tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63781751457432962962024-03-13T20:40:06.738-07:00Holding On...trying not to let go...Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.comBlogger87125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-47351643036032555522010-12-15T11:49:00.001-08:002010-12-15T11:49:48.431-08:00new blog site: gutterfloating.blogspot.comGramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-44320804173287716512010-04-07T07:15:00.001-07:002010-04-07T07:23:23.751-07:00He knows.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ordfGfDc_TBeJ8MAP2dtclWa440e7aFU6mfpkUtm7CLSiVz8yx4mkmFu2C_d-p_xURKCoUpvJ-uaHnjfcwV1rkIOIplYNEO2Y3GL4OT2ZcuwYzLQy0LRn3rxCU0C2Rz9pd9NolPBxegV/s1600/silence.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ordfGfDc_TBeJ8MAP2dtclWa440e7aFU6mfpkUtm7CLSiVz8yx4mkmFu2C_d-p_xURKCoUpvJ-uaHnjfcwV1rkIOIplYNEO2Y3GL4OT2ZcuwYzLQy0LRn3rxCU0C2Rz9pd9NolPBxegV/s320/silence.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457400749817793170" /></a><br />well, here i go again. another attempt at returning to the blogging world. i'm not sure how much i have to say. oh, i have much to say. and a longing to say it - to work through it. but for personal reasons, i am not able to put it all out here in print and work through it for healing and understanding. i am fortunate, though, to realize that God knows my struggles and my heart and He listens to words unspoken or unwritten.Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-11189279586699017502009-04-27T13:42:00.000-07:002009-04-27T13:45:04.571-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKerL9DzwMUrLJ-PfPA9cvCrFS0R-QEZo4Edq8JjM8zOqFFKc8yo6CeRMbDL4Yzg_HnfZ5n4uXOaSUAOlEYHC8MlN3D3x-kO8Ef2iwwBZTpj7ce-L2EAvdecR4_0IuO1lOyZ1v1KHhoOi9/s1600-h/clean+teeth.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKerL9DzwMUrLJ-PfPA9cvCrFS0R-QEZo4Edq8JjM8zOqFFKc8yo6CeRMbDL4Yzg_HnfZ5n4uXOaSUAOlEYHC8MlN3D3x-kO8Ef2iwwBZTpj7ce-L2EAvdecR4_0IuO1lOyZ1v1KHhoOi9/s320/clean+teeth.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329474922673910018" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6zPIrh4-YgthQGn83aM8Pta2_1sgOHqwIhqOFS3LefRVP3gUfaZ8vx0OLl1we3CZPG5ol3tiPdgfwQmxG15pFfxk8lVSmwXeAPO1Busuy50W-AveuyYKr-gdw_psm5gg_DHTkETOyshua/s1600-h/easter+austin+09+006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6zPIrh4-YgthQGn83aM8Pta2_1sgOHqwIhqOFS3LefRVP3gUfaZ8vx0OLl1we3CZPG5ol3tiPdgfwQmxG15pFfxk8lVSmwXeAPO1Busuy50W-AveuyYKr-gdw_psm5gg_DHTkETOyshua/s320/easter+austin+09+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329474682366238754" border="0" /></a><br />successful visit to the dentist for liam. 3rd birthday party for ellaiden in april.Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-91028791802525153102009-03-27T21:26:00.000-07:002009-03-27T21:32:59.945-07:00it's not all in vain...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhntYQQ5odS7MuxKVejBYBwkpKyxCpmATxWQ6VEJv5gvPeF7PdMMM6rnhcyrM1uIKXdHvAWTOn4J7zqSG5eEyYh-LSURnS7gfHLectyZ58-i4efxd1iE5j1witkyDrde7Y1Zl00uEmlUMhs/s1600-h/jenna.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhntYQQ5odS7MuxKVejBYBwkpKyxCpmATxWQ6VEJv5gvPeF7PdMMM6rnhcyrM1uIKXdHvAWTOn4J7zqSG5eEyYh-LSURnS7gfHLectyZ58-i4efxd1iE5j1witkyDrde7Y1Zl00uEmlUMhs/s320/jenna.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318091543562233746" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:Calibri;"> <span style="font-family: arial;">i got permission from a friend to post this poem - written by a grandfather who's beautiful three-year-old granddaughter drowned a year ago (sumijoti.wordpress.com). it touched my heart. i KNOW it will touch yours. please keep this precious family in your prayers.</span><br /><br /><em><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />A year has passed, a year of pain</em></span> <p dir="ltr"><span lang="en-us"><em> <span style="font-family:Calibri;">Is it all in vain?</span></em></span></p> <p dir="ltr"><span lang="en-us"><em> <span style="font-family:Calibri;">Jenna’s limp and lifeless body on my lap</span></em></span></p> <p dir="ltr"><span lang="en-us"><em> <span style="font-family:Calibri;">I kissed her forehead and gave her back.</span></em></span></p> <p dir="ltr"><span lang="en-us"><em> <span style="font-family:Calibri;">Jesus, why allow this to be?</span></em></span></p> <p dir="ltr"><span lang="en-us"><em> <span style="font-family:Calibri;">Tonight he revealed this to me:</span></em></span></p> <p dir="ltr"><span lang="en-us"><em> <span style="font-family:Calibri;">“The pain you feel is what you share of</span></em></span></p> <p dir="ltr"><span lang="en-us"><em> <span style="font-family:Calibri;">My life I gave for you and her.”</span></em></span></p> <p dir="ltr"><span lang="en-us"><em> <span style="font-family:Calibri;">Lord, let it be.</span></em></span></p> <p dir="ltr"><span lang="en-us"><em> <span style="font-family:Calibri;">I am content in Thee.</span></em></span></p> <p dir="ltr"><span lang="en-us"><em> </em></span></p> <p dir="ltr"><span lang="en-us"><em> <span style="font-family:Calibri;">Leon 23 March 2009. 00h25</span></em></span></p>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-31801631670773870652009-03-23T20:48:00.000-07:002009-03-25T19:26:32.842-07:00not one minute to spare.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggfLrULAhC551_-7IJTQ6-U3xlnwWAH4ejGibd6VbvniLzIAQgysM3eiG6qgi4-FAuDooZVOT7FKlcmPqAxMVs5RysjO5iURDKilbX1ymiPHINcsvTQl9eeFBEMFH3pxnfrIHwAyNk7u6s/s1600-h/talking.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggfLrULAhC551_-7IJTQ6-U3xlnwWAH4ejGibd6VbvniLzIAQgysM3eiG6qgi4-FAuDooZVOT7FKlcmPqAxMVs5RysjO5iURDKilbX1ymiPHINcsvTQl9eeFBEMFH3pxnfrIHwAyNk7u6s/s320/talking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316599452720071522" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">and then....the horrible plane crash in montana. a man and woman lost 2 of their 3 daughters, 2 son-in-laws and 5 grandchildren. i can't imagine.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />natasha richardson.....a freak ski accident. natasha richardson's sons and husband never imagined that she would snap on her skis to play on the slopes, admitting that she hated skiing but did it to be with family, and by the end of the day her voice would be silenced.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">in a minute things that are so right can go so wrong. we should not take one minute for granted.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">our grown son says he is having a hard time remembering his grandfather's voice. our son was 6 when his grandfather died. he didn't have a lot of years to mentally record that soft, gentle voice. it saddens me when family or friends are estranged. for if you don't spend the time that you have HEARING the voices of your family members, you will quickly forget what they sound like when they are gone.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">maybe that is what our relationship should look like with God. if we don't spend time with Him - as much time as we can - we will begin to forget what He 'sounds' like and there will come a time when we will no longer "hear' His voice. and we will have a hard time remembering His voice.<br /></span>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-78779478583046619902009-03-23T15:10:00.001-07:002009-03-23T15:49:29.942-07:00fleeting....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGyKxUtzJnPoAwG2ZqhHddDm7hMG-i6eQWKX1w1S718x7Ckw7lj88Iq8QRHwkBd2mTZ_fhaq9GxUGGgqltd4vMAoi5iTvYVZF4Ux0Po71lCoWm51uD7phM6hl0CzI00JwGXMwYkeRdgqJz/s1600-h/babygirl.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGyKxUtzJnPoAwG2ZqhHddDm7hMG-i6eQWKX1w1S718x7Ckw7lj88Iq8QRHwkBd2mTZ_fhaq9GxUGGgqltd4vMAoi5iTvYVZF4Ux0Po71lCoWm51uD7phM6hl0CzI00JwGXMwYkeRdgqJz/s320/babygirl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316519015522077810" border="0" /></a><br />does a mother's heart ever stop hurting for her children? it seems not. i am thinking so much of alyssa these days. it seems that so many of her friends who have experienced the loss of a baby are pregnant and happily, if not a little fearfully, looking forward to welcoming a new addition to their families. they have had showers and decorated nurseries and ordered birth announcements - grateful that these pregnancies have gone forth without a hitch - without a negative test result or the devastating, unsuspecting words from their doctors that something is terribly wrong. they have held their breath and then gradually allowed themselves to hope and believe and embrace that which was so fleeting a year or two years or perhaps several months ago.<br /><br />for alyssa it will be so different. there will be no ultrasound or doctor's appointment after which she will breathe a sigh of relief. for all of her doctor's visits were normal. every examination, every 3-D picture indicated a healthy, beautiful baby who was growing and thriving right on schedule, nestled safely within her womb. even up until the last night when alyssa handed out invitations to her baby shower at her bible study, sydney was active and kicking - a healthy 8 month fetus. the doctors examination and ultrasound of only 48 hours earlier detected no problems - only a beautiful baby who looked just like her big brother.<br /><br />so, if she is fortunate enough to become pregnant again, she will be as guarded and as anxious as all of her friends have been. but i think it will be hard for her to consider names or wall hangings or baby clothes - or perhaps even showers given by well-meaning friends. because even when things seem to be going absolutely right, things can go so very wrong so very quickly.<br /><br />i don't know how she will do it. but if God gives her the chance, i know she will try. because her hope is not based on what she so desperately desires but on what He desires for her.Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-4718321547996963432009-03-09T14:21:00.000-07:002009-03-09T14:22:22.908-07:00but i am.....fearfully and wonderfully made. the times i don't feel like i am, i KNOW i am :)Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-90175538202075942802009-03-08T12:41:00.000-07:002009-03-08T12:44:13.767-07:00i am this amputee.....Letting go of adult children is hard yet necessary part of life<br />by CLARE MARIE CELANO<br /><br />While struggling to craft a phrase that would accurately depict my relationship with my grown children, WI found what was searching for in lines delivered via my TV screen. Messages often come from the most unlikely venues. The lines were spoken by Sarah Jessica Parker in her role as "Carrie" on "Sex in the City." Carrie is trying to describe how she feels about her friend Samantha, who was recently diagnosed with breast cancer, to her lover "Aleksandr" (aka Mikhail Baryshnikov), but Aleksandr is not getting it. Finally, she looks directly at him and with raw emotion, says, "She's my insides. That's how important she is to me." Her response is untamed, visceral and absolute.<br /><br />"That's it," I thought. "My kids are my insides." My heart melted and I recalled how it felt when they literally were my insides, growing within me, their presence, no less significant than every other cell in my body. Like a soothing balm, I remembered the comfort of knowing their little bodies were safely and cozily tucked inside me - all the time. Many years have passed since I've felt that "literal" comfort, and still my kids remain my "insides."<br /><br />It's hard for my children to grasp this concept - that they are still an integral part of my being. In their heads, they are fully grown and no longer require tending to. And logically this is essentially true. They don't need watching. But parenting is never logical. It is an emotionally driven experience that does not often respond well to pragmatism. So, if my kids are my insides, then it stands to reason that they are entwined within the cells of my mind, the emotions of my heart, and the longing of my soul - even if they have left their first "home," so to speak. This connection, while relatively easy to nurture and foster when kids are young and a part of our 24/7, becomes more difficult as they grow. Much like a marriage, the bonding between two souls flourishes when they are in close proximity but can easily wane and falter when faced with long absences. It's at this point that we need diplomacy, moxie and finesse to keep the strands of that bond sliding alongside one another in sync.<br /><br />As our kids become adults, I think we go through a kind of inner power struggle between the control we once had and the lack of it now. With that control, however, came the responsibility to meet all their physical, emotional and spiritual needs. It's tough to accept that we're no longer responsible for those needs. But how could it be otherwise? Their needs and the power of our touch linked us to one another for years. Watching our kids grow away from us is like losing an appendage. Feeling the loss of control we once had, we search for some steady ground to plant ourselves on until the chaotic dust settles and we can let go of it all. We know intellectually we're no longer responsible for the events that happen in our kids' lives. But, just like an amputee, who knows his or her appendage is no longer there but feels the pain of the limb anyhow, as parents, we can't seem to let go of the desire to want to do it all. We have a hard time letting go of our kids. When discussing this subject with a friend, he shined a light on what my heart was feeling, but my head could not seem to put into words. "You're not letting go of the child," he said, "you're letting go of the responsibility and guilt. "We make deals," he continued. "We bargain. We ask to take on any pain ourselves, rather than have our kids take it." He's right, of course.<br /><br />We bargain with God, fate, or whatever forces we feel are responsible for giving our children anything less than complete happiness. And then, after years of attempts at deal-making, it dawns on us that we cannot alter the course of our children's lives, and even if we could, we can't win this hand on the table - it's not our hand. It's theirs. It belongs to the children. I think it take a few decades as an adult to be able to see this.<br /><br />Eventually though, we discover the emotional acceptance of a situation we can do nothing about, and this shift keeps us sane. This acceptance relieves the phantom pain - somewhat. I still feel their emotional pain, but rather than spend hours on end trying to figure out how to take that pain away, I use my time more judiciously, praying they'll figure out the root of it and learn to ease it themselves. I still feel their fear, as much as ever, but rather than struggle with the "why" of their fears, I pray they'll eventually learn to confront whatever goes bump in their nights, just as I've had to do.<br /><br />Letting go of certain facets of our lives, although difficult, is like completing a chapter in a book. Moving along life's pages is our gift. If we get stuck ruminating in one chapter, no matter how incredible it is, we break the rhythm of the rest of the story.Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-25041952394555211512009-03-08T11:29:00.000-07:002009-03-08T11:30:12.090-07:00i'm going to be honest here........i don't feel fearfully and wonderfully made.Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-41112802476821174742009-03-08T10:14:00.001-07:002009-03-08T10:14:27.491-07:00poem by michael manes<h1><a href="http://www.michaelmanes.com/?p=326" rel="bookmark" title="Permanent Link to Ceramic Mug">Ceramic Mug</a></h1> <small>01.28.2009 <!-- ------------- TIME COMMENT OUT -------------------- at 18:22 hrs ------------- TIME COMMENT OUT -------------------- --> </small> <div class="entry"><p>fresh masking tape<br />on blue wet paint<br />falling to the floor<br />and I do not think<br />I can hold together<br />anymore </p> </div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-32876712963049915502009-03-08T10:12:00.000-07:002009-03-08T10:13:05.691-07:00poem by michael manes<h1><a href="http://www.michaelmanes.com/?p=317" rel="bookmark" title="Permanent Link to S i x">S i x</a></h1> <small>01.01.2009 <!-- ------------- TIME COMMENT OUT -------------------- at 22:17 hrs ------------- TIME COMMENT OUT -------------------- --> </small> <div class="entry"><p>O God of strength<br />my God of weight<br />have mercy<br />on me<br />i’m about to break<br />and bear lightly<br />upon my soul<br />for just a little<br />is far too great<br />mercy, O, God of love<br />have mercy<br />on me </p> </div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-30875085947279478042009-03-08T08:48:00.000-07:002009-03-08T09:29:06.532-07:00i miss them....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaNp6rp1qk1k88G4YzYzDhVuvPUPrBbv9gzxp2SvxtfV9q1rtJXOmK_d9ZCzwzDtQDv12num2aKBJpztjhgoNXdwbH5SND-RJtmI9ldh9mtmTSGoAeinDMPkIpwcTkarW3zVYTTAJGWjI-/s1600-h/letting+balloons+go+for+sydney.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaNp6rp1qk1k88G4YzYzDhVuvPUPrBbv9gzxp2SvxtfV9q1rtJXOmK_d9ZCzwzDtQDv12num2aKBJpztjhgoNXdwbH5SND-RJtmI9ldh9mtmTSGoAeinDMPkIpwcTkarW3zVYTTAJGWjI-/s320/letting+balloons+go+for+sydney.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310854209519557890" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXRRcdUWnA8oqrzfJaOtpAcR3i8jCjKlZoyT6c_IQzsf6FbGnNqXo5Ug5OiRAXEED-vRDA5qv5_6JAPS6az3ZP1TcZ72E0ts3YeQnvRc1UUVdfWYVHASa2h1fj2Z6LTtyBDf6zBYDulkkm/s1600-h/easter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXRRcdUWnA8oqrzfJaOtpAcR3i8jCjKlZoyT6c_IQzsf6FbGnNqXo5Ug5OiRAXEED-vRDA5qv5_6JAPS6az3ZP1TcZ72E0ts3YeQnvRc1UUVdfWYVHASa2h1fj2Z6LTtyBDf6zBYDulkkm/s320/easter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310853913355755938" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDqZQXJpydy03IiPBhP3SupwiwXkKGcNVC26WkW8IhYjICTu6D_Afw8h0m3ESLtTeHI_0Y9aP2kexyyDjSlfunC2vhigIQDHWWEriqAJ3Iqpp68ndPaaQmzX-LQxuBk4jxNnxzLjh4pLCW/s1600-h/bumblebees+08.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDqZQXJpydy03IiPBhP3SupwiwXkKGcNVC26WkW8IhYjICTu6D_Afw8h0m3ESLtTeHI_0Y9aP2kexyyDjSlfunC2vhigIQDHWWEriqAJ3Iqpp68ndPaaQmzX-LQxuBk4jxNnxzLjh4pLCW/s320/bumblebees+08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310853445235033410" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8pQKU2iQGqtLitSNTV8wTGyEkToyax05JmKkFBeO744ammbFZl8vqRw-bNSu_-KOFEchzAEHcrhBNYsmGJgHP20TVKD2tuZnMErXq3ETnOdWJb6S70v4kwNnSROtVwiBqIsiLABxJSzRx/s1600-h/ellaiden+with+chip+clips.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8pQKU2iQGqtLitSNTV8wTGyEkToyax05JmKkFBeO744ammbFZl8vqRw-bNSu_-KOFEchzAEHcrhBNYsmGJgHP20TVKD2tuZnMErXq3ETnOdWJb6S70v4kwNnSROtVwiBqIsiLABxJSzRx/s320/ellaiden+with+chip+clips.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310853171012948018" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQdoDJsDba1QOvTXytBS9LYNldSylbTyYuOF6hF4vwJhRF8iR627cGeamnNYKHjs7fIsKuWU-ns4g_Aix3eP2BkWHTGeuUNICWH7jLX8v1ivhngyHrFsKRLdv1UL1TcvNE74gfsLUUKjfc/s1600-h/liam+and+mom.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQdoDJsDba1QOvTXytBS9LYNldSylbTyYuOF6hF4vwJhRF8iR627cGeamnNYKHjs7fIsKuWU-ns4g_Aix3eP2BkWHTGeuUNICWH7jLX8v1ivhngyHrFsKRLdv1UL1TcvNE74gfsLUUKjfc/s320/liam+and+mom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310844552291896818" border="0" /></a>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-42927723827502094442009-01-19T12:13:00.000-08:002009-01-19T13:00:42.509-08:00HE writes the songs.....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2QFz9JJMse7fNhNwCcO4XeU7fNOh9aHRxKFUtffeonFPJG4f9Re9WOTSe0NynH9Thq_KZt-UOWeJjS7UngccLronP35qaCZzUMEwSwCZZy761JE5swiLt3nBAK6upt5UKIN5zepsC1lL/s1600-h/music.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293112207103514082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2QFz9JJMse7fNhNwCcO4XeU7fNOh9aHRxKFUtffeonFPJG4f9Re9WOTSe0NynH9Thq_KZt-UOWeJjS7UngccLronP35qaCZzUMEwSwCZZy761JE5swiLt3nBAK6upt5UKIN5zepsC1lL/s320/music.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">so, if you look at alyssa's blog (and who reads mine that doesn't read hers as well:)) you will see that her community of friends has been blessed with a new arrival. if only for a short time, this baby will bless rachel and her family as well as their extended church family.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">the first thoughts that came to mind when alyssa shared this news with me were wonder, amazement, faithfulness. alyssa writes much more eloquently from a spiritual standpoint than i ever could. and i know that God has used her and her words to help others. it has been and continues to be a long road for her and ian. she emailed me one day and was at a very low point; she realized that all 5 of the women with whom she has developed a relationship with through internet blogs - women who have all lost babies in the last year and a half - are pregnant. while she harbors not one ounce of resentment, bitterness or jealousy, she still doesn't understand why she still waits. you might think it silly to call an internet friend a 'relational' friend but these young, christian women have bonded in ways that you and i could never understand. having never physically met, they have cried together, laughed together and appreciated the depths of feelings that comes from such loss. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">i had begun to read several of their blogs months before alyssa's loss; i found one through a friend and that one led to another and that one to another. i had absolutely no idea that some day, alyssa would have the same experience and under no circumstances would i ever have guessed that she would become friends with these women because of my urging her to read their blogs. as i read their blogs now, it is apparent that the losses they've experienced are still raw but the tone of their blogs is happier, more hopeful and less "dark". i so want that for alyssa. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">but as is alyssa's way, she picks herself up and keeps on - obedient, faithful and hopeful. the miscarriage she experienced in november was unexpected - she had never had a miscarriage. even more difficult to accept was the fact that her 2 best friends also experienced miscarriages the same month. it seemed that the three girls who walked together, prayed together, had playdates together and went to church together would go through miscarriage - together. in some way it was comforting to be going through yet another loss - not alone.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">when matt came unexpectedly into rachel and stefan's lives, it was obvious that they would welcome help in the way of prayer support, babysitting and just general emotional support. accepting guardianship of a terminally ill baby requires a compassionate, merciful heart, to say nothing of time and energy. and rachel has 2 older children who are around 3 and 5 years old. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">God certainly orchestrates our lives in ways we could never imagine or predict. He is the conductor and we are called to play the tune HE chooses under HIS circumstances. I know the hearts of my daughter and Amy and am coming to know Rachel's heart. I view these three young women - whose wombs held the promise of 3 sweet lives for just a few weeks but are now empty - as God's hands and feet and hearts to take care of 'the least of these'. together they grieved the loss of their pregnancies not imagining how God would fill their lives with something even more amazing just a few weeks later. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">i can see amy the photographer bustling over matt to get just the right picture for keepsake albums; i can see alyssa the creative decorator making sure that he has precious little boy bedding and a hand-made frame with his new born picture it to place amonth the family photos. i can see rachel rocking matt at night and talking to her children about the plan Jesus had for Matt all along. i can see all three at lunch while the children play outside, hovering over Matt, showing him Christ's unconditional love and blessing his short time here in their midst.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">man, we can't ever figure out God, can we? we can study and pray and learn more and more about His nature and we can continue to ask questions that have no answers. and then He surprises us with a song so unique and original that it silences us. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">no, not a song...a symphony!</span></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-68519123274355956442009-01-09T18:59:00.000-08:002009-01-09T19:06:00.060-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmdKUgSHOQl43eg4g-HdQz8aO82NsNurc1qVsn2DTbfneV6683vnt-rtPzrVptflKStyBR4Guaa_IQotsqQltTKQwWcNHWaEdLP5FAcJZm7e-8fyhhtLp5iG1kBmVL4gE32E2FzCcII5P/s1600-h/timeout.bmp"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289495908397279634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmdKUgSHOQl43eg4g-HdQz8aO82NsNurc1qVsn2DTbfneV6683vnt-rtPzrVptflKStyBR4Guaa_IQotsqQltTKQwWcNHWaEdLP5FAcJZm7e-8fyhhtLp5iG1kBmVL4gE32E2FzCcII5P/s320/timeout.bmp" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">i'm going to post something soon. really.</span></div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-78019093080566988342008-12-14T06:04:00.001-08:002008-12-14T06:06:35.446-08:00..........<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPZKr0i23e9TdfgmOodHbK6H1hantrJS9hOc3Bwja2vxP7xol8Wy9wZBnoBgLmGMLcVyBLFY3J2d4YWMzdYsADcSiR-5BGxMr9bZ9-Oz1mHQ_KTDUyFMbUDnZI8KApd1UW-isfV8nu3CU/s1600-h/sydney1.jpg"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279646809430287074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPZKr0i23e9TdfgmOodHbK6H1hantrJS9hOc3Bwja2vxP7xol8Wy9wZBnoBgLmGMLcVyBLFY3J2d4YWMzdYsADcSiR-5BGxMr9bZ9-Oz1mHQ_KTDUyFMbUDnZI8KApd1UW-isfV8nu3CU/s320/sydney1.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family:arial;">i cried for sydney grace today......</span></div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-20922559007171374132008-12-02T20:35:00.001-08:002008-12-02T20:43:00.866-08:00"losing your life" (from the o'brien family)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbokwYwSRT1ZQZf7vHY5hcV_eRMgrOh0OyvnEfxFkQfSS5ELHnNpX_aKvzDRDbjYDKaGu50luvwLf_O74VzXPuj58INBvMsamZcCp-i_9pAGPbEipOuJDEG3Wshuphfz5yvLRUX6NvPN9B/s1600-h/freedom.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275419490103818322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbokwYwSRT1ZQZf7vHY5hcV_eRMgrOh0OyvnEfxFkQfSS5ELHnNpX_aKvzDRDbjYDKaGu50luvwLf_O74VzXPuj58INBvMsamZcCp-i_9pAGPbEipOuJDEG3Wshuphfz5yvLRUX6NvPN9B/s320/freedom.bmp" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:arial;">read these words of a woman who lost a newbornbaby last year. she counseled ANOTHER grieving mother: "Your son has given you an incredible gift," I told this grieving mom. "He has given you the gift of being forced to reconsider the very purpose of your life. Those who are sailing through a comfortable life at this point have not yet been forced to carefully consider their lives and surrender their dreams. But because you have been shaken to the core, you see clearly that if you cling to your own plans and desires, you will never discover freedom and joy found in losing your life for Jesus."</span><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">now go to her blog and read the november 14th post. it is uplifting!</span></div><br /><div></div><div><a href="http://obrienfamily2008.blogspot.com/">http://obrienfamily2008.blogspot.com/</a></div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-75931002697437989262008-12-01T16:47:00.000-08:002008-12-01T16:53:46.053-08:00testing 1.2.3.....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcLiGkdXMDKzvO2ztSCM50ytLlnxL2Xo2VEg44ZMHk8P-u667qlQWINdpvEEmBWFtzh4Kd7JTaQU3gHk3ZPOLwRSG-P0XP4DWHn6EtVJsByOjTU8r8sXWfBpDZE_tWClVgmzgaZg_cApl/s1600-h/window.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274988835176806706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 246px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcLiGkdXMDKzvO2ztSCM50ytLlnxL2Xo2VEg44ZMHk8P-u667qlQWINdpvEEmBWFtzh4Kd7JTaQU3gHk3ZPOLwRSG-P0XP4DWHn6EtVJsByOjTU8r8sXWfBpDZE_tWClVgmzgaZg_cApl/s320/window.bmp" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">hope in Him. not in circumstances.............. </span><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">hope differently.............................................</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">hope </span><span style="font-family:arial;">differently.............................................</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-75871945629170955732008-12-01T05:26:00.001-08:002008-12-01T06:12:41.059-08:00hope differently.....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAUDiLqfLtk7M616JikzJzawPN3c0gB3Vwb5j-iYH44PsWd47GsUyCShcv4QvOTSFagbeS0Kqw2Ow9lEz42tg1xu19HKzVMBXZ9IjPoNQVgOV5P72rn0EF5Z5uUsIOLxj4cTAlMoQgHWQ1/s1600-h/hope.bmp"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274823989748825554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 305px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAUDiLqfLtk7M616JikzJzawPN3c0gB3Vwb5j-iYH44PsWd47GsUyCShcv4QvOTSFagbeS0Kqw2Ow9lEz42tg1xu19HKzVMBXZ9IjPoNQVgOV5P72rn0EF5Z5uUsIOLxj4cTAlMoQgHWQ1/s320/hope.bmp" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> </span><span style="font-family:arial;">kind of ironic. but not so. my turn to teach yesterday. the lesson was about....hope. hmm....</span><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">so the angel comes to mary and tells her she is pregnant with the messiah. we talked about engagements and weddings. all the planning and scheduling. the jewish traditions in biblical times. i even brought my engagement notice that was in the local newspaper 37 years ago - complete with 70's poofy hair-flip. we all agreed that mary's life took an unexpected turn. was she giddy with excitement - jumping for joy? did people come up and high-five her and slap her on the back and say "so, YOU'RE the one pregnant with the messiah? way to go, mary!". hardly. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">and what was mary's response? "i'm your servant, Lord." </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">even though mary's plans changed drastically - even though everything about her life and the direction it was going to take was completely out of her control - her response was "i'm your servant, Lord". basically, the lesson was about mary exchanging her hopes and expectations for hope in HIM. i asked the students if they had had disappointing christmases - christmases when their hopes and expectations were not met. i expected and got a couple of typical responses. "i ran downstairs and saw a bicycle and was so excited until i was told it wasn't for me but for my sister" or "i desperately wanted a motorized pink barbie car but my mom told me it wouldn't fit down the chimney. then i went outside and the little girl who lived next door had a barbie car that fit down HER chimney!" </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">but the first response came from a young lady who, in a strong voice, told us that one christmas a few years back she found out on christmas day that her father, who lived in another state, had died 2 days before. her mother had kept it from her and her sister but when they begged to call him after opening presents, their mom broke the news to them. talk about unmet expectations.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">i thought about some of my own 'barbie cars" and "bicycles". my hopes had always been that our adult children would live in the same town and grandchildren would have weekly sleepovers at our house and go to the same church and can you say "goodnight, johnboy"? my expectations recently had been that my adult children would continue to be interested in any little jewel of conversation i would toss out, that they would desperately covet the opportunity to view MY travel pictures, and that they would continue to revel in late-night talks about sports, politics and just life in general. after keeping our one and two-year-old granddaughters during this thanksgiving i came to the sudden realization that THEIR focus could not/should not be ME! imagine! they are tired, but happy, and parenting and working requires all the energy and attention that they can muster 24/7. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">so, as the lesson progressed and i glanced at the clock to make sure we finshed up in a timely manner, i casually called attention to the calendar date and the fact that it was the one year anniversary of.......</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">the students sat silently, waiting, curious as my voice shook and my eyes watered. not planned. totally caught off-guard. this new group of students WAS not aware of the last year's struggles and, while i didn't want to belabor our own situation, i thought it was relevant enough to touch on. i told the story briefly and then, with a passion i have never recognized, i pounded my fist on the podium and in a strong voice asked the students if they were ready to "exchange" any hope they had in their life for hope in HIM. exchanging hope for a desired christmas present paled in comparison to exchanging hope for healing cancer in a parent, hope for a call from an estranged father or even hope for an uneventful pregnancy, a safe delivery and a healthy baby. hope in something/Someone BIGGER rather than hope in their circumstances.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">the curriculum itself spelled out the main points. pertinent scripture was assigned and read by willing students. i researched and contributed relevant information about biblical jewish customs and traditions. and i was in awe throughout the sunday school hour that God knew that i would be teaching this lesson on this particular sunday even after a tiring week with babies and a melancholy goodbye early that very morning as my son and his family backed out of the driveway and headed home.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">i had so hoped to be with alyssa on this particular day. but it didn't work out that way. God.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">after the sunday school hour, in "big church" as i knealt at the altar as close to the LOUD, powerful worship music as i could get and prayed for alyssa and the students in my class i got it. i taught it and i got it. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">exchange your hopes for hopes in Him. hope differently.</span> </div><br /><div></div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-72121072671584014542008-10-23T19:38:00.000-07:002009-03-06T19:01:38.058-08:00some things change....a repeat post....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0xWF2P9hsGIYLc9xYgV7DlUuEqMOJC2XHX3deWQlUWJP1L26l74SY-3i2zmXkOq6Od6twmwtpSNkuBuB1_pdRsk9CWrqvrzJwyuSrqr-9NAx3CzpSJets7_Z-kDt-3zZkjDBD84FVtjG/s1600-h/mother+daughter+statue.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260556083484713202" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 240px; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0xWF2P9hsGIYLc9xYgV7DlUuEqMOJC2XHX3deWQlUWJP1L26l74SY-3i2zmXkOq6Od6twmwtpSNkuBuB1_pdRsk9CWrqvrzJwyuSrqr-9NAx3CzpSJets7_Z-kDt-3zZkjDBD84FVtjG/s320/mother+daughter+statue.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">i haven't written in a while. it's been hard. i've come to my blog often in the last month. i think about things i want to say and then just put it away for another day. i don't know how to put it all into words. i read other blogs; not as often as before. just an occasional check-in. lives are changing. good things and not so good things. life goes on. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">one thing i notice is that most of the comments on these blogs are from friends - not grandmothers or mother-in-laws or mothers. i wonder if these family members share their thoughts and offer encouragement through emails or chatty phone calls. i wonder if they are successful in being a rock - a constant source of strength - for their son or daughter or grandchild who is wading through a crisis. or do they find themselves speechless. silently prayerful but lacking words to offer?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">our church is doing a program called "40 days of prayer". my "fast" during this time is from the radio in my car. it is amazing that the minute i get in the car to go to work or climb in the car to come home after work the first thing i do is reach for the radio power button. i've been driving in silence. and i begin to pray. i pray for friends and friends of friends but my thoughts always wander back to my daughter. it is a sad confession on my part that i believe the radio and television and internet has protected me from dwelling on her situation and from thinking about her as often as i might. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">the doctors say it is okay for them to try again. he says the outcome might be the same as it was with sydney grace. he "says" he can take care of her but they must be prepared for the possibility of another abruption and loss. i can't allow myself to think about what might be so i try not to think at all. i worry about her health and safety - i worry about that GREATLY. i worry about her mental state if she looses another baby. and i find that when these thoughts enter my mind, i just try so very hard to block them out.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">i read her blog and love the life she has with her friends and church family. she is truly blessed. liam has a world full of close little friends with whom he shares birthdays, holidays, traditions and happy times. so i can't quite understand why it makes me a little sad unless it is that i miss her and him and being able to share those things and that life. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">as our pastor preaches about prayer he reminds us that we are to pray TO the Father, IN the name of His Son, and with the GUIDANCE of the Holy Spirit. i am trying to understand why we aren't to view God as a prosperity Father - one who simply gives us what we ask for even though He says to ask and he will give. i don't want to pray in MY name for what I want - our pastor says we often do just that. if i were to do that this is what MY prayer would look like:</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">please let my daughter get pregnant again and have an uneventful pregnancy. i might even ask that she NOT have gestational diabetes and NOT have gestational hypertension and NOT have an abruption. i would ask for an easy delivery and a healthy baby. (i might even ask for a girl although sydney grace was the first girl in the byrd family in 60 years- is that really correct?). </span><span style="font-family:arial;">oh, and while you're at it, make their financial situation stress-free and stable as well. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">so, in praying for those things, i am praying for what I WANT and in MY name. it is SO hard for me to pray for God's will to be done. because i can't understand why His will should be so different than mine. after all, the things I WANT for her aren't bad things, right? when our kids were driving back and forth from college i prayed mightily for their safety while on the highway. and lo and behold! they ALWAYS made it safely home! just because of my prayers! wow, certainly was making myself BIGGER than God, wasn't I? naive of me. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">so i still struggle with prayer - and while i know God is always in our presence and that through prayer he wants us to be in HIS presence - i still have a hard time understanding prayer. why do i feel LESS protected? as i leave for bulgaria for 10 days, i am more fearful. my husband said at the prayer hour this morning the men were to pray for their wives. he emailed me today from work and said "so your trip is covered." sweet BUT....only if it is God's will.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">the year anniversary is approaching for her. i know it will be difficult. i KNOW it will. it is so strange that as her mother, it is as if i am waiting for that phone call again. the call that a baby will be here shortly. then barely an hour later the call that shattered their lives. remembering those dark, bleak days, i am praying that God miraculously gives them peace and calm as november 30th approaches. i am anticipating it and praying for her and i wish i could be with her and i wish i had the words and the knowledge and the right thing to say - i wish i could carve pumpkins with her and liam and do all those things that make life seem normal - hours full of laughter and joking - things that make you forget for just a few minutes. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">as i read emily's blog and rachel's blog and angie's blog and sumi's blog and all the others i am aware that it is their friends who have the right words and the special comments that are so so helpful to these young women who are struggling - these women who, themselves, have such a positive outlook in the midst of their struggles. a friend of mine told me that i just have to consider that they are speaking FOR me - at a time when i don't have the words. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">i don't know the relationship these women have with their mothers. i don't know if theirs is an in-and-out-of-town relationship like ours or if there is a constant - an every day connection that is a source of comfort and strength. i guess i just have to realize that God knows my heart and the Holy Spirit is evidenced in the tears that spill down my face on the altar on sunday mornings and that is all i can offer. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">i wish it was more.</span></div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-83825197156844440922008-08-21T19:42:00.000-07:002008-08-21T19:52:09.792-07:00thinking of her always.....<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguashZwMk4TcUxYVLtotLz_PVIKudlJ6kPppAI6JKud9Gr0zCTPZRrq5EtT4Qda3JD_xfhfn0FghNpQGbJFIU4-dnwjKzgWIDhdLeJ8vGu368uboVCf72__qPpzKXav5HU2dlLf5C4KuVW/s1600-h/baby+angel.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237168183720697186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguashZwMk4TcUxYVLtotLz_PVIKudlJ6kPppAI6JKud9Gr0zCTPZRrq5EtT4Qda3JD_xfhfn0FghNpQGbJFIU4-dnwjKzgWIDhdLeJ8vGu368uboVCf72__qPpzKXav5HU2dlLf5C4KuVW/s320/baby+angel.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Little One, Hold My Hand<br /> for Sydney Grace</span></div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Little one, hold my hand.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Show me all the wonders that you see;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Help me feel His loving touch,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Lead me gently to His feet;<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Little one, hold my hand,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Guide me as I seek to learn</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">How to do what He wants of me;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Be my sweet angel leading me. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Little one, hold my hand,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Come at night and whisper in my ear</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Of the glorious things that you now know,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Safely resting in His arms..<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Little one, hold my hand.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Sit beside me as I weep;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Dry my tears with gentle breath,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A breeze that softly touches cheek.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Little one, hold my hand,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Angel fingers entwined in mine;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Pull me gently closer still</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">To live in Him in every hour.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Little one, hold my hand,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He will help you teach me how</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">To be a better person now,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Change me with His love you bring.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Little one, hold my hand,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I need to feel your presence here;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'll try not to hold too tight,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">For I know I'm not the only one.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Little one, hold my hand,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Snuggle with me in my dreams</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And sing a joyful song to me;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'll listen and i'll sing with you.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Little one, hold my hand,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Until the day when I come home</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And then we'll dance and never tire</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And play at Jesus feet again.</span><br /></div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-31118411509549669102008-08-16T07:28:00.001-07:002008-08-16T07:32:21.347-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh09aOvq5UYan15nuon4jqHKN1TNMBLOpE_xtcAMq3tGYYxadTWG41Ai85TDjcKAwDRKkskiWWMfTW4cDnNtWqwkLf0bIcGmtDb-3BGa7I-1CADTQLrAbGieF6_5uBeVwRFcA4HaXu3N1Ov/s1600-h/martinitsa.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235123091278185938" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh09aOvq5UYan15nuon4jqHKN1TNMBLOpE_xtcAMq3tGYYxadTWG41Ai85TDjcKAwDRKkskiWWMfTW4cDnNtWqwkLf0bIcGmtDb-3BGa7I-1CADTQLrAbGieF6_5uBeVwRFcA4HaXu3N1Ov/s320/martinitsa.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">going to bulgaria in october. it can't come soon enough!</span></div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-42515962209521109282008-07-22T21:49:00.000-07:002008-07-22T21:56:16.904-07:00loopiness......<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226068696417560370" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9a-UHnTrBfK3yt9MMOxRDh-t3mLiOrNO-WPsPabalCP1U-awOuqgWR3D_54fsKi8d_RK8YFplEpp5afQ7QCi9xLyQ5jcQZ9xnvE71398msgeG4rfbldWNlkVdAipYnI3wACklhFgDbKw1/s320/loops.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">i feel somewhat estranged. disconnected. out of the loop. but the loop isn't mine. is this normal?</span> it is kinda hard. well, not kinda. more than kinda.....Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-64640040431369042142008-06-24T07:14:00.001-07:002008-06-24T07:20:21.890-07:00from the mouths of babes.....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-SGHeCp_UmX35swgtTtT3eim6qTCQp8SXTSgMGPPD7LrLk452egjW1VH8IfMosBvjYjVxuR2ZMNFjJYMc9X3iQTgkLIySmF_Zf2Lbpwxf8UVuNviELZgy3fiNfKgt6Gw1TkhSjR3f7qgk/s1600-h/toilet-new.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215452570701106098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-SGHeCp_UmX35swgtTtT3eim6qTCQp8SXTSgMGPPD7LrLk452egjW1VH8IfMosBvjYjVxuR2ZMNFjJYMc9X3iQTgkLIySmF_Zf2Lbpwxf8UVuNviELZgy3fiNfKgt6Gw1TkhSjR3f7qgk/s320/toilet-new.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://candleatbothends.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">http://candleatbothends.blogspot.com/</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span></div><br /><div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">for a laugh to lighten your spirits, check out this somewhat sometimes delightfully irreverant but always inspiring blogsite. today's entry from the writer's son:</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"i think we are in God's toilet."</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">deep theology that makes sense to me.</span></div></div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-61613217560353862982008-06-23T20:06:00.000-07:002008-06-23T20:38:57.171-07:00my chains are gone...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFrSr8Cdhl_HB2rN_7DtYsqT3JuPhmlq7oEsibCy5ENzsPsg2hodBJA1I81-hxfvO8D9-l_zpvT6PgdzOCXYkYcyuzVuh21NT5q2pi77NYM8LsM97-fVnL3Jgn6iXm6-eQSkUKOtja5eok/s1600-h/beach.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215285791053884850" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFrSr8Cdhl_HB2rN_7DtYsqT3JuPhmlq7oEsibCy5ENzsPsg2hodBJA1I81-hxfvO8D9-l_zpvT6PgdzOCXYkYcyuzVuh21NT5q2pi77NYM8LsM97-fVnL3Jgn6iXm6-eQSkUKOtja5eok/s320/beach.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">where do i start. it is hard to collect my thoughts and convey what took place at our student ministry youth camp. yes, i still work with the youth and joke that they'll have to run me off when i'm in my wheelchair dragging my oxygen tank across the sand. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">lately i've wondered about my effectiveness; even though i'm not the stereotypical fifty-something church lady i don't want to overstay my welcome. i love the energy and the passion of students and have a heart for teaching them how to live Godly lives and honor Him in the choices they make. i also want them to know unconditional love as they sometimes make not so good choices.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">this year i was asked to lead a breakout session by offering "my story" along with several other leaders. the day we were to leave to camp i confessed to our student pastor that i wasn't sure i could do it. i was so confused as to what was expected of me as a leader in telling my current story of pain, confusion, questions and anger. i was convinced just 30 minutes before we left that this camp was to be one of honesty, openness and authenticity. i was told it was important for our students to realize that suffering and questions are not unique to the young - we all face difficulties and pain in all stages of life. and it was necessary for them to hear the truth from the adults that lead them - the truth that includes amazing grace.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">around 60 students were assigned to my group throughout the week. on the first day i was nervous and anxious about how i could possibly get through my story - the story of alyssa and sydney grace. but i prayed and i was given a peace about what i was to say and was assured that my words would be meaningful and would be heard.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">these are the words of the email i sent our student pastor after we returned from camp and best explain what i experienced:</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"i appreciate your encouragement of me on sunday before we left; i never want camp or any student event to be about the leaders but it was apparent that God used each of us to show openness and vulerability and reflect the grace that God gives each of us. amazingly, my story changed each day - not the details but what i was learning and could share. i felt layers being peeled away by God as i shared - it never occurred to me that that would happen. i thought that He would use me to reach the students - and throughout He was reaching me as well. in my last session i told the students that during worship the night before, i realized in the middle of worship that i was worshipping with JOY for the first time since nov 30th. that i had been worshipping every sunday faithfully but through gritted teeth and clinched fists - obedient to God but reluctant because of pain and confusion. the words i was speaking to the students during camp became more than words and it was a healing process for me as well. "</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">one of the leaders who attended my breakout session with students came to me one evening and said she had been angry and frustrated since the death of one of our students last year - a fifteen year old boy who was her son's best friend. she said for months she couldn't open her bible and she couldn't pray. finally a friend of hers laid it on the line: she said "you HAVE to open your bible and READ. and you HAVE to pray. even if you don't feel like it. if you don't do these things you will not hear Him or feel His presence. if you do these things, you will know His presence and He will begin to fill you back up." i shared this with the students because i know it to be true. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">all of our teacher-led breakout sessions were raw and real. i saw more students open up and show vulnerability and honesty than ever before. i heard confession after tearful confession. i saw unconditional love and acceptance from one student to another. i saw and participated in passionate worship like i've never experienced before in the ten years i've been attending youth camp. almost every student said the same thing. our camp speaker did not mince words and was authentic from the first night of camp - no "building up to the last night" - he began camp on the same high note on which he ended camp.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">i shared with alyssa that sydney grace's story had impacted many of the youth in our student ministry. but the most amazing and freeing thing that happened was the way i was released from my own pain by publically and openly sharing my story - harder than blogging but more healing face to face. </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">God truly used me to share Sydney's story with students who suffer through divorce, death and depression. But He knew all along that as my story changed a little each day, He was changing me. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">the song that has become the mantra of this year's camp is the rendition of Amazing Grace that includes the chorus "my chains are gone, i've been set free, my God, my Savior, has ransonmed me...and like a flood His mercy reigns, unending love, amazing grace."</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Amazing. Grace.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6378175145743296296.post-43926122043974489442008-06-12T19:52:00.000-07:002008-06-12T20:20:20.561-07:00a mother's heart....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Bv3sMypTYM0b6kWSpVpdCdmyfpXyJOY9X7mGhMHIM8sUcrRp6VUjW-vsckGLgo6s-vc7IBMBm0f6TNdzAq7QDD1HBHFtdVcdf36KIXXj4z8lPDCUsZ9VU_zTCEPqTniOBDDwdTQ2s5-1/s1600-h/Praying.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211200451201057298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Bv3sMypTYM0b6kWSpVpdCdmyfpXyJOY9X7mGhMHIM8sUcrRp6VUjW-vsckGLgo6s-vc7IBMBm0f6TNdzAq7QDD1HBHFtdVcdf36KIXXj4z8lPDCUsZ9VU_zTCEPqTniOBDDwdTQ2s5-1/s320/Praying.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>alyssa's appointment with another high-risk obstetrician is tomorrow at 9:00am mountain time. this doctor has reviewed all records from her pregnancy, abruption and delivery of liam as well as her records regarding her second abruption and sydney's stillbirth. statistics indicate that after one abruption, chances are high that another abruption will occur; after a second abruption. the chances are even higher.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>alyssa is obviously very anxious; the doctor could recommend that she NOT get pregnant again or she could indicate that it is okay to try again. getting pregnant again would bring with it the almost certain possibility of another abruption and possibly the loss of another baby. in effect, getting the "go ahead" brings with it major decisions and more fears and anxiety. she experienced an emergency situation with liam's delivery and thankfully, he made it. my very uneducated guess is that if she does get pregnant again, she will either be put on bedrest starting the second trimester or even hospitalized as a precaution.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>PLEASE pray for alyssa and ian tomorrow. pray that God would give them a good nights rest tonight and that He would give alyssa a peace about the meeting. pray for the wisdom of this doctor and that she would be clear and concise in her explanation and recommendation. pray for alyssa's anxiety to subside and for her to be able to hear and accept whatever the doctor tells her. please pray that somehow, whatever the news is, that alyssa will know in her heart that He will not abandon her and that He will walk with her wherever the path takes her.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>a mother's heart hurts even when her children are grown and making their own way in life. a mother's heart aches for the pain of an adult child just as much as it did for that precious three-year-old or angst-ridden thirteen-year-old. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>knowing that you are praying for her and her family eases the hurt.</div>Gramhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15233437547768850286noreply@blogger.com5