tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63872208334716957332024-03-19T06:06:38.822-06:00 The Preacher and I These are the stories of the Preacher and I while learning to live in the grace of Jesus. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04456372245000287242noreply@blogger.comBlogger227125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-17932877319716247852021-07-29T12:27:00.004-06:002021-07-29T17:43:41.447-06:00one last blanket<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3O1JyljfV3rkKfBFywADZ7hWLek6k2KZL1Y8oeBdg9WORGlbiQHTtp1Sk2eEu-qzL6J3BM21q_Zf725WpGqGhoWTnmA57G1rB4K1Db_jgRjLoXCdpbP7ZqPfQ59c49NK-mRvTg3UIbGqI/s2048/20210729_105732.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1320" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3O1JyljfV3rkKfBFywADZ7hWLek6k2KZL1Y8oeBdg9WORGlbiQHTtp1Sk2eEu-qzL6J3BM21q_Zf725WpGqGhoWTnmA57G1rB4K1Db_jgRjLoXCdpbP7ZqPfQ59c49NK-mRvTg3UIbGqI/w413-h640/20210729_105732.jpg" width="413" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">This little baby blanket has a story behind it.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">My mother is in a nursing home due to a severe stroke that weakened her legs and her hands. She no longer can stand on her own and her arms and hands won't move as they should. So she has lost the ability to do the things that she enjoyed in the past.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">All my life I remember my mother doing one type of craft or another. She was always sewing, crocheting, embroidering; she even painted a mural on our living room wall. But the one thing she did the most was crocheting. I am sure she had learned this art form from her mother, my grandmother. Through out the years my mother crocheted a blanket for all of us kids and as her family grew she made sure to crochet a blanket for each grandchild and great grandchild, as did my grandmother. Here is a picture of the blankets I have from my mother (second in the pile and bottom) and grandmother (middle). The top blanket is the one that she made for her great grandchild.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOG3XBZpyM7KHGNPh3yhlRquem1ynEKd0_cKDN24kQ0OSjHb6X7DSAHwEY716XbDByDxyO6Zh1r9MhgY4qD6hZBcmYjgCsYRWdibwJ5eJZci1lozzYkXLHNd1_w8eiw1IA9H-leDR_iX7E/s2048/20210729_104948.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1725" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOG3XBZpyM7KHGNPh3yhlRquem1ynEKd0_cKDN24kQ0OSjHb6X7DSAHwEY716XbDByDxyO6Zh1r9MhgY4qD6hZBcmYjgCsYRWdibwJ5eJZci1lozzYkXLHNd1_w8eiw1IA9H-leDR_iX7E/w540-h640/20210729_104948.jpg" width="540" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Fourteen months ago our son and his wife gave birth to my mother's third great grandchild. At that time my mother told me that she wished she had her crocheting hooks and yarns with her. I wasn't sure why she wanted to begin crocheting again, but I thought it couldn't be a bad thing, it could help in her therapy. So I went out and bought her a crochet hook and a couple of skeins of yarn.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Last month I flew out to visit her. This was our first visit since the nursing home had completely opened from being locked down from Covid. One day while I was there she asked me to look in a gift bag that she had tucked behind her bed. In it I found a half completed baby blanket. She told me that she had used one of the skeins of yarn but she just didn't feel like she could finish the blanket due to her hands hurting. She asked me to finish it for her and then give it to her new great grandbaby. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It was important to her because I'm sure, even though she didn't say it, she knew this would be the last blanket that she would ever make for her children. This makes me sad because I know that she is in her last days, but I admire her for trying to make just one more. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgndP_805EVC3_iJkoUF9D48nqzUlTvkrA7dIVeKu6PO7VwMqNpppXJU9m07JxYi_wOUyxdNCR7GNqJl4lwWbKTJlnwxC8VroPIZNbvdHj1YchvCp7Jc5tvf9X3X4fnllOanjjGBU8qgS0R/s2048/20210729_105758.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1238" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgndP_805EVC3_iJkoUF9D48nqzUlTvkrA7dIVeKu6PO7VwMqNpppXJU9m07JxYi_wOUyxdNCR7GNqJl4lwWbKTJlnwxC8VroPIZNbvdHj1YchvCp7Jc5tvf9X3X4fnllOanjjGBU8qgS0R/w386-h640/20210729_105758.jpg" width="386" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><br /><p></p>the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-6523380369760841502021-02-18T14:36:00.001-07:002021-02-18T14:36:43.292-07:00this is what makes for a happy and peaceful life<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLvL4n21qnJaYbx5eC7k-UkRJFazw2KGsdYHDJh3KFxtuCOzeRBzUC8PU0lrplb5q-yFZVUJwZiXKy9g1MEIvBXpYObOcDigD_Sfc9lrezVeoWQnPMvszGhHpjZg3fxTy-DGyiAKC4KT-X/s2048/signal-2021-01-29-152500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLvL4n21qnJaYbx5eC7k-UkRJFazw2KGsdYHDJh3KFxtuCOzeRBzUC8PU0lrplb5q-yFZVUJwZiXKy9g1MEIvBXpYObOcDigD_Sfc9lrezVeoWQnPMvszGhHpjZg3fxTy-DGyiAKC4KT-X/w480-h640/signal-2021-01-29-152500.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsDzvU2AJJSNBAJwUdbPvmNYOuHFbBHciO2x3lisglosrpDdZ51wlPp4E1O8Nnzj3uCsiMIxyQOVVBLkZAeUiQyEL9HEHyM_7CF0AXWqH9JA5uZCt0p2lgKAp9i4iMNbAyZDPMoFH0Cdc/s2048/Don+on+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1770" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsDzvU2AJJSNBAJwUdbPvmNYOuHFbBHciO2x3lisglosrpDdZ51wlPp4E1O8Nnzj3uCsiMIxyQOVVBLkZAeUiQyEL9HEHyM_7CF0AXWqH9JA5uZCt0p2lgKAp9i4iMNbAyZDPMoFH0Cdc/w554-h640/Don+on+beach.jpg" width="554" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqC6Q8H9VlHtSQGkkvz4cqA3NbqxyCDIKXfkc8GFLRvBKclEm-DfvJrwUgMlqsM11jZHOCnxe1hAxt12L_bgOBbqtNZ0bW_EghQd7o4P_WeEYnRYTqrOulXP5oA3FpAcQUYOYpSIjfJhLP/s2048/birds+at+ocean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1997" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqC6Q8H9VlHtSQGkkvz4cqA3NbqxyCDIKXfkc8GFLRvBKclEm-DfvJrwUgMlqsM11jZHOCnxe1hAxt12L_bgOBbqtNZ0bW_EghQd7o4P_WeEYnRYTqrOulXP5oA3FpAcQUYOYpSIjfJhLP/w624-h640/birds+at+ocean.jpg" width="624" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyx3Zy_NVsWV3jRI_jVI6U7y1CSz3aVxhxElMGSZYYrtQ0vfOfH6SSzFLqu9JznwrZEcpm20qw201jZGPEBosp5ySsjaYsxieLHkEcmaW8gE1rhnavZu3rF9gHuH4JMCg3tfu574yQupWs/s2048/seagull.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1660" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyx3Zy_NVsWV3jRI_jVI6U7y1CSz3aVxhxElMGSZYYrtQ0vfOfH6SSzFLqu9JznwrZEcpm20qw201jZGPEBosp5ySsjaYsxieLHkEcmaW8gE1rhnavZu3rF9gHuH4JMCg3tfu574yQupWs/w518-h640/seagull.jpg" width="518" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic50z080WZwrhxB-lF22tlCovDbaSwP6Dx98OlyseS7h2B1DIh6ftNjP3nLV9bdHnoGRPIruEfR2QNUeGspKHpIohpmzD78IZgcbyWDDlnJSfrQt7exDQoaO7CC9LSaEf_KzotMezod2t1/s2048/seashells.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1725" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic50z080WZwrhxB-lF22tlCovDbaSwP6Dx98OlyseS7h2B1DIh6ftNjP3nLV9bdHnoGRPIruEfR2QNUeGspKHpIohpmzD78IZgcbyWDDlnJSfrQt7exDQoaO7CC9LSaEf_KzotMezod2t1/w540-h640/seashells.jpg" width="540" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Galveston Island, Texas, January 2021</div><p> </p><blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>"I just don't think I'm looking for the big moments in life anymore. It's more the simple ones that make for a beautiful day now. Like the sun rising and the moon dancing, and the wind singing and the leaves grooving, and kids laughing and music playing, butterflies twirling, heart-smiles staying -- and me being present to witness all these little beautiful things. This is what makes for a happy and peaceful life. I'm sure.</i></span></div></blockquote><div style="font-style: italic; text-align: right;"><i>S.C. Lourie</i></div><div style="font-style: italic; text-align: right;"><i>Bella Grace Magazine</i></div><div style="font-style: italic; text-align: right;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After reading this quote, I realized that it was exactly how I was feeling while on our winter vacation in Galveston this past month. On this trip I just wanted to slow down and enjoy every little thing, relax either in our travel trailer, on a pier over looking the Gulf, or on our bikes riding through the wonderful architecture of this beautiful old town.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">So I ask you to slow down and really take a look around you, not at the big things of life, but at the small things, things you might not even think are important. Leaving your heart open for God to speak to you and then maybe you too will find a more happy and peaceful life. I'm sure.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <p></p>the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-35790551453895043692021-01-15T14:01:00.002-07:002021-01-15T15:47:26.304-07:00heritage<h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"> "and this is the part where you find out who you are"</span></h2><div><br /></div><div> May 29, 1954</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-OrxMOTkDYbrMTFLAVxrR2cmtbzIPuc5tV3cDnIfTsAKqBdhRAKA9_fgngKMB6pkeidF0QvZJKLaWJC9ojn5rIp_khYbUMd2dPHU5r_58hjodMS6x1yCyHWN80oy-136V_7VbpFWYSEM/s2048/20210115_133557.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1446" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-OrxMOTkDYbrMTFLAVxrR2cmtbzIPuc5tV3cDnIfTsAKqBdhRAKA9_fgngKMB6pkeidF0QvZJKLaWJC9ojn5rIp_khYbUMd2dPHU5r_58hjodMS6x1yCyHWN80oy-136V_7VbpFWYSEM/w452-h640/20210115_133557.jpg" width="452" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1577" data-original-width="2048" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSzVbvSFVa36ABeY4fPedz7iJnkvT7ihiHMlQQ0OCacJkK4khvoNAohyphenhyphenQw740zbjI8ogGNgqMzQvfuFrAIKD7O2xj2isU5sTsjMwo52KZZ1wgS2YRhjpczsQSHBvRQbOOyG2ucSaG-VGIF/w640-h492/20210115_134017.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTvJ8wgEvNCCpwJTimx6vvcTo8v5FXsO4VT9-dAD0wGB63EZjO4FDT-JJ4yR8TC5cY2m3z5nMlUK9RIIpbdWpt2BvhFHUngI_31-4oS505wpMB2a_QzCTDjlL6nhgLX_ViAuVWs58khiTJ/s2048/20210115_133928.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTvJ8wgEvNCCpwJTimx6vvcTo8v5FXsO4VT9-dAD0wGB63EZjO4FDT-JJ4yR8TC5cY2m3z5nMlUK9RIIpbdWpt2BvhFHUngI_31-4oS505wpMB2a_QzCTDjlL6nhgLX_ViAuVWs58khiTJ/w640-h448/20210115_133928.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlySEB2xdlY5gnLpRvyQwUgPBH-6xH1HyGjrSBxyugaWoUbOSD1UVwYg8C-cWicRcHf6JoXSTQLqjjQBCAZxZxl2t067zoMYbFmh5DaYckKmvOsppoXlD5HTsSBAMpvxFssBIoeT2tcEU6/s2048/20210115_133953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1594" data-original-width="2048" height="498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlySEB2xdlY5gnLpRvyQwUgPBH-6xH1HyGjrSBxyugaWoUbOSD1UVwYg8C-cWicRcHf6JoXSTQLqjjQBCAZxZxl2t067zoMYbFmh5DaYckKmvOsppoXlD5HTsSBAMpvxFssBIoeT2tcEU6/w640-h498/20210115_133953.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDApCGltHRwRwtgWCpE3dG5pxSEZu5Op4KkJ-M325HoznOXNy8E3xuhDmKU1kvVpzbuVfm-wqQfO9gBMJle10Cx9zXAIddDgLTWOun-BOuxewlxIhlqUMnQG_M8aseqhgRmC4z6FXnM61_/s2048/20210115_134037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1384" data-original-width="2048" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDApCGltHRwRwtgWCpE3dG5pxSEZu5Op4KkJ-M325HoznOXNy8E3xuhDmKU1kvVpzbuVfm-wqQfO9gBMJle10Cx9zXAIddDgLTWOun-BOuxewlxIhlqUMnQG_M8aseqhgRmC4z6FXnM61_/w640-h432/20210115_134037.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-37764980724247300882021-01-09T13:20:00.000-07:002021-01-09T13:20:07.917-07:00christmas cards<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTX2vOHdexgiKg-_jeL1XW3V-DW21-kG1EvegDsubO08iLCfXODsvadEMzjxILYnZ3wZNlRBdxqMHqm0bvQtYIoikD43nfmq2p3z5bmeCu57Ra-iglxZOTb3-JNYoNxebZoMsNsg5d5riJ/s2048/20210109_121512-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTX2vOHdexgiKg-_jeL1XW3V-DW21-kG1EvegDsubO08iLCfXODsvadEMzjxILYnZ3wZNlRBdxqMHqm0bvQtYIoikD43nfmq2p3z5bmeCu57Ra-iglxZOTb3-JNYoNxebZoMsNsg5d5riJ/w640-h480/20210109_121512-01.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I was cleaning the house today, putting away the last of the Christmas decorations and I gathered up the Christmas cards that the Preacher and I had received during the holidays. As I was going through them one last time before packing them away, I began to think about how great it was that people still mail out Christmas blessings. </span></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXWAYpT-3ohlvQd0Uu-fP14KkznG1FkHD_QScpdOCBPY61zssFD3Rbn_eJ7_372hJ6zmONKEDhUvB5qJi1KbLkG0Du1fGZT5VEE7_-zK5QdUE7ThaHdHU3mnztRd1Nj5l44IVNWkfl_5Kj/s2048/20210109_121542-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXWAYpT-3ohlvQd0Uu-fP14KkznG1FkHD_QScpdOCBPY61zssFD3Rbn_eJ7_372hJ6zmONKEDhUvB5qJi1KbLkG0Du1fGZT5VEE7_-zK5QdUE7ThaHdHU3mnztRd1Nj5l44IVNWkfl_5Kj/w640-h480/20210109_121542-01.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In today's time of social media it is very easy to just send out Christmas wishes through our social platforms. And while I type this I am really talking to myself. Every year for the last several years, I have said that this year I will sit down and write out Christmas greetings to all of my family and friends. Then the days move on fast and I feel defeated that I didn't get it done.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Christmas cards were special during the years of my growing up. We enjoyed going out to the mailbox and seeing how many cards we would receive. The most special card for my mother and I was the card that she would receive from her pen pal who lived in England. The fact that our family who was living in the middle of Indiana would receive a card from across the world was exciting. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ky8xwJdXO9-k-ydrW4hQuTaqqwJc71kxXFiOoZ2tKf79LfuaRXMEC9Nn427yAPM-zf_NLCmDvNo72qJ2o3_crZWy7i-jsX5iifUJSKAL6sxwE2ynpiGq3vN1BFuji8dZlHP3L9RGPRQk/s2048/20210109_121614-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ky8xwJdXO9-k-ydrW4hQuTaqqwJc71kxXFiOoZ2tKf79LfuaRXMEC9Nn427yAPM-zf_NLCmDvNo72qJ2o3_crZWy7i-jsX5iifUJSKAL6sxwE2ynpiGq3vN1BFuji8dZlHP3L9RGPRQk/w640-h480/20210109_121614-01.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The amount of cards that we receive has diminished over the years but I have some family that sends them out faithfully every year and if they stopped sending the cards I think that would make me sad. We also receive cards from old friends and it is good to see pictures of their children growing and knowing that they are doing well.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">So through this post we want to say thank you to those who sent us Christmas blessings.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We love you all!</span></p>the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-42093523645819435742020-09-16T17:03:00.002-06:002020-09-16T17:03:42.167-06:00brave<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4R0WellrNjS88gBEnE1ANZDaxoU2QIHn0BDi9YTZX_HfHEy0C0tntmdJsbOzfppnK1piIl0wCjE4iktMyWOU64CH1FYYah-Zz30YjM0vXPKsWT2TtsdkLsrBWE6S31_x39bvi8nuUFIIi/s2048/20200915_170209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1767" data-original-width="2048" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4R0WellrNjS88gBEnE1ANZDaxoU2QIHn0BDi9YTZX_HfHEy0C0tntmdJsbOzfppnK1piIl0wCjE4iktMyWOU64CH1FYYah-Zz30YjM0vXPKsWT2TtsdkLsrBWE6S31_x39bvi8nuUFIIi/w446-h385/20200915_170209.jpg" width="446" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One day last week, the Preacher and I were in our office discussing the things that we needed to do before our Sunday's worship service. The Preacher became silent and I could tell he had something on his mind. He then said, "In order to keep church going through these crazy times, you have to be brave. I can forgo the restaurants--that's not worth the risk, but church, it's worth the risk."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Brave? I never thought of that word being associated with opening the church doors on a Sunday morning. </span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The mainstream media had told us that if we went outside and touched another person or breathed the air, air that someone else has breathed, we could potentially die, people had panicked. We went from joking about hoarding toilet paper to actually hiding in our houses. The world, our world, shut down. So the church had to change the status quo as to how the Word was preached.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We continued our discussion for a while and then we went on to our daily duties. As the week went on the word 'brave' kept repeating in my mind. I began hearing Nicole Nordeman's song, <i>"Brave"</i>, running through my head.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>"The gate is wide, the road is paved in moderation The crowd is kind and quick to pull you in Welcome to the middle ground You're safe and sound and until now it's where I've been.</i></span></blockquote><blockquote><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>'Cause it's been fear That ties me down to everything But it's been love, Your love That cuts the strings</i></span></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i><span style="font-family: arial;">So long status quo, I think I just let go You make me wanna be brave The way it always was is no longer good enough You make me wanna be brave"</span> </i></p></blockquote><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And then, as the Lord always does when He wants to teach me something, two articles came across my computer screen. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Susie Hawkins from namb.net writes</span></p><p></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: arial;">"(1) Bravery is faith fearlessness, (2) Bravery demonstrates trust, (3) Bravery takes risks. C.S. Lewis said, "</span><span style="font-family: arial;">Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point...a chastity or honesty or mercy which yields to danger will be chaste or honest or merciful only on conditions. Pilate was merciful till it became risky". And as he points out, kingdom-minded lives require us to be brave in living out all biblical principles, even challenging conditions. In fact that is exactly where "true bravery" occurs. </span></blockquote><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> Laura Stephens Reed, from laurastephensreed.com writes:</span></p><blockquote><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"Prior to the pandemic, a number of clergy were working under unrealistic expectations, whether those came from their congregations or from their own internal "shoulds". And then in March they had to change the ways they did nearly everything and fast. They became not just preachers but tech experts with all that entails: recording, editing, sound mixing, lighting, inviting people to and teaching them how to participate in and managing online meetings, exploring the most accessible social media platforms, and monitoring cyber security. They spend many hours trying to get all of this right because worship and Bible study and fellowship are so critical, not knowing that they'd have to continue all that they started beyond a few weeks, often without much help from others. The effects of all these difficulties are taking their toll. They have deepened pre-existing fault lines and created new ones. Clergy who already had some sense of discontent now have one foot out the door, and some who were happy are seriously questioning whether their current context is still a good fit. The result, I predict, is going to be a tidal wave of pastoral departures once churches re-gather, and maybe sooner depending on how long the pandemic rages on. Church folks, this time is hard for everyone, It's hard for you and it's hard for your pastor." </span></p></blockquote><p> <span style="font-family: arial;">Yes it has been hard and tiring. There were some days when the Preacher and I were very tired from trying to keep it all going as if there was nothing wrong. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But brave? Did we feel brave? No.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The Preacher has taken precautions due to some breathing issues but he loves the Word of God and loves his congregation. So he will continue to be brave for the Word and for you.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><blockquote><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p></blockquote><p></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><p></p>the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-31601691271033068922020-09-02T12:40:00.001-06:002020-09-02T12:40:10.897-06:00out of the stump<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Five years ago we were searching for a new home. We came across a nice 2-story house and while walking through the house with the previous owner, she took us outside to show us her flower gardens and she turned to one of the trees in the yard. Actually it was just a stump. She explained that it had not flourished and had begun to die so her husband decided to cut out the dead limbs but left the last main stump of what was once a pretty tree.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After purchasing the home we thought about going ahead and cutting the tree stump completely down. But with the busyness of moving in and with everyday life and work we forgot about our plans of cutting it down.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So the stump sat there during the long, cold winter just waiting for the spring. And in the spring we began to notice that there was new life coming up out of that old stump. So we decided to leave it and see what might come of the once dead stump.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOXMyrhsfp_iKIZ7iB_2BAvX7fe-2FedlNi3WCnl6r9TPiIcElQH3WC0z83OgGyBY4yBLDyI61w3EgVKiD4PWA6guIplvspQ7u32r5W2evYVZI9EP7pwN_LK571KHgULutcah3T39rkPqH/s2048/20200823_133412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOXMyrhsfp_iKIZ7iB_2BAvX7fe-2FedlNi3WCnl6r9TPiIcElQH3WC0z83OgGyBY4yBLDyI61w3EgVKiD4PWA6guIplvspQ7u32r5W2evYVZI9EP7pwN_LK571KHgULutcah3T39rkPqH/s640/20200823_133412.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Now after these five years all that is left of the stump is a dried, dead log. You can see what is left in the above picture. But as you can see, there is a healthy tree surrounding that stump. New life came back from the dead.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sometimes we may feel cut off and cut out. But you can't stop God. He is there waiting to make you new again.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You were made by Him in His image as His child. He has been waiting for you since the beginning of time to grow and to look up to Him. Just as the trees and the flowers reach up to the sun for its rays to give them life, so should we look up to the Son. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You can begin again, anew, in His love. Let His love help you to have hope again. Be still and wait. If your heart is in a place where it feels like a long, cold winter just be still and know that He is there working for you to help you grow into who He always knew you could be.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUQMtgzaUb4oXi7nNVDTVw4jaBsGKG_5tAR_j_4rTrialD1Kk2jrJabWu0REP0sfZLvEE3DYtcjFS9pZa9Lu0e6p7y4MHFNvjO7x0TN-Lvvc4ABd8d05kKTKvNVkEsvCeMY_SCwYHtOxKe/s2048/20200823_133430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUQMtgzaUb4oXi7nNVDTVw4jaBsGKG_5tAR_j_4rTrialD1Kk2jrJabWu0REP0sfZLvEE3DYtcjFS9pZa9Lu0e6p7y4MHFNvjO7x0TN-Lvvc4ABd8d05kKTKvNVkEsvCeMY_SCwYHtOxKe/s640/20200823_133430.jpg" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><br /> <p></p>the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-67484490269865072502020-07-03T13:57:00.000-06:002020-07-03T13:57:52.666-06:00my house<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqBux8GaUbcEOXvXuFwO8PmEzv0O1xbCX6NETqI36l0DCLQcfjYTMsjPvXzofTHsG5VcMpWHOwCiEkW8hjD4wGmkQ563IL2l2HmNpVBU7RYk0bxVAW0Bi5MDD2nKD2tZ5SsW6QU6rN8Rds/s1600/signal-2020-06-15-171030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqBux8GaUbcEOXvXuFwO8PmEzv0O1xbCX6NETqI36l0DCLQcfjYTMsjPvXzofTHsG5VcMpWHOwCiEkW8hjD4wGmkQ563IL2l2HmNpVBU7RYk0bxVAW0Bi5MDD2nKD2tZ5SsW6QU6rN8Rds/s400/signal-2020-06-15-171030.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">AS FOR ME AND MY HOUSE</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">WE WILL </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"> <i>love</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><i> serve</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><i> honor</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><i> magnify</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><i> praise</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><i> worship</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><i> fear</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><i> obey</i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">follow</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"> trust</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;">THE LORD</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "courier new", courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Joshua 24:15</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Inspired by @christinecaine IG post</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"> </span>the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-60061411100655281682020-04-16T18:05:00.000-06:002020-04-16T18:05:19.415-06:00lies that i tell myself<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4WmPGgr3CkTKrcz-doUjhraS2AqeSOVauo1xFXE7bxsmcckXlfD0bVXUXvBI7yv6JfFHLYSZq2gsO7p2682rWzSeyFZsJVw9nOoqFmxO7aM4VvqvS3nnUosXMVmRRb2YAE4Jpx8Q8tDFY/s1600/81Jt8gsHgGL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4WmPGgr3CkTKrcz-doUjhraS2AqeSOVauo1xFXE7bxsmcckXlfD0bVXUXvBI7yv6JfFHLYSZq2gsO7p2682rWzSeyFZsJVw9nOoqFmxO7aM4VvqvS3nnUosXMVmRRb2YAE4Jpx8Q8tDFY/s640/81Jt8gsHgGL.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Preacher has begun looking at some ideas for new sermon series for the rest of the year. He needed something that would tie into Mother's Day and Father's Day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had purchased this book last year thinking that he might be able to use it for Mother's Day but he went in a different direction.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So this year when he and I were discussing his sermon plans, I reminded him of this book. He asked me to look over the chapter headings and let him know out of all of the chapters what were the topics that I thought women would want to know the truth about.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The book deals with the lies that we as women tell ourselves and the author then tells you what truths the Lord wants you to hear.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I looked them over and this is what I saw:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"About God" the lie is that God doesn't love me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"About Themselves" the lie is that I'm not worth anything and physical beauty matters more than inner beauty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"About Sin" the lie is that my sin isn't really that bad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"About Priorities" the lie is that I don't have time to do everything I'm supposed to do.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"About Marriage" the lie is that it is my job to change my mate.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"About Children" the lie is that I can't control/can control the way my children turn out and that I'm not a good mother.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"About Emotions" the lie is that if I feel something it must be true.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"About Circumstances" the lie is that I just can't take any more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We need the truth told by the Lord so that we will not believe these lies anymore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There are several more "lies" that we tell ourselves that are discussed in the book. These are just a few that I pointed out to him that he could possibly use for his series.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I would encourage you to pick up the book and read it. There might just be a lie that you have been telling yourself that the author has put in the book. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There is also this book for men</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWBcCIOUC_2pqV4wqE8hKzqMntLlZUHw2GwC00hlLTsnhgBeMmgqyULyPrvbrpVIm0fatUshXiufYcQBhFVAVxP_60BT001FvIjmkGiEERyQMJNfFoQbi9HMxlZ_yzroIkXcwy_Qpf8Sun/s1600/91nnyzIS1gL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWBcCIOUC_2pqV4wqE8hKzqMntLlZUHw2GwC00hlLTsnhgBeMmgqyULyPrvbrpVIm0fatUshXiufYcQBhFVAVxP_60BT001FvIjmkGiEERyQMJNfFoQbi9HMxlZ_yzroIkXcwy_Qpf8Sun/s640/91nnyzIS1gL.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The preacher will be discussing a few of the lies that men tell themselves when he starts this sermon series. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Maybe you and your husband/boyfriend/fiance' might want to pick both of them up and read them together as a devotional. There are a few topics/lies that do overlap.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The funny thing is, is that the women's book just happens to have a few more pages than the men's book. I don't know but maybe that says something about us women.</span><br />
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the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-72428892334140140882020-01-07T15:25:00.000-07:002020-01-07T15:25:04.433-07:00faith<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. </i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)</span></span> </blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before the new year began I saw a few Pinterest sites and Facebook posts asking what would you would choose to be your <i>'word'</i> for 2020.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I thought about this and decided that my word for 2020 would be the same that it was in 2018 and 2019 -- FAITH.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I was a little girl my mom and dad took us to church every Sunday. I learned all the Bible stories and all of Jesus' parables. The one that fascinated me is in the book of Matthew, chapter 17, verse 20, where Jesus tells his disciples that if they have the faith as small as a mustard seed, that they can move a mountain.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My mother had a necklace that had a clear round ball on the end of the chain, and inside of that ball was a tiny mustard seed. I remember just barely being tall enough to see above her dresser and playing with her jewelry. This necklace intrigued me. How did they get that little seed inside of that ball. I knew the story it represented but it didn't make any sense.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How can you move a mountain with a faith as small as that seed? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In April of 2018 through January 2019, I became fully aware of how a figurative mountain can be moved with a faith the size of a seed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My faith throughout that year wavered, I will admit it. But I held onto His promises and as of January 9, 2019, He showed us just how powerful faith in Him can be. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn't want to ever lose that knowledge that a faith as small as a mustard seed can overcome. I also didn't want to ever forget just what the Lord did for our family throughout that year. So back in April of last year I went and had a tattoo with the word <i>'faith'</i> placed on my arm. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is small and it is there just for me. I didn't get it to make a big show. I got it so that I am reminded of His power. And if anyone noticed it and asked why, I would be able to tell them of His power and His love.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv8vWr_kbzjaD48AvRDMoiERwMsPpwiM2gQ4ONdBwb8Nz2-1Y-8EKX_Yr7bOUbMmz24D6OKfynMlyoLzrsi0-T1wq2Du91OxhzYXwqvFy1Xe6Yw8CBTSm9ZDgewMqHBJm3vXjxP12gk7ud/s1600/20200107_142820.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv8vWr_kbzjaD48AvRDMoiERwMsPpwiM2gQ4ONdBwb8Nz2-1Y-8EKX_Yr7bOUbMmz24D6OKfynMlyoLzrsi0-T1wq2Du91OxhzYXwqvFy1Xe6Yw8CBTSm9ZDgewMqHBJm3vXjxP12gk7ud/s400/20200107_142820.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before going into a nursing home my mother asked if I wanted any of her jewelry and I was excited to see that she still had her mustard seed necklace. So now it is mine. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just a side note here, but if you are interested in a tattoo, I highly recommend Faith Tattoo in Golden, Colorado. And yes I feel like the Lord directed me to this tattoo shop because of the name.</span>the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-34688644329437501692019-10-14T12:48:00.000-06:002019-10-14T12:48:21.987-06:00only one person<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFvYCli40WoTTcSvDfbckC1ygJeIts7oB4PmQc18qcoMp8MgeACkaQkVdzNcLsYSRoTOd6fcKLusqjMDkkNEhsdx3r_uUIDMvET_Ch_PHEQrYrBmBQLxEG6NEcAdHB1UMv6MnSmJ8M032v/s1600/19399530_1412891448754323_4606117848875094284_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="843" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFvYCli40WoTTcSvDfbckC1ygJeIts7oB4PmQc18qcoMp8MgeACkaQkVdzNcLsYSRoTOd6fcKLusqjMDkkNEhsdx3r_uUIDMvET_Ch_PHEQrYrBmBQLxEG6NEcAdHB1UMv6MnSmJ8M032v/s640/19399530_1412891448754323_4606117848875094284_n.jpg" width="562" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At some point you're going to realize there's only one person</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">whose name alone can make your day better.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Only one person you look for when you enter a room.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One person that makes you the best you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And when you realize that, your life will never be the same again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(author unknown)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy Anniversary to my one and only!</span></div>
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<br />the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-22425623256830614732019-09-20T12:01:00.000-06:002019-09-20T12:01:00.000-06:00crochet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LTAMVnt7GuqitIP9uuFHTdX6pLVaUmdwLgB8ge6KkQtUbOxT9lOJFmfc2S0XhC6mnVKAIoBIHZu6u2e1jNNvvrjS8ua_nBqjWmUuFndST2PfrucMO2jKlH7Q50j_s6nIR6gYZ7WLOzWX/s1600/IMG_20190915_144224_459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LTAMVnt7GuqitIP9uuFHTdX6pLVaUmdwLgB8ge6KkQtUbOxT9lOJFmfc2S0XhC6mnVKAIoBIHZu6u2e1jNNvvrjS8ua_nBqjWmUuFndST2PfrucMO2jKlH7Q50j_s6nIR6gYZ7WLOzWX/s400/IMG_20190915_144224_459.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">When I was young, my mother taught me how to sew, embroider and crochet. I tried my best to enjoy sewing. I remember making a purse out of old jeans and I had to make a skirt for Home Economics class, which I hated every minute of sewing that skirt. I just couldn't get the hang of it. I enjoyed embroidery and crocheting more than sewing. I enjoyed most of all learning the things that made my mother happy and it felt good to be with her.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">But over the years those skills faded and I didn't follow my mother's desire to make blankets and baby clothes and sweaters, scarfs and hats.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Segoe UI, Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Segoe UI, Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">Several weeks ago I began to feel the urge to start crocheting again but I didn't know if I could do it. I didn't know where to begin. But then I remembered that a friend of mine crochets baby clothes and sells them at craft shows. So I asked this friend if she would help me renew my skills and desire. She gave me some advice, some instructions and told me that I could find tutorials YouTube. I got excited and started to believe that I could crochet again. </span></span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Segoe UI, Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Segoe UI, Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">Unfortunately my mother is not able to crochet anymore. But with the memory of my mother's instructions, the help of a friend and the help of YouTube tutorials, I am excited to learn anew this old hobby.</span></span></span></div>
<br />the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-88788331825165238412019-08-31T13:30:00.002-06:002019-09-04T12:00:18.371-06:00are you a geographer or an explorer?<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"I am a geographer," said the old gentleman. "What is a geographer?" asked the little prince. "A geographer is a scholar who knows the location of all the seas, rivers, towns, mountains, and deserts."</i></span></blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOR0kU1gT4L8oKTzkPRc_88JFxPSN_iz8JNwfTE0KAZ6U0JVUT4sMMdI5EbHi_9WljmXhGr4ojGrkDcroq1vKrh-_LP_Nwl7oPMhUPExiYBh68YUVNufW0judY5yEO7oKqspbKk4GtZK1U/s1600/20190819_160708_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="844" data-original-width="900" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOR0kU1gT4L8oKTzkPRc_88JFxPSN_iz8JNwfTE0KAZ6U0JVUT4sMMdI5EbHi_9WljmXhGr4ojGrkDcroq1vKrh-_LP_Nwl7oPMhUPExiYBh68YUVNufW0judY5yEO7oKqspbKk4GtZK1U/s400/20190819_160708_Fotor.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Idaho Springs, CO</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>He cast a look around him at the planet of the geographer. It was the most magnificent and stately planet that he had ever seen.</i></span></blockquote>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcN5lYbJe80t1vxqZt7b3aGRNvN-xyqvAr555u7F3lrjta4CYk6FeMQgzdQ-GkvAuJTqgg0eoe7z6Bfny6RuolzqDayFIKGcuMTKTscGYMxHkNinmz-GbA57IvpWsCNrKRZyPRrQBy-IJ_/s1600/20190819_141626_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="697" data-original-width="1600" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcN5lYbJe80t1vxqZt7b3aGRNvN-xyqvAr555u7F3lrjta4CYk6FeMQgzdQ-GkvAuJTqgg0eoe7z6Bfny6RuolzqDayFIKGcuMTKTscGYMxHkNinmz-GbA57IvpWsCNrKRZyPRrQBy-IJ_/s640/20190819_141626_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3bfzTFNC-B8947U1nSI3IpajxsSvItYuvpgYcRCJ1yEDqq2Db0dozvGQkj_UR4xr0hc5gWe3WcC4czYAyBC91HsgPfU_SX4VzVGA9Vz1ZtiD3ewY23JWz3wHkUIZVGF9sHP3pAa1jC7Ow/s1600/20190820_151848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3bfzTFNC-B8947U1nSI3IpajxsSvItYuvpgYcRCJ1yEDqq2Db0dozvGQkj_UR4xr0hc5gWe3WcC4czYAyBC91HsgPfU_SX4VzVGA9Vz1ZtiD3ewY23JWz3wHkUIZVGF9sHP3pAa1jC7Ow/s640/20190820_151848.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">view from Mt. Evans</td></tr>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"Your planet is very beautiful," he said. "Has it any oceans?" "I couldn't tell you," said the geographer. "Has it any mountains?" I couldn't tell you," said the geographer. "And towns, and rivers, and deserts?" "I couldn't tell you that, either." "But you are a geographer!" "Exactly," the geographer said. "But I am not an explorer."</i></blockquote>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dirt road that goes up to old mines</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">remnants of an old mining camp</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Echo Lake</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">views while driving to the summit</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOBydQUdnvuZDJg5-C_Zg21n_-CK8Flbb8dm94cI4ywLPPp2GfyL2A9-o7bliTmYoxs7WswWSn5KpS93TE9hBYSQ_eCwCZnZEhCdjFVjbHHnTXBQpY63fEhfBhqM3dqqkgTmZuwwg3bEAh/s1600/20190820_151200_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="555" data-original-width="1254" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOBydQUdnvuZDJg5-C_Zg21n_-CK8Flbb8dm94cI4ywLPPp2GfyL2A9-o7bliTmYoxs7WswWSn5KpS93TE9hBYSQ_eCwCZnZEhCdjFVjbHHnTXBQpY63fEhfBhqM3dqqkgTmZuwwg3bEAh/s640/20190820_151200_Fotor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Evans Scenic By-Way -- Mt. Evans Scenic Byway increases in elevation to an impressive 7,000 feet in just 28 miles. Mt. Evans Byway is the highest paved highway in North America, reaching an altitude of 14,264 feet.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crest House Ruins at the Summit</td></tr>
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Here is a picture of the Crest House when it was in operation. The Crest House was a restaurant, gift shop and observation point, built in 1939-1941. It was a popular tourist destination until it was destroyed in December, 1979 by a propane gas explosion.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS4WfXc4F3ZCp_ppf7MA_hk_4EzknLpYKkFDCD-dKM4rMeOZlnq8F86GPWK78OUutDxvcm0cS_088wbWEAdFJdCbS5Wxm4wyfIjAh6xJ8bhaKqTCXHmgQm8h2l3D7Fl7nop_1BcFKZTKwd/s1600/crest+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="836" height="449" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS4WfXc4F3ZCp_ppf7MA_hk_4EzknLpYKkFDCD-dKM4rMeOZlnq8F86GPWK78OUutDxvcm0cS_088wbWEAdFJdCbS5Wxm4wyfIjAh6xJ8bhaKqTCXHmgQm8h2l3D7Fl7nop_1BcFKZTKwd/s640/crest+house.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1970 postcard of the Crest House</td></tr>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"It is not the geographer who goes out to count the towns, the rivers, the mountains, the seas, the oceans, and the deserts. The geographer is much to important to go loafing about. He does not leave his desk. But he receives the explorers in his study. He asks them questions, and he notes down what they recall of their travels" </i> ~ <i>The Little Prince</i>, written by Antoine de Saint Exupery</blockquote>
Pictures taken while we were exploring the Idaho Springs, and Mt. Evans area.<br />
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Who are you? The geographer or the explorer?the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-84748304833238501172019-08-07T15:57:00.001-06:002019-08-07T15:57:43.146-06:00new memories in estes park, colorado<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYflKKs-lELdfJfhAHoIobTJAalvezf5xX09-9rnHDpcAMcTrzCmIGklNFu4iUcgT4nsvHsvOLElEz7zV8njRM9409OvgM2dAQds3gG35_AW7e-g52zkiZbA_-GQLqE8co_xGGVwb5v-VJ/s1600/3866_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="756" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYflKKs-lELdfJfhAHoIobTJAalvezf5xX09-9rnHDpcAMcTrzCmIGklNFu4iUcgT4nsvHsvOLElEz7zV8njRM9409OvgM2dAQds3gG35_AW7e-g52zkiZbA_-GQLqE8co_xGGVwb5v-VJ/s400/3866_Fotor.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last week the Preacher and I took a few days off and went to <a href="https://www.google.com/destination?q=estes+park&output=search&dest_mid=/m/0rbp3&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi78Kns1vHjAhV3AZ0JHUZEB5sQ6tEBKAQwAHoECAsQBw#dest_mid=/m/0rbp3&tcfs=EhYKCC9tLzByYnAzEgpFc3RlcyBQYXJr" target="_blank">Estes Park</a>, here in Colorado. We stayed at the <a href="https://elkmeadowrv.com/" target="_blank">Elk Meadow Lodge and RV Resort</a>, which is becoming one of our favorite campgrounds. It isn't near the downtown area so you will have to drive to and from the shops and restaurants, but by it not being near any of the tourist areas, you are left in a relatively quiet area.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The views from the campground are breath-taking. The picture of the Preacher and of our camper show Long's Peak in the background.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When driving up the Big Thompson Canyon, Highway 34, on our way up to Estes Park, we always have memories that seem to coming flooding back. I first visited Estes Park when I was 14 or 15 years old. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit-9lifzGFxvUQEeLrYbrn-mXKcobmmW_0SyGLYXBtmbwsirxq0a2BoWhD2G0BtifVerZdX67RBw-g_MbMJY81Xhbtr9niEtjo033Na6FlhlfG9r1nglBZNmZMRkwj8-ZIh0xJ_ji041Hw/s1600/20190729_153401_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit-9lifzGFxvUQEeLrYbrn-mXKcobmmW_0SyGLYXBtmbwsirxq0a2BoWhD2G0BtifVerZdX67RBw-g_MbMJY81Xhbtr9niEtjo033Na6FlhlfG9r1nglBZNmZMRkwj8-ZIh0xJ_ji041Hw/s400/20190729_153401_001.jpg" width="225" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My family came to Colorado for a family vacation and I remember walking around the town visiting the shops. I took this picture of my ice cream cone because while sitting in front of the ice cream shop, I noticed they were advertising taffy. Taffy was one of my dad's favorite. He would always buy a box of taffy in various flavors.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Preacher and I vacationed with the Preacher's mother a couple of times, and with our son. Those memories are the freshest, of course. We remember the Preacher's mother's favorite restaurants and her stories of when she and the Preacher's father came to Estes Park on their family vacations. We remember the hikes that we took with our son - Old Man Mountain, the Twin Sisters, Long's Peak, and so many more. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was laying in bed on the second day of our trip, again remembering all of the good times that we have had in and around this mountain town. I began wondering how many more memories are there to be made?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Later that day the Preacher and I decided to take a small hike up to the Birch rock cabin. It sits up on a knoll that overlooks the town. Albert Birch, City Editor for the Denver Post, built the cabin in the early 1900's, and then it burned down in December of 1907. The shell of the cabin and the fireplace still stand. A piece of history and a new memory!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQF_7n5CQnXG0geHaHiDfBdC00GBUkPeiDyFscTbJ2pborDmEisueWnX1bMq5wL4XDRvV776ejOltTsPRuuO5jAsFt95bC267J0UOacxA1T8LZ68RuH4ru5mH1nX9eJZVE-5C5XrL2XDtc/s1600/3872_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="756" data-original-width="1008" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQF_7n5CQnXG0geHaHiDfBdC00GBUkPeiDyFscTbJ2pborDmEisueWnX1bMq5wL4XDRvV776ejOltTsPRuuO5jAsFt95bC267J0UOacxA1T8LZ68RuH4ru5mH1nX9eJZVE-5C5XrL2XDtc/s400/3872_Fotor.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the view from the rock cabin, overlooking Estes Park</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the day before we were to travel back home, the Preacher got up early to take our dog, Porter, out for a morning walk. He left and then came right back in and asked me why was the driver's door on the truck open. I, of course, had no clue. Upon further inspection we found out why. A bear had visited our campsite the night before and had opened the truck door and proceeded to climb in and walk around the front seats. Thankfully we did not have any food in the truck and the door had not shut back on him, because we were told later, that that is why the bears will tear up cars...they can't get out. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ruGXOjrIXB-D-Y7WXxuOA0-RdbCqD6TIaEOKyID7RnkiQip3VIKCtf_0t5U3fRsQrhqtebm2Z3asbqRTL8btinKZLCtM5rOIT9VlWYGdw179o_s93FiceGDeSAuvgjX6CwiIqvfAax06/s1600/20190730_084843_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1241" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ruGXOjrIXB-D-Y7WXxuOA0-RdbCqD6TIaEOKyID7RnkiQip3VIKCtf_0t5U3fRsQrhqtebm2Z3asbqRTL8btinKZLCtM5rOIT9VlWYGdw179o_s93FiceGDeSAuvgjX6CwiIqvfAax06/s400/20190730_084843_Fotor.jpg" width="310" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bear paw print where he placed his paw on the door when opening it.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V_l041iWiHIQPoKd8LSMm01tLEWOIMsUDRpCjNqMwnj9BfArexk6WfHYD3-c1C2rFgFnOYFz0Br8I48zUsqHcmUGIBe4nQDB73D84wW3V3cd-WNvanXyI2BX9SXqrRl7JkPCgVQiVyDV/s1600/20190730_084857.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V_l041iWiHIQPoKd8LSMm01tLEWOIMsUDRpCjNqMwnj9BfArexk6WfHYD3-c1C2rFgFnOYFz0Br8I48zUsqHcmUGIBe4nQDB73D84wW3V3cd-WNvanXyI2BX9SXqrRl7JkPCgVQiVyDV/s640/20190730_084857.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Pwj5GMKC5ICeedeumAIybDuzU1MvDwRGNPXZHGDM_Ofhq9S-N1VWJ_dxTVHUmeSevWsHbrrAaWhoG3T_n7pau7DrCevODE5ECgtOnZozU3-wiXv6QYSaZJNsRxStZAM4qgOVNKyWd7KU/s1600/20190730_085044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Pwj5GMKC5ICeedeumAIybDuzU1MvDwRGNPXZHGDM_Ofhq9S-N1VWJ_dxTVHUmeSevWsHbrrAaWhoG3T_n7pau7DrCevODE5ECgtOnZozU3-wiXv6QYSaZJNsRxStZAM4qgOVNKyWd7KU/s640/20190730_085044.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GrlBcnf8Udpa68yIyrtYS3DmxSXzbDHIxLLV4s00m92DFnr6NXBttCaJ10sMz60K9eB3KgdflxHZmWtJ9tL0mkto-I0TvMF5BPQuPUMhnE2GfFfd8f2Y8N1b_lw7JjHFEmUNReUwE3tA/s1600/20190730_085617_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GrlBcnf8Udpa68yIyrtYS3DmxSXzbDHIxLLV4s00m92DFnr6NXBttCaJ10sMz60K9eB3KgdflxHZmWtJ9tL0mkto-I0TvMF5BPQuPUMhnE2GfFfd8f2Y8N1b_lw7JjHFEmUNReUwE3tA/s640/20190730_085617_001.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bear snot, where he was smelling the back seat where our Porter dog sits</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This definitely is a new memory!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We look forward to many more memories in one of our favorite mountain towns here in Colorado...Estes Park!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-47778167918585413572019-07-02T13:38:00.001-06:002019-10-14T12:39:14.214-06:00pay close attention to your dog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1m-M9CjUG2oZW8yPUYBCSFCtE_3zwHPP0MubbE2Be-zKzxUsAx1C91OVlTCYMnJHPLuI7PDxFG8FqqruUGsn0olrIzAZIZq_xMtX-Ck7CD4jt66FEDvSTziKsRk4cKkrVe1rZXdtLDhN/s1600/baby+porter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1350" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1m-M9CjUG2oZW8yPUYBCSFCtE_3zwHPP0MubbE2Be-zKzxUsAx1C91OVlTCYMnJHPLuI7PDxFG8FqqruUGsn0olrIzAZIZq_xMtX-Ck7CD4jt66FEDvSTziKsRk4cKkrVe1rZXdtLDhN/s400/baby+porter.jpg" width="336" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Your pet is a part of your family. They are there for you to love and in turn will give that love back. Just like you look after them, they too will be there for you when they sense the need.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This post is about our Porter boy, but before I talk about him, I need to give you some of the back story.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A few weeks ago the Preacher and I were having a very stressful week. He was preparing for a memorial service, a wedding and his Sunday message, all of course happening in one weekend. And on top of all of this the Preacher injured his eye, causing us to go to an ophthalmologist for an emergency visit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">During that same week he also was dealing with a person who was homeless and needed a place to stay. The Preacher found her housing for a couple of days, but she was not happy with the people she was staying with and would call the Preacher complaining about the help that he provided and wanted to argue with the Preacher every time he would give her a suggestion. Also, during this same time, we found out that another person the Preacher had counseled was very upset with the Preacher because he didn't like the counsel that was given to him. After some friends of ours, who also had tried to reach out to this person, contacted the police because he seemed to become obsessed with them, we found out that the police suggested we keep our doors locked and I and my friend were not to be at home or our offices by ourselves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Needless to say my stress level was now heightened by all of the chaos that seemed to be surrounding us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I took the advice and began keeping the office doors locked. But one day the Preacher had come into the office to discuss what the rest of our day was going to look like. The Preacher then left to go on a bike ride to try to take a break and clear his head. Little did I know that he didn't lock the office door when he left. Upon his departure, I turned my back to the door and began to go back to work and then I hear the door opening.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This was someone new. He was very dirty and his clothes were hanging very loosely on his small frame. His one eye was half way shut and his hair was very dusty. You could tell he had not had a bath in quite some time. I saw that he had a bicycle parked outside of the office and it seemed every thing he owned, mostly bicycle pieces parts, were hanging off of the bike. From what I saw in front of me I immediately knew that he was homeless.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I grabbed the door hoping that he understood that he was not to come into the office, but I also asked him how we could help him. He looked down and saw Porter. He began to mumble about knowing someone with a border collie and still in a low mumble told me how he had lived in Texas, New Mexico and Illinois. He also wanted to let me know that the Governor of Illinois had killed one of the Kennedy's. I could sense that this was not a good situation. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEAACIyXJ8Sa3iqUuMYT1C2kkN0IaZHu5urOMPSRtwRPHuEeSuNm51vHpnTTpJEceVQ9BgYUY3chcrFynj0IRtzr5iJxchqkeQWq7wuboc3t3KCh-uXD_YiYtU0O-ojc_zuwH_J-SPHtVi/s1600/Porter+with+Dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1003" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEAACIyXJ8Sa3iqUuMYT1C2kkN0IaZHu5urOMPSRtwRPHuEeSuNm51vHpnTTpJEceVQ9BgYUY3chcrFynj0IRtzr5iJxchqkeQWq7wuboc3t3KCh-uXD_YiYtU0O-ojc_zuwH_J-SPHtVi/s640/Porter+with+Dad.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">If you have every met Porter, our Border Collie, you know that he is a very loving dog and you can see that he wants to be friends with everyone. He will jump up asking you to give him some rubs and anxious for you to play with him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I immediately grabbed Porter, thinking that he would start to jump up on this man, and possibly run out the door. Porter immediately began to try to wiggle his way out of my hold, and as soon as he did he didn't do any of the things that I thought he would do. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZIzxxVfhtRkCOgk_Jnvat1i84nobgQcQYAjzPgFyxoTywyxqqvKsXeQv0hUCmDcSZDAEpsl8V2iFHlIfYnEnJOFriun4pV_3IkVW3qppGcWQlnOBEoQbnDIplZltk_J6xpvEG0miVb4a/s1600/Porter+under+my+feet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZIzxxVfhtRkCOgk_Jnvat1i84nobgQcQYAjzPgFyxoTywyxqqvKsXeQv0hUCmDcSZDAEpsl8V2iFHlIfYnEnJOFriun4pV_3IkVW3qppGcWQlnOBEoQbnDIplZltk_J6xpvEG0miVb4a/s640/Porter+under+my+feet.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">He came up to me and laid down at my feet. Actually he laid his head ON my feet and stayed there the entire time I was talking with this person. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The Preacher came back and saw that I was very upset because this man was not talking coherently and I did not know what to do with him. When Porter saw the Preacher he took off out of the door to greet him. Porter then went over to the man, sniffed his leg, and immediately came back to me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Not once did Porter jump up or invite the man to play. Although he was not showing any signs of being aggressive, he was there to protect me. He understood that this person was not someone whom you should be around.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I didn't quite understand his behavior until the man was gone and I could think through the things that had been said and done.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I am glad that Porter was with me. He is just a cute, loving dog, but I now know that he is here to help me discern who I should and shouldn't trust. I know that he is there to save me if ever the unthinkable should happen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Pay close attention when your dog changes his behavior around a certain person. You don't know when it just might save you.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqrYjMUxups2jTNXYGIrby9cbjrCKeStgwlJzHvsOLqbhq6aguS6GWWhn6-ipSIlYVvKkl02IUX6vzHwh5FOylsAak28snbmsHK_U_g2kn3qSr1R42LOsfisiOtmYrnNyjA-fqXm4Bx8F_/s1600/Porter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="655" data-original-width="1600" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqrYjMUxups2jTNXYGIrby9cbjrCKeStgwlJzHvsOLqbhq6aguS6GWWhn6-ipSIlYVvKkl02IUX6vzHwh5FOylsAak28snbmsHK_U_g2kn3qSr1R42LOsfisiOtmYrnNyjA-fqXm4Bx8F_/s640/Porter.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-7171986369073057962019-06-07T16:17:00.001-06:002019-06-07T17:03:06.607-06:00reading<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIAmmpis3woPVD-PBrSmFCjHE58I0XP-kkuSFrgOcalgSkWPbSoHd5CkjyDM53IyewGR5VmfJ-yObcvo-BkhcVCsZunAT7uYfxjF9aoWo_42NdIDd3ko-3hXwCdWgph7vQ6DANhyZeBZC/s1600/20190529_153312_Fotor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1108" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIAmmpis3woPVD-PBrSmFCjHE58I0XP-kkuSFrgOcalgSkWPbSoHd5CkjyDM53IyewGR5VmfJ-yObcvo-BkhcVCsZunAT7uYfxjF9aoWo_42NdIDd3ko-3hXwCdWgph7vQ6DANhyZeBZC/s640/20190529_153312_Fotor.jpg" width="442" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So many books and not enough time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">These books, whether they are self-help books, biographies, or fictional, will teach me something. I will close the back cover upon reading the last word and I will somehow be better for reading the words contained inside.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Some will teach me about the lives of real people, how they met and how they lived their lives. Some will teach me about history and how others lived in a different time and a different place. Some will teach me how I should be living my life, now and for the future.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Some I have started, read the first chapter and put it down in order to finish another book that was started days or weeks before.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This stack won't get any shorter because there will always be more books to add to the stack. </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Inside the pages of books is where I go to lose myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Reading gives us someplace to go when we have to stay where we are." ~ Mason Cooley</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-40561687474948610942019-05-30T11:34:00.000-06:002019-05-30T11:42:05.563-06:00happy anniversary to mom and dad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This is the cake topper from my Mom and Dad's wedding cake from May 29, 1954. Yesterday was my Mom and Dad's anniversary. If Dad was still alive they would have been married 65 years. I love the fact that Mom has saved this for all of these years.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">They met on a blind date at an Arlington verses Morristown basketball game. Mom was a cheerleader for the Arlington Wildcats. That's the only part of the story that I've been told, but I would like to know more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I enjoy listening to stories of their travels. For instance, she told me that she had always wanted to drive over the Golden Gate Bridge. So on their honeymoon they traveled to California and they paid twenty-five cents to cross the bridge. That quarter had been saved since before the wedding. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This past week, while visiting with her, she told me about how much Dad loved the <a href="https://www.indianapolismotorspeedway.com/events/indy500" target="_blank">Indianapolis Motor Speedway 500 Mile Race</a> that takes place every year in Indianapolis on the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend. Well since they were married on the 29th and that year the race was ran on the 31st, Dad was not able to attend the race. So while on their honeymoon somewhere near the Yellowstone National Park, they asked someone where they could watch the race. No one that they talked to knew of the race and didn't know where they could watch or even listen to it. She tells that she and Dad could not believe that no one knew of the Indy 500. Dad and Mom didn't miss many races after that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My Mother told me that she liked to tell people that she and Dad were married in May and in July I was born. She doesn't tell them until after the confusion comes over their face that they were married in 1954 and I was born a year later in July. When telling this story she laughs because she thinks that was so clever of her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I know she misses my dad. She misses the life that they had together and now with her poor health and not being able to get around by herself, I know that she wishes she could go and be with him in heaven. I miss him too and think about him almost every day. I miss his laugh most of all. He had a great smile and could make you smile and laugh right along with him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad!</span><br />
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the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-2348743716463758132019-05-23T12:23:00.003-06:002019-05-23T12:23:36.749-06:00unplanned<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This past week, the Preacher and I went to see the movie, Unplanned. A local movie theater was showing the film for a one time showing and we had announced to our congregation and community that we needed their support in viewing this movie.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Honestly I didn't want to go. I had no desire to watch and listen to the horrific scenes that I knew would be portrayed in the film.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Preacher and I have been, and always will be, Pro-Life. There is nothing that can deter us from this. With all of the craziness that is going on in our world, in our country, I think we who want to save babies, in the womb and outside of the womb, need to take a stand for what is right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Preacher and I have been involved in Crisis Pregnancy Centers for more than 20 years now, and we feel that their work is vital in the communities that they represent. We have even been the ones who stood on the other side of the fence praying and asking for the Lord's help and forgiveness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The movie did a good job in showing all of the different reasons that Satan has lied to us about who should be getting an abortion and why. Everything from a boyfriend not wanting to be strapped with a baby, a father not wanting his family to be shamed by a daughter's unwanted pregnancy, a woman who just doesn't care about the baby and doesn't want another child to feed. And then the lies about how the baby is no more than just a blob in the womb and the baby/blob won't feel anything during the procedure. The movie gave you an insightful look into Planned Parenthood itself. This organization is nothing more than a large corporation wanting to make as much money as possible, with no regard to the girls and women AND babies who step foot into their "clinics"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you have the thought that your body is your body and you'll do as you wish with that body then I ask that you watch and listen to this video by Kirsten Watson.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When did it become normal for a mother to want to kill her own child? </span><br />
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the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-11271965139327351542019-05-15T10:27:00.001-06:002019-05-15T10:27:57.488-06:00you are mine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">While praying one day, a woman asked, "Who are you, God?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">He answered, "I Am".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"But, who is 'I Am'?", she asked.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">He replied,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"I Am Joy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am Love</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am Peace</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am Grace</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am Mercy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am Safety</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am Shelter</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am Creator</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am Strength</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am Comforter</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am Forgiveness</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am the First and the Last</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am the Beginning and the End</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I Am the Way, the Truth and the Life."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">With tears in her eyes, she looked toward heaven and said, "Now I understand. But who am I?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">God tenderly wiped the tears from her eyes and whispered, </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"You are Mine."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">To a woman who showed me how to have joy, love, peace, grace, mercy. Gave me safety and shelter. Showed me how to be creative. I saw her strength and yet she is a comfort. Who gave me forgiveness. And showed me Who was the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End, the Way, the Truth and the Life...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I love you Mom!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(Poem ~ Author Unknown)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-35490754566418061962019-04-29T10:09:00.002-06:002019-04-29T10:09:40.891-06:00grandma's potato salad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is my mother-in-law, the Preacher's mother. She was the sweetest woman, and I could not have asked for a better mother-in-law.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She loved to bake, especially fruit pies. Her pie crust was amazing. It was so flaky and buttery. Sometimes all I wanted was the crust. I could pass up the fruit but not that crust.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another dish that she would make was potato salad. We all loved her potato salad. If there was a pot-luck dinner scheduled at the church, people would request her salad. It was so creamy and sweet with a little crunch from the bacon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No one in the family would attempt to make it. It was her salad and only she could make it! She would boil the red potatoes and her eggs. And then see would gather all the other ingredients, place them on the table and there she would sit and make the magic happen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After she passed away in 2010, among the hundreds of things we missed about her, we missed her potato salad. The Preacher and I would attempt making it on a few occasions but it never seemed to come out right. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A couple of weeks ago the weather was beautiful. The day felt like we were finally coming out of winter's chill. The Preacher decided to grill some steaks. I cleaned the patio table, excited to sit out in the spring's sunshine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Preacher asked me to fix a salad to go with the steaks and we both knew what we needed to make -- Grandma's potato salad!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I boiled the red potatoes and the eggs and I fried some bacon. I set out the other ingredients: mayo, mustard, celery seeds, salt and pepper, and I chopped some dill pickles. When it was all combined we had a potato salad that was as good as my mother-in-law's! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We were very excited that we had replicated her recipe and it felt good to honor the Preacher's mother, Joan Smith.</span>the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-25330113674326409532019-04-17T12:06:00.000-06:002019-04-17T12:06:31.247-06:00who am I?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who am I? There are days when I can't answer that question. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There are days when I am lost in a mind fog. There are days when I wonder why am I this way. There are days when I wonder why can't I be like (<u>fill in the blank)</u>?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have always been an introvert. Growing up I never knew there was a word for the way I felt. I just knew that life outside of my own home and family was sometimes difficult. I have always felt self-conscious of how I looked, of the clothes I wore, how I talked, what I said, and on and on. If I thought for an instant that someone might laugh at me for doing something or saying something, then you can be sure, I would not do it or say it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I just read in the book, <i>Bird by Bird</i>, by Anne Lamott, that <i>"what people somehow forgot to mention when we were children was that we need to make messes in order to find out who we are and why we are here"</i>. I wish someone had told me that years ago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And then there are the times when I get really brave and say to myself, "don't worry about what they will say! Go, even if it does make a mess." Then there are days when I do things because I don't want to become what is expected of me because of my age, my standing in life or even because I'm a girl.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will never be famous or even infamous. I am and always will be just me. The </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">girl who will struggle with an identity and the </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">girl who knows exactly who she is. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But...this week I was told by a Christian sister that she thought it was a pleasure to do ministry with another woman who has just a hint of rebel in her. I like that!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rebel –– today that's who I am!</span>the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-24401397409154447002019-03-21T10:00:00.000-06:002019-03-22T12:22:36.229-06:00outside my window<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I look outside my window </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I am taken by surprise</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Rush outside my doorway</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Let the sunrise feel my eyes</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I climb upon a rock</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And I listen to the stream</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Watch the sunrise come</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">See it shining through the trees</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Look across the mountain</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Listen to the forest</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">With the coming of the day</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The forest it fills with sunlight </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And the colors slowly fade</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Sing a song to the morning</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">To welcome the day</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So I open my eyes and smile</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And I start another day</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Wipe my hands across my eyes</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As the colors slowly fade</span></div>
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<br />the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-74222054558077884472019-03-07T15:58:00.000-07:002019-03-07T15:58:19.241-07:00promise kept<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Sometimes when I pray I can't seem to put into words what I am feeling or asking for when I bow my head. So the cure for me is to write my prayers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In January, we were going through some rough times and during those times I would write down my prayers, my thoughts and some Bible verses that seemed to speak to me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">On one particular day while in Texas visiting our son, </span><span style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif;">I wrote down this verse</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>I call on the Lord in my distress and he answers me. Save me, O Lord, from lying lips and from deceitful tongues.</i> Psalms 120:1-2</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I then wrote</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>Please keep Your promises Lord!</i> </span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">That same day we drove to the Enchanted Rock State Park, located in south central Texas, to go hiking with our son.</span> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Upon arriving we discovered that the park was full and the rangers had closed the gates but they were also giving out tickets instructing us to come back later in the afternoon when the park would not be so crowded. We almost decided to go home but decided to get some lunch and return.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We returned around 2 or 3 in the afternoon. The Preacher and our son headed up the rock. Since I had our dog, Porter, and he was not allowed on the rock itself, I began to hike the lower trails. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After exploring the rock, the Preacher and our son began to follow another trail that was headed to the west when the Preacher looked up and saw this.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPvYJ5LTGLOImbhz6C01_0fMlkIPLsyc4iUvavZ8XlZGeiTQqKMM1X_fAcG2q9RaTFD6mfIBqiwhzXdWL4dw64Hcau9UBtog3ePAwCxU07Np58qeSpCIUsB0xwXnZpeo5AZj6-afpc5XPb/s1600/IMG_20190105_152258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPvYJ5LTGLOImbhz6C01_0fMlkIPLsyc4iUvavZ8XlZGeiTQqKMM1X_fAcG2q9RaTFD6mfIBqiwhzXdWL4dw64Hcau9UBtog3ePAwCxU07Np58qeSpCIUsB0xwXnZpeo5AZj6-afpc5XPb/s400/IMG_20190105_152258.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">He didn't know what it was at first but then realized it was a rainbow around the sun. But you could only witness this when you were below these rocks. If you looked at the sun full on you could not see the rainbow.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After we had all came back together and were sitting around a table enjoying a BBQ meal at a local restaurant, the Preacher began to show me the pictures he had taken while hiking. He was very excited to show me the one of the rainbow around the sun.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As soon as I saw that rainbow I began to tear up because I had remembered my plea to the Lord –Please keep Your promises. I knew that this was a sign from the Lord. He was showing me, us, that He does not forget His promises. </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The Preacher didn't know what I had wrote. He didn't know my plea to the Lord, so I told him the story. We</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> knew that whatever was going to happen He would be there for us. He was confirming to us that we are not alone in our darkest hours. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">P.S The Preacher looked it up and the phenomena that he witnessed is actually called a Sun Dog Rainbow.</span><br />
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the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-77594261212787562152019-02-26T15:51:00.001-07:002019-02-26T15:51:28.058-07:00stand firm<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Have you ever felt like Satan was on your door-step and just wouldn't stop knocking, even pounding, on your door? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One day, a year or so ago, we heard and saw what Satan was wanting to do to our family. The day after, I woke up feeling very depressed and felt like I couldn't get out of bed. I lay there praying, pleading, begging God to remove this from our family. I finally had enough, I needed to get my mind in a different place. So I decided to pick up my phone and check out Pinterest. I had to have something that was mindless. The very first picture on my Pinterest feed was this scripture -- (Don't tell me God can't use anything and everything, even a phone app.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>"You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions, stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will give you...do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out and face them tomorrow, and the Lord will be with you."</i> 2 Chronicles 20:17</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I knew this was His promise to me. I took that verse and wrote it on everything. I wrote it on my bathroom mirror so I would see it when I got up in the morning and when I went to bed at night. I wrote it on the blackboard that hangs in our home. I wrote it on a post-it note and put it on my computer so that I would see it while I worked. Daily I was reminding myself of His Word, His promise.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">He also gave me the scripture in Ephesians 6 - <i>Put on the full armor of God</i>. I knew that is what He was telling me to do when He said to take up your positions. He was telling me to put on my armor which is His armor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Also through this ordeal, the Lord gave me a word and that word was <i>suddenly</i>. I saw it in Bible verses. I heard it in teachings. I read it in books. This is one of the quotes that the Lord sent to me, </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>"God says that He has already spoken to the right people. He has already lined up the healing, the freedom. It's going to happen suddenly." </i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The word suddenly was all over the place and I knew that it was for us. And when the end came it felt like it ended <i>suddenly</i>!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We took up our positions. We continued to pray everyday. I dug deep into His </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Word. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Looking back, I realize that the Lord answered my prayer, my pleading, my begging on that first day. He answered me suddenly with His Word - <i>you will not have to fight this battle.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We also had others who were fighting for us through all of this. Many of our friends and family were praying hard right along with us. I saw and heard things that I know could only have been from God. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A year later here we are. This battle is over. The Lord was, is and always will be victorious. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I have learned so much about my faith and who He is and I will not stop praising Him, I will tell the world of this victory, and what mighty things He can do.</span><br />
<br />the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-84670720725792152072019-02-22T14:07:00.000-07:002019-02-22T14:07:18.341-07:00front door<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I am a homebody. There is nothing I like to do more than walk through my front door at the end of a long day and close it behind me. At home I am embraced by a little world of my own creativeness, surrounded by the things that I love, need, want, and find beautiful. That is what our homes are, after all -- our own personal worlds that we have made for ourselves."</span></i> - Leslie Williamson</blockquote>
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<br />the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6387220833471695733.post-4005843532432370402019-02-08T13:28:00.000-07:002019-02-08T13:29:16.495-07:00whiter than snow<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">For the last couple of days the trees have just been so beautiful encased in their icy, snowy cocoons. This scripture comes to my mind whenever I look upon the pine trees with their snow icing.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; text-align: center;"> </span></blockquote>
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the preacher and ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03808971111930817696noreply@blogger.com0