on to your breast right away. <br />
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Then he's here. And now you are heading home from the hospital. And here is where the real need to know wisdom comes. After about 7 months of attention for being pregnant, having doors opened for you, bags carried, smiles and questions about, "When are you due," all of a sudden you will no longer matter. It doesn't matter that you are still in pain from birthing a 9 lb 2 oz baby. It doesn't matter that you fractured your tail bone in labor. It also doesn't matter that you will not be able to wipe your lady parts for about a month but will resort to "washing" them with the squirt bottle only one friend told you about before you gave birth. Also, the mesh underwear you were so afraid of will be the most comfortable thing you will wear for about a week. <br />
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You will have visitors, but they will just come to see the little bundle of love that latches on to you roughly every 2-3 hours. You will get really comfortable with people seeing your breasts. After all, after giving birth and having just about everyone and their mother up in your biz-ness you will eventually be more comfortable with your body than you probably should be. You will start to feel like you only matter because of the milk you are producing. You are more than breast milk. Remember that. <br />
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It's ok if one night when you are driving home with your husband after trying to get out of the house for a bit with the baby but nothing went as planned and it turned out to be a disastrous night because you forgot the baby wipes and the hand sanitizer, if you find yourself sobbing. If you find yourself uttering the words, "What have we done? I miss the way things were," it's COMPLETELY normal. No one talks about this. But it's normal. You're not a bad mom. Life has just completely changed and it's ok to grieve your former way of life. You may have thought that your former way of life wasn't that great. It probably wasn't super exciting. I mean, you're not a jet setter. You haven't been to Paris. But last minute plans to go to dinner or running errands all day without a set schedule will seem more glamorous than being Leonardo DiCaprio's date to the Oscars. <br />
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You will learn to breastfeed ANYWHERE. Car? Check! Starbucks? Check! Panera? Check! Wegman's? Yep. At church? Yes, but in the nursing room, of course. I mean, they have a glider in there! You will also become strangely obsessed with poop. You will know how many times a day your little one has pooped. If it's the right color and consistency and if he is one poop short a day this will become something that you slightly worry about. Then, whew! He poops a big one that leaks everywhere but you couldn't be happier. Because he's healthy and pooping! <br />
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Speaking of poop- and other bodily functions. You will get pooped on. It will happen. The poop does slow down. Really. I promise. Have hope. You will also get spit up on, peed on and eventually probably thrown up on. Take pride. It's a right of passage.<br />
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Also, you will no longer be the center of your world. You will find that you are hungry but you have to feed the baby. You will feed the baby. Baby will come first. You will mourn your old ways but also be really really happy that this is your current life. Some days will be hard. Some days you will think you are going to pull your hair out. Some days you will think that one child is enough. Is being an only child so bad? And then you will pick him up from his nap and he'll nestle into you and you start thinking that maybe next February would be a good time to start trying for another baby.<br />
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And one more thing. Be gracious. Be gracious to yourself and allow yourself to make mistakes. This is new. New for you. New for baby. Be gracious to others that give you advice or just want to help. Be humble enough to know that you don't know it all. And maybe their way could work. Be humble enough to admit you need help when you do, indeed, need help. Be confident that you are doing your best. And be grateful that kids are so darn resilient. You can do this. It won't be easy. Literally EVERYTHING will change. You will forever be changed, too. The way you look at life, the way you look at other moms, the way you look at yourself, it will change. You will grow. You will cry. You will eventually get to use toilet paper again and in roughly 6 1/2 months that tailbone will be just about good as new. <br />
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Love to you, new mom. You're going to do great even though you will question yourself every single step of the way.<br />
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Danielle<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-38488717226152053872013-02-06T07:48:00.000-08:002013-02-06T07:48:09.419-08:00Day 17- You are Not ForgottenJust a quick note this morning while Sully is happy for a few minutes in his jumper. He is "talking" away. I keep joking with Ryan that once he really does learn to talk I will be more exhausted than ever because I honestly think he will talk ALL day. "Mom, did you know that the human head weighs eight pounds? Mom, why is the sky blue? Mom. Mom. Mom! Mommy! Mama mama mama! How come you are pulling your hair out?"<br />
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Just kidding and back on topic...<br />
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Mornings when I don't have anywhere to be I try to get up before Sullivan. I turn on the Keurig and pick out whatever coffee I feel suits me that morning. Lately, I've been on a total Starbucks Veranda kick. I add the half and half and usually one packet of NuStevia. I sit at the dining room table and I meet with God. Lately my time with Him has been focused on me asking Him what to pray for Sullivan. Today was spent praying for some very loved and special people in my life. And about a half hour later I heard Sully wake up. Normally he will just talk and giggle and coo in his crib until I get him. But this morning was a little different.<br />
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This morning he woke up crying. Sometimes he settles back to sleep so I waited a few minutes. When I knew he was up for good I grabbed his bottle and started to get it ready. I like to be able to get him up and changed and dressed and then bring him down and give him his bottle right away. So, he was crying and I was getting his bottle ready. <br />
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And I felt the Holy Spirit nudging my spirit with this verse,“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!" Isaiah 49:15. I immediately thought about how Sully, alone in his crib, crying out for me to be picked up, held, changed and snuggled, didn't know that his mother was downstairs listening to his cries. He didn't realize that not only was I hearing Him but that I was actually in the process of preparing what he needed for the morning. I was acting on his behalf. But he didn't know. He felt lonely. He felt ready to be out of his crib and into a new place. He wanted his circumstances to change.<br />
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I had not forgotten him. And as the Holy Spirit nudged me I thought about the countless times I've been in Sully's place. A place that felt very lonely. A place that I was ready to be done with. And a place where no matter how loud I cried out it had seemed as if God had forgotten me. <br />
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I know I'm not alone. I read the Psalms and I know that David had felt it, too. I have friends that are in that place right now. Here is the truth. Whatever hard season you are in, God hears your cries. He knows just what you are saying to Him by either your words or actions. Be encouraged that just as Sully couldn't see me working diligently to get his bottle ready, we don't always see God working in the midst of us. Your season may be taking everything out of you right now. God has not forgotten you. He has compassion on you. He's working in and through you and He will have ready whatever you need whenever you need it. It may not be what you think you need. But it will be what you really, truly need.<br />
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Take courage today, sweet soul, to keep trusting Jesus. He is for you. He has not forgotten you.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3072272863839858360.post-69299272919655228752013-01-30T18:34:00.000-08:002013-01-30T18:34:58.918-08:00Day 16 Prayer In light of being real I want to take this opportunity to share with you the biggest lesson I am learning right now. I haven't mastered it, I am in the midst of learning it. It's a game changer for me. I think it will be life changing. Do you know what it is? I'm learning to pray for my child.<br />
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Was that anti-climatic? Were you expecting something more exciting? I am learning to pray as long as it takes prayers for Sully. And I am really, really excited about it. I am also learning the power of speaking truth into his little being. I know he can't understand it now, but some day he will and he will grow up being bathed in truth the way I wasn't.<br />
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As I've shared in many a post before my life as a kid wasn't easy. It held lots of loss, rejection, fear and insecurity. There were some really dark moments. There were dark moments of depression but also dark moments that were circumstantial, like the night before kindergarten when my mom took me shopping for new sneakers and a new back pack. Most moms would drive their child to the store and then maybe on the way home stop at Dairy Queen for an ice cream cone. Not my mama. She took me to the store and then we stopped in the hood so she could score some drugs. She left the car running with me in it as she stood on the curb making the deal. That's when a young man jumped in the car, stared in my face and grabbed my mom's purse that was sitting right next to me. I thought in that split second he was going to take me. <br />
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I can look back on my life and see God's hand all over it way before I ever knew who He was or that He loved me. I want to share the "aha" moment I had a few weeks ago. My mother and father-in-law have always told me they prayed for me ever since Ryan was a baby. They continually prayed for whoever Ryan would marry. Do you know the grace and the truth that washed over me one night not too long ago? In the darkest, scariest, loneliest moments of my life, they were praying for me. They didn't know that the girl Ryan would marry was at some point a little girl from a broken home who desperately needed prayer. They didn't know that she had hurts and baggage and scars too heavy to carry and too deep to fix. They just knew that they wanted to pray for the girl their son would someday fall in love with. <br />
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They prayed for me. It's a gift that means EVERYTHING to me. It's a gift that will forever grasp my heart and bring tears to my eyes. It's a gift I can never repay them for (although they might say that another grandchild wouldn't hurt). :) <br />
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That's what I want for Sullivan. I want to give him the gift of praying for him and praying for the girl he'll someday marry. She might not even be born yet, but I'm praying for her every day. And I want to speak truth into his life. Truth that he is a mighty warrior, a leader, respectful, kind and compassionate. I pray for him to love God with all his heart, soul, mind and strength and to love others just like Jesus did. I pray for him to have godly adventures and to take risks and not live in fear, just like the men of faith who have walked before him did, like David and Joshua. I am praying for him to follow Christ even when it's not easy and to stick up for others when it's the right thing to do. I am praying for him to be respectful and to have a teachable spirit, to listen to the still small voice of the Holy Spirit. I am praying for him that he will care more about people and helping them than he will about making more money or attaining more stuff. I will speak the truth that he is loved first and foremost by God and then by his parents. I whisper over him, even now, that he is fearfully and wonderfully made as it says in Psalm 139 and that God is always good. <br />
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I didn't grow up knowing or believing those truths. But I did grow up with someone praying for me. And I believe because of that I know and believe these truths now. Take some time today to pray for your kids. It's one of the best ways to say, "I love you."<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0