tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56665470531248022032023-11-16T02:58:40.172-08:00A Penny of My ThoughtsStacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-6949280905744985152018-09-29T14:10:00.000-07:002018-09-29T14:13:19.512-07:00Making a Difference<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This is going to be a rare post. Not rare in terms of time between writings - although that seems to be true as well - but rare in terms of content. There are some topics that I tend to shy away from when I write. Often, my hesitancy is due to my lack of knowledge on the subject. At times, it has been because of the position I held as part of a church staff. In this instance, my hesitancy has always been the divisive nature of the topic – politics.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Before you shut your laptop, start a game on your tablet or check the email on your phone, I hope that you will give me a chance. It’s really not as much about politics as it is about the culture of America. As one person, I cannot change the political climate. Yes. I can vote to make my voice heard – and I do. One voice in nearly 57,600,000. According to some reports that is approximately 30% of the number of voters who were eligible vote in 2016. That would make my voice one in 192,000,000 (if my math is correct). So, how do I make a real difference? Make people think. You may agree with me – you may not, but sharing ideas and thoughts are where real change happens. It is the mindset of 192,000,000 people that makes the difference.<o:p></o:p></div>
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For my international friends who may not know, our President is in the process of nominating a new justice to serve on our Supreme Court. The candidate he has selected has been accused of sexual misconduct when he was in high school. Sexual misconduct is wrong. Black and white. No arguments here. My concern is with the timing of the accusation.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Here is a quote from the victim given during the Senate hearing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I am here because I believe it is my civic duty to tell you what happened to me while Brett Kavanaugh and I were in high school.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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…my civic duty… Judge Kavanaugh has been involved in the political arena since the Clinton era. He has served in the district court of DC since 2006, and according to Politico, he brought with him a “a long record of jurisprudence.” Where was the “civic duty” during his tenure prior to this nomination?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Once again, let me be clear. Sexual assault and sexual misconduct are wrong. My problem with this issue is that it apparently wasn’t wrong for most people until it was convenient. If it is wrong now that he is a Supreme Court nominee, it was wrong when he was selected for his first bench. Why was it not brought forth at that time? We need to be holding our state and local officials to the same standards as our national officials. If we truly want to get the sludge out of our government – both republican and democrat – we need to stop allowing it to get that far.<o:p></o:p></div>
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All that being said, it comes down to an issue of integrity, both of the candidates and voters. There is no one without sin, but until we start living our everyday lives as people of integrity, we can only expect more allegations to be made – substantiated and unsubstantiated. We need to be the difference makers.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-46053392736600365262018-04-19T09:53:00.000-07:002018-04-19T09:58:15.616-07:00Two Stoplights<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Perception is everything, or so it seems. We've all seen fabulous photographs on Facebook or social media that we later find out were just a trick of lighting, a well placed camera angle or a beautiful job of PhotoShop. Even in communication, it is not so much what you say as what others perceive you said that matters most.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was thinking about this today as I drove to my church. I live approximately 12 miles from there, and the time to make the trip ranges from 17-23 minutes (according to Google Maps). I was excited to realize this morning that one of the routes I take only has two stoplights! The distance didn't change. The amount of time it takes me to travel that route didn't change. My perception changed. That has to be the best route because it has only two stop lights!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was reminded of a friend. We met in MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers). She had moved here from the Washington DC area, and I had moved here from Dayton area. Fort Wayne is a relatively small town. Although it is the second largest city in Indiana, compared to the likes of NYC, or Los Angeles, we are a small town. In fact we are 74th on the list of largest cities in the US.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My friend, who lived "on the other side of Fort Wayne", shared with me that a lot of her friends in MOPS wouldn't do things on her side of town because she lived "so far away." We laughed about it because where we came from it wasn't unusual for it to be a 20-30 minute drive to get to just about anywhere due to distance and traffic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">How often do we miss out on building that great relationship, or attending that party, or going to that concert because it is just too far away? Don't get me wrong. I realize there are times when distance and cost to travel can be a hindrance. I've been there. I also realize, though, that we often are able to do things that we consider a priority, even when it may be a bit more difficult, because of the perceived value.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My friend and I did lose touch after MOPS. It wasn't because she lived too far away. It was because our kids grew up and were involved in different things. Still, I was one of the people her husband called when she passed away a few years ago. She was my friend because I didn't let a few miles keep me from doing life with her while I could. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My challenge for today is take the extra effort to visit that friend. Buy those tickets for Disney on Ice and make a memory with your child. Invest in the lives of those around you, because you never know when you might not have that opportunity. Children grow. Friends truly do move a long way away. Ultimately, people pass away. We aren't guaranteed tomorrow. Please don't let a couple of stop lights keep you from the blessings that are only a few miles away.</span></div>
Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-84762664537200911822018-04-17T20:33:00.001-07:002018-04-17T20:34:44.063-07:00sNOw JUST sNOw<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This morning I was greeted with snow. What started with just a few flurries soon turned into what looked to be a blizzard in the making. Thankfully, we only got a light dusting - which would be fun in late NOVEMBER but it's APRIL.<br />
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I am a beach girl to the core, but I do like the way the sun sparkles on new snow - in WINTER. I love watching the snow fall sitting next to the fireplace and the lighted tree at CHRISTMAS. Watching the snow fall outside my window in APRIL - NO JUST NO.</div>
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I struggle with a Seasonal Affective Disorder. I am not sure if it is a coincidence that the abbreviation is SAD, but it is convenient. I struggle when there is no sun. I lack motivation and I am ... sad.</div>
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Maybe that is why I am a beach girl at heart. I know there are beaches where they have winter, but I have never been to one. I associate beaches with sunshine, warmth and the soothing crash of the waves. (Yes, I know they have hurricanes as well, but not in my fantasy beach world.) </div>
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In fairness, we haven't had a lot of snow this winter. It has mostly just been cloudy and rainy. I got through it thinking that Spring would be coming. I am starting to doubt it. The forecast for our area is calling for possible snow again on Thursday.</div>
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I know that we are blessed when it comes to snow. I live in Indiana. Minnesotans scoff at what we call a lot of snow. I am sure numerous Canadians and Alaskans do as well. I am aware that Lynchburg, VA, was hit with a tornado this week, and even Hawaii, considered one of the most beautiful places in the world, is dealing with flooding. I have no right to be sad over a little snow.</div>
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Ironically, I will just have to remind myself once again of the words of King Solomon - for everything there is a season. Hopefully soon, though, I will be thinking about another quote, this time from Song of Solomon:</div>
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For behold, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. Song of Solomon 2:11-12.</div>
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Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-46716482048755866712018-04-16T19:12:00.000-07:002018-04-16T19:13:01.007-07:00It's Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In Ecclesiastes, King Solomon tells us that there is a time for everything, yet in today's culture, time seems to be a scarce commodity. We each have a litany of things for which we wish we had more time, but those items tend to get pushed aside in the tyranny of the urgent.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This has been, and continues to be, a struggle for me as well. In December of 2016, I resigned from a position I had held for the previous 8 years. I loved my job, but due to some health reasons and some things going on in our lives, my husband and I felt that this would be the best decision for our family.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was excited about the prospect of being home again. My plan was to get my house thoroughly cleaned and organized, spend time with friends that I felt like I had neglected while working, and find some volunteer opportunities where I could use my gifts and passions to make a difference in my little corner of the world. Great goals, right?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Now, fast forward one year plus. Things look pretty much like they did in December of 2016. The tyranny of the urgent, or in some cases the lack of, has left me struggling to find my balance. I may be better rested, but I have not remotely met the goals I had set for myself when I resigned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">One of the goals that I hoped to attain was to begin writing again. I love to write. I have written devotionals and shared my thoughts here in the past, but for some reason, I stopped. Honestly, I had go to my Facebook page to find the link to my blog. It was that bad, but like Solomon, I think there is a time and this is it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So...I can't promise how often I will post, but I can promise that it will be often enough that I won't forget the web address!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Now, if I could just get my house under control...</span></div>
Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-84580905290273289942012-10-15T18:47:00.000-07:002012-10-16T18:48:09.819-07:00More than a Hobby<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I did something this weekend that I had not done in a long time. It is something I used to do ALOT. In fact, for several years, I did it at least once a week. But, in the busyness of life, it is something that has gotten pushed aside by the tyranny of the urgent. It is something I miss.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now, before I lose the male readers of this column, I assure you that this article is not about paper choices, sticker options and page designs. Sure, those things are all a part of the big picture (pun intended), but I think it is more. And it is the "more" that I think I have missed more than anything.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To me, scrapbooking is about relationships. I started scrapbooking when I was in MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers), and I went into it kicking and screaming. I loved the look of the pages, but I wasn't about to put the time or the money into such a project. It wasn't until as a leadership team, it was decided that we would hold a class for those who were interested in learning to scrapbook. Being the good rule follower that I am, and wanting to show support for the leadership team, I attended the class. My pages, although I was proud of them at the time, were horrible, but I was hooked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We had craft nights about every month where several of us would get together and work on our albums, get fresh ideas and share in each others lives through pictures and conversation. It was likened to the quilting bees of old, and that analogy resonated with me. There were a lot of stories shared in those get-togethers and a lot of memories made.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As our children grew, those early get-togethers turned into play dates for the parents and eventually a get together one day a week while the kids were in school. There were 3 of us in that initial weekly group, and we knew each other better than we knew ourselves at times. Over time the composition and dynamics of the group changed, but the depth of the relationships remained. There were some deep wounds and shared sorrows, but we all grew through the experiences we shared.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, as time went on, our schedules got busier. The kids got involved in sports, and we all became working moms with different schedules to work around. We couldn't squeeze in those weekly get-togethers, but we assured each other we would still get together monthly and catch up. But we didn't.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't get me wrong, I still count each of the women that I built a relationship among my friends - some among my closest friends. But there was an intimacy in those deep relationships that is hard to nurture in infrequent get-togethers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mantra the last few weeks has been that I miss my friends. And, it's true. Whether it is my scrapbooking buddies, or friends who have moved away or even friends that I see everyday in passing, I miss the peace that comes with just being able to have a conversation - to share a laugh - to be a part of their lives for just a minute.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I guess, like scrapbooking, it comes down to priorities. I think it may be time to re-examine mine.</span></div>
Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-26761049400862525632012-07-14T23:45:00.001-07:002012-10-15T17:26:11.922-07:00It's Been Awhile...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I guess you could say that I have been on a bit of a blogging vacation. This is evidenced by the fact that I had over 45 blog posts in my "to read" folder tonight, and it has been almost half a year since I have updated my own. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My break from writing was kind of a two-fold proposition. In one sense, I have been super busy, but in another sense, I didn't like the tone of several posts I started and abandoned. I just needed to get my head together before I shared my heart. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The good news is I remembered I had a blog. The bad news is that I still don't know where my head is. If anything, it is probably more jumbled than before. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During my absence, I travelled to India. I intentionally avoided sharing my thoughts pre-trip to avoid saying stupid things and offending people as I did pre-Serbia. I will sum it up by saying that it was a totally different experience. I was more confident throughout the process and excited to see what I would learn outside of my comfort zone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I won't say it was an easy trip. It started with a stress fracture that almost derailed the whole experience. The walking boot along with the incredible heat made for some exhausting days, but spending time with the girls from the orphanage we visited made it totally worth it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There was a group of us that went for 10 days while the rest of the group stayed for three weeks. I learned a lot about Indian culture, tried several Indian foods, and ditched the boot long enough dip my toes (and unfortunately my camera) in the Indian ocean. I drank coconut milk from a coconut opened with a machete by a roadside vendor and experienced my first rickshaw ride. I held my breath as our drivers negotiated the crazy traffic, and in all honesty tried not to panic when things turned ugly and they got involved in a street fight. (One got bit. One took a pretty good blow to the head, but we were all safe.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It felt like a different world. The number of men was overwhelming. That is one aspect of the culture I will never understand. There is so little value placed on women. They are more of a commodity. In fact, while we were there, one of the little girls we were visiting was taken from the safety of the orphanage because she had been sold by her mother into the sex trafficking industry. She was 8 years old. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What am I to do with that? What am I to do with the poverty I saw? Honestly, I have avoided trying to process it. I slid back into my comfortable American life, and surrounded myself with the tyranny of the urgent. I tried to do what so many of us who are blessed beyond all rationale attempt to do - avoid the reality of it. But, it was very real. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That little girl, and millions like her, are trafficked every day. They are bought and sold and taken advantage of with the consent (and at the profit) of their family. Little girls are abandoned and left to fend for themselves just because they are female. And, they are the lucky ones. Their parents allowed them to live, and opted not to profit by selling them into bonded labor. It's heartbreaking. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, as you can see, my head is still a mess. If anything, probably more so than when I was overwhelmed with a little work stress. I wish now that was the extent of my problems, but that will never be the case again. I will always have the pictures in my mind of the beggars on the street and that sweet little girl that I could do nothing to save. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am not sure what the future holds for my blogging. I miss writing, but there are so many things calling for my attention. And, most of my thoughts seem pretty insignificant at the moment. I just wanted to check in for the few of you that care enough to follow my wanderings. Thank you. It really does mean a lot that you share my journey - however sporadic it tends to be.</span>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-26579379670211037572012-02-12T18:52:00.000-08:002012-02-12T18:52:13.780-08:00In MinistryWhen asked to list some of the most high stress jobs today, most people would list firemen, police officers, EMTs, surgeons, nurses and those in the military. I doubt many would list those in ministry.<div><br />
</div><div>I think most people have the vision, flawed as it may be, that those involved in the ministry are...like Jesus. They have a peace that passes understanding, a smile on their face, and an unending supply of strength and encouragement for others. To many, working in the ministry would be the equivalent of having a job at Disneyland. It should be the happiest place on earth.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Now, before you think I am about to bash the ministry, I am not. I am blessed to be part of an incredible church staff who ministers to an awesome body of believers. I love using my gifts and talents to serve those on the staff and in our church body. I love what I do, but I never realized how exhausting it could be to do something that you love.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Jesus often retreated to solitary places after times of great ministry. If the Son of God took time to rest, I guess I should expect that we would need that time as well, probably more so in that we are not the Son of God. But it still surprises me every time I come to this place.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I think the rub comes in that ministry is so relational. Most of the things on our to-do lists as ministry staff have little to do with things. They represent people - people we are called to serve. And the more we serve these people, the deeper our relationship with them becomes. They have found a place in our heart.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Maybe once you have been involved in ministry for awhile, you learn to set boundaries emotionally, but I haven't got there yet. I have said before that I am kind of an all-or-nothing kind of girl, and I put my heart into everything I do. When things go well, that is a good thing. It makes for joyous celebration and encouraging times in ministry. But in the same moment, a discouraging word can cloud even the best of times because I have done my best and it wasn't good enough. I am guessing I am not alone.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I look at the emotional ups and downs that I face as a ministry assistant, and I can't imagine the stress that our pastoral staff and directors face on a daily basis. They are the ones who are at the bedsides and in the counseling rooms. They are the ones walking in the trenches with those who are struggling and talking with those who need Christ as their savior. They are the ones on the front lines. They serve day in and day out all the while balancing their own families, and personal struggles and spiritual lives.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Being part of a ministry staff is a 24/7 calling - and it is stressful. It is sometimes easy to lose sight of the goal, but every so often God opens the window of heaven for a brief moment, and we are reminded of why we do what we do. We see God at work. And that makes all the difference.</div>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-89416422533239965462012-01-15T19:50:00.000-08:002012-01-15T19:56:47.900-08:00To the Least of These<i>And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ <span style="font-size: xx-small;">John 16:33</span></i><br />
<br />
Have you ever really considered this verse? It's takes the "golden rule" to a whole new level, doesn't it? <i>"...you did it to me." </i><br />
<br />
Consider the following:<br />
<br />
On December 23, a little girl was reported missing in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Rescue workers and volunteers searched for her to no avail. Several days later, it was reported that she had been through one of the most brutal, gruesome murders anyone could ever imagine. <i>"...you did it to me."</i><br />
<br />
This little girl lived in an area with 24 homes, 15 of which housed convicted sex offenders. <i>"...you did it to me."</i><br />
<br />
Last week in Atlanta, Georgia, 42,000 high school and college age students raised over $3,000,000 to help end the slavery and sex trafficking of young girls around the world - including right here in the U.S. Girls as young as five who are being exposed repeatedly to horrific acts of violence. <i> "...you did it to me."</i><br />
<br />
This past week, a little girl here in the U.S. from the Ivory Coast was refused care at a local hospital because she is a medical mission baby and doctors didn't want to take responsibility for her. <i>"...you did to me."</i><br />
<br />
And just yesterday, I read an article about a child with medical disabilities who is being denied a life-saving transplant because a medical team doesn't believe that her quality of life is such that it should be saved - even though her parents and family members want to provide the organ and the financing for the procedure. <i>"...you did it to me."</i><br />
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My heart breaks when I hear these stories. They are the essence of depravity and yet God says that whatever we do the least of these...we do it to Him. Shouldn't that frighten us? Shouldn't it make us be better? And yet how often are we content to go through life pretending that none of this exists. That we are above it. That it doesn't happen here. But it does.<br />
<br />
When are we going to stand up and make it stop? When are we going to be the voice for those who do not have one? When will we make a difference?Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-52597345601463221272012-01-05T18:16:00.000-08:002012-01-05T18:16:41.968-08:00New BeginningsI was struck a few minutes ago about the contrast of January and new beginnings. I mean, everyone knows that you make resolutions on New Year's Eve because January 1st is a new beginning. But as I walked around my neighborhood on an unseasonably warm evening, I noticed how everything is...dead. Oh sure, there was still the occasional left over Christmas display which was cheery, but the trees were dead, the grass is dead, there was ice and a few patches of left over snow. It could all be a little depressing if you think about it.<br />
<br />
I will admit though that I did find beauty in the peacefulness. After the busy weeks leading up to the holidays, the chaos of a short first week back at work, and a very long day of training today, I was feeling suffocated. I truly enjoyed the week off between Christmas and New Year. I left the laptop at work and enjoyed downtime with my family, but it didn't take long for the pressures of life push their way back in as soon as schedules returned to normal.<br />
<br />
I didn't make resolutions this year. No new resolve to lose weight. No new plan for how to have better devotions. No set reading list or bar to measure my success at any type of literary endeavor - reading or writing. In all honesty, probably because I knew they would be destined to fail. It's not that I wouldn't love to do any one of those things. I just know that at this season in my life, life is taking an extreme amount of energy on its own. Why complicate it?<br />
<br />
Proverbs 16:9 says, "In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps."<br />
<br />
I have always understood this verse to mean that a man can set a goal, but it is up to God how he gets there (or if he gets there at all). Today I am seeing it in a new light. It's a very slight difference, but it changes everything. What if it means that man can plan his course and how to get there, but if he trusts God to lead him where God wants him to go, the steps he takes will be determined as in sure and solid?<br />
<br />
For me there is a peace in that. As I trust God to lead me where He wants me to go - not where I want Him to take me, I can be assured that I will be where He wants me to be. It's kind of a cool thought, isn't it?<br />
<br />
So my new beginnings this year, aren't really new beginnings at all. It's all about a new perspective.Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-5697234580555707102011-11-28T20:45:00.000-08:002011-11-28T20:45:24.626-08:00Christmas SpiritIt's that time of year when kids of all ages start making their lists and checking it twice. And, while I know that I am not supposed to be a fan of the commercialism of Christmas, I am a huge fan of the beauty and excitement and childlike faith that this season can bring.<br />
<br />
I grew up believing in Santa Claus but not knowing a whole lot about God. It wasn't until jr. high/high school that I began attending youth group with friends and began my relationship with Him. And you know what, I have never confused the two.<br />
<br />
One of my most vivid childhood memories is from a Christmas Eve night many years ago. The house was dark and everyone was asleep when I was awakened by the sound of something in the house. When I peeked around the corner into our living room, there was a fire in the fireplace and Santa was putting a present behind our lighted tree. I didn't want to get caught, so I scurried back to bed and pretended to be asleep. I even heard the bells on Santa's sleigh as he departed for the next house on his list.<br />
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There are few things you should know about this story. First of all, my mother would never have left the Christmas tree lights on overnight. I am not even sure the fireplace in our house was functional because I don't remember there ever being a fire in there with the exception of that night, and there was no dad, relative or family friend who would have dressed up to be Santa at our house in the middle of the night. You should also know that the doll that I had asked Santa for was in that exact spot when presents were opened that Christmas morning.<br />
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The faith of a child.<br />
<br />
I am not a child anymore and there has been more than enough reality in my life to crush the spirit of the little girl who continues to believe that she saw Santa in her living room. My faith is now in a Savior who gave me the greatest gift ever - not a doll that I no longer possess - but His life for mine. A belief that there is more to life than any toy or gift that can be brought in a sleigh, and a promise that one day, instead of hiding from my benefactor, I will run into His open arms.<br />
<br />
Jesus really is the reason for the season, but I never want to lose the childlike wonder I had for Christmas when I was a little girl peeking around the corner at the picture perfect Christmas scene unfolding in my living room. And who knows, I might even write a letter to Santa this year. Why? Because it is fun to believe. :)Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-81428362721678157502011-11-18T19:41:00.000-08:002011-11-18T19:44:17.489-08:00CatalystHave you ever had a day, or week, or month when you have had so many things on your agenda that you can't seem to focus on any one of them? I am in one of those places right now. I have had so many things that I have wanted to post, and yet I either haven't had the time, or I have sat down to write and the words wouldn't come. I have come close to ceasing the blog, but it is still my thoughtful place, and I couldn't bring myself to do it.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, I was blessed to attend Catalyst One Day in Chicago with several members of the PCC staff. It was an awesome experience. I fell in love with Catalyst last year when we were able to attend the full-blown conference in Atlanta. Yesterday we were treated to an all day event featuring Andy Stanley and Craig Groeschel, with a guest presentation with Bill Hybels of Willow Creek. The focus was on creating a healthy culture, and while I think we did gain a lot as a staff, I gained a lot personally as well.<br />
<br />
I was excited about the event because Andy and Craig were my two favorite speakers at Catalyst last year. They have such a down to earth style of teaching and an honesty that is disarming. They shared a lot of great information that I am sure we will process in terms of if and how it applies to Pathway, but I was also challenged to rethink my priorities. <br />
<br />
I struggle to disconnect. I don't know if it is the whole women's spaghetti brain thing or my insecurity, but I have trouble leaving work at work. I have been doing much better about leaving the actual work there, but it is hard to reign in my brain and push out all the work stuff to really refresh and be present at home.<br />
<br />
That has to stop. There are so many other things that are important to me that are being pushed aside. Moving into the holidays, I want to be able to decorate, bake, shop and not feel like I have to cram it in here and there. With a 25 hour a week schedule, one wouldn't think that would be a problem, but it has been becoming so.<br />
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I have also been reminded of the importance of relationships. It's not that I had forgotten, but in the busyness of the everyday, relationships often get taken for granted. And then a friend (or two) is diagnosed with cancer. A family member is hospitalized with a life-threatening condition. A friend moves away. I run into a close friend and realize that I haven't talked with her in months, or I realize I haven't taken the time to visit another close friend who lives far away in years.<br />
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I love my job. I love the people with whom I get to serve. I love our church. But...I need to to be making time in my life for my job and lately I have been taking time from my job to live my life. This is not the culture I want to create for my family, or for myself. And the sad part is, I am fully responsible for it. It isn't expected of me. I have just allowed more and more of my thoughts to be taken captive by work than by home.<br />
<br />
Yesterday's conference was more than a catalyst in name only. It was the catalyst I needed to realize what I was allowing to happen to make it stop. Are Andy and Craig still my favorites? Absolutely. I think I may owe them my life.Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-55485892246697723282011-11-06T09:11:00.000-08:002011-11-06T09:29:44.113-08:00Sometimes I Forget...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...that I have fibromyalgia. That the constant pain that I feel isn't going to go away, and that it is something that I need to manage.<br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...that on top of the fibromyalgia I have bone on bone in my neck and in my lower back. That the constant pain affects my moods, but that it can't control them.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...that I have a child with special needs, and although he is fully functional and many aren't aware of all that we go through, it is a difficult road to walk.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...that I am 45. That my mom may not always approve of decisions I make, but that I have to do what is right for me.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...that I struggle with a seasonal affective disorder which sneaks up and drags me down. That I need to watch for the symptoms and catch it before it gains control.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...that I have amazing family and friends that are standing behind and believe in me even when I struggle with the deep-rooted insecurity and fear. That my value to them in not found in what I do or how I feel, but in who I am...and who I am is ok.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">BUT...</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">God never forgets. He looks at me through eyes of love, and He wants the very best for me. He wants to carry those burdens that I tend to hold on to - thinking of them as "my cross to bear." Does it hurt Him when He asks to carry those burdens, but I hang on to them? Is He disappointed? Wasn't His cross enough?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The best part is, regardless of how I feel...regardless of the circumstances...regardless of how tight I am holding on, He is right there waiting for me to let go and let Him. And in that, there is freedom to be found. All I have to do is...remember.</span></span>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-84142938085323197172011-11-04T19:32:00.000-07:002011-11-04T19:32:01.664-07:00Exactly...<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Sometimes I have so much going on inside my head that I have no room left for words.</span> - unknown</span></i>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-50149383434217088132011-10-23T20:27:00.000-07:002011-10-23T20:27:40.442-07:00Retreat ReflectionsOne of the advantages of being away from home for any length of time is that it often makes you grateful for what you have. For instance, although your queen sized-bed may not be the most comfortable one in the world, you might find that you rest better in it than say a double sized vinyl covered piece of foam on a piece of plywood when you only brought twin sheets and a sleeping bag - not that I would speak from experience or anything.<br />
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The retreat was a great getaway, although I missed several of my friends who are usually able to be there. My friend, Betsy, and I had fun chatting, scrapbooking and making friends with the group of ladies seated next to us. I completed 25 pages which is a little low for me, but there were no "drop-in" pages which tend to run the numbers up. I would definitely call it a successful weekend. Michael is now ALMOST a junior in his book (he's a senior in real-life), and I made a little more progress in my Serbia album as well.<br />
<br />
I also did a lot of thinking, and I realized a few things about myself. (Seriously, those of you who know me, don't laugh.)<br />
<ol><li>I feel responsible for EVERYTHING.</li>
<li>I am an pleaser. (Is that the right word?) I take responsibility for everyone else's well-being - emotionally and physically - often to the detriment of my own.</li>
<li>Sometimes I just want someone to realize that I have struggles too.</li>
</ol><div>I know that last one might seem a little odd to anyone reading this blog because I have been pretty open here with thoughts and feelings, but in my real life, as opposed to the faceless blogging world, I struggle with standing up for my needs, wants and desires. I would like to say it is because I have laid down my own desires for those of Christ, but that would not only be a bit nauseating, it would be untrue. I think it stems more from what I learned about myself this weekend. Unfortunately, unlike Jesus, I am not omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent, and trying to please everyone while not asking for anything in return is exhausting. Sometimes I slip.</div><div><br />
</div><div>So, off I go into a new week with my new found knowledge of yet another area that God and I need to work through. It seems as though life is coming at me from all sides right now, which either means I am doing something wrong, or more probably doing something right. I am just going to keep hanging on to the knowledge that I am not who I was pre-Serbia nor who I was even pre-weekend. God is doing a little bit each day, and someday this will all be a distant memory. Until then may I recommend another song for your listening enjoyment. I believe I heard God's voice through it this weekend, maybe He has something to say to you as well. :)</div><div><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>I Am New by Jason Gray</b></div><div style="text-align: center;">Here is a little snippet:</div><div><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Forgiven, Beloved,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Hidden in Christ,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Made in the Image of the Giver of Life</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Righteous and Holy</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Reborn and Remade</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Accepted and Worthy,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>this is our new name...</i></div>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-45397385976160236042011-10-22T05:32:00.000-07:002011-10-22T05:32:56.110-07:00DistractedI love order and design. I think that is why I so quickly fell in love with scrapbooking. Although I went into it kicking and screaming, there is something about layouts and embellishments that speaks to me. I wish I could do it more. It seems like the creative process feeds upon itself, and lately I have only been able to really scrapbook a couple of times a year. When that happens, it takes a little bit to get back into the flow.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This weekend, I am at a camp with a bunch of other women who share my passion for scrapbooking. I haven’t been terribly creative to this point, but it will come. At least I hope so.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As I sit here looking around a room full of women, brought together with the goal of recording the stories of their family through scrapbooking, I am a little bit overwhelmed. I think back over the past year and all that my family has faced, and I wonder what stories are in this room. Have others faced the same struggles? Have others been able to take a great vacation to spend time making memories with their family?<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I have to admit that I am also a bit overwhelmed by the wealth in the room as well. I know that most would not consider themselves wealthy, but the amount of money that has been spent on die cut machines alone could feed a host of children in a third world country. And then, there is the paper and the brads and albums and the scissors and the punches…. We are definitely blessed.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I don’t think I have ever really thought about either of these things before. These weekends have always been a time for stepping back from the chaos that is my life, and the last year, I came into it “hot.” The weeks preceding the retreat were crazy busy to the point that I almost didn’t come. Once I was here, I was focused on productivity. This year is different. I feel prepared and ready to create. I am just distracted.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Maybe God wants this retreat to be more than productive this year. I am kind of excited to see what he has planned. I do hope to be productive, but I am sensing that He is up to more. I would love that.<o:p></o:p></div>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-7627104123968499662011-10-10T20:21:00.000-07:002011-10-10T20:22:13.467-07:00A Mom's HeartAs I lay here tonight on a cushioned bench in a hospital room while my youngest son is attached to a ton of wires and wearing a gauze turban for a 24 hour EEG, I can't help but reflect a bit on being his mom. Being a mom in general really.<br />
<br />
Life with Jaron has always been a bit of a challenge. Shortly after our first ultrasound, we were told that there was a possibility that Jaron's life would be very short lived. There were indicators that our baby might be a trisomy 13 baby. Prior to that point, I had never even heard of that. It was suggested that we undergo an amniocentesis so that we would know what we were facing. We assured her that whatever the outcome, we would be having our baby. We agreed to the test as it would affect what medical staff would be ready at the birth. It was that test that told us that Jaron would be a boy - and that he was NOT trisomy 13.<br />
<br />
As much as I had hoped that was the end of our worries and that our beautiful baby boy would be fine, that hasn't exactly been the case. He has struggled with developmental motor skill delays which have affected every aspect of his growth. He is smaller than many of the boys his age, and struggles with some speech issues, which added to the motor skill has caused him, and his mom, more than a few tears.<br />
<br />
And now, with the onset of periodic seizures, it is just one more strike against this sweet, little boy who wants nothing more than to be a normal 5th grader and be included with other boys his age.<br />
<br />
I feel responsible. If I had been more careful during his pregnancy would things be different? If he hadn't fallen and hit his head on that trip to Canada would he be okay? If I had spent more time playing with him when he was a baby, would his motor skills be delayed?<br />
<br />
I find myself at a very fine line. My faith tells me that Jaron is the unique individual that God designed him to be. We are blessed to have such a sweet-hearted little one who makes us laugh on a regular basis. One who causes us to slow down because he truly only knows one speed - Jaron speed - and that he is growing at precisely the right rate for Jaron.<br />
<br />
But...there are so many voices that tell me otherwise. The voice of insecurity that tells me that I am not enough. The voice of condemnation that tells me if I had been a better mom, things would be different. Even the voices of others who seem to know so much more than I do about being a good parent.<br />
<br />
I know that in this, as in every aspect of my life, I have a choice as to which voices I listen to. But if I am honest, this is probably the area that I struggle the most with making the right choice. Because in the quiet moments - moments like tonight - those other voices are so loud, and the evidence seems to be in their favor. Yet, God continues to speak in that still small voice reminding me that He is always in control, and He is bigger than even this.<br />
<br />
I hope His voice wins the battle tonight because this mom's heart is struggling.Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-16965204610978935662011-10-02T17:28:00.000-07:002011-10-02T17:30:52.002-07:00Joy<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Did you know that joyless-ness is a sin? I never really thought about it that way, but it's true. We are commanded in the Bible to rejoice and to be joyful in our circumstances, so if we willingly choose to disobey the command...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have not exactly been joy-full lately. That's mostly why I haven't been posting. Kind of the..."If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" mentality. I've been really, really busy with work, and processing a lot of things. My schedule has been in overdrive too.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">John Ortberg refers to my condition as "hurry sickness." It's like multi-tasking on steroids, and in all honesty, I don't like it. There has been no down time, and there is a never-ending list of things to do that taunts me all the time. It's not fun. It's not healthy either.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, this weekend I ran away. Actually, I went to visit a friend, and although our visit was cut short by responsibilities at church, the time we spent together was good for both of us. There was a lot of laughing, great shopping, Chick-fil-a and Panda Express. It's something we should do on a regular basis, but the three hour distance, along with both our busy schedules, prevent it as often as we would like.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In my last post, I mentioned Eric and Tyler's message on community. One of the questions that came out of that message was "What is my 'here'?" I have been thinking a lot about that. If I were to sum it up I would say that my here includes a lot of upside down priorities and hurt feelings. I have allowed circumstances and unresolved issues to steal my joy. I chose to let my "here" cause me to sin.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The good news is that there is still a "there." For me, it is the spiritual discipline of slowing. It involves stepping back from the "hurry" and resting in the knowledge that who I am in Christ is enough. For me, it's more than resting, it's <b>learning</b> that who I am in Christ is enough. I cannot do everything that I am being asked to do, and that is okay. Who I am is not dependent on what I do. (That's pretty hard for this perfectionist to get her head around. :)) </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I have made massive strides in reclaiming my joy this weekend, I know that the road to my "there" is probably going to be a long one. At least now, I have a map, and the plan is to rekindle my joy and take the scenic route - want to come along? :)</span>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-63171845920574030652011-09-18T18:27:00.000-07:002011-09-19T04:19:57.759-07:00Community<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was supposed to be updating my blog, but once again I found myself on Pinterest - my favorite form of distraction. With a simple click of my touchpad, I am whisked away to a world where my friends show me all the things they think are cool, and I can show them the things I think are cool, and if they think they are cool too, they can "repin" them so their friends will see that they think that they are cool, and even perfect strangers might see it and think it is cool which is...cool.<br />
<br />
It's safe little community where I can be me without fear because the worst thing that can happen is that nobody repins my pins. Being who I am in real life isn't quite that simple. There is a lot more at stake than lack of pinning.<br />
<br />
The message a PCC today was entitled "Don't Go Alone." It was a message on the importance of community, and yet again, it made me cry. (Seriously, what is wrong with me?!) Eric and Tyler did a great job of showing how community takes us from here to there - or from where we are now to the place that God is calling us to be. Their message was simple. Community moves us from:</span><br />
<ul><li style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">complacency to commitment through accountability.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">hypocrisy to transparency through authenticity.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">judgement to understanding through acceptance.</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">vulnerability to security through assurance.</span></li>
</ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I have processed this a bit, the word that stands out the most to me is vulnerability. I think it is the hitch-pin to the concept because so many of these facets are beyond our control. We cannot control how or when others hold us accountable. We cannot control whether others will judge us or understand us as we look for their acceptance. We have no assurance that when we are vulnerable, we will be secure. The only thing that we can be 100% sure of is that we can choose to be transparent through our authenticity.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't get me wrong, I am a HUGE fan of community. As the ministry assistant to Adult:Life, it is not only my job but my passion to help others connect in it, but I can also see why so many people choose not to enter in. In Journey Groups, one of the main things we emphasize to our group leaders is to provide a place that is safe for those who attend their groups. But, until people experience what it is like to be in a truly safe community, they will be hesitant.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I learned a lot about community in the last year. I tasted true community with my Serbia team. They accepted me for who I was, assured me that I had a safe place to grow, and held me accountable as I took my first baby steps toward authenticity. It was an amazing experience, and in all honesty, I miss my team a lot. I see a few of them on a regular basis, but I rarely see others, and I feel like part of my heart is missing.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have also been reminded this year that with vulnerability sometimes comes hurt, and that people are human, and that transparency when misunderstood can get you into trouble.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">God has some amazing plans for PCC. Okay, maybe I haven't actually seen the plan, but I do know that He has blessed our church with some incredible leaders with a heart to not only draw our body into "a genuine and growing relationship with Jesus Christ" but to also teach us how to be in community with one another. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So while Pinterest can be a great form of distraction, I don't want to enjoy it too much, because for someone like me, it would be easy to find comfort in my friend lists on social media sites and lose sight of the ultimate goal of community. I have tasted and seen...and community is good.</span></div>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-75637210402873252382011-09-11T19:24:00.000-07:002011-09-11T19:28:58.900-07:00Where were you...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today is a day of remembrance in the US. It is the anniversary of the day that the terror we had heard about in other countries penetrated our border and for many became real.</span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was not my intent to write a 9/11 post. In fact, I have tried hard to avoid dwelling on the events of that awful day. This morning, during the video remembrances at church, I averted my eyes. I have skipped over most of the Facebook posts with video and picture coverage. It's not that I am uncaring or hard hearted. It's quite the opposite.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I sat in church this morning, I realized that the death toll on that day was basically the size of our congregation. If you come from a small church, or an ultra-mega church or whatever the correct terminology is, it would be hard for you to imagine, but PCC is a mega-church of around 3,000 people. I looked at our crowded sanctuary, one of four weekend services, and the reality of that number was breath taking. We all know 3,000+ is a big number, but big numbers are never really real until you have a concept of how big they really are.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My heart was broken for the people of New York on that day, those at the Pentagon and those on the planes. I have never forgotten, nor will I ever, seeing the images. But every time I allow those images to play in my head and remember the fear, the terrorists win. There is a fine line between reminding those left behind that they are not forgotten and making them relive those terrible events over and over each year.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Before 9/11, America was sheltered and naive. Post 9/11, we are definitely not naive. We experienced a great loss - not only of lives but of innocence.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I was in Serbia, at one point we drove by what remained a military headquarters which had been bombed. It was eye-opening. Not only because their country has been so heavily affected by war, but because just a few days before I had learned that at least one of my new friends had been in military service for his country. There was face where once there was a concept.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wanted to share with you some photos taken today by a friend at a memorial held in Grand Rapids, but as I was writing this I realized that the album I wanted to share was on Facebook, and I don't think I can do that. The memorial is simply called "The Healing Field." It was one of apparently 16 memorials of it's kind set up across the US. The exhibit consisted of 3200 American flags, one for each person who died in the September 11th attack. Several of the flags contained tags that told a bit about the person who died - who they were, how old they were, what they did, how many children they left behind. Each tag attached a real person to a concept. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will never forget 9/11. The irony of 9/11 or 911 was not lost on me. We were in crisis, and hopefully, we learned to value what is most important. Not the buildings of steel and glass, but the people, some of whose stories we will never know. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hopefully we still hug our kids a little tighter and love on each other a little more because of what happened on 9/11. Hopefully we will be a little safer because of measures put in place, but overall, I hope that the terrorist don't win. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today, I am proud to be an American. Although I know that we are spoiled and arrogant and have our faults, I saw what we can do as a country when we come together, and it was pretty amazing.</span></div>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-11208054280529096522011-09-04T11:31:00.000-07:002011-09-04T11:42:36.144-07:00Just Stop<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh how I wish...I wish I could make it all stop - the doctor's appointments, the children's bickering, the constant noise, the mistakes I make over and over again, the chaos that is my life. There are so many times I just want it to stop.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But...</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That isn't the way it works. The appointments will continue to come, the children will continue to bicker, there will always be noise, and I will make mistakes. God doesn't always calm the storm, but he wants me to...just stop.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This morning's sermon at PCC made me cry. I went into it not realizing how applicable it would be to my life, but as Pastor Ron wrapped up his sermon series on Sandyland, he hit a homerun to my heart. Today's message was on time - well actually, it was on taking time to rest.</span><br />
<ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rest to make room for God</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rest to embrace my limits</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rest to cultivate a deeper trust in God</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rest to prioritize what really matters</span></li>
</ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He made a lot of great points about all of us having limits, and God is God and we are not, but that wasn't what really captured my attention. As he was wrapping up, he made the statement:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Hurry weakens us to the attacks of the enemy."</span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The last few weeks have been really crazy. I have been caught up in appointments and meetings and schedules and making mistakes and fixing mistakes, and trying to be everything I need to be for everyone and failing at every step. I am exhausted. I knew I needed to stop, but it was just one thing after another, and I didn't. And...I have been weak when attacked.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am not really proud of my last post. That doesn't make what I shared any less true, but I have realized that when I allow those feelings to take root, I have added sand to my solid foundation. God is God, and I am not. I may not be able to see how it all works, but God can work miracles, and I discounted that. I traded hope for despair.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am not sure what rest will look like for me in the upcoming days and weeks, but I have to just stop. I have to spend time being refreshed by the one who gives me my strength. Probably no surprise, but God has been speaking to me through a song recently.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You must, you must think I'm strong</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">To give me what I'm going through</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Well forgive me, forgive me if I'm wrong</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">But this looks like more than I can do</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">On my own.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I know I'm not strong enough to be</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Everything that I'm supposed to be</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I give up, I'm not strong enough</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Hands of mercy won't you cover me?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Lord, right now I'm asking you to be</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Strong enough, strong enough</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">For both of us.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Well, maybe, maybe that's the point</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">To reach the point of giving up</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">'Cause when I'm finally, finally at rock bottom</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Well, that's when I start looking up</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">And reaching out</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(Chorus)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">'Cause I'm broken</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Down to nothing</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">But I'm still holding on to the one thing</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You are God</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">And you are strong when I am weak</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">And I don't have to be strong enough, strong enough</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">And I don't have to be</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Strong enough, strong enough</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(Chorus)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Strong Enough - Matthew West</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will be resting in the promise of these words this week. I KNOW I am not strong enough, and my prayer is that He will be strong enough for both of us. But, I know that first, I have to stop fighting and let Him be God. Just stop.</span></div></div><div></div>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-12733639536137654732011-09-02T19:13:00.000-07:002011-09-02T19:13:39.645-07:00On the Outside Looking In<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That's a statement that pretty much sums up how I view my life sometimes. I have attachment issues. Those who know me are probably laughing at the moment, but it's true. I tend to stay back in the shadows most of the time. I am not afraid to be up front, don't get me wrong, but when I am in a group of people, I tend to be pretty quiet and disconnected. It works for me...most of the time.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This week has been really difficult. I have mentioned some eminent changes in past posts, and I haven't handled them well. My comfort zone isn't comfortable anymore, and even though it seems like nothing has changed from the outside, things have changed considerably on the inside. For one thing I have learned a lot about myself. I have learned that maybe I haven't grown as much since Serbia as I had hoped. There is still a lot of insecurity in this girl, and that insecurity can get her into a lot of trouble.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have also come to realize that men scare me. Again, don't get me wrong, I love my husband, and I think men are a great gift from God, but I don't know how to relate to them. I am afraid of overstepping my bounds and not being who they want me to be. I've never had a dad or a big brother, and I carry a pretty deep scar from a previous relationship that often leaves me on unstable ground. The pleaser in me is a nightmare because I always fear that I am never enough - always and never. Two of those words that shouldn't be part of anyone's vocabulary, and yet they are so prevalent in mine.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These are the times when faith is hard is for me. I know that God is big and sovereign and that He loves me no matter what, but when I look at things like growing up without a dad I struggle. This can't be fixed. I am forever broken. I will never know what it is like to grow up with a dad who is proud of me. My grandfather was great, but he wasn't my dad. I will never know what it is like to have a dad or a big brother who watches out for me. My husband is great, but he's not my dad, and he has a sister.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Scripture tells me that I have a heavenly Father who has never left me, and I am thankful for that, but I am not sure that a heavenly Father can fill the void left by an earthly one. Maybe that's my lack of faith. In all honesty, I didn't know my heavenly Father until I was in high school either. I know He was there, but he wasn't a part of my life. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is my biggest struggle. It is the thing that undercuts me every time. It is the thing that so often keeps me on the outside looking in.</span>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-32222158294501475712011-08-31T17:01:00.000-07:002011-08-31T17:01:44.559-07:00Anxious<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Have you ever thought you were doing one thing and then God showed up and did something totally different? That pretty much sums up what happened to me tonight. What started as a parent meeting for my sons' youth group turned into a personal time of devotion for me - and the youth pastor had no idea.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As he was sharing about what he will be teaching the kids over the course of the year, he said in a side note that the word "anxious" comes from two words meaning "divided mind". Those two words - divided mind - nailed where I am right now. And, of course, those ever popular Philippians 4 verses popped into my head: </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your minds in Christ Jesus. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Philippians 4:6-7</i></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do not have a "divided mind." How often have I used the words "I am torn between" or something similar. But God says not to have a divided mind. He wants us to tell Him about our situation, seek His intervention, thank Him for His love and concern for us, and share our heart.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't get me wrong. I don't believe that God is a cosmic Santa Claus, but I do believe that He wants us to be honest with Him. He knows what we want anyway. But, I believe the second part of the verse brings an even bigger promise than that.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We will have a peace that we cannot explain that will guard our hearts as long as we allow Him to lead. To guard means "to protect." There is SO much comfort in that! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have been a Christian for a long time, and I am certain that I have heard numerous sermons on these verses - and I might have even heard that anxious means "divided mind," but apparently I wasn't listening. I have never understood it as I did tonight in that youth room.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Once again, God showed up and showed off when I least expected it and reminded me that I am not alone. Love that!</span>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-30724320459833920862011-08-27T05:18:00.000-07:002011-08-27T05:18:44.829-07:00Eighteen<div style="text-align: right;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrsOQmvO9TS-NdTjAPhDNQtAq3oPJdrBz9IO2SiMtLVnUutwmQ-RPfKjnyvHwiwNJ-gqwUKyBEfIiOCMotCq2-yklJbFHYTDi4Blt67Iux3yiyvai8hoSvNFT1ycq50ajoFdrHZT7E6Ac/s1600/IMG_6795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrsOQmvO9TS-NdTjAPhDNQtAq3oPJdrBz9IO2SiMtLVnUutwmQ-RPfKjnyvHwiwNJ-gqwUKyBEfIiOCMotCq2-yklJbFHYTDi4Blt67Iux3yiyvai8hoSvNFT1ycq50ajoFdrHZT7E6Ac/s320/IMG_6795.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Eighteen year ago, I met a truly amazing individual for the first time…and they let me take him home with me. I didn't know it at the time, but this person would cause me more joy and more heartache than I ever thought possible. With every success and every trip to the emergency room, I was reminded of how much my love and admiration of this individual filled my heart.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">While he is no longer that sweet little baby boy that I met in that hospital room eighteen years ago, he is becoming a man a man I am proud to call my son. His “go big or go home” attitude has given him the confidence to try new things and to approach them with a confidence that I can only dream of having. His commitment to his beliefs and his huge heart have helped him to craft who he is becoming, and I can’t wait to see all the good things that God has in store for him. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Happy Birthday, Michael! Love, Mom<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div><br />
</div>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-48030583357150808612011-08-23T17:24:00.000-07:002011-08-23T17:24:49.251-07:00Waiting <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/> <w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/> <w:OverrideTableStyleHps/> <w:UseFELayout/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There seems to be a theme in my life right now - waiting. Waiting for direction. Waiting on transitions. Waiting on test results. Waiting on therapists. Waiting for children. Waiting at stoplights.<span> </span>I HATE waiting at stoplights, by the way, but, I digress. <span>J</span> All that being said, waiting is just <b>not</b> something I do well – which is probably why God is determined to make me practice. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The last several days, I have had a John Waller song stuck in my head that I first heard during the movie Fireproof.<span> </span>It played in the background as Caleb went about his day, waiting to see what God will do in his in marriage when it seemed like there was no hope for reconciliation.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am waiting. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m waiting on You Lord and I am hopeful. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m waiting on you Lord, though it is painful,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span> </span>but patiently I will wait.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I will move ahead, bold and confident.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Taking every step in obedience.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I’m waiting I will serve you.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I’m waiting I will worship.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I’m waiting I will not faint.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’ll be running the race even while I wait….<o:p></o:p></span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The outcomes of most of my circumstances aren’t as critical as Caleb’s, but it seems that at every turn I am waiting for something. The question is, will I be patient?<span> </span>Will I be hopeful? More importantly, will I move ahead bold and confident? I hope so.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It all comes down to an issue of control – or more so – who is in control. I can live my life impatient because things aren’t happening on my timeframe, or I can trust that what needs to happen will happen in His. I can struggle in the now, or I can move ahead hopeful that tomorrow will be a better day. It’s all in the perspective.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So for now, I’ll be running the race…even while I wait.</span><o:p></o:p></div><!--EndFragment-->Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5666547053124802203.post-38548089752670409662011-08-19T05:58:00.000-07:002011-08-19T06:27:22.224-07:00When the words won't come...<span class="Apple-style-span" >There are some days when writing comes naturally. I love those days. I love seeing thoughts come together and watching the flow to see where it leads as I process through words. But there are also other days. Days when there are so many thoughts that it's almost like a bottle neck. There are so many things that I want to say, but nothing seems to want to come out. Those are the frustrating days.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I wish I knew where the problem lay. Sometimes I think it is merely overstimulation. There are so many things coming from so many different directions that I can't stay on track long enough to make a complete sentence. But other times, I fear it is something more. Regression. The fear that what I have to say will be misconstrued or not taken seriously. That I have struggled with something for "too long" in someone's eyes. That my thoughts and opinions aren't important enough. That no one cares.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >It is in those moments that I want to protect myself - when past hurts win. Those are the moments that I doubt I will ever move past those hurts and be able to be honest about who I am and what makes me...me. Those are the moments I feel truly alone.</span></div>Stacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424702364919225051noreply@blogger.com0