tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1395620151370769402024-02-22T08:02:57.919-08:00 Window Seat<center><em> A blog about what I observe, fancy, and ponder-looking out from my window seat at the world</em> </center>EmilysWindowSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16852880508892495406noreply@blogger.comBlogger126125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-40230506415303830022018-12-09T19:12:00.002-08:002023-12-18T05:59:23.506-08:00Just Some Thoughts<br />
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I wonder how much we know subconsciously. I was having a
pretend conversation today, I think I do this automatically as some sort of rehearsal
for any conversation I could possibly have. I can’t say it isn’t useful
(although I engage in it too often, I think) but conversations cannot really be
rehearsed. </div>
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You don’t always know the conversation you will have or how it will
turn even if you have an opening line you’ve practiced. Life isn’t scripted. </div>
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But,
more than important conversations I often have philosophical conversations. I
guess I am having a conversation with myself or some version of myself or some
person who is really a conglomeration of beliefs of various people I have met.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyway, the person
and I were talking about people and their stories. I wish I could write word
for word what I thought, but in my journal I wrote: “Do we sometimes know part
of a stranger’s story by reading their face? and by ‘knowing’ I don’t mean that
we can express it exactly. There is the saying ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’
which is entirely the opposite of what I am talking about.” Like what if our hearts know something about someone. Their kindredness with us. I think we know our kindred spirits. and I think we know that we have some sort of kindreness with another even if we cannot pinpoint what we are responding to yet. And sometimes we see their eyes and we appreciate the story even if we don't know the whole thing. </div>
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Recently, a Facebook friend posted a meme that said: “Audrey
Hepburn was the granddaughter of a baron, the daughter of a Nazi sympathizer,
spent her childhood and teens doing ballet to secretly raise money for the
Dutch resistance against the Nazis, and spent her post film career as a
goodwill ambassador of UNICEF, winning the presidential medal of freedom for
her efforts…And history remembers her as pretty.” I’ve thought about stuff like
that before. I think that with Audrey Hepburn and a lot of other women, people
are subconsciously enamored by her beauty because she was a badass. Women,
especially, are often lauded for their looks instead of accomplishments and it’s
sad. But I think a lot of women that are called “beautiful” are one who have
natural beauty that is enhanced by their (badass) strength, light and grace and
it adds an inexplicable element to the person’s beauty that people can often
only recognize and explain in superficial terms. </div>
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And as for beauty, there ARE beautiful things and people. We
are only fooling ourselves if we say that our eyes are not aesthetically
pleased. </div>
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So, I wonder about the subconscious and how much it knows
and discerns. It is scoffed at along with emotion. Which is another subject I
have pondered. </div>
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I saw a quote that is attributed to Warren Buffet (but I am not
entirely sure it is his) and it has been going around social media: “You will
continue to suffer if you have an emotional reaction to everything that is said
to you. True power is observing things with logic. True power is restraint. If
words control you that means everyone else can control you. Breathe and allow
things to pass.” There is some truth to this and I don’t know Warren Buffet’s
life (or whoever really said this) but there is also a lot I disagree with. I agree that you will suffer if you have an emotional reaction to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">everything</i> that is said to you. But when
it is said that true power is observing things with logic the idea seems to be
that logic is more valuable. I don’t believe it is. Also, it depends on what
kind of power we are talking about here. I don’t value power over others,
control. Those who believe they know what is best for everyone and act to “lead”
everyone (or those they “love”) to do what they think is best. </div>
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I believe that a
world devoid of emotion would be colorless and dreary and I don’t see the point
of living in a world like that. I want to make my thoughts more clear on this
subject but I also want to finish this blog. It is just that logic is way OVER
valued. Without the balance of emotion, there is nothing worth valuing. I guess
growing up I always heard that men were logical and women were emotional and
that is why we needed men to lead. Emotion was NEVER valuable, it always led to
chaos or destruction. So women=emotion=not valuable. Men=logic=valuable. If you
were a logical women you were an anomaly. But who decided the basis, the
determining factors for logic? I guess all of this led to me to re-evaluate
logic and emotion. To sort of revolt? I wanted to be strong, logical, and whatever was considered “male”
so that people would think I was valuable. But I increasingly grew
uncomfortable with that mindset. Especially because I really didn’t check the
boxes for those things listed as “female behavior” but I didn’t check the “male
behavior” boxes either. I was just Emily. </div>
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And Emily appreciates solid, balanced
logic, balanced emotion, beauty and badassery. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />EmilysWindowSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16852880508892495406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-84618815776428402352018-02-07T14:25:00.002-08:002023-12-18T06:01:37.292-08:00#tweetthoughts 1I think Mister Rogers is the original therapist. I know I still watch him in between sessions.EmilysWindowSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16852880508892495406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-14898405686407506542017-03-29T13:21:00.004-07:002023-12-19T07:52:37.956-08:00Facebook ScienceThe internet is rife with misinformation and pseudo-information although it can also be a source of very useful information. However credible sources seem to be lacking when "science proves" blogs are posted on Facebook and shared. The ones that flow in this vein which I find most interesting are the ones that state that you posses a certain quality because you have a particular taste in something else. They are much more prevalent than credible studies I have seen. I have come to the conclusion that the following equation for those blog posts is:<br />
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Positive quality I believe I have = proved because of a taste I have that I believe is superior<br />
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Example: Intelligence = proven because I appreciate dark humor (this is one I have actually seen)<br />
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Independent = proven because I love bands that aren't well known (this is one I made up)<br />
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But we would laugh at a blog that said something like:<br />
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Interesting = proven because I like rainbow ice cream<br />
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because ice cream choice doesn't seem superior. We might be more apt to believe it if it was "rainbow ice cream" was replaced with "Slow churned" or something else that seems elevated, but not as much as the previous examples. Our tastes in food, humor, literature, music, movies, podcasts, etc. seem to us what makes us interesting. We want to believe that it also indicates a quality that we believe we have, but maybe don't want to say outright. We don't have to say it outright if we say "A blog post I read says it is proven that those who listen to classical music are skilled writers."<br />
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I find it interesting, that's all. If you love dark humor you might be intelligent but it isn't an indication that you are intelligent. What is? It is difficult to really measure, but I have found the prevalence of it an interesting indication of our own narcissistic tendencies.<br />
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<br />EmilysWindowSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16852880508892495406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-33871513093865497052015-10-25T12:40:00.005-07:002023-12-19T07:56:37.960-08:00EternityThe idea of eternity scares me and I wonder if it is because I cannot wrap my head around it. Sometimes I wonder if those who are excited about it think of "forever" as the common meaning it has morphed into "a really long time." But it never ends. Even as something good it scares me. I feel guilty that I find it frightening, but I do all the same.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-26763228422958057002015-07-27T15:31:00.001-07:002023-12-19T07:56:53.257-08:00Anybody's and Me<br />
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So, I am 34 now and I realize that some roles just aren't going to be offered to me. A wish to audition for a particular role might not even be granted. This was true for the role of "Anybody's" in West Side Story.<br />
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Why did I want to audition for Anybody's? On some levels I really identify with her. Any really great character should have some sort of universal appeal-she wants to be accepted, "anybody" can identify with that. But I have other things in common with her. Therefore, she also has personal appeal.<br />
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This is a picture of me 10 years old. (1991)</div>
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As a young girl, I loved baseball (still do), I collected Nolan Ryan memorabilia, I had a skateboard (now I have a longboard). I was always ready for action (side note that made me laugh: in West Side Story Anybody's has a crush on the character Action.) Did you want to play Wall Ball? Let's go. You want to start up a rag tag game of baseball? I'm there. You said I can't do WHAT because I'm a girl?! Believe me, that's the next thing I am doing...and better than you. I've broken a couple of windows playing catch, I sprained my ankle swinging off rafters in an unfinished wing in my church. I would skin my knee, arm, elbow badly and jump up in case I missed something. Am I hurt? I don't know. Who cares and who scored? </div>
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Mud? There. Flooded streets? I'm there. Push up contest? There. Oooh, a tree! A wall with chinks? I could totally climb that! Where's Emily? She's up in that tree.</div>
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All that was purely me. But I also had this idea that to be the best I had to be like a guy. Even though I liked dressing up, for a while I tried to convince myself and others that I didn't. My mom had to remind me not to get grass stains on my dresses, but I did like it. I also thought that if someone said I did something as well as a guy it was a great compliment. </div>
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That's the thing, Anybody's wants to be a guy because that is the best place she fits in <b>and</b> because when she hears praise from one of them, she thinks it is the ultimate compliment. Being a lady then and even now doesn't equal much glory. Unless you are pretty and you glory in being valued for that. </div>
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I understand her. I also understand that when you get to a certain age, both guys and girls sort of reject you for being that way. Girls crinkle their noses and call you "An American tragedy" (-<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Graziella, West Side Story</span></i>) Guys kind of start ignoring you if you try to get in on a game. I remember the first time that happened. We were all 12. It was a game of keep away in a pool. All the girls watched from the sideline. I tried to play and no one threw to me. I tried to call out to make sure they knew I was in, but they didn't even acknowledge me, expect for once when I got a look that basically said: "Beat it. Your're a girl, be a girl."<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(-Tony, West Side Story)</span></i> To some extent, I still get looks and guffaws, sideways glances, or chuckles if I display some sort of quality that is too "masculine." When I throw a baseball, a lot of guys look on in admiration and say: "You don't throw like a girl." When I was young, that made me soar to highest heights. Now, I reply: "I know. I throw like a woman." I learned as I grew older that "tomboy" was a compliment (and cute) when you were young and then it was unsuitable as you grew older. It's okay to say you WERE a tomboy but not that you are. </div>
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That brings me to the word "tomboy" which I loathe. I loathe it because it labels a person as something naturally different than they are and puts value on what they are not. "Boy" is at the end of that word, but the person being spoken of is female.When someone calls a girl a tomboy, they don't see <b>her</b>. I am Emily, I am not a tomboy. I don't like "boy things."<br />
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A few years ago, I was painting faces for a school event. One of the little girls wanted me to paint a spider on her face because she liked "boy things." Even when I said to her: "No, you like <b>Lillian</b> things!" she was insistent that she <b>did</b> like boy things and I could see me in her so clearly. When I was called a tomboy as a young girl I wore it like a badge, it gave me the idea that "boy" was better. Sure, there are differences between men and women. However, I think those differences are more difficult to pinpoint than some people's statements lead you to believe. I think there is a lot of fluctuation. Thank God, because life would be a bore otherwise.<br />
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I try so hard to shut my mouth when someone says: "The other day my kid did this or that...blah blah" and someone else says: "Oh, that's a boy for you." Way too many times I have countered with: "I guess. Except when I was a little girl..." Nobody really wants to hear it. They just want to divide and make things easier. </div>
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For all you people who are anybody's. I understand. And, I'm sorry to break it to you, but people are going to laugh at you all your life. They are going to exclude you from things you would like to join. But be yourself, scabby knees and all. It's way better than not being yourself.</div>
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Just make sure you are hanging out with the type of people who accept you and who also aren't doing stupid things like starting fights and planning rumbles. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me-Gangsta for a skit with my Youth Drama Team <span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">1996<br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-76492871335006045822015-01-21T12:15:00.001-08:002023-12-19T07:59:00.223-08:00The Beauty of Age<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I look at you sitting there</div>
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Beauty in the grayness of your hair</div>
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Deep roads of wisdom line your face</div>
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And carved, etched around your lips</div>
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Where words fall with grace.</div>
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In wonderment I sit</div>
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And watch your hands as they flit</div>
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In them I see meaning, accomplishment, peace</div>
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Resting now, no shifting</div>
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And the sweetness of release.</div>
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And hope in this cruel, grasping world</div>
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All that I have laid down</div>
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Will lead me to one day bask</div>
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In the splendor of age</div>
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And wear time like a crown.</div>
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-Emily Chumchal Andrews</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 19.2000007629395px;">© January 2015</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-77191108633861109812015-01-19T11:02:00.002-08:002023-12-19T07:59:08.759-08:00What I Wore- New Year's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
So, this post is kind of late in coming seeing as it was New Year's Day that I took these and it is nearing the end of January, but whatever.</div>
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New Year's Eve we went to a beautiful wedding, dressed up, and danced all night. Because my parents had our boys that means that New Years Day we slept in, dressed down, and then went out for lunch.</div>
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We went to Barnaby's which is a cute cafe on West Gray and Taft here in Houston. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNh0Efj-GvCa09CsxrlR-GMDnOMKhQXhaG5iXVjrJ_HZIdozeUkEaNzpnusKSQwC58nw_dqVj4BsMORZuLD-0gewVMFTGKTk9GKBvLBX0y5oltrBoFBJC972K0aAgSCo-NOh3xFPU4nAM/s1600/December+Phone+(39).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNh0Efj-GvCa09CsxrlR-GMDnOMKhQXhaG5iXVjrJ_HZIdozeUkEaNzpnusKSQwC58nw_dqVj4BsMORZuLD-0gewVMFTGKTk9GKBvLBX0y5oltrBoFBJC972K0aAgSCo-NOh3xFPU4nAM/s1600/December+Phone+(39).jpg" height="320" width="176" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I am a horrible selfie taker. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">By the way, spell check does not recognize "selfie."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">It would like me to substitute "selfish" or self."</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNLpquhk5m_DQ824HBo291tAFiitdC5KRiYUTHi6btvozvvN4Mnz2rW6cA3TnG_BUuhl4P5oIiaKXEJdj6B59yuetIClhnouAtF4A3czO9CUm_uiq_gZMq7fLE_hVcQL5qebnO5URbXnzP/s1600/December+Phone+(43).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNLpquhk5m_DQ824HBo291tAFiitdC5KRiYUTHi6btvozvvN4Mnz2rW6cA3TnG_BUuhl4P5oIiaKXEJdj6B59yuetIClhnouAtF4A3czO9CUm_uiq_gZMq7fLE_hVcQL5qebnO5URbXnzP/s1600/December+Phone+(43).jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Husband takes picture and gets me mid "checking- my- teeth- before- picture- tongue- swipe." Battery on phone is low so no more takes.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgifsApSFPtjZ91NicKJPcxGUsUzpmPTsenTY_jQkt5-p9-zis7ABQrsBBUoC4Kpn2vFKsU3mF3hdQYvn0Gxq85mMLNv9G9khwYgEItrY5AL2JNgLqDoUDmzZgL0nWAZTaDVe2AagWFOG3W/s1600/December+Phone+(45).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgifsApSFPtjZ91NicKJPcxGUsUzpmPTsenTY_jQkt5-p9-zis7ABQrsBBUoC4Kpn2vFKsU3mF3hdQYvn0Gxq85mMLNv9G9khwYgEItrY5AL2JNgLqDoUDmzZgL0nWAZTaDVe2AagWFOG3W/s1600/December+Phone+(45).jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Gotta save the batteries for full length, outside of cafe photo.</span></div>
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<i>Ski hat</i>: I have no idea, it was probably my dad's. </div>
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<i>Flannel</i>: Had it since I was 12 (which means it is 21 years old!)</div>
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<i>Black Cami</i>: Do you love it? I love it. I got it at Ross.</div>
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<i>Red Jeans</i>: Macy's, man.</div>
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<i>Black boots</i>: A cheap shoe store in a run down mall. </div>
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<i>Makeup</i>: Whatever I couldn't wipe off from New Year's Eve. But if someone asked I could call it "Remnants" and make it sound better.</div>
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Hope your New Year is off to a great start. I intend to do some brainstorming and intentionally take some time to write some poetry or an essay next. Come back now, you hear?</div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-66920724300603248332014-12-29T12:10:00.004-08:002023-12-19T07:59:22.399-08:00What I Wore- Bobmas Shopping<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
While I do not intend for this blog to become a fashion blog, it is what I can manage right now with my two little ones. Outfit inspiration (for a tight budget) is always a useful thing, right?</div>
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So, having said that, you might be wondering what "Bobmas" is and I will explain. My husband's birthday is the day after Christmas and his name is Bobby. So, his brother coined his birthday "Bobmas" (Bobby + Christmas) and it has stuck ever since. Bobby likes to go shopping to spend his Christmas money on his birthday so that is what we always do. Usually we go down to Montrose, we scour Half Price books, a record store or two...our tradition usually includes going to our favorite sushi place "Oishii" to discover it is closed for a three week holiday, but we remembered this year and just settled for Thai Cottage. Neither of us bought anything that day, I think the mall crowds scare us more as we get older and have increased our family size! </div>
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Anyway, let's talk a little more about what I wore. Jeans that fit well are the one item I believe is worth paying more to own. </div>
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The jeans I am wearing are Lauren Ralph Lauren Straight Leg Nolita. I get them at Dillard for $68. </div>
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The blouse was a find at Goodwill ($6). I fell in love with the color and the sleeves.</div>
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The shoes have been featured before and are my favorite to wear. They go with anything and are classy brown leather with a gold buckle. Beautimous! As my dad says. They are also from Goodwill ($5).</div>
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I hope your new year is a blessed one!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimqahmBurud6ptQHhQhRadutrY5l4i0fJDh7iIMeRrrmt_H93M4cPPaxO-XetI-KN2wRwBNgGPTrCMaKAKMevDsN2BpBUJjRkLLc64UpV2_4D6AxFBXclD0IUhPNqM-O5IH688xpwtkagj/s1600/_MG_6087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimqahmBurud6ptQHhQhRadutrY5l4i0fJDh7iIMeRrrmt_H93M4cPPaxO-XetI-KN2wRwBNgGPTrCMaKAKMevDsN2BpBUJjRkLLc64UpV2_4D6AxFBXclD0IUhPNqM-O5IH688xpwtkagj/s1600/_MG_6087.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioL5MskyDFhFKk30N5OTtZdWXrFhcs-TQOrYldQJn1cSzzuSId3pj5uJ52UvfmoOSx0UUzdKyosXVaGW9lQHdwsIBXzMCNFein0GNpE0e37jpRIG7VLgPOh2N01jXuBaxrgTFhM20lSNw_/s1600/_MG_6093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioL5MskyDFhFKk30N5OTtZdWXrFhcs-TQOrYldQJn1cSzzuSId3pj5uJ52UvfmoOSx0UUzdKyosXVaGW9lQHdwsIBXzMCNFein0GNpE0e37jpRIG7VLgPOh2N01jXuBaxrgTFhM20lSNw_/s1600/_MG_6093.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-46314326575736030662014-11-24T13:56:00.000-08:002014-11-24T13:56:06.671-08:00What I Wore- Same Song, Different Tune<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I have featured this shirt that I found at Goodwill before but it was a totally different outfit and so I thought I would share another way to style it. </div>
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Sleeves rolled up, cutoffs and cute buckled, brown flats that you can't see because I have to figure out how to do this on self-timer and get it all in!</div>
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<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/AVvXsEglUXYEgrr80wd0uqNgmPPQ2pvaqDh4FYhNPoF-phFV909CE-VWeQ7D2uUnUC0GING4c-3ftLwanjUnFdjP1scX06oONY03osfvwVSAjrNEMJSG8fhaNrS-V9_kaBeuKM3ibiFEtPHnGSBL/s1600/IMG_5899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUXYEgrr80wd0uqNgmPPQ2pvaqDh4FYhNPoF-phFV909CE-VWeQ7D2uUnUC0GING4c-3ftLwanjUnFdjP1scX06oONY03osfvwVSAjrNEMJSG8fhaNrS-V9_kaBeuKM3ibiFEtPHnGSBL/s320/IMG_5899.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shirt: Goodwill <br />Shorts: Macy's?<br />Belt: American Eagle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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/AVvXsEg-ZNSy0apSmYGuycsgpcR2JqPgCkZn_7wAPlpPaxnoRJcfbvFcVB1nJQpPLSX8eiZUf-U3t0DL3Tg4sf57RDTU81IPvNSdKbYmem8Vmoq_AM_NLgUeRseypW0n-KiqnuDmdpmeYUHBoBaj/s1600/IMG_5902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ZNSy0apSmYGuycsgpcR2JqPgCkZn_7wAPlpPaxnoRJcfbvFcVB1nJQpPLSX8eiZUf-U3t0DL3Tg4sf57RDTU81IPvNSdKbYmem8Vmoq_AM_NLgUeRseypW0n-KiqnuDmdpmeYUHBoBaj/s320/IMG_5902.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love the map and the color</td></tr>
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<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/AVvXsEjhfbzvNT9sVgKk3aZNoTfk7ynajsKz6Jn7pPpI-j5GlPtTzwIPd6sfKdUU9PVjNCt_EbbQ-7_xolSStiQ7P8Uu2CDRbPwDyaMYmRH8KybLPbE097E_DmV9JzXFiAj8r527VgqenrgNA5ZI/s1600/IMG_5905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhfbzvNT9sVgKk3aZNoTfk7ynajsKz6Jn7pPpI-j5GlPtTzwIPd6sfKdUU9PVjNCt_EbbQ-7_xolSStiQ7P8Uu2CDRbPwDyaMYmRH8KybLPbE097E_DmV9JzXFiAj8r527VgqenrgNA5ZI/s320/IMG_5905.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even the button has great detailing.</td></tr>
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This is how I wore it previously.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGZFaa3XOfEdTmhTIsJEnlMNTNPRXYfMRY0RRYwuiLkxbd3dhc_GMzIYlkCwJvHCOwj5sPbYLnrXwx1nYOB001RW5_J8k7_jKGiLm-KPJHScQ6fYWlvNNwyheOMYGJlFMH1ChyphenhyphenGXShCmM6/s1600/SAM_0060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGZFaa3XOfEdTmhTIsJEnlMNTNPRXYfMRY0RRYwuiLkxbd3dhc_GMzIYlkCwJvHCOwj5sPbYLnrXwx1nYOB001RW5_J8k7_jKGiLm-KPJHScQ6fYWlvNNwyheOMYGJlFMH1ChyphenhyphenGXShCmM6/s1600/SAM_0060.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-57054459260075985842014-11-11T14:03:00.001-08:002023-12-19T07:59:32.422-08:00What I Wore-How I Wore Mustard<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I not much of a shopper. Even though I love cute outfits shopping for them is the bane of wearing them for me. It is also one of the reasons that I try to upcycle things I own and use pieces I own in new ways.</div>
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However, sometimes you chance upon a deal that is perfect for the non-shopper. I was dropping off a donation at the <a href="http://www.thecookiejarresaleshop.com/" target="_blank">Cookie Jar</a> and outside on their clearance rack (clearance at a resale shop = sweet!) was this mustard yellow blouse. It was a dollar, y'all. I snipped out the shoulder pads and paired it with some items I already owned. Hope you feel inspired!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQwaOyJHzYxyPYHAJwp-eXGx0V1spwZZeF1hoqDbfu6OrZ-gQOyL1ZA5skheU1ZCSkOOmk-KfjuTwFLagn5ralzYRs_d1eCYomZVvwgwPfHg_wEO5U8p7-PqxDFvrt_raOBXV9scTseQTh/s1600/IMG_5876.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQwaOyJHzYxyPYHAJwp-eXGx0V1spwZZeF1hoqDbfu6OrZ-gQOyL1ZA5skheU1ZCSkOOmk-KfjuTwFLagn5ralzYRs_d1eCYomZVvwgwPfHg_wEO5U8p7-PqxDFvrt_raOBXV9scTseQTh/s640/IMG_5876.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<table align="center" 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/AVvXsEgPUhWfzhkSLfbOSk4h_XwF6kgR5uxwgu8TbmGw1ic5PeodFX3xcPwGYuB4QYpkCut9GNPHpRObrw_bBoOZpyTu33Kxz4WoxJz8tIFjJUIBB-jaymaiH_5H4NKNCXiRof1Zk8RJJS7eFDCi/s1600/IMG_5885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPUhWfzhkSLfbOSk4h_XwF6kgR5uxwgu8TbmGw1ic5PeodFX3xcPwGYuB4QYpkCut9GNPHpRObrw_bBoOZpyTu33Kxz4WoxJz8tIFjJUIBB-jaymaiH_5H4NKNCXiRof1Zk8RJJS7eFDCi/s320/IMG_5885.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the kind of pose you get if you <br />ask your hubby to be photographer. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUYQhf0q2AWJ1q4hIJg03EWqwja9JSMVf9Xv18XZleedR_QF4RxLi31jDZiMrJJAzN2XDt2Rd_t18J4K0z04fHUyjdz1ot7H93UwgEES9i5vzJcpNh_DVvuB3sBt-DUM5_2XGHncEMEfV_/s1600/IMG_5883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUYQhf0q2AWJ1q4hIJg03EWqwja9JSMVf9Xv18XZleedR_QF4RxLi31jDZiMrJJAzN2XDt2Rd_t18J4K0z04fHUyjdz1ot7H93UwgEES9i5vzJcpNh_DVvuB3sBt-DUM5_2XGHncEMEfV_/s320/IMG_5883.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blouse: Cookie Jar<br />Jacket: Sears (clearance)<br />Shorts: Consignment Store Brand: Express<br />Necklace: Don't know<br />Shoes: Wal-mart<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCPLXCtI4zrCw53sKmdFZvV5ly39pkn1lnzz-bFaihntuOKLYruNlA90LnEsUOQ8vb1aUENay2qKgOLLHsKsKxctw6cG4mhV4-dD8FNfYiJUrLxLlDw61pGWnGJB4JV0IoXXMbjpHXUC_-/s1600/IMG_5891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCPLXCtI4zrCw53sKmdFZvV5ly39pkn1lnzz-bFaihntuOKLYruNlA90LnEsUOQ8vb1aUENay2qKgOLLHsKsKxctw6cG4mhV4-dD8FNfYiJUrLxLlDw61pGWnGJB4JV0IoXXMbjpHXUC_-/s400/IMG_5891.JPG" width="197" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sans jacket! </td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-19720826426418337862014-11-01T14:42:00.004-07:002014-11-02T11:47:28.506-08:00Alternative Dressing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX2lPvt_U8GoZJcLMwzOzh0aerS2av-Hj6znDDBFWTZss3-6H_dXXIgrPCEtqKaKpZi9zi2LwJuY3diGsiY_zjIVatqDMyrDqWKMok9EBAH9vA-50oOrrDxeiV_LrrA2AJHiPWWEaLFwTZ/s1600/lettuce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX2lPvt_U8GoZJcLMwzOzh0aerS2av-Hj6znDDBFWTZss3-6H_dXXIgrPCEtqKaKpZi9zi2LwJuY3diGsiY_zjIVatqDMyrDqWKMok9EBAH9vA-50oOrrDxeiV_LrrA2AJHiPWWEaLFwTZ/s1600/lettuce.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here is a guideline for my alternative to store bought, multiple ingredients dressing -my son loves that stuff. I apologize in advance for no measurements. I tend to "whip things up" but I really wanted to share these recipes because I have had success with my son suddenly gobbling up salad when he has dressing he loves. There is a nice yogurt based ranch dressing that we buy too, but I love that I thought of these as an alternative and that he ended up enjoying them and his salad.<br />
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I hope you have some fun playing around with the proportions!<br />
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BERRY GOOD DRESSING:<br />
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Any sort of berries, room temperature (this is so the coconut oil does not congeal while blending)<br />
Coconut Oil, liquid state<br />
Blend it in the blender<br />
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NOTE: you will have to take a spoonful and warm it up because the coconut oil will congeal in the fridge, of course.<br />
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RANCH DRESSING:<br />
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Avocado<br />
Olive oil<br />
Lemon juice<br />
Salt<br />
Parsley, finely chopped or dried<br />
Chives, finely chopped<br />
Garlic powder<br />
Add some yogurt to thin it out to desired consistency<br />
Blend it in the blender<br />
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NOTE: The greenness of this one kind of put my son at odds with it. I cannot do it as often as the berry dressing. So, if you think that will happen, play around with the amount of Avocado. Although that creaminess and good-for-you fat is such a wonderful addition!<br />
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Enjoy!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-86774656046488554352014-09-30T13:48:00.000-07:002023-12-19T08:00:34.425-08:00A Post of Tuesday and Thoughts and Such<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
So, I am
sitting here at my computer which is definitely a beginning and is often
farther than I get most days. I hope that what comes through my fingers as I type
is something worth reading. If not, I will still be quite glad if I finish.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I figure that every once in awhile my post does not have to
be well thought out, but, rather, more like a freewrite. The words that come
and turn into a well formed thought after a bit of meandering.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This morning I heard two phrases that stayed with me. The
first I will paraphrase because I don't remember the exact phrase but it was:
sometimes we get caught up in what we think are the big things, the large
efforts for change because we want to be remembered for that but, really,
change starts with picking up a towel (in reference to Jesus washing his
disciple's feet).<o:p></o:p></div>
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The second was "Bring me your whole heart even in
10,000 shards."<o:p></o:p></div>
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My mind has been so many places today but when I think
about everywhere it has traveled, to this subject or that activity or this
idea, I think it is actually a web of connectedness and I hope that as I write
I begin to see it for all its gossamer beauty.<o:p></o:p></div>
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"Gossamer beauty" I had to say it aloud and enjoy
the phrase again.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Four thoughts I jotted down today, in a very cryptic manner
seeing as I only understand three of them now that time has passed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Exactly as I jotted:<o:p></o:p></div>
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1) Parents and your knowledge of God.<o:p></o:p></div>
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2) Loving words (which is the one that I don't remember
anything about! Yet.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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3) Owning our unbelief<o:p></o:p></div>
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4) C.S. Lewis dread<o:p></o:p></div>
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The last one may seem the most cryptic to you!<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have thought about the first since a small group probably
four months ago. There was a lot of talk about how your relationship with your
dad can especially affect your understanding of God. Negatively or positively.
I don't agree with the "especially" but the one who came up with the
question is of that bent and I think his father was the main person who
affected his perspective in this case. In a bible study this morning we studied
1 Thessalonians and talked about allowing God to parent us. We examined those
things necessary to be a secure child. One of them was to be
"affectionately desired" this is to have the sense that someone wants
to be with you and that you are not just tolerated. I smiled as I listened
because if we are talking of dads and their impact on our view of God then I
should contemplate God in this light. I always felt that my dad wanted us
around. In fact, I felt that he really enjoyed us and our company. If he was
working on the car, he wanted to talk to us. When he came home from work, I
never felt like he would rather rest than play with us. He may have, but I
never felt like that. If he brought work home he found little ways for us to be
a part of it, I remember helping him with the simple calculations (when it got
to more than adding, he would hold the calculator!) When I climbed too high he
came to catch me if only I would trust to jump.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The second has still not come to me and may not until I
post this.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The third, one of the most significant lessons I have
learned is that the beginning of healing can be the expression of anger,
unapologetic anger, truthful anger, unbelieving anger, to God. I could never
get rid of God. I never could. There was a point that I tried, a few points,
but He wouldn't leave. So, I said nothing. I do not remember the exact Psalm I
read but it was something along this line:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Psalms 44:18-26<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Our heart has not turned back<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Nor have our steps departed from your way;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yet you have broken us in the place of jackals<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And covered us with the shadow of death.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If we had forgotten the name of our God<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Or spread out our hands to a foreign god,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Would not God discover this?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For he knows the secrets of the heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yet for your sake we are killed all the day long;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Awake! Why are you sleeping, O Lord?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rouse yourself! Do not reject us for ever!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Why do you hide your face?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Why do you forget our affliction and oppression?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For our soul is bowed down to the dust;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Our belly clings to the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rise up; come to our help!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And God told me that He wanted me to talk to Him and
tell Him exactly how I felt, what I thought about Him. And you know what? I
did. And you know what I felt afterward? I still felt angry. So, for days I
told Him how I felt. I shook my fist and I didn’t apologize. I didn’t ever say
something I didn’t actually feel or think. Slowly, very slowly, I began to heal.
I don’t say this to say I was correct about how I thought, I do say that it was
right and good for me to communicate. To own it, to not look for the healing,
to not look for the right words. But healing came and then growth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">4) C.S Lewis dread. I have been reading <u>Surprised
by Joy</u> by C.S. Lewis. These are a couple of passages from it:<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“You must picture me alone in that room in Magdalen,
night after night, feeling, whenever my mind lifted even for a second from my
work, the steady, unrelenting approach of Him who I so earnestly desired not to
meet. That which I greatly feared had at last come upon me. In the Trinity Term
of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed:
perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England. I
did not then see what is now the most shining and obvious thing; the Divine
humility which will accept a convert even on such terms. The Prodigal son at
least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will
open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling,
resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance of escape? The words
“compelle intrare,” compel them to come in, have been so abused by wicked men
that we shudder at them; but, properly understood, they plumb the depth of the
Divine mercy. The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His
compulsion is our liberation.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“The real issue was not, or not yet, there. The real
terror was that if you seriously believed in even such a “God” or Spirit” as I
admitted, a wholly new situation developed. As the dry bones shook and came
together in that dreadful valley of Ezekiel’s, so now a philosophical theorem,
cerebrally entertained, began to stir and heave and throw off its grave cloths,
and stood upright and became a living presence. I was to be allowed to play at philosophy no
longer. It might, as I say, still be true that my “Spirit” differed in some way
from “the God of popular religion.” My Adversary waived the point. It sank into
utter unimportance. He would not argue about it. He only said, “I am the Lord”;
“I am that I am”; “I am.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">People who are naturally religious find difficulty
in understanding the horror of such a revelation. Amiable agnostics will talk
cheerfully about “man’s search for God.” To me, as I then was, they might as
well have talked about the mouse’s search for the cat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Lewis admits that the one thing in life he hated was
“interference” he would rather be left alone. Really, he dreaded God even as it
began to be evident to him that there was a God. Only one God. That belief that
there was a God would lead to consequences. Consequences such as “interference.”
Lewis wrote honestly about God. I feel a bit like he was a David. A man after God’s own heart who wrote honestly, piercingly, and also had some shocking
misconduct in his own life. When we hear “man after God’s own heart” it does
not mean someone who is like God or nearest to being like God, I think. I think
that it means someone who approaches their belief in God honestly, who really
seeks God’s heart and not someone who tears apart scripture trying to find
nuances and follow rules. Someone who dives into action and living. Not that
Lewis or David or I would ever say that there are not things God asks us to do,
that God who IS and WAS and always WILL BE does not require obedience. In fact,
this dread and this anger, when realized, is because we know He must be obeyed
and, yet, we are fully aware of our desire to be left alone. At the same time,
we know that “His compulsion is our liberation.” But we struggle against it. I
think God would rather us lift up our faces to him, whether in anger, dread,
joy, or love, than look away as if He was not there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-41362074958796492832014-08-20T19:06:00.001-07:002023-12-19T08:00:43.524-08:00What I Wore-Sunday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yes, a "What I Wore" is almost a cop out blog post! But I want to be more consistent about posting and so here is my easy, cop out blog post for the season when I am getting back into it. We can also tack on the fact that I am starting to feel somewhat cute again after baby #2. </div>
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Skirt: Vintage, navy pleated skirt (my sister actually owns it but I try to borrow it so often that I can pretend it is mine and hope that one day she will forget to ask for it back.)</div>
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Blouse: Marshall's</div>
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Cardigan: Cookie Jar Resale (One of my favorites!)</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-69029430312956797602014-07-30T22:42:00.000-07:002023-12-19T08:01:02.074-08:00How I Approach Music"I long to live in restful sincerity of heart. I want to live so fully in the Spirit that all my thoughts may be as sweet incense ascending to Thee and every act of my life may be an act of worship." -A.W. Tozer<br />
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Sitting behind the set this Sunday, my heart still beating quickly, rhythmically although my drumsticks were now still, I listened to the words above which were a part of our Sunday worship. </div>
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I was still, every part of me, and God reminded me, once again, that playing these drums is for Him. Sometimes I look at everyone sitting out there and think about them, I think about me and my performance, me and my lacking.<br />
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But most often I am thinking about both my heavenly Dad and my earthly Dad.<br />
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My dad played the drums at our church.<br />
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I close my eyes and feel the music and I think about the time one of my teenage friends said: "When your dad closes his eyes and plays, it's like he is worshiping God while he is drumming."<br />
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That is what I want each tap of the high hat, each boom of the bass, each hit of the snare, and brush of the cymbal to be, a worshipful act.</div>
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I want my life to be music that evokes a sweet longing in others and a smile on God's face.</div>
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Music, for me, is the handiwork of God. Creative genius that He has given someone whether they know it or not. It flows throughout me, I cannot help but dance, whether the action is visible to anyone else I do not know.</div>
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Music is constantly in my head whether there is any outside of it. I've embarrassed friends by breaking into song in public places. I skip and I sing, I smile and twirl. My son and I throw rhymes back and forth on a regular basis. I often accompany words with a beat and a jig when talking to him. </div>
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In Heaven no restraint will be needed. </div>
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I will burst into song when I get there and my feet will continually dance along the streets of gold.</div>
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And God will say: "Emily, your life was beautiful music.I'm glad to have you home."</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-20221272267782820422014-07-09T20:40:00.002-07:002023-12-19T08:01:30.440-08:00Listening Eyes<div style="-webkit-transition: color, background 200ms ease-in; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Vollkorn; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; transition: color, background 200ms ease-in;">
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I am the student that college professors finally land
on and look at for 75% of their lecture. I guess it is because my parents never
let me get away with eyes wandering if they were speaking. "Look at me
while I am talking to you." It shows someone that what they have to say is
important, that was what I was taught. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Beginning in my youth, I had people in parks and grocery
stores telling me their stories, their worries and fears. I cannot think of why
else except that, when they looked into my eyes, they felt I would
listen. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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When a child speaks to me, I try my best to turn my eyes on
them just the same as any adult because I believe what they have to say it just
as important as anyone else. I find myself frowning when an adult trivializes
what a child has to say. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Many translate my constant wonder and smile to
naivety. Many take my quietness as a lack of cleverness. Many assume my quiet
voice comes from timidity. Many think I am weird for the things I do say. I
have had to learn that most people are not good listeners and this is because
most people have a thirst to be heard. They will try to quench it even at the
expense of others. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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So, I try to listen.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Sometimes I want to be listened to. I want to not be the
girl who yells: "got it!" only for someone to hurdle themselves in
front of me and steal the show. The volleyball court of life. Sometimes I want
to answer for myself. Sometimes I get nervous when all eyes finally do turn on
me, I am not used to it. Always, I thank God for friends who turn to me, look
at me, and ask: "Emily, what do you think?"<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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And listen.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-72886772688139565162014-06-18T16:35:00.000-07:002023-12-19T08:02:24.301-08:00How I Am Working On the Sabbath...Get It?13 years ago when Bath and Body Works introduced their Aromatherapy line and we were changing the signage I was allowed to nab one of the signs we had displayed and take it home. It is a soothing green circle and the words on it are simply: "Stress Less." It hangs on the wall of my computer room to be seen when I walk in. <i>I can see it with my peripheral vision right now</i>.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, I read a Facebook status update from a friend that said he watched a spider build its web and while watching he did nothing else. It took 45 minutes. <i>What bliss, that is part of what life is about and yet people believe that they could never have time for that. They don't know that it is richer to drink in life instead of gulping it down. </i><br />
<br />
This afternoon, I picked up "My Utmost for His Highest" and this is what Oswald Chambers had to say when I picked up my bookmarked page: "When God brings in the blank space, see that you do not fill it in, but wait. The blank space may come in order to teach you what sanctification means, or it may come after sanctification to teach you what service means." <i>How does God always know how to pave the way for things?</i><br />
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In my last post, I talked about still figuring out how to write again and I also mentioned trying to find "pockets" of time. It seems to be much the same concerning the Sabbath. It is something that I am still figuring out at this point, but I have been conscious of needing rest and making time to rest.<br />
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When I say rest, I do mean literally naps, because in times past I would never allow myself that. In fact, admitting that I do take naps at times is difficult because I am afraid of being perceived as lazy. But God has impressed on me that sometimes I must so that I can give everything I need give to those in my household and around me. That sometimes it is more important than finishing something else.<br />
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When I say rest, I also mean learning to be at peace with some mess because that is not in my natural makeup as a person. But I have found that it took up so much of my time, I always felt like I was cleaning up after everyone, and I would become frustrated with them. I am being taught that the minimum in this area is not always bad. I am still learning. Right now my son keeps opening the desk drawer to get something new out and I keep shutting it. Testament to the fact that I am a continual work in progress.<br />
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When I say rest, I mean to rest on God. And rest on Him like my Daddy. Cuddling up and just knowing that His strength will take care of it all.<br />
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When I say rest, I mean to rest my eyes on my sons. To be refreshed by play. To drink in the cool water that is my two little boys. To throw off the idea of anything else and just look at them. To choose rest over strain. To lessen the "lessons" I teach with words so that I do not tire them and myself and instead choose lessons by action.<br />
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This being said, I feel like God is telling me to figure out a specific time to have as my Sabbath, but that He is well pleased with my progress. And this is a rest I have been learning as well because I always had a notion (never expressed or admitted) that I must be at the end, at completion, at perfection to finally rest or for God to be pleased. But I have learned that God will always be completing, always be perfecting and that as long as I am working on what He says, I can rest. I can have peace.<br />
<br />
"And He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore mist gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, the the power of Christ may rest upon me."<br />
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2 Corinthians 12:9<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-46990363695508670802014-06-12T14:09:00.002-07:002023-12-19T08:02:33.187-08:00How I Am Figuring Out Writing AgainLately, I have had trouble writing. I have not evolved completely from teenager who had excessive amounts of time to write in silence to wife and then wife and mom with hardly any silence ever. You would think that I would have learned in the span of ten years. It is difficult to change any habit and this includes a writing habit.<br />
<br />
However, I am trying to consciously make little pockets of time to write. Pockets of time, even though I have not completely defined what that means yet, is my main plan of action. And when I say this, it is because I am trying to break the habit of needing to write a complete essay in one sitting. So, pocket time creates a space for my writing juices to start flowing, to stretch my literary muscles and then strengthen them. I am not in the habit yet, but I am finding time.<br />
<br />
In what ways am I finding time? If I think of a good turn of a phrase (such as I did while mowing the lawn while my boys were in quiet time) then I write it in my journal. Often, the phrase flies out nearly as soon as it comes in because a little boy voice pushes it out by saying "I'm hungry" a few times in a row-more than a few. But when it stays for a few minutes, I write it down and this is better than I have done in the past.<br />
<br />
The "pocket" idea I am currently most proud of is returning to a favorite pastime from my childhood. All the while, introducing it to my own son while sneaking in some writing. Two weeks ago, I folded and stapled together about five pages and then told my son that we were going to write a book. I let him draw and then I used his drawings to inspire writing (see below). I also stapled together some pages of my own and just did a freewrite. Making a cover page with my name on it somehow inspired me to write better.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCxwbaoBGFM6yINDnLlSUIzNXbwo5zdekOZC0uOAvABkLG8Zc11do29iFDkmcUMmWCXCGDaqOvlqWJpKF_XqUuVYZZneLz5slevEL7c_uNfOcxFxLSNQrrUW41aNQMg8x5jmNWdkZuN6zd/s1600/IMG_4253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCxwbaoBGFM6yINDnLlSUIzNXbwo5zdekOZC0uOAvABkLG8Zc11do29iFDkmcUMmWCXCGDaqOvlqWJpKF_XqUuVYZZneLz5slevEL7c_uNfOcxFxLSNQrrUW41aNQMg8x5jmNWdkZuN6zd/s1600/IMG_4253.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
On the horizon</div>
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A lonely cloud</div>
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In a storm.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju3oF5r06vUj4cVWAshcH44NHUT9r-RuNDebPlnRawxLSUBBRJOKM2-aGFQAwVWiMPBthctnaIbHlO-IHduKQ_AxpxHcz13IYbGcza5Iy8KR-fBxSDMORyc2b8-xEL2mA0abjanQ3qGqRt/s1600/IMG_4254.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju3oF5r06vUj4cVWAshcH44NHUT9r-RuNDebPlnRawxLSUBBRJOKM2-aGFQAwVWiMPBthctnaIbHlO-IHduKQ_AxpxHcz13IYbGcza5Iy8KR-fBxSDMORyc2b8-xEL2mA0abjanQ3qGqRt/s1600/IMG_4254.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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You have </div>
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Looked</div>
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Hooked</div>
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Took</div>
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Forsook</div>
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The reason</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My Life</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Is a book.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUCOkKanX9G3RcYyR_HTxEW2boB1op9K9uKiQb6Ovn-MhczD1fB0YAoUXXe_Z1NQS6LquDGxWtXaSe-sZqihw1CxH6UCqW0XyejOlJBxTITKkMEKkK1aOeV4QPziSp_Ni69gYMFl-Eem1/s1600/IMG_4255.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUCOkKanX9G3RcYyR_HTxEW2boB1op9K9uKiQb6Ovn-MhczD1fB0YAoUXXe_Z1NQS6LquDGxWtXaSe-sZqihw1CxH6UCqW0XyejOlJBxTITKkMEKkK1aOeV4QPziSp_Ni69gYMFl-Eem1/s1600/IMG_4255.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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Capture my madness</div>
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In your arms</div>
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And love my</div>
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Tornado ways.</div>
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Keep me grounded</div>
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But fly and let</div>
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Me fly</div>
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And let us</div>
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fly.</div>
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<br />
Another exercise has been recording some of my past writings on the computer and, when I type out words I have written before, I start to feel encouraged and somehow something comes to mind. In fact, I was in the middle of recording a short story and I felt that it was time to begin this post.<br />
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I will admit that the boys have stayed in quiet time a little longer than usual today. But I think they will not be scarred.<br />
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Lastly, I am learning that perfection cannot always be attained in a post, but that it feels best to get something out there instead of one hanging in limbo until perfect. Which is why I am going to leave this one alone now, post it, and get my boys' out of quiet time.<br />
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Until we meet again.<br />
<br />
Emily<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-83337703351087069802014-05-04T14:18:00.001-07:002023-12-19T08:02:55.921-08:00Christians and PoliticsDriving along a major road in my town, there is a particular corner where men and women are waiting with clipboards next to their big sign that states: "Impeach Obama" and displays a "Hitler" mustache on the face of our President. They sit there at least a few times a month. As I drive by, not knowing whether these people claim to be Christians or not, I still think about the oxymoron that is Christians in politics.<br />
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It might be someone's first reaction to assume that I am not for Christians in politics at all, especially after they read this post. The truth is that I believe that politics should have balance when it is a part of a Christian's life and that it is difficult to maintain balance when we are ultra involved (in politics). It is also difficult to maintain a proper Christian witness. As Christians, we should support measures that help maintain civil order or try to correct gross social offenses, but civil order and social offenses will not ever be <b>remedied </b>by politics and it can often take time and energy away from our commission (Matthew 28:19-20) and our greatest command (Matthew 22:36-40). As John MacArthur says in an essay concerning Christians and Politics:<br />
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"<i>A certain amount of healthy and balanced concern with current trends in government and the community is acceptable, as long as we realize that that interest is not vital to our spiritual growth, our righteous testimony, or the advancement of the kingdom of Christ. Above all, the believer's political involvement should never displace the priority of preaching and teaching the gospel...The greatest temporal good we can accomplish through political involvement cannot compare to what the Lord can accomplish through us in the eternal work of His kingdom. Just as God called ancient Israel (<a href="http://biblia.com/bible/nasb95/Ex.%2019.6">Ex. 19:6</a>), He has called the church to be a kingdom of priests,<b> not a kingdom of political activists</b>.</i>"</div>
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<b>Commission:</b><br />
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"Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things I have commanded you..."<br />
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<b>Command:</b><br />
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''Teacher which is the greatest commandment in the Law? and he said to them, ''You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind. This is the great and first commandment. And the second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these depend all the Law and the Prophets.''<br />
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Why is it that I think politics in the Christian life can be such a tricky thing to balance? Politics is, by nature, divisive and God's word says: ''A house divided cannot stand.'' (Mark 3:25) If we, as Christians, cannot stand together we cannot go out into the world and accomplish meeting the world's needs.<br />
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Now someone might say: 'Wouldn't trying to accomplish meeting needs through politics be a way to make a vast change in the lives of many people?' I don't think so.<br />
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One, I don't think we were ever meant to have government. I believe it is an institution that God <b>allowed</b> us to have and has <b>ordered us to obey</b> but not what was originally intended for us. Two, the change will most likely only last for the term of whatever politician is in office. Three, laws induce only superficial change and not deep heart change. It is a distant way of meeting a need. It lacks the touch of God's hand through ours. Fourth, I <b>do</b> think we should handle gross injustice in the political system- don't get me wrong. However, it should not take up so much time that we are not touching people who are affected by these laws one on one. Do we fight for the Right to Life? We can, but how long will those laws last? Can we find ways to reach out and embrace women considering abortion? There are options in your own church and <a href="http://www.houstoncoalition.com/index.cfm?load=page&page=197" target="_blank">organizations</a> that would love to have more manpower.<br />
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I know that we need to be aware of laws that might take away our freedom and, more importantly, laws that take protection away from the innocent. But even this does not outweigh our great command, because this command must be obeyed in spite of what our government does, no matter what state it is in , no matter what freedoms we do or do not have. And we can overlook strengthening our awareness and our practical involvement when we are too involved in the political side. Do I love having these rights and freedoms? Yes, I do. I would be scared if they were taken away, yet I don't think my greatest call is to fight for them.<br />
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Psalms 33:12 says: "Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people whom he has chosen as his heritage!"<br />
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But that does not mean that because America was supposedly founded on Christian principles that God is the Lord of our nation. As a country we have not chosen him, neither by laws will we bring a nation to him. Morality of a people is not the priority, reaching individuals who will also love and serve God is the priority.<br />
The moral decline of America is not political anyway and cannot be solved by politics. The moral decline is spiritual and can only be helped in that way. The moral decline is not because of our political system, our political system only reflects us as a country. If we could focus on the people and could be the real church there would be healing and the political system would reflect the healing.<br />
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"If my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face then will I hear from heaven and will heal their land." (2 Chronicles 7:14)<br />
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That is the way that we will be healed. That is a priority. If the whole land is not Christian we cannot make them so by law. And when we begin to fight (and I mean fight) for those sorts of laws we can become hostile toward political leaders, opposing parties, and real people who are "on the other side." We see ourselves as right and them as wrong instead of them as a human in need and us as a human who can lift them up. Our tongue is our deadliest weapon when it should be our greatest tool and it inflicts wounds that are slow healing. God does not give us an out when it concerns politics.Our tongue is not suddenly our own and allowed to be wielded how we choose. When people appear to us as part of a party or political affiliation, or anything other than another sinful and hurting human, we can distance them and we do. They do not seem so worthy of our help any longer. Our tongue and our action can become hurtful, distancing, and proud.<br />
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“With it (our tongue) we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in the likeness of God; from the same mouth come both blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not to be this way. Does a fountain send out from the same opening both fresh and bitter water? Can a fig tree, my brethren, produce olives, or a vine produce figs? Nor can salt water produce fresh.” James 3:9-12<br />
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"But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits without partiality and without hypocrisy. Now the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace." James 3:17-18<br />
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We must honor our government and those leaders, we should honor the freedom people have given their life for by voting, we should maintain an interest in what is going on, but we must be aware of heavy involvement and the energy and resources it can take away from the day to day spiritual warfare we are engaged in. Those who have been called to politics, be aware of the humility of spirit and tongue that we are still called to and the lifting up of Christ that will draw men and women to him.<br />
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"Our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a savior our Lord Jesus Christ." (Philippians 3:20)<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-16881659785297914332014-04-19T08:30:00.001-07:002023-12-19T08:03:07.073-08:00Shadows and Reflection- Love Thy Neighbor<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Growing up in a non-denominational church we did not have services or portions of service that were ceremonial, we did have a routine but not ritual. The source of this practice was from a good intention. Ritual can become mundane and turn into vain repetition. However, sometimes you miss an occasion to gain useful reflection from the solemnity of tradition.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The church that my husband and I attend is of Protestant denomination but on Good Friday we follow the liturgy of Tenebrae which was originally an Orthodox practice. It has become one of my favorite services and the reason is simply that each element is designed for reflection and at the end of this particular service, more than any other, I am truly considering what this celebration of Easter means. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Before the celebration there was death, there was sorrow, there was betrayal and all of this grief brings beauty and excitement to the fact that three days later there was light, life, and victory. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I think, as Christians, we are afraid of not showing our appreciation if we picture Christ on the cross. I remember, as a young girl, seeing Catholics wear a crucifix, Jesus on the cross, and those in Protestant denominations wearing a cross without Jesus on it. I questioned this and was told that we wear a cross without Christ on it because "He is not on the cross anymore." As a grown woman, I now think both are beautiful reminders. We miss out on something when we do not deeply reflect on the fact that he once was on the cross. It takes away from the victory that now Jesus is alive. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The service of Tenebrae means "shadow" both connoting a foreshadowing of his death as well as a weighty feeling. The scripture readings are done so in dim lighting lending a reflective spirit to the whole service. Each reading gives us opportunity to meditate on a portion of his suffering and to apply it to ourselves. The only lights beside those for reading are the 7 candles that are extinguished as each reading is finished. There is power in the silence after each reading. The following are the 7 shadows that we reflect on:</span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 21.299999237060547px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Shadow of Betrayal (Matt. 26:20-25)</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The Shadow of Desertion (Matt 26:30-35)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The Shadow of Unshared Vigil (Luke 22:39-46)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The Shadow of Accusation (Matt 26:47-75)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The Shadow of Crucifixion (Matt 27:1, 11-37)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The Shadow of Death (Luke 23:44-49)</span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The Shadow of the Tomb (John 19:38-42)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In most services that follow the Tenebrae liturgy, there is music in between the readings. At our church we take occasion to use various forms of art for reflection in between each reading. Members of the church have been invited to participate beforehand and paintings, storytelling, music, and poetry draw us in. Even as you enter the sanctuary there are sculptures, woodwork, photography, and drawings that have been set up to observe. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This year I wrote a poem, contemplating the Unshared Vigil when Jesus asks his disciples to pray with him as he prays the night before he is to die. As we all know, they fall asleep. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As a result of writing the poem I was able to think about why this story was so important to warrant reflection. Yes, it must have hurt Jesus for those who were closest to him to fall asleep in his time of deep anguish. However, I wondered what might it even say to us now? Why, besides the historical significance is this significant to us today? In the scriptures, we are told to "Rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn." (Romans 12:15) We are told "Bear one another's burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ." (Galatians 6:2) Bearing another's burden is <i><b>fulfilling the law of Christ</b>! </i>The disciples falling asleep reminds us that in this life we are called to be aware of other's needs. We are not to sleep while those around us suffer and fail to see some sort of physical sign of Christ's love. We all know Matthew 22:37-40: "</span><span class="text Matt-22-37" id="en-NIV-23910" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: normal;">Jesus replied: <span class="woj">“‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’</span></span><span class="text Matt-22-38" id="en-NIV-23911" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: normal;"><span class="woj">This is the first and greatest commandment.</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: normal;"> </span><span class="text Matt-22-39" id="en-NIV-23912" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: normal;"><span class="woj">And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ </span></span><span class="text Matt-22-40" id="en-NIV-23913" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: normal;"><span class="woj">All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” All of the law <i><b>hangs on this</b>! </i></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text Matt-22-40" style="line-height: normal;"><span class="woj"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One more passage for your reflection:</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text Matt-22-40" style="line-height: normal;"><span class="woj"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">James 2:8-17</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Jas-2-8" id="en-NIV-30302"><span class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;"> </span>If you really keep the royal law found in Scripture, “Love your neighbor as yourself,”you are doing right.</span> <span class="text Jas-2-9" id="en-NIV-30303"><span class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;"> </span>But if you show favoritism,<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30303L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></span> you sin and are convicted by the law as lawbreakers.<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30303M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)"></span></span> <span class="text Jas-2-10" id="en-NIV-30304"><span class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;"> </span>For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30304N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)"></span> at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it.<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30304O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)"></span></span> <span class="text Jas-2-11" id="en-NIV-30305">For he who said, “You shall not commit adultery,”also said, “You shall not murder.” If you do not commit adultery but do commit murder, you have become a lawbreaker.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Jas-2-12" id="en-NIV-30306">Speak and act as those who are going to be judged<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30306R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)"></span> by the law that gives freedom,</span><span class="text Jas-2-13" id="en-NIV-30307"><span class="versenum" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;"> </span>because <b><i>judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful</i>. <span class="crossreference" style="vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30307T" title="See cross-reference T">T</a>)"></span></b><i><b>Mercy triumphs over judgment</b>.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Jas-2-14"><b><i>What good is it</i></b>, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds?<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30308U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)"></span> Can such faith save them?</span> <span class="text Jas-2-15" id="en-NIV-30309">Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food.<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30309V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)"></span></span> <span class="text Jas-2-16" id="en-NIV-30310">If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30310W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)"></span></span> <span class="text Jas-2-17" id="en-NIV-30311">In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If we are not aware, we will not know how to serve. If we do not serve, humbly and practically (meeting physical needs), what good is our faith?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Jas-2-17"><u style="background-color: white;">Share Thy Neighbor's Vigil</u></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">Let us be the toasty
blanket<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">On cold shoulders.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">The runner’s cool water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">A menthol rub on this
world’s aching joints.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">A new mother’s hands,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">The kiss on a hurt knee. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">And the knee is where we should
be<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">Bent and humble <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">Shining our love up<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">Toward a downcast face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">Let us be the finger that
lifts a chin<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">The applause for those
ignored<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">The one who crowns the poor.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">Ignorance is not bliss<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">Awareness is a sacred call<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">Holding safe and high<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">A neighbor’s candle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">Is our command.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">In the vigil of life<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">Let us not sleep.<span style="font-size: 16pt; font-weight: bold;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 107%;">-Emily Chumchal Andrews</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-27247718054141339662013-12-01T15:38:00.003-08:002023-12-19T08:05:03.985-08:00Bringing up GeeksMy husband is a school teacher and so we have made our way into conversation many times about the culture of cool. How parents really feel the need to push their kids into popularity or let them slide into it or even how adults who were never cool take their opportunity when they have children. Either way there is an obsession that we do not want our children to be a part of.<br />
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I have to admit I checked out a book from the library recently that I knew would jive with what I already believe about parenting. Sometimes you just need someone to encourage you along the way even if it is an author you have never met. I was in the parenting section because it is right next to the kids section and I had already selected books about trees and the sun and moon for my son. So, while he played, I skimmed the titles. I came across one that caught my interest<a href="http://www.marybethhicks.com/Books/BringingupGeeks.aspx" target="_blank"> "Bringing up Geeks: How to Protect Your Kid's Childhood in a Grow-Up-Too-Fast World." </a><br />
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I think my parents brought me and my 3 siblings up as geeks and for that I am truly thankful. I am looking forward to raising my two boys as geeks also. I am also a little intimidated. It is not going to be an easy task. This culture really is obsessed with "cool" it is all around and more accessible than ever. But what is that true cliche? Nothing worth having comes easy.<br />
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People will scoff and say: "Let's see about that in a few years" but below I have listed those things that are very important to me as I raise my boys.<br />
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<b>1) Looking people in the eye when they are talking to you.</b><br />
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<i>This is about more than eye contact. This is about respect. Also in this world of cell phones and technology it is about being able to put it down for awhile and focus on a real person in front of you. Yes, something that bothers me very much.</i><br />
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My son was given a Leap Pad last year for Christmas and he was only 3 years old. I was at least in Elementary School before I ever played a video game and I certainly did not have my own device to play it on. I have already had to learn how to limit technology and already had to have conversations about those limitations with him and people he visits with. I was hoping for at least a couple of years before I had to do this, but I have realized it is only going to get more difficult and it is one I am steeling myself for.<br />
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Right now he is allowed 25 minutes of play time on his Leap Pad every other day. He must earn watching a half hour of TV by accumulating 10 stickers on his "helping" chart. Or he may watch television with his dad on the weekend which usually consists of two Alton Brown "Good Eats" a really informative cooking show.<br />
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His list of okay television shows:<br />
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Mr. Rogers Neighborhood<br />
Veggie Tales<br />
Thomas the Train<br />
Word World<br />
SuperWhy<br />
Good Eats<br />
Shaun the Sheep<br />
Timmy the Sheep<br />
Bible Stories<br />
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No Calliou (whiny!). No Sponge Bob (ridiculous, questionable). No Word Girl (disrespectful!). I don't even approve every Disney or Pixar movie. Brave. No. Not for a four year old. Toy Story and Cars. Yes.<br />
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<b>2) Playing outside </b><br />
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I actually notice a real difference in my oldest son's attitude when he plays outside more. Too many kids are at a loss when they get outside. He can play in his sandbox for three hours straight. Sand is not fun to clean up but I would rather that over him staying inside.<br />
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<b>3) Being a lifelong learner (I actually have this phrase in large letters in our library)</b><br />
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Sure I want him to get good grades which equals a good college which equals a good job but more than that I want him to love learning. If he doesn't get a good grade but he worked hard I am happy. I want to help him find things he is interested in and pursue knowledge. I want him to be curious about how things work and why things are the way they are. I want him to be able to find information for himself. To explore. To love life and to be amazed at what surrounds him. I want life to be an adventure. I hate the purposefully cool "bored" attitude. Learn something. I want him to be child that is not afraid to be enthusiatic. Even writing that seems ridiculous but it isn't. When you are enthusiastic about things people laugh at you. But I don't want him to care about that. Which brings me to my next point:<br />
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<b>4) Principled</b><br />
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Most parents would say that they want their child to be honest, upright, generous, etc. but I think one problem people have in this world right now is DEFINING those words. Everything is so relative now. The thing is that character really is not relative. Morality is not relative. But when a person cannot define what is moral they obviously cannot teach someone to live morally. Some things are right and some things are wrong. Some people will laugh at you, some people will stop being your friend when you stand up for those things. Tough. Living an honorable life is more important than people who cannot respect that. <br />
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<b>5) True friend and Neighbor/ Friendly</b><br />
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A true friend is principled, of course, but it is worth mentioning this one as a point in itself. It is difficult to be a true friend. Sometimes you need to do things you don't like doing, sometimes you need to share, sometimes you need to apologize and all the time you need to be able to listen and to be aware of how you can love this other person.<br />
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When I am in line, an especially long line, I find talking with the person before me or the person behind me makes the line seem so much shorter, but I have also found that some people are engaged to their phone ( do I mean "with"?) or that they are not friendly. Many really enjoy the distraction too after their initial surprise. I hope my sons can engage in friendly conversation. There is so much to learn from others. So much benefit that will never be garnered from their phone and the internet.<br />
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<b>6) Team Player</b><br />
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Sports for children have become a BIG deal and with it another way to showcase your children or to live out your own fantasies- for them to be your living trophy. The thing is I want sports and competition to teach my child more than how to win. I want them to learn how to cheer on others, how to be principled even if it means losing, how to lose gracefully. And also how to master (as well as they can) a new skill.<br />
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<b>7) Late bloomer</b><br />
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I want my kids to have a childhood. I don't want them to have shirts with wry phrases, I don't want them to dress in the latest trends, I don't want them to be savvy. I want them to have innocence and imagination. I want them to play. I want them to know that romantic relationships can wait...for a long time. There is so much to explore, to know, to do. I have a pet peeve about "girlfriend" jokes. "Is that your little girlfriend?" or "Do you have a girlfriend yet?" Even his kisses to his friends that are girls are acts of friendship. I love his naivete about the world and their pettiness. They will not be allowed to have a television in their room or a computer in their room (or anything with internet capacity). Social media will be something they have to wait to do. Movies will still be screened. I won't know everything but because he is principled he will know right from wrong and, hopefully, make right choices.<br />
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<b>8) Competent</b><br />
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Why do kids in this day and age dress like adults, talk like them, and yet have no idea how to sweep a floor, clean a room, do things for themselves? I want my kid to be a kid, dress like a kid, talk like a kid and know how to clean a room, do their homework, and stand up for themselves. I also want them to be able to take criticism from adults (whether warranted or not) and not rely on us to get them out of things they don't want to do.<br />
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<b>9) Lover of Family</b><br />
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Sometimes my boys will be forced to be at home even if they would rather be out with friends. We will have family down time, we will not always have to have an activity or be on the go. They will talk to us, to each other and we will have traditions and things that set us apart as a family. They will roll their eyes but secretly they will love it. They will defend each other and us and know that no matter where they are, who they are, what they do their family loves them and there is always a place for them here.<br />
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<b>10) Think for themselves/ Be themselves </b><br />
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Like what you like. If you have read any of my other posts you also know that extends to the gender box.<br />
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I want to bring up a geek. I don't want them to be "cool." It took me awhile to figure out that I was a geek growing up. I was fun and pretty and smart but never included in the cool. I never understood until I realized that it wasn't so important and that I liked who I was and who my family was and that that was more important than being cool. That sounds a lot like confidence. Confidence will carry my boys further than cool will. Childhood and youth only last so long. Be a child. And when you grow up...well, I also read a book called "Geeks Will Inherit the Earth." Geek adults go far.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-9465825337746081412013-10-27T19:18:00.001-07:002023-12-19T08:06:55.399-08:00When Your Mother Heart CriesWell, baby boy number 2 has finally arrived and is at home with me now and is almost always in my arms. But before I could bring him to the place where he belongs I had to leave him in a place that he did not.<br />
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After hours of labor four years ago, I brought my first son into this world. They placed him in my arms almost immediately and he stayed there until they wrapped him up so that he could join my husband and me in my room. He stayed there with us until it was time for me to go home, we placed him in his carseat and he has been with us ever since.<br />
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3 weeks ago I labored for hours but had an easier birth. I brought my second son into this world except that he didn't get placed into my arms right away. I looked around and waited expectantly, my husband says euphorically. They told me to hold on while they cleaned him up and then I heard low voices. They let me hold him for a minute and then took him away again. I was disappointed but knew that soon he would be where he belonged. Then they told me that he was breathing rapidly and that he would need to go into the NICU. I wanted to know what they meant and how long but they didn't know how long, they couldn't say. I couldn't process the fact that they were taking him from me, my labor had gone so well and this wasn't supposed to happen. I asked them if I could hold him and if his big brother could see him. They hesitated slightly and then said that we could. So, I held him and Elijah touched him and smiled and said: "I love my baby." But just for a minute and he was taken away from me.<br />
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Each day I was in the hospital I hoped that they would bring him to me but as the hours passed I began to realize that even bringing him home when I was discharged could very well be an impossibility. I went to visit him every three hours to try and get him to nurse. At some point my legs got very swollen and the nurse in the NICU did not realize that I was walking up to the room every three hours and not being wheeled up. She told me that the next time I needed to be wheeled up there and that I needed to rest. I took her advice because I felt as if my legs were going to give out. I wanted to make sure I was there with my baby.<br />
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The longer I stayed the more I could look around instead of staring intensely at my new one. I heard one mother singing to her child: "Just put your mind to it, you can do it" and in a soft mother voice that small rhyme made me cry. How long had she been there? What was her baby going through? Mine had only been there three days and seeing him with so many wires on his small body, knowing he had to stay there, that I had to leave him there, was torture. </div>
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When I was "discharged" from the hospital on Thursday night my heart felt like it was breaking. We would only be 15 minutes away and we were coming back in 6 hours. We left at 11:59 the minute before it turned to Friday and came back at 6AM. Around 5PM the next day the nurse in charge of him said that he was going to be able to come home with us that night. I was so happy I didn't know what to do with myself. Finally after paperwork and instructions they wheeled us out of the NICU. My happiness did not dissipate but I started to feel a weight on my heart as I became aware of every other mother that was in there, still by her baby's bed, looking at me taking my lovely one home. And I started to cry. I had cried so much that week: not being able to hold him, not having him with me, seeing him breathing rapidly and wondering what that meant for him. But now I was crying for all the mothers that saw me take him home after only four days.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And now my blessing is home where he belongs. I cry for happiness that he is here and in my head "Put your mind to it, you can do it" still plays in my head and I think of all the mothers and yearn for them to have their babies home too.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-64658979685101399262013-09-17T06:31:00.002-07:002023-12-19T08:07:41.339-08:00Little Man's Birthday Cake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-5PrdnkBZlAbkte7te7GYihUp88QDMI0JMK0hQIsII3M4-BMlC4RiyzwbVF6lJPqu-qxLhy0wfBKrKWqa_R8n9zzIbb_dXUnxgUAJMZldZGc7ODuldReMUTGlJt8M0Asij3o9SS5WJvmC/s1600/_MG_0600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-5PrdnkBZlAbkte7te7GYihUp88QDMI0JMK0hQIsII3M4-BMlC4RiyzwbVF6lJPqu-qxLhy0wfBKrKWqa_R8n9zzIbb_dXUnxgUAJMZldZGc7ODuldReMUTGlJt8M0Asij3o9SS5WJvmC/s400/_MG_0600.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
So, yes, it is another recipe post but this seems to be the easiest option when you are about a month away from delivering a baby but you want to put something out there on your blog. Besides this turned out way more delicious than I even thought it would be.<br />
<br />
I have to admit that when I looked up this recipe I typed in "Vanilla Bean Cake" because I thought it would be extra Vanilla-y if it was made from Vanilla Beans. I wasn't looking for a gluten free cake or anything but I got one and all the sweetening was natural and good for you. Nothing with Vanilla Beans came up in the search and I found them too expensive anyway. So, I thought I would give this cake made with white beans a whirl.<br />
<br />
My son asked for "Manilla" cake for his birthday and he loved it. My dad ate four pieces of the cake (but he still doesn't know what it was made out of) and everyone else finished their's off. So here is the recipe. I altered it quite a bit from the original source:<br />
<br />
"Manilla" Cake:<br />
<br />
Add to blender (or food processor):<br />
<br />
3 Cups of ....cooked white beans, pureed (I used dry White Northern Beans, soaked and then cooked them) let them cool to room temperature so that they do not cook the eggs.<br />
<br />
9 eggs<br />
<br />
1.5 T Lemon Juice<br />
<br />
2 T Vanilla extract<br />
<br />
1/2 cup of honey<br />
<br />
Puree well.<br />
<br />
<br />
THEN ADD:<br />
<br />
3 T Agave Nectar<br />
3/8 cup of Coconut oil<br />
1/2 cup flax seed meal<br />
1/2 t sea salt<br />
1.5 t baking soda<br />
2 t baking powder<br />
<br />
Puree well<br />
<br />
Pour into a 9 x 13 and bake at 325 for 55-60 minutes.<br />
<br />
"Manilla" Frosting ( I did a very thin coating)<br />
<br />
Melt 1/2 cup of White Chocolate Chips<br />
Dash of Vanilla Extract<br />
A little Heavy Cream<br />
A teaspoon of butter<br />
Whip it with an egg beater and then spread on the cake.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-32339629641378102752013-09-07T11:18:00.002-07:002023-12-19T08:08:08.483-08:00Healthy Popsicles<u><br /></u>
So, I am sure that it is not just me that has a problem getting their child to eat vegetables. I used to think that it was a matter of parents not introducing vegetables early enough and not requiring them to be tasted. I am not sure if there is some influence in some other sphere that causes my son to think he should not try vegetables but my 3 year old declares that he doesn't like them (and then as kids like to do he contradicts himself and says he likes this or that vegetable for that day).<br />
<br />
He has both been introduced early on and is required to eat at least a little bit each day. My husband heard a theory that our taste buds, when young, respond very negatively to bitter tastes as a means of protecting us from harmful substances. So, when children taste vegetables they react instinctively. I get that. Maybe that is part of it.<br />
<br />
I have had some success by explaining that it is healthy for him to eat vegetables and by not allowing him to say that he does not like them until he has eaten some of what is on his plate. However, he still doesn't<b> love</b> them so I have to get them in any way I can and I have found popsicles to be an amazing resource. I would also like to note that he is aware that there are vegetables in his popsicle but he still loves them and I think that is an important step.<br />
<br />
Through experimenting I have found ways to make a variety of colors. Kale and Spinach are virtually undetectable when paired with Banana and apple juice, I promise. I was a skeptic until I tried it. Now I regularly make banana spinach smoothies. So, green smoothies were my first experiment, but, then, my son wanted some orange popsicles and I knew the green juice would overwhelm any other color, what should I do? Carrots are sweet and orange, Squash is so mild-bam, orange popsicles! Then my son wanted red popsicles. I decided to go with a beet. It was risky but they have so much benefit nutritionally and, also, they don't have to be juiced because they aren't leafy so they puree perfectly. NOTE: I don't cook any of the vegetables, you don't have to and you get way more nutrition. Guess what? Success!<br />
<br />
My advice? Just don't try to go too far, sneaking in as much as you can, and pushing the veggie limit because then they will be unpalatable and you will not have won any battle. Not only do these get much needed nutrition in but he views them as a treat and soon maybe he will view a platter of veggies the same way.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1RGmCd_atEcQZGkjjYSs8J9GAgZIp4veMzKRNqSt7Um_g7k-enQdT6W5xzyw_yS1GtwQRWRfIS1NrigFjo8yDkzLJT45Bvd7WhgjahTUmUQkLEx3h_5Oj4W3orJjvpjX5iI6Pq5XrPB_m/s1600/SAM_0326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1RGmCd_atEcQZGkjjYSs8J9GAgZIp4veMzKRNqSt7Um_g7k-enQdT6W5xzyw_yS1GtwQRWRfIS1NrigFjo8yDkzLJT45Bvd7WhgjahTUmUQkLEx3h_5Oj4W3orJjvpjX5iI6Pq5XrPB_m/s320/SAM_0326.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<u>Green Popsicle (6 popsicles)</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
Juiced Kale or Spinach (3 oz. of juice)<br />
Banana (1.5 large banana)<br />
Apple Juice (2 cups)<br />
Carrot juice (3 oz. of juice)<br />
<br />
<u>Red Popsicle (8 popsicles or 6 and a smoothie for yourself)</u><br />
<u><br /></u>
Beets (2 large beets)<br />
Raspberries (1 pint)<br />
Strawberries (1/2 cup)<br />
Banana (1)<br />
Apple Juice (1 cup)<br />
<u><br /></u>
<u>Orange Popsicle (6 popsicles)</u><br />
<br />
Juiced Carrot (5 oz.)<br />
Squash (half a yellow squash)<br />
Banana (1.5)<br />
Apple Juice (2 cups)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-5074242377730377052013-07-14T21:40:00.001-07:002023-12-19T11:48:58.387-08:00Guys and Dolls<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
In a few months my son is going to have a totally new
experience thrust upon him, one that will change his life from all he has
previously known. He will no longer be an only child, he will become a brother.
It is funny to think that the son in my belly will never know what it is like
to not be a brother, he will always be one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In preparation for the birth of this new one I decided to
buy my son a doll. I could show him how to hold it properly, push it in the
stroller, change a diaper, and all sorts of things that will be useful for him
to learn. He can learn to care for a small person, to be gentle, to nurture and
this can be a great thing even if he were not going to have a baby brother
soon. We do not buy many toys for him so
this was going to be a treat. He only gets one birthday gift and three
Christmas gifts, maybe some crayons or a book during the year. There are many
people who love to get him gifts, though, but none have bought him a doll, I
imagine it hasn’t crossed their minds either. Why? Because he is a boy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The fact that boys aren’t supposed to play with dolls was
brought home clearly as I tried to find a doll for my son. I am not ignorant or
naïve, I understood in the back of my mind that, largely, pink and dolls aren’t
acceptable for boys in the collective mind of society, especially the Christian
community (do I want to “make” him a homosexual?!) It is interesting and
frustrating to me that teaching a boy how to nurture is not a top priority and
is, in fact, something people are a little uncomfortable with or downright
adverse to. It was also interesting and frustrating trying to find a doll for
my son and encountering what I have heard dubbed the “pink” aisle. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My son is three years old and will be four shortly. I let
him know that we were going to find a baby doll for him before we ever set out
on the mission, he was excited and couldn’t wait to get his “baby.” I had
already perused the internet and Toys R’ Us was the only place that seemed to
have a somewhat life like male doll. So, we started there. When I got to the
store I wasn’t sure where to look and asked an associate for help. He looked at
me surprised and said that he didn’t think they had anything like that. I told
him I had seen it online and so he went to ask a superior about it. She looked
at me sort of quizzically, said they didn’t have anything like that and was
also surprised when I said that I had seen it online. They looked it up and I was escorted to an
aisle that was inundated with pink and light purple. In fact, the only other color was the one male
doll dressed in blue. It was twice as much as all of the other dolls and hard,
immovable plastic. I didn’t know what to
do, this was the ONLY doll that wasn’t dressed in pink or purple, but it wasn’t
what I was looking for. Now, I have written a <b><a href="http://emilyswindowseat.blogspot.com/2012/09/my-son-loves-color-pink.html" target="_blank">previous post</a> </b>about my son and how he likes pink. I’ve bought him a
pink cup and he admires it along with all the other God given (to every gender)
colors. However, my husband has a qualm with too much pink stuff. Not that he
thinks that God only set that color aside for little girls but he believes that
although we should encourage our son to be his own person we shouldn’t set him
up for bullying. I respect my husband and so I conceded when we went to the
store for socks and my son wanted pink socks. We settled for white. My problem with the pink aisle is that making
everything pink and purple <b>signifies </b>to
everyone that “this toy is a girl’s toy.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If making everything pink and purple was not enough to warn
you away, this is what is written on the box that you buy the doll in: “Soft
baby dolls to cuddle and exciting features dolls ready to nuture are all part
of the fun in You & Me! Young girls will love taking care of their precious
bundles while pretending to be a mommy or a caring friend” and Toysrus.com: “You
& Me baby dolls, baby doll clothes, and accessories let girls be girls
while pretending to be adults. You & Me baby dolls offer collectible and
pretend play time dolls that reflect the personality of every girl.” Beside the use of “girl” it is certainly
untrue that only pink and purple dolls will “reflect the personality of <b>every</b> young girl.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=139562015137076940" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>I want my son to be able to pretend to be a daddy or “caring
friend” and I want it to be encouraged among society at large. I know this is a
large order with all that has been ingrained in us, but I am only stating my
wishes. At the least I would like for opinions to be left to the people who own
them. To me the pink aisle is not only a
discouragement to little girls to branch out, to be strong, courageous, brave,
and thinkers (in addition to nurturing) but it is a symbol of the lack of
encouragement we give to young boys to be gentlemen and loving fathers in our
society. We think we are breeding “men” but our definition seems to be grotesquely
skewed. I realize that seems to be a lot
of emphasis placed on one small thing, but to me it symbolizes a lot and that
is what I am getting at. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=139562015137076940" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My son is still only three and he hasn’t quite internalized
all of this yet. He saw a doll he liked, picked it up and placed it in a violet
heart stroller, he happily pushed it around the aisle while I tried to make up
my mind what to do. The associate came around to see if I had found it and marveled
at my son’s gentleness with the baby. After a little deliberation I decided to check
out a few more stores, my son was disappointed that he wasn’t able to take “his”
baby home. Needless to say ( well not needless) the other stores had so many
dolls and great accessories but they were all in your choice of two colors-pink
or purple. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With some dismay, I went back to Toys R’ Us and bought both
the stroller and the doll my son had picked out. It wasn’t until a few nights
ago that I managed to make some new clothes and new seat cover for the
stroller.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk3K41yAq_Ox36Mu8oDahCkahaF9MaM9fcjH9j5d058arMkPjH7hCl7esZlVM_kwi9bUxhc78lhQ8DgD98W3VDUfgtBgKQJsi-CYacvErpWb0RThzN8nRE3CZtdJc7hoz6Rqgm7UBwPcr4/s1600/SAM_0725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk3K41yAq_Ox36Mu8oDahCkahaF9MaM9fcjH9j5d058arMkPjH7hCl7esZlVM_kwi9bUxhc78lhQ8DgD98W3VDUfgtBgKQJsi-CYacvErpWb0RThzN8nRE3CZtdJc7hoz6Rqgm7UBwPcr4/s200/SAM_0725.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /> </o:p></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvNNoKmzHAdPNhEfj0zQbiHp1QOI_Z5COVu5H97Q4SBUbVfJDEK_KUD-MUo9xpTKVtYaL0M2Ofd3m8pU7ixbuDNPGo9AlX9brdSmcZvV2eHqyNdV0md20d8wgnY9ZAi3R_3mVHY1qp-T-t/s1600/SAM_0726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvNNoKmzHAdPNhEfj0zQbiHp1QOI_Z5COVu5H97Q4SBUbVfJDEK_KUD-MUo9xpTKVtYaL0M2Ofd3m8pU7ixbuDNPGo9AlX9brdSmcZvV2eHqyNdV0md20d8wgnY9ZAi3R_3mVHY1qp-T-t/s200/SAM_0726.JPG" width="150" /></a><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tonight as we ate dinner my son told us that we needed to
talk quietly because the baby was asleep. My amusement was replaced by a sweet
feeling as he put his doll on the couch, grabbed a blanket from his bed and
covered him up. I could hear him whispering quietly to the baby. He was letting
him know that he didn’t have to be scared of bad dreams and he tucked him in “comfy
and cozy”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFs9_RMoXjz6HY3KdmwoFFcIovoVAoxXA5SRaetMFWzaLUSVZom4HVBQZ9BIItSQWMSwI2Kycw9yIdl7iQWvjfBV46XuPpuqkMjW-QNz8NxxV8VwjKWzufavR8GIcplBeXZIeuLLn2NwfE/s1600/SAM_0727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFs9_RMoXjz6HY3KdmwoFFcIovoVAoxXA5SRaetMFWzaLUSVZom4HVBQZ9BIItSQWMSwI2Kycw9yIdl7iQWvjfBV46XuPpuqkMjW-QNz8NxxV8VwjKWzufavR8GIcplBeXZIeuLLn2NwfE/s320/SAM_0727.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After dinner he spent a little snuggle time and gave his
baby a few kisses before he was off to the park to hang out with daddy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvGJ7Ww-l8gt5BlNcX7NXSdlvDLZaC0Ckhusu23AGqkxpE-DfsYMQDEMe1nwzYd5sFNPP56aoAE7okaCAGFh-j2_q9dsOFpq_bOMux4d2I75_uC69SO0pzowe4FoE6eyccyDtQbYfi75Lt/s1600/IMG_0335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvGJ7Ww-l8gt5BlNcX7NXSdlvDLZaC0Ckhusu23AGqkxpE-DfsYMQDEMe1nwzYd5sFNPP56aoAE7okaCAGFh-j2_q9dsOFpq_bOMux4d2I75_uC69SO0pzowe4FoE6eyccyDtQbYfi75Lt/s320/IMG_0335.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want my son to be strong and courageous, to be brave and
sure of himself. I want him to be a friend to the friendless, to have a heart
for the poor and the weak, the lonely and the unloved-the old, the young, and children.
I love that he plays in the dirt, makes towers and knocks them over, gets
muddy, wrestles and races. I also love that he dances and signs, gives
kisses, loves to cook, want to learn to sew, and tucks his baby dolls in for
sweet dreams. I do not want those aspects to be teased out of him. I do not
want that diluted manhood subtly hinted at and taken in by him. I am afraid
because it is woven in and out and all around us. Enough small things amount to something big-comments,
looks, disapproval. Everyone from the stranger in the grocery store to his boyhood
friends will help to prod him early on. My question is: “What are we actually
teaching our boys both about themselves and women?” What value is it to extract
things he loves and are of no harm-to suppress emotional expression,
tenderness, gentleness and to promote a superior attitude and mindset? Strength
and gentleness are not mutually exclusive- neither is logic and emotion. If we all pondered this or believed it we
could all accomplish greater things. There wouldn't be such a war between the
sexes but a mutual respect for the abilities that each one has and what each
one contributes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want my son to be a man who loves and honors God, his
family, and his neighbor…strongly, gently, and unabashedly. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139562015137076940.post-34297015847815584502013-06-20T12:21:00.002-07:002023-12-19T11:51:51.775-08:00Modesty<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<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/AVvXsEgvJPmFYJi2y3r0WKGwAsOFtiSqWI66hgRs55J-pdH206L5Cx6ua-5c2Sn6aPxqY9VLMGKCVke5yRYLTGYZe3Gqp1DYRy1D3aSzFPYaJXCOSwB6z7Rct0zSqPcZU6H4taMrvjuts10y6xiS/s1600/97+year0239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJPmFYJi2y3r0WKGwAsOFtiSqWI66hgRs55J-pdH206L5Cx6ua-5c2Sn6aPxqY9VLMGKCVke5yRYLTGYZe3Gqp1DYRy1D3aSzFPYaJXCOSwB6z7Rct0zSqPcZU6H4taMrvjuts10y6xiS/s200/97+year0239.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp Swim Time</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Now that summer is upon us
my Facebook page is rife with posts about swimsuits and modesty. I want to
begin by saying that I place a high value on modesty and have read both links I
have received (one that is very popular right now of Jessica Rey speaking) and
one that I have only seen once. Further, I want to say that I place a value so
high on it that I am concerned with the way it is treated and taught in the
church (when I refer to the church I mean the body of believers as a whole and
the place we meet). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I am troubled with the
church in the state that is in today in quite a few ways and I freely admit that
as a woman this particular aspect affects me. However, if it only affects me
and not also a significant other half of the population I would not be so
impelled to write about it. An attitude and teaching that is perpetuated like
this keeps us divided, unequal, and therefore, makes it difficult to use all of
one's abilities to reach out to those within and outside of the body of
believers-to love our neighbor as deeply as we should, the neighbor that we see
next to us in the pew, in a store, and on the internet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The church I grew up in had
a few rules when it came to any sort of outing and a large percentage pertained
to the way we dressed, most of it being directed to the female population of
the league of extraordinary youth. We had rules about sleeveless shirts, the
length of our shorts, the tightness of our clothes, and, the most layered, what
we could swim in. The girls were required not only to wear a one piece swimsuit
but to also wear a T-shirt and shorts over the swimsuit. Don’t forget that the
t-shirt could not be thin or white and the shorts still had to measure the
correct length. And I don't mean TO the pool I mean IN the pool. The boys did
have to wear a shirt as well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">We also had a Sunday School
series that was called “Someday…A Marriage Without Regrets.” It covered roles
of men and women, communication, etc., etc. I don’t remember a lot about it but
I do remember a few scenes that have stuck in my head. I remember them as
clearly as I would like to on an emotional level but not as clearly as I would
like to for purposes of sharing. That being said, one particular scene: a
girl-tall and beautiful- standing up in front of our class both boys and girls.
The question was about modesty. When I say “modesty” I mean the definition that
Christians have come up with to mean the way that a woman dresses. The boys
were encouraged to answer as this girl stood in front of the class while the
teacher said: “If _____ was your girlfriend and she was dress in such and such
a way…” I don't remember specific words but I remember shame. I remember I
wanted her to sit down, feeling embarrassed for her, I wanted to tell the proud
answer givers my opinion but sat there, instead, knowing that a differing view
was not actually welcome; knowing that I was an exemplary youth and that if I
said something against it I might be looked at as less, embarrassed that I
should be sitting in shame and not the in the glory that God made me- God’s
glorious image. There was shame of my body, shame of sex, shame of being a woman.
I remember being angry-angry that she was standing there helpless while guys
were allowed to criticize her and all womanhood in a roundabout way; while guys
were allowed to be above us; while guys were allowed to be unaccountable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Once again, I believe that
modesty is a virtue something to be pursued. I believe in the right of men to
want a “lady” but also in the right of a “lady” to desire a “gentleman.” I
believe that God calls all of us to help each other and that modesty in dress
is beneficial. I also believe that modesty does not have only to do with
outward appearance and that humility, modesty, and self-control should be
expected in men. I believe that a man’s desire is not uncontrollable and that
his lust is a choice. I believe also that there is a very real problem not
addressed- this problem is that the church does not acknowledge the very real
feeling, desires, and nature that a woman deals with as well. That the call for
women to be the “gatekeepers” of purity leads to them having to tend to a man’s
desire and hold back her own as well. It is taught that women are reactors so
that any desire she feels has not originated in her but has come out of
desiring affection or previous lack of affection in her life, want to please,
or debasement. Ironically, while this shows our lack of spirituality a man can
be fully spiritual when he admits to being lustful. In fact, he is now fully a
man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The series that my Youth
Group did led to many discussions about women and modesty both from our
teachers and within the youth group from teen to teen. It led to male youth
feeling "led" and very proud that they could come up to a girl and
let them know that their particular outfit was "making them stumble,” thereby,
shaming her but elevating himself somehow. There was no shame for their
stumbling, only toward the stumbling block. No matter how hard we would have
tried or decently we dressed their mind was their own stumbling block. There
was no love and there was no humility. There was no modesty in their attitude. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Modesty-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">1.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Having or showing a moderate or humble
estimation of one’s merits, importance, etc.; free from vanity, egotism,
boastfulness, or great pretensions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">2.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Free from ostentation or showy extravagance<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">3.<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> Having
or showing regard for the decencies of behavior, speech, dress, etc.; decent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">PART TWO <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">We are all called to
humility, modesty, and love. As men and women we are equal and different-then
again, not so different really. We must
all uphold one another. We must not perpetuate women as less, women as seducers
(I was taught about the “strange” woman and her luring of men), women’s desire
as unnatural (looking only to please and for affection), women’s responsibility
as sole gatekeeper, women’s gullibility. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">One more story. I was on Youth
Drama Team at our church. We regularly presented skits and plays before the
sermon at our Friday night youth gatherings. So many of them were powerful and
I remember being affected by quite a few of the characters I played, all in a
good way even when it was painful emotionally. However, I do remember being
required to be in a certain skit that I am still ashamed to have been a part. A
boy in our youth group, being inspired by all of the talk about modesty and
girl’s dress, wrote a skit. It was approved and my best friend and I were
picked to do the two parts it required. I remember reading it and being
conflicted, memorizing it and feeling ashamed and angry. The skit featured two
female biblical characters (I believe it was Jezebel and Potiphar’s Wife) discussing
modesty and all of the hurtful thinking that has been spouted by the Christian
church was packed in that little space of ten minutes. I cannot even quote the
script verbatim because I don’t have it anymore. I kept almost all of the
scripts I received but not that one. I grimace thinking about that play. I was
so ashamed after the skit I didn't want to come out of the changing
room afterward. Funnily, I remember my best friend doing a pretend tease and
saying: “Take it off, take it all off” while we were changing, which was pretty
clever considering what we had just done. I think we were both ashamed
Ironically, I did glance at myself and my outfit in the mirror on my way out
and wonder if it met all the standards it should. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
This is all a problem because it focuses on how we relate to men and not to
God. It makes our lives centered on them, not around God. It makes men
elevated, and women left alone. It creates a culture that faults anything that
happens to a woman's body and emotions to her lack of spirituality. It stunts
women's creativity, talents, and gifts. It stunts the work the church can be
doing in this world that needs us. Not just the teaching that modesty and the
suffusion of male lust is up to the woman, but the thoughts that molded that
idea in the first place and then the attitude it perpetuates.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br />
Men, we will uphold you. We will try to act modestly, dress modestly, and
behave so-for God. And we ask you to do the same. Act with humility and do not
blame your lustful thoughts and actions on anyone but yourself. You are in
control of them. Also, we need your help because we do not lack desire-physical
desire. We have desire both for love and for your body. We enjoy the sight of
your body, your looks, and your touch as well and not just when we are loved or
think we are loved by you. We believe that you can be hurt by a physical
relationship without love just as we can and that we can enjoy a physical
relationship without love just as you can (though neither of us should). Act
with modesty in speech, in manner, toward us. Act with responsibility just as
we will.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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