tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593189584370190942024-03-05T23:37:21.026-05:00A Home is a little world"Home is a little world, where the duties of the great world are daily rehearsed." ~from The Golden Gems of Life, 1883Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-77349656727610890022020-03-12T10:24:00.001-04:002020-03-31T09:14:44.074-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dearest mother, I know it’s hard. It’s hard to keep your eyes open
and really see your child. Mothers so often see with their heart and this
clouds reality. Your child desperately wants to know where the boundary lines
are drawn and she looks hourly to you for the answer.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You deceive yourself if you think your kindness is always
goodness, or your sweet softness is always beneficial to your child. In the
words of Teddy Roosevelt on his view of foreign policy, “Speak softly and carry
a big stick.” The truly kind mother would never let naughtiness take root and
blossom in the heart of her child. The truly loving mother would never allow
her child to disobey a clear and thoughtful command thereby fortifying his will
with the barbs of obstinancy. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gentleness mingled with firmness and consistency will safely
guide you and your child in the way. Fearfully and wonderfully made are the
children indeed. As you sit at the feet of Jesus you will see the wonders of
His calling on your life as “Mother.” Into your hands is given the grand
possibility of helping to nurture a life created to bring glory to God’s name.
Training begins now. Your business this day is vital.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<span style="background-color: #f8f8da;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Ecclesiastes 8:11, "Because sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil."</i></span></span>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-80543547479433823862019-10-30T10:29:00.001-04:002019-11-04T08:30:51.551-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1WSPMd_zDfZlj8bvjEumrx4FzxSGtxYFu1vVqSCskYgpKMS9vwsR_9N5vglGDBEclVlpFVqSk_LSUK-beyNB9TbZtuvc5Pu1UWJv2j2gecd6QtjB7C-LdjXmYbnIyKvsbPIZlZZfp1NvS/s1600/2019-10-30_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="855" data-original-width="1600" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1WSPMd_zDfZlj8bvjEumrx4FzxSGtxYFu1vVqSCskYgpKMS9vwsR_9N5vglGDBEclVlpFVqSk_LSUK-beyNB9TbZtuvc5Pu1UWJv2j2gecd6QtjB7C-LdjXmYbnIyKvsbPIZlZZfp1NvS/s640/2019-10-30_0001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Toccata and Fugue in
D Minor, BWV 565 Johann Sebastian Bach<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
October
25, 2019, 7:00pm<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
at
Calvary Church 27 Church Street, Stonington, CT<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The organ’s
notes descend from the lofty heights; cascading down in torrents of inspiration
upon our blessed heads in a chapel of wood and white and light robin’s egg
blue. A scant seventy souls have gathered on this Friday evening to partake in
the splendor of live, fine music. The building could hold twice, maybe thrice
our number. Twenty dollars has bought such accomplished mastery, the hearing of
such a divine offering by Mr. Bach himself—a song of worship that has served as
background music in the Great Conversation that has stretched across time. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The organ sings gloriously from its
balcony perch. Skillfully the organist’s hands play the inspiration of an
ancient sage. Nimbly his fingers pounce upon the keys and cause the notes to
vibrate forth into the night air, forth into our very being. The lower notes
rumble and roll their way into my chest. Forward blast the notes rushing forth
in space and time; recalling to my listening ears the reality of the ever-flowing stream
of time rushing forward; faster and faster the sound courses through
the sturdy wooden building and into our feeble fleshly frame. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Time passes and carves lines upon
our face and scars upon our heart; mercilessly rumbling and rolling forward
ceasing not its somber tones. Back and forth rock the hands of the organist; up
and down race the notes, race my breaths and the beating of my heart. Up and
down fly the organist’s hands; fly up and down as quickly as move the moments of
my days. Dear God, give me time, an extended measure, a lengthy bar! Let me not
depart this house wherein I am so temporarily confined without a completed song
of praise to Your blessed Name!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Arching,
falling, rising —streams of praise pour forth from moving though silent lips and beating
vibrant hearts, from strings and wood, from metal pipes and channeled air. The
chapel is filling as new wine in a cup and brimming over with noble thoughts
and purest notes to deliver an appropriate sonnet of thanksgiving and humble
adoration to the God for whom these meticulously carved wooden arches point upward. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Instruments harmoniously weave
their utterances of glory, silent voices of mind and heart join in the creation
of this tapestry of praise. Oh, for a thousand tongues to sing! As Bach
dedicated all his music Ad Dei Glorium —To the Glory of God— so too will I
dedicate the music of my life to Him who is worthy of all.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-51572138104485703452019-06-13T22:11:00.000-04:002019-06-13T22:11:32.154-04:00Because Thou Art a Wrestler<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbl5ne5QXkfgkiuE8nwocTGoo86loCDRPNkrGvomgBwO35PpPXg5hBT9DcQ3DYlc1_AOS2vvypTnua7hOLr1dre3-xOpWbCPJfoNa8mGURPiKru1EyAhn-ZvTkl3_NIbaVbzpzKruDYZDL/s1600/DSC07353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbl5ne5QXkfgkiuE8nwocTGoo86loCDRPNkrGvomgBwO35PpPXg5hBT9DcQ3DYlc1_AOS2vvypTnua7hOLr1dre3-xOpWbCPJfoNa8mGURPiKru1EyAhn-ZvTkl3_NIbaVbzpzKruDYZDL/s640/DSC07353.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span class="one-click"><span style="background: white; color: #1a1a1a; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“This is a ground of consolation to the
weak Christian, who disputes against the truth of his grace, for the inward
conflicts and fightings he hath with his lusts, and is ready to say like
Gideon, in regard of outward enemies, ‘If God be with me, why is all this
befallen me?’ Why do I find such strugglings in me, provoking me to sin,
pulling me back from that which is good? <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="one-click"><span style="background: white; color: #1a1a1a; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="one-click"><span style="background: white; color: #1a1a1a; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Why dost thou ask? The answer is soon
given; <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">because thou art a wrestler, not
a conqueror</b>. Thou mistakest the state of a Christian in this life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When one is made a Christian, he is not
presently called to triumph over his slain enemies, but carried into the field
to meet and fight them. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="one-click"><span style="background: white; color: #1a1a1a; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"The state of grace is the commencing of a
war against sin, not the ending of it; rather than thou shalt not have an enemy
to wrestle with, God himself will come in a disguise into the field, and appear
to be thine enemy. Thus when Jacob was alone, a man wrestled with hi until
breaking of the day; and therefore set thy heart at rest if this be thy
scruple. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="one-click"><span style="background: white; color: #1a1a1a; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="one-click"><span style="background: white; color: #1a1a1a; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Thy soul may rather take comfort in this,
that thou art a wrestler. This struggling within thee, if upon the right
ground, and to the right end, doth evidence there are two nations within thee,
two contrary natures, the one from earth, earthly, and the other from heaven,
heavenly; yea, for thy further comfort, know that though thy corrupt nature be
the elder, yet it shall serve the younger.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="one-click"><span style="background: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="one-click"><span style="background: white; color: #1a1a1a; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">William Gurnall, 17th century wrestler</span></span></span></div>
<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-51119624776477254682019-03-21T10:12:00.000-04:002019-07-09T20:12:21.139-04:00Four Important Rules For Children... and their parents<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBW8knhvLvXnsemLp2UugBcXlgTIYqWMcCqIIQWNZayK7Z11ZD0Y0kOr1G70_F_8UjDy9jI9lvh2eN04iH3AiZwcGlEHdS8ca1GKXh_Mf8zE4OdeKrI7KGYIUajVPti7scVSsyEDYxzf6n/s1600/Anger_Park+Candids-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBW8knhvLvXnsemLp2UugBcXlgTIYqWMcCqIIQWNZayK7Z11ZD0Y0kOr1G70_F_8UjDy9jI9lvh2eN04iH3AiZwcGlEHdS8ca1GKXh_Mf8zE4OdeKrI7KGYIUajVPti7scVSsyEDYxzf6n/s400/Anger_Park+Candids-16.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben and Emily, October 21, 2017</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-BGwIbNWEAWGKfEk37G-xx99mXVVxtZyr1vYxMBdVFYIw7M07Xx_qYJoH1c_LrUT2DSIn9kX7SVq4iJ4xJG9jGMplJH8A7Th8N2a2JJ53ldjtWsfc7LxmDbRt8joGLEyZm8lIkq-Kvt93/s1600/DSC_2273-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-BGwIbNWEAWGKfEk37G-xx99mXVVxtZyr1vYxMBdVFYIw7M07Xx_qYJoH1c_LrUT2DSIn9kX7SVq4iJ4xJG9jGMplJH8A7Th8N2a2JJ53ldjtWsfc7LxmDbRt8joGLEyZm8lIkq-Kvt93/s640/DSC_2273-Edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matthew and Dyanna, October 24, 2015</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">1. Always say, "Please" and "Thank you".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">2. Be on time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">3. Keep your promises.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">4. Finish what you start.</span>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-53056253958462850462018-12-31T14:50:00.001-05:002019-01-24T15:17:44.775-05:00In the thick of it (a humorous essay)<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Do you know how tired I
am of people grouping me with those that don’t work? Yesterday, after a
particularly trying incident, I imagined the scene as I would have liked to
respond.</span></span></i></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%;">Says
the stern-faced woman to me in a nasally tone over the brim of her glasses,
“So, you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">don’t</i> work, Mrs. Roy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%;">Our
eyes lock for a moment. My lips tighten as I adjust the fidgeting toddler on my
lap. “No, ma’am, I can’t possibly work after I’ve planned for and prepared
meals for six people at regular intervals throughout each and every day;
maintained the never-ending laundry division of the home; supervised all
sanitation aspects of our little haven of rest; sought clothing for the
inmates; protected and reviewed the financial expenditures of the days, weeks, and
months; looked after the health of the bodies that dwell together in these very
quaint, close quarters; single-handedly tutored four little people that possess
a whole kaleidoscope of learning styles; handled the disciplinary issues that
arise multiple times during the course of the day while diligently and often
quickly formulating the character deficiencies of each being (including my own),
and having done so, contemplated the strengths and weaknesses of each all the
while continuing to create an ever-changing plan to deal with them; and last
but not least, prepare to discuss all of these happenings at the end of every
day with my superior who, himself, is trying to maintain a business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No—I couldn’t possibly add work to my
life.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Elizabeth Roy,
2009</span><span style="font-family: "high tower text" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-16929949965322959332018-11-09T12:22:00.002-05:002018-11-09T12:22:28.193-05:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrcvxesarzmgMP19pIi3IUn-xHS8EOcc5NndylNiDfRN3QIDP7LrOnt1mbEwq9RpaGfiQicmWqsIFih8s83EXAMxMXHN1iR-ONd6r3pvstq5cMlaYTZ0doBUBX1Ivli50uab3mTfRzp64y/s1600/DSC_1020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrcvxesarzmgMP19pIi3IUn-xHS8EOcc5NndylNiDfRN3QIDP7LrOnt1mbEwq9RpaGfiQicmWqsIFih8s83EXAMxMXHN1iR-ONd6r3pvstq5cMlaYTZ0doBUBX1Ivli50uab3mTfRzp64y/s400/DSC_1020.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-size: medium;">
"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, </div>
<div style="font-size: medium;">
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,</div>
<div style="font-size: medium;">
There is society, where none intrudes,</div>
<div style="font-size: medium;">
By the deep sea and music in its roar:</div>
<div style="font-size: medium;">
I love not man the less,</div>
<div style="font-size: medium;">
But nature more."</div>
<div style="font-size: medium;">
Lord Byron</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-1187919466519454972018-09-09T16:07:00.003-04:002018-09-09T16:07:42.071-04:00Ask and ye shall receive<div style="text-align: center;">
"I go to books and to nature as a bee goes to the flower,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
for a nectar that I can make into my own honey." </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
John Burroughs</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Morning. Ten thousands of tiny droplets gush forth from the belly of the sky and splash a thousand upturned leaves and grasses and budding things. The sun breaks through the clouds and the shadows of birds flit across the page of my journal laid open on my lap. The shadows of my own hand and pen dancing with the songbirds of the morning light. Sitting still here on the porch, I listen, and the birds' songs invade my thoughts and penetrate my heart. Such familiar sounds, yet the newness and enchantment of their call never fades. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
A brazen Blue Jay lands nearby. His eye on me and mine on him. He speaks tersely to me in some dialect of the Blue Jay Tribe. Enough said and off he goes to assault other ears perhaps more keen than mine. The thrill of the close encounter induces a child-like smile across my face.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Ah! suddenly, piercing the cacophony of Aves' notes there rises in clear tones above the others the beloved song of the Wood Thrush. A flute-like trill characterizes a portion of his blessed song. I close my eyes and praise the God of the song. I move to the other end of the porch as his song draws me closer, but, alas, like a phantom he moves on and I am left alone, yearning, gazing into the woods. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Oh, how I long to see this elusive creature of the deeper wood. "Lord, you know how I love the sound of the Wood Thrush and how I long to catch just a glimpse of him. I am content to hear him, yea, overjoyed to hear him, but, oh, how nice it would be to see him as well!" Indeed, I think that perhaps the unfulfilled longing is meant to teach me that my deepest longings can never be fulfilled here on earth.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Next day. Same porch. With Bible open I am distracted by the scene of a Black-Capped Chickadee chasing and deftly catching a moth in mid-air. I regain control of my attention and return to the pages before me. It feels like rain. It smells like rain. The scent of the Lilacs is heavy and hanging in the dewy air. The pages of my journal have a damp weight to them this morning; even the ink of the pen feels heavier. I thank God for the impending shower and for the little bright green leaves that seem to have popped out overnight.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Again, my eyes return to the open Book. Without warning, a loud thud to my direct left startles me. I know the sound immediately. I have heard it before but from the inside of our house, never from the outside, and certainly not 3 feet from where I sit. It is the sound of a bird flying into the clear glass of a window. I turn quickly enough to see its limp body fall to the porch floor with a stunned chirp. Amazed, I leap up from my seat and realize immediately that before me lays none other than a Wood Thrush. My hands rush to my face as I gasp and then to my heart. In that moment I felt as if the Lord had said, "You want to see a Wood Thrush? Here you go!" and with divine precision that poor Wood Thrush was hurled into our living room window. </div>
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Dazed and confused the bird lay on its side, beak open, eyes closed. I was completely in awe. Didn't I ask for this? But, oh, to see it <i>like this</i>? I immediately got down close to him and began to pray. "Oh, thank you, thank you God, for this rare opportunity but please, oh, please don't let him die! I wanted to see him and I thank you but, please let him live!" </div>
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The bird righted itself on its unbelievably skinny little legs. His beak remained open and his head was tipped all the way back and his eyes remained closed. For the next 15 minutes I stayed near him. I lay flat on my stomach on that porch floor looking at this wonder of song. Such a small creature yet out from it flows such a large song full of depth and beauty. Its cloak of brown feathers with its underbelly of speckled white is quite unremarkable. It belies the depth of beauty found within its breast.</div>
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Eventually, his eyes opened and there we sat staring at one another. Me and a Wood Thrush, face to face, not 2 feet between us. I've enjoyed his song for years on this property but have never seen him. What a wonder, I mentioned it to my God yesterday and He arranged for a meeting today. My heart was filled, simply filled with the beauty and nearness of this creature and with the God who threw him into my window that morning. </div>
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All at once my winged visitor shook its head, gave one last look, and off he flew. My mouth closed with a sacred sense of awareness and my heart burst wide with gratitude. "...For your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things." </div>
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"Delight thyself also in the LORD; and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart."</div>
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Psalm 37:4<br />
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<i>Some people think God's voice booms like the roar of the ocean waves. I think it sounds like a Wood Thrush in the early, dewy morning just out of sight in a wooded glen.</i><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvJdvYcAe8cD_5zDNZsnBHpPOrWtjPy8-xc1q-N06oCrBx4aNNAtVcwqaebCHqOe8f8SQ9py3-wlTdFYd6uaLXjtwZXNw6vtviTT2zDhd-MXoMe5vRQfQSvtemnV15XIYXHdiq-V0KFrk-/s1600/Screenshot_2018-08-20-12-35-24.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvJdvYcAe8cD_5zDNZsnBHpPOrWtjPy8-xc1q-N06oCrBx4aNNAtVcwqaebCHqOe8f8SQ9py3-wlTdFYd6uaLXjtwZXNw6vtviTT2zDhd-MXoMe5vRQfQSvtemnV15XIYXHdiq-V0KFrk-/s320/Screenshot_2018-08-20-12-35-24.png" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wood Thrush</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-49539978990122787222018-09-09T16:07:00.002-04:002018-09-09T16:09:40.418-04:00God supplies. You build.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVCxDa93m9PjRL7knG6RC3aydv-X1DbJIMUkO_axBOBxIU0vbKnof5nkOPYTf1s2IByPA5TJzQntBtrj0QPlZjgN5-BdIWwyQ5ifijpjI1PhC0WdH6T_GeE8oHuQ2huJq2k6saYtKn1Kd0/s1600/154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVCxDa93m9PjRL7knG6RC3aydv-X1DbJIMUkO_axBOBxIU0vbKnof5nkOPYTf1s2IByPA5TJzQntBtrj0QPlZjgN5-BdIWwyQ5ifijpjI1PhC0WdH6T_GeE8oHuQ2huJq2k6saYtKn1Kd0/s640/154.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fonthill<br />
Doylestown, Penna.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<i>It was several years ago now, but I can still see it all so clearly...</i></div>
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I sit in the small, well-lit studio of the accomplished musician turned voice teacher. Her beautiful piano sings and her voice accompanies it. The ease with which she plays upon the keys is mesmerizing and the way her voice reaches into my spirit and sends it soaring upon the wind, like a colorful kite against the deep blue sky, is simply enchanting.</div>
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I listen to my son, whose voice has always mingled words and song, concentrate his powers upon a single, simple melody of, "Give Me Wings." It becomes, to me, a moment suspended in time; an act of worship and adoration of the gracious God I serve. All present fade into the background as I hear only the notes of sweetest tones; all of my powers of attention are now focused on my dear Father. I take a picture with my mind and with my pen. I never want to forget this precious moment and the truth my Father is about to teach me. I hurriedly imprint the following words upon a scrap of paper: <span style="text-align: center;">"O, Dearest Lord, help me! </span>Give me the strength, the tools I need to build this life of mine into a monument to Your grace."</div>
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I realize that God has provided the supplies to build a life and that I must devote myself to the sacred task of making, not just <i>something</i> of my life, but a monument of praise to Him. </div>
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In order to erect anything of sustainability, beauty, or of any value at all, one must set forth with a distinct purpose, create a definite plan of action, and then follow through with diligent effort. The joy of the Lord is to be my strength as I carry out my task. Literally, the gladness of Jehovah will be my place of safety, my refuge and protection.<br />
<br />
The fact that God gives us the ability and the free choice to build is remarkable! There is such freedom in the Christian life! God has laid the supplies at our feet and we may make of them whatever we wish. To God be the glory!</div>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-40575349363821183892018-09-09T16:07:00.001-04:002018-09-09T16:10:02.226-04:00Stepping Into Another World<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggSyueizp1zCgbRtv_bxJragYQeeMY8oK8BVMknVOH-WVnXn-d6dwrvf91BW34iYPYsxbVNQGet0beLGBHWnQd6to7_prDy_7lzJ67b2sZ7_JvJX3vcA8H_vyIednEOTcYfQVYcHtsHi-o/s1600/DSC_2947-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggSyueizp1zCgbRtv_bxJragYQeeMY8oK8BVMknVOH-WVnXn-d6dwrvf91BW34iYPYsxbVNQGet0beLGBHWnQd6to7_prDy_7lzJ67b2sZ7_JvJX3vcA8H_vyIednEOTcYfQVYcHtsHi-o/s640/DSC_2947-Edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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"Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need." Hebrews 4:16</div>
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<i> Come along with me as I step into another world. My Dear Father has requested my presence in His Throne room of Grace. Bow your head, your knee, your heart and enter in with me. In the air, as a heavy perfume, hangs love, mercy and grace. Leave your sins at the door, and bring your cares before the King. Out of the world that you see into the world that you believe.</i></div>
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He has sent the invitation and upon my arrival He inclines His ear unto my feeble speech. How can this be that I am here, that I have gained entrance to One so Dear? Ah yes, it is a mutual acquaintance of ours that has introduced us: Jesus Christ, His beloved Son, my beloved Saviour. Blessed be His Name! I tremble to think that my words, yea, my jagged, unformed thoughts are heard and understood. This knowledge brings me low as I prostrate my being before Him who holds my all in His hand. </div>
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My journey upon this earth brings me in very close contact to that which my eye cannot see, and yet my spirit is keenly aware of its presence. In the physical attack of germs my body mounts a clear defense and the war is felt in my body as I ache and fever. In the spiritual attack of the forces of the dark, my spirit feels the oppression of fear, doubt, discouragement and dismay. As the assault gains momentum I reach for that which will protect and defend me: Truth, Righteousness, Love, Faith, Assurance of salvation and the Living Word of God. (Ephesians 6:13-17) The attackers dissipate like a vapor of smoke or a mirage as I move towards them in faith and in full armor. </div>
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It is so like The Accuser to prop up imaginations and transient feelings in my path and expect me to cower before them. They are, just like he is, confined and constrained by the good hand of God. <i>"Yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit. They that see thee shall narrowly look upon thee, and consider thee, saying, 'Is this the man that made the earth to tremble, that did shake kingdoms; that made the world as a wilderness, and destroyed the cities thereof; that opened not the house of his prisoners?" (Isaiah 14:15-17)</i> Narrowly our eyes shall squint in amazement and disbelief of the wretched littleness of the evil one and the power that we ourselves gave to his monstrous apparitions and devices. </div>
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The sweet hour of prayer, this grand invitation to do battle in the realm of that other world and have the effects of our strategic skirmishes propelled into and alter this present reality! If I truly believed that my private communion with God unleashes His host to do battle on my behalf I would run into His presence. To have faith sounds like I have something, literally a noun, a thing; but I rather think faith is a verb. It is seen in our actions. </div>
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Are you listening? You are being summoned.</div>
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<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-54990705144948465302018-08-16T12:02:00.001-04:002019-02-22T07:48:35.510-05:00The Importance of Printing Your Photographs<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQIo9-kH_bHvpKBL1HKuJzboBqFEv0m0LghoEMQjsU7AmaOFvK49TiRcUBLdz0n-W35xdEQM8d1hTgZ-0AY_aBimpM5Yh78uMTS4nw99pzxrLCeuSXXyUK5O55ImPGRYpRtz07DwI2VEH/s1600/2018-08-16_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="702" data-original-width="1542" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDQIo9-kH_bHvpKBL1HKuJzboBqFEv0m0LghoEMQjsU7AmaOFvK49TiRcUBLdz0n-W35xdEQM8d1hTgZ-0AY_aBimpM5Yh78uMTS4nw99pzxrLCeuSXXyUK5O55ImPGRYpRtz07DwI2VEH/s640/2018-08-16_0001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Footprints in the sand leading to
my 3 year old son filled with awe at the vast expanse of water before him.
Click. Three children perched upon a bench outside our home in their Sunday
best laughing, poking, fidgeting; all eyes fixed upon my lens for a brief
moment. Click. My daughter, now a bride, shyly glances down to her bouquet
while in the arms of her beloved. Click.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Click, click, click! As droplets of
water make the ocean; as little grains of sand make the beach, one photograph
taken and printed, added to the next photograph taken and printed, and so on create a priceless yet
tangible memorial of a life; your life, your one precious amazing life. The
birth of a baby, the graduation of a son, the first tulip of spring or the
laughing children playing in puddles after a storm; these are the moments that
make up our life. And, when collected, properly printed and properly stored or
displayed, these moments can be relived again and again and again. When memory
fails us the printed photograph can transport us back in time to smell, hear,
feel and see things that have forever changed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The power to stand still the hands
of time? To scoop a moment from the fast moving stream of life and preserve it
and hold it in your hands, fixing it unchanged for a lifetime? What a gift!
What a power! What a privilege!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I am approaching my 50<sup>th</sup>
year walking on this earth, feeling life with all its extremes of joy and pain,
love and loss, trials and victories, mountain tops and valleys. With 27 years
of marriage under my belt, 4 children raised and homeschooled from Kindergarten
through high school graduation, and a new baby granddaughter, I have had a lot
of experience with life. I consider myself one of the fortunate ones that felt,
early on, the need to immortalize the mortal, to lay a trap for the Time Bandit
and capture stray moments to keep and to cherish for all my days. I have faithfully
photographed the stages of our life and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">have
made sure to print</i> a large number of those images along the way. I have
chosen to preserve them in a scrapbook style, or by framing them and hanging on
the walls of our home, or by placing them in safe and proper photo albums or by
keeping them in boxes under our bed. My printed photographs are among some of
my most cherished possessions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">How many of you have tearfully
tried to gather a few photographs of a recently departed loved one? A decent,
true to life portrait that reflects back to you the love and the warmth of the
person they were? How many actual, printed photographs do you have of yourself
or of your children? In a generation of selfie-taking, Facebook-posting,
Instagramming people, there seems to be an incredible dearth of actual, printed
photographs; printed, physical images to be passed on from one generation to
another. So, for a generation that takes so many pictures, how many of them
will actually be able to be viewed by future generations? I heard someone say
once, “In 50 years, the most photographed generation in history will have no
pictures. Print what you want to preserve.” I agree.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Here’s an example of what to do
with your printed images: hang them on ribbon boards or something similar. </span><span style="font-size: 16px;">Two boards hang on our bedroom wall. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">I call these my portals of time. Flanking my bureau they stand as two pillars, monuments of
what makes us, us. These are printed reminders of why we are called a family
and what that means forevermore. The past and the present intermingle here on
one board. Moments held suspended in time on photographic paper gingerly tacked
to a board on our wall.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Moments that have traveled through
the bottleneck of the hourglass should be viewed with gratitude and not only as
a window to our past, but also to our future. I look through these portals of
time to see who I was and who I am and Whose I am by seeing where I’ve been and
this solidifies a vision of where I am going and who I long to be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I highly recommend finding the
images of your past and placing them in your present; right before your face. I
frequently stop and stare at these wonders, at these images that remind me of
my position as wife, mother, daughter, sister. This reflection reminds me why I
want to improve myself, to keep climbing upward and onward, and that I want to
collect more memories to add to our wall. It reminds me to actively create the
moments that we will want to capture and then pin to our wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Sometimes I find my husband
stopping to look through these portals. My children, too, will occasionally be
drawn to the boards as they notice a new image or two that has been added. When
they do, they stop and stare. Their eyes drift from one image to the next, with
a smile upon their face. They will point one out and vocalize <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">their</i> perspective of the memory. Often
these comments produce laughter and, inevitable, warmth between the souls in
the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Here’s another method of preserving
images: Black Page Scrapbooks. Our scrapbooks wonderful examples of moments of life that
have been plucked and preserved. My idea for using black pages came from my
grandfather’s photo album. His measured about 6” x 9” with small photos mounted
using black photo corners. A white ink was used to identify people and dates.
It fascinated me to look into the eyes of my great-great-grandfather through a
picture taken so long ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIuRIoaSybt9kbS9lHoLpoPaZHbd0n4iywwbgpFoIdMjZSLNCYKnMXlxkpKwBJDuZC2Jbdhnk06e3il90FNjF_fo4k3cq26ypvtW29gB68BObxDVjbCCZaurubREU6XB3uFhAc9d7ipoq/s1600/2018-08-16_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1046" data-original-width="1542" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIuRIoaSybt9kbS9lHoLpoPaZHbd0n4iywwbgpFoIdMjZSLNCYKnMXlxkpKwBJDuZC2Jbdhnk06e3il90FNjF_fo4k3cq26ypvtW29gB68BObxDVjbCCZaurubREU6XB3uFhAc9d7ipoq/s640/2018-08-16_0003.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">In our scrapbooks, poetry and pictures,
quotes and homeschool work, notes and cards all mix together to tell our
story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These become a valuable piece of
family history that truly is a legacy that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">will
be passed on from one generation to the next</i>. And, in the meantime, they
provide much amusement and generate feelings of warmth and unity among our
family. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Now, how to create these pictures? Follow a few simples rules. Pictures of people are interesting. Great pictures of people are fascinating. I
don’t know what it is about the printed picture, but people of all ages will
pause and take in that encapsulated moment of time. You can be a creator of
such treasures! Great portraits are a side effect of a strong human connection.
And creating wonderful images can be very rewarding in many different ways.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">So what makes a good image? I have
four ideas. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Bookman Old Style"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">a.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Simple lines. According to Coco Chanel, "Simplicity is the keynote of all true elegance." Think of the photograph you are creating as a piece of art. Think of the end result, the message you want to convey. Blend colors and textures in your viewfinder just as the artists selects and mixes colors.<br /><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -0.25in;">b.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -0.25in;">No distracting clothing or background. It's good to have one main subject in your photograph. Your subject could be a group of people or an individual, but the viewer should know right away what the subject is. Sometimes it is important to keep your subject in context and include their immediate environment, but don't allow the environment to eclipse your subject.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Bookman Old Style"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Bookman Old Style";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">c.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Traditional Arabic"; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">True connection of the subject to the one viewing the
photograph or to another person within the photograph. </span><span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">Focus on the eyes and capture the soul!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.6667px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level2 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.6667px; text-indent: -0.25in;">d. Try p</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">hotographing ideas not just people
or things. Ex: motherhood, love, devotion, bravery, etc.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">People ever change; photos <i>that are
well printed and well preserved</i> ever remain the same. Once you understand the
transient nature of life; that all around you is constantly changing and that
nothing around you today will be the same in a few tomorrows, then you will
understand the preciousness of the printed photograph. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Take those pictures and print those
pictures because photo paper memories don’t fade like our own memories. Oh,
and, no one is going to pass down a USB drive from generation to generation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-77633373630713350952018-07-14T11:23:00.000-04:002018-08-20T19:42:58.414-04:00Breath. No breath.<br />
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Nine o’clock
in the evening. My husband and I walk the wide corridor of the ICU. Just over
an hour ago we were on our way home from dinner with expectations of a quiet
evening, now we meet the eyes of concentrating nurses and weary doctors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was a text
from my friend that changed everything that night: “Mom went into cardiac
arrest Tuesday night. She is in ICU. Doesn’t look good. I’m sorry I haven’t
kept in touch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Here it is room
410. I’ve never been to this hospital before. It’s clean. It’s cold. We turn
the corner. Suddenly I sense the looming presence of something very dark,
something very cold. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As the wide
glass door to the room is opened and the curtain pulled back I notice some
things: the patient’s eyes are closed; tubes and wires pump the semblance of
life into her, artificially heaving the chest and pumping the blood round her
mortal shell; the adult children’s eyes are fixed upon the doctor that speaks
as he utters syllables in a non-committal tone while the nurses are bustling
about with a sterile concern upon their faces. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I see my
friend. She is a grown woman, now in her mid-thirties, but I still see her as a
little girl. I was the family babysitter from the time she was an infant to the
age of nine. Eventually life separated us. We went for so long without seeing
each other, and even though we have spent some time together in the last 3
years, time in my heart stood still. She walks toward me. Hair is tussled and
her face is tired from crying. I hold her close and she cries. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ah, now I
see the other one, her brother. Though he too is grown, I see not the signs of
the years that have passed, only his boyish smile and sweet eyes; eyes that, in
the years of my absence, have seen war and death and the rejection of the
father that walked away from his young children. We hug. He thanks us for
coming. He is a boy in the body of a man and she is a little girl trying to be
a mommy and a wife.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I move
toward the bed. There lies their mother. I realize very quickly that these two
will soon be orphans. I see the death like stare in the eye that the doctor
opens to help evaluate her condition. Her hands are swollen and are an odd
color. Never have I witnessed such a scene before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I look toward
my friend who is desperately watching her mother. The girl within the woman
cries out loud, “I’m so scared! Oh, mom, I’m so scared!” The boy within the man
sits down with his head between his hands and says, “I’m losing my best friend
and my mother all at once.” He sobs and sobs, “I couldn’t save her!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The boy was
with his mother when she had a massive heart attack. He called for help and
proceeded to perform CPR until that help arrived. He had done the same thing
for a fellow soldier in Iraq when two bullets pierced the heart. That soldier
miraculously survived and he hoped for a similar outcome with his mother. The
boy has been by her side since the heart attack, even sleeping in that very
room on a window bench. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Talk of a “Do
Not Resuscitate” order and of what mom would have wanted swirl about the room.
The weight of decision presses down heavily upon the boy and the girl. Time has
moved too quickly. The final grains of the hourglass of life tumble down the
narrow passage; life and time rush to an end. Past and present rush together as
two streams merging in a rocky place. Regrets and remembrances clamor for attention
in the panicked minds of loved ones. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Wild is the
storm that is rages as the mouth of eternity opens for another soul! My mind returns
to another stormy night when the three of us huddled together in a large closet
with a flashlight and prayed that the violent summer storm would pass and that
mommy and daddy would come home quickly. Heart wrenching are the cries of grief!
I long to hold them now and comfort them; to say a pray and to wipe their tears
away and distract them with a treat or a toy or a favorite show and tell them
it will all be okay. What a wild storm that whips through this room tonight! One
will not survive it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We huddle
together again and pray. The girl curls up in the lap of the boy and they hold
each other tightly as they weep. The vital signs are erratic now. The girl
presses her head to her mother’s and cries, “It’s okay mom, you can let go,”
all the while wishing she wouldn’t leave. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I notice the
nurse has turned the monitor with the vital signs away from us. She alone is
watching it with fixed eyes and a closed hand pressed to her face. We hold each
other. We stand round the mother. I notice her hands, they are a strange blue.
“Oh, dearest God, have mercy,” I pray. The children weep. Her arms are now like
her hands. The pumps have stopped. Her body is still. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A doctor
enters the room amidst the weeping and puts his stethoscope to her chest, looks
up to us and shakes his head. “I’m very sorry,” he says. The storm has given
wing to a spirit tonight and in its wake is an eerie calm broken only by sobbing.
Sixty-eight years of life and breath; and then there was none.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Indeed, a
thin veil is draped between the present and eternity. An imperceptible moment
it is when the soul takes its flight to regions beyond. A birth, and there is
noise and life and hopes and dreams; a death, and there is silence and loss and
nothing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A shell of
man lying before us reminds those of us whose shells are still inhabited that
we too will face the silencing of our life song; that we who remain should live
and move and breathe and love. Breath. No breath. In the land of the living may
this precious substance of breath, the most precious of temporary gifts, be
used to convey our love to God and to man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The final
note of praise in the grand musical score of the Psalms sounds like this: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Let every thing that hath breath praise the
LORD. Praise ye the LORD.”</i> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>May this
note be the constant of our life, and may it be the note that forms our life
song; and may this song form the bridge from this life to the next as we join
the chorus of the ages in the glad and sweet refrain of, “Blessing and honor,
and glory, and power be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the
Lamb for ever and ever,” as our faith is turned to sight. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizTssk3bTDgqJ2mk5h3gdkICA27yklhyphenhyphenMMyp9OvR_-AcktXUDqqVESGGbBvQtFgrpli3I4q1U_HOdZHQ32q0E-Ya-hQGvLf32w_DRwVjqGTkvOqIRv88oDBm0EIAjvbKpbxH0GglwveAYg/s1600/DSC_4340-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizTssk3bTDgqJ2mk5h3gdkICA27yklhyphenhyphenMMyp9OvR_-AcktXUDqqVESGGbBvQtFgrpli3I4q1U_HOdZHQ32q0E-Ya-hQGvLf32w_DRwVjqGTkvOqIRv88oDBm0EIAjvbKpbxH0GglwveAYg/s320/DSC_4340-Edit.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Wherefore we receiving
a kingdom which cannot be moved, let us have grace, whereby we may serve God
acceptable with reverence and godly fear: for our God is a consuming fire.”
Hebrews 12:28-29<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-86551817091411475972018-07-11T11:27:00.000-04:002019-11-19T19:28:36.855-05:00For the Love of a Tree<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinz-mwEJbG6K6lUBP9ma11JRND799ESAN2jvOQyLbLR9VfQHXm2s8laLTf8dPXyW0WZT-FT1FzTXIumFHs0d-VWlPA9xSpK_G-hACkSVdwr6kFsngJWgNumeEqHB6pzGF_9vwtk-TCQLK/s1600/Plane+Tree+image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinz-mwEJbG6K6lUBP9ma11JRND799ESAN2jvOQyLbLR9VfQHXm2s8laLTf8dPXyW0WZT-FT1FzTXIumFHs0d-VWlPA9xSpK_G-hACkSVdwr6kFsngJWgNumeEqHB6pzGF_9vwtk-TCQLK/s320/Plane+Tree+image.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plane Tree, planted 1680</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><b>Ombra Mai Fu </b>(Never Was A Shade)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , "serif"; line-height: 150%;">"Tender and beautiful
fronds<br />
of my beloved </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Platanus" title="Platanus"><span style="color: #0b0080; font-family: "cambria" , "serif"; line-height: 150%; text-decoration: none;">plane tree</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , "serif"; line-height: 150%;">,<br />
let Fate smile upon you.<br />
May thunder, lightning, and storms<br />
never disturb your dear peace,<br />
nor may you by blowing winds be profaned.<br />
<br />
Never was a shade<br />
of any plant<br />
dearer and more lovely,<br />
or more sweet."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , "serif"; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> I</span><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span>understand! I have heard this piece of music before. This time, however, noticing the title I wanted to translate the words to discover what had so inspired the composer to create such beautiful sounds. "Ombra Mai Fu" means, "Never Was a Shade." How intriguing! My eyes fell immediately on a picture of a stately tree. I glanced quickly back to read the words of this small work of grand feeling and at once I began to weep. </i></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"><i>I understand this love, this feeling of beauty and reverence! I understand the impulsion that caused the author to pen words and string sounds to describe something that embodies so much meaning and feeling deep within the breast. </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> The poem speaks of the Plane Tree. The tree is one of those grand sorts of trees; tall and lovely with a thick, grey-brown twisty kind of trunk and branches staggered along it reaching first out and then up. The leaves have a lime-green hue. The base of the tree pictured has a large opening where someone could climb into and hide—a grand, glorious tree! A wonder! A creation <i>designed</i> to pierce the conscience and lift the heart and mind to higher regions.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , "serif"; line-height: 150%;"> I love the works of God in creation that make me feel as if He had just left the very place where I now stand; and the smell of Him and the imprints of His hands can almost be perceived. The air is suddenly sweet and still and the light is seemingly altered. A quickening of my spirit arouses my senses and my soul perceives His presence and my heart hears His voice. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> To me, a tree is a symbol of permanence, fortitude and perseverance. It is a monument. It sees generations of small hands, toddling feet, curious climbers and shade-seekers; boys who think they are cowboys and girls setting up for tea. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">It hears their whispers, laughter and tears. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">It feels the weight of the mother's back pressed upon it, and the weight of her head as she looks upwards through the leaves to her Jehovah Jireh(The Lord will provide) and her El Roi (The One who sees her).</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Sometimes, I come across two t</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , serif;">rees that stand as sentinels, flanking an empty space where once stood a home; a place where a mother cleaned and swept endless dirt and children let the screen door slam behind them as they unmindfully galloped through reality while in their imaginary world. A tree provides shelter for birds and shade for man; memorials for a loved one gone and a meeting place for a loved one near.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 6.0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Oh! The lessons of the trees! Hope is found as I see their branches flail and their trunks sway in a summer storm. What pleasure there is to witness the beauty as their leaves catch the glorious rays of sunset or the life-giving dew from heaven, testifying to God's faithful care. Every season brings its particular battering rams; but in the resistance springs the strength. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "cambria" , serif;"> Life is a series of continual changes for me but the trees stand erect, firm, and resolute. Marks of age reside within their bark, mine reside without. I look out my window to the same trees, same scene, and I praise my God who changes not and who will fortify me with the strength I need to stand erect, firm and resolute until my task of shading, protecting, memorializing, hearing the laughter, tears, prayers, and whispers of loved ones is done. </span></div>
<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-24955591354997440322018-06-15T13:33:00.000-04:002018-07-17T11:05:22.605-04:00I am a Grandmother<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLfj-T27nChseBjLqMXFxX-hW5WR8IfPG_ACDQx350aLz5tYN7qh0cFSkBFtE5igeo_gRKTyv2-ahIASfAkrJ6eJz87GVSzJdB0eAarI10GiEdg2y4jvrIMiac8b80fSSokPLHhsvKowvD/s1600/DSC_4074.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLfj-T27nChseBjLqMXFxX-hW5WR8IfPG_ACDQx350aLz5tYN7qh0cFSkBFtE5igeo_gRKTyv2-ahIASfAkrJ6eJz87GVSzJdB0eAarI10GiEdg2y4jvrIMiac8b80fSSokPLHhsvKowvD/s400/DSC_4074.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57fg6K0Cvnr_rN-04e1bssnLJawKlZMcb2BAL5BR9j5V8OLIFM_HNMqIqg5NhhslurdupMvDqqTy7FEvN33hK0wxWj51yR8ZTOh4HowpNGD3qNi_bMIdzrx3rBUz4KNLojhDXBrEC2nmz/s1600/DSC_4075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57fg6K0Cvnr_rN-04e1bssnLJawKlZMcb2BAL5BR9j5V8OLIFM_HNMqIqg5NhhslurdupMvDqqTy7FEvN33hK0wxWj51yR8ZTOh4HowpNGD3qNi_bMIdzrx3rBUz4KNLojhDXBrEC2nmz/s400/DSC_4075.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
...and I love it!Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-23286088633079987972018-02-01T19:42:00.001-05:002018-02-01T20:25:12.188-05:00Ardent Devotion<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAkW2r6VgD-RecsoYMuE23ZaSNlLjthNqhmhp7CcGU9kRQDNCwawuS-D1T5yreouXx7Dafn_3Tm8REaK_XYATbdJ4y9hyr8rCFD2nk0XNu8FruqZQ15DkMqEdu_83OYmGwqeia5IkdAFUn/s1600/Anger_Bride+and+Groom-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAkW2r6VgD-RecsoYMuE23ZaSNlLjthNqhmhp7CcGU9kRQDNCwawuS-D1T5yreouXx7Dafn_3Tm8REaK_XYATbdJ4y9hyr8rCFD2nk0XNu8FruqZQ15DkMqEdu_83OYmGwqeia5IkdAFUn/s320/Anger_Bride+and+Groom-12.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My daughter and her beloved<br />
October 21, 2017</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">In my mind I can see the newlywed wife as she scurries
round the house straightening up, checking on the dinner cooking in the
kitchen, changes into a clean outfit and fixes her hair. Her beloved is coming
home. Throughout the day her thoughts have centered back on him. She has
planned a meal she knows he enjoys and has prepared this meal with a loving
touch. She is devoted to him for he has committed himself to her and expresses
his devotion through word and deed. The door opens and their eyes meet. The
object of her affection is now before her and it feels like home. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Morning
light has broken the dark hold of night. I move from my darkened room toward
the eastern corner of my home. Warm light filters in through the windows and
instinctively I draw near. I am here again and so is He. His letter to me sits
on the small table beside the soft chair. I faintly hear the birds gratefully
accepting their morning meal from the feeder hanging just outside and in the
stillness of the rooms I am reminded of a sovereign God’s watchful eye over all
His creation. I step into the embrace of my loving Father. I feel His deep love
for me and my deep need for Him. I must have this glimpse of glory in the
morning hours to prepare me for what I will face in the course of the day. My
eye meets His as I look into His Word and I hear His voice through the text on
the page; and it feels like home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Why Ardent Devotion?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">True love doesn’t
end with feeling but with action. How do I express love and gratitude to the
object of my affection? A love like I’ve never known was birthed in me when, upon
hearing the Gospel message, the realization of my great sins and His great
sacrifice tore through my soul. Profound guilt ravaged my conscience but with
the acceptance of His profound love for me was burned up and swept away by
desperate gratefulness and enormous relief. He saved my soul from the precipice
of the burning depths of eternity. Such love can only be expressed in ardent
devotion. Knowing that true love must be expressed in action, what would this ardent
devotion to Jesus look like in my daily life?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Absorbing the Glory of His Presence<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">To begin
with, I would give Him the first moments of my day in praise, prayer, and study.
Adoration of His name would be the melody line of my song of praise. I wouldn’t
miss a chance to sit quietly before the King of Kings, to hear from Him and to
break open the bread of life and sup with Him, gaining nourishment for my soul.
What an appointment to keep! What an opportunity to enter the holy of holies
and minister unto Him while, at the same time, being ministered unto! As Moses’
face reflected the glory of God from his time spent with Him, so should mine
glow not only from the flame of the Holy Spirit within, but also from my
morning time spent dwelling in the brightness of the glory of His presence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As Unto the Lord<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Secondly, I
would realize that God has placed me in a specific station or place of service.
In my life, wife and mother is a calling from Him, therefore I must seek to
fulfill those duties as unto Him. Practically speaking I would diligently keep
house and care for all those who live here and for all who would pass over this
threshold. I would see it as my duty to pray for them, to plan for them and to
prepare for ways to bless them. I would seek to press on in this ministry that
He has selected for me knowing it is my duty to enthusiastically encourage
other believers to keep on trusting Him and to grow their faith in Him and to
be a shining light that points to Christ for all those who have yet to come to
know Him, beginning first with those in my own home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Practicing the Presence of Christ<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Lastly,
ardent devotion would cause my thoughts to circle back around to Christ
continually throughout my day. To help my mind in this I would fill it with
thoughts of Him through Scripture and song so that my lips naturally speak of
Him and His work of grace in my life. Ardent devotion would cause me to understand
that all of life should be lived as before Him; every moment of everyday living
in constant communion with Him. “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose
mind is stayed on Thee: for he trusteth in Thee.” (Isaiah 26:3) A calm, content
stillness will possess my being as all thoughts are passed first through the
truths of God’s word. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The Beauty of Holiness<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Psalm 29:2
calls us to “Give unto the LORD the glory due unto his name; worship the LORD
in the beauty of holiness.” The beauty of holiness spoken here is the adornment
of apartness and sacredness. A still and sacred holy place should be carved out
within me as a dwelling place for Him who filleth the earth with His blessings
and made the stars also. Have I been so foolish to forget that He is nearer to me
than breathing? Know I not that God moves with purpose and in love and that He
has chosen me a vessel fit for the Master’s use? I will stand in awe and seek
to live with the touch of God in my fingertips and the love of God in my eyes.
Holiness gives me a special kind of beauty that is well pleasing to my gracious
heavenly Father. </span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Sweet communion as beloved speaks with beloved and
lives his life yearning to please the other. True love must be seen in true
action. Married or single, God awaits your loving devotion to Him. “Thou wilt
shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fullness of joy; at thy right hand
there are pleasures for evermore.” (Psalm 16:11)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
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Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-45316443311865089422017-04-25T14:37:00.000-04:002018-07-11T22:09:58.453-04:00My Life in Five Pictures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimnzyAykwQ2zfYi7zK0RykJHQfINDjTHNfn75dWuo1aXnLJhVubDA27dULM2fryPETKdo5nOv5ACir0kjL8PKMAYFGMi3Y21ZT3V_6IHIhCXnhfh_1ibequdqCkbSNjknLNdjIFkoZvvpQ/s1600/DSC_5234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimnzyAykwQ2zfYi7zK0RykJHQfINDjTHNfn75dWuo1aXnLJhVubDA27dULM2fryPETKdo5nOv5ACir0kjL8PKMAYFGMi3Y21ZT3V_6IHIhCXnhfh_1ibequdqCkbSNjknLNdjIFkoZvvpQ/s320/DSC_5234.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Recently I saw a picture of Albert Einstein. He was seated at
his desk; his very large and very cluttered desk. The quote beneath it read, “If
a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk
a sign?” (A.Einstein)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I take comfort in this image now as I try to find a resting
place on my desk for my forearms as I type this. I have many, many items of
various sorts and of various levels of importance waiting their turn for my
attention. I choose instead to type. I have learned to write when the wave of
inspiration floods my mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">In going through our photographs to sort them into creative scrapbooks
I have found an interesting series of images of me throughout the years. As I
lay them in chronological order, I see the story of my life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Age 4 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I am wearing the borrowed and terribly coveted bridal
ensemble from Mrs. Fortunato’s Pre-school classroom. My mother brought me to
the quaint and beautiful Bucks County stone home in the mornings and deposited
me in the red barn-turned-classroom to play and to learn. I learned the “A
Tisket a Tasket a Green and Yellow Basket” song here. It was here I had my
debut as “Vixen” the reindeer in the Christmas play, and I always played the
bride at dress up time. The dear Mrs. Fortunato, with her snow white straight chin-length hair and dark rimmed glasses, sweetly allowed me to take the outfit home on this
particular day; a small but endearing act on her part. Here I stand in my
bedroom, which I dearly loved, with its pink and green theme, ball-fringed
curtain tie-backs and pink shag rug. I was a terribly happy child with only
grand expectations for the wonderful and accepting world waiting to hand me my
future. I smiled at the world and the world smiled back at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Age 18<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">It is my first day of community college. My car, my
fashionable wide belt, my fluffy hair and my smile; I’m sure that’s all I’ll
need. I’ve put on some weight over the last year as life begins to spin out of
control. The white van in the background is the one my mother bought for her
dried flower business. She is trying to earn money for the Great Departure. In
one year, everything will change. I had already met my future husband two years
prior to this image, but alas, in my 16 year old wisdom I moved him from “first
boyfriend” status to “just a friend”. At this point in my life he is a dear
friend to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Age 22<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Honeymoon breakfast in Beach Haven, New Jersey. Ron stops to
take a picture as we prepare to leave in our borrowed sports car. I take a picture of him just before this one.
I have shed my weight. I have also shed weights and plans in exchange for the rest
that I trust will come from being with my friend for always. I trust all will
work out. We rushed to plan a wedding in 6 weeks’ time. We are both 22 years
old. In three short months I will become pregnant. I am unprepared. I keep
smiling, looking hard for the world to smile back at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Age 33<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Reality has come hard and in three years from this image I will battle
fiercely with depression. The first years of marriage have had its trials and
they seem to continue without sign of easing. Our normal life doesn’t seem to
fit at all the one I ordered from the “This was Your Life” catalog. I’ve come
to know the Lord and this has been a great help in anchoring my soul and in
giving me purpose in my position as wife and mother, but I persist in trying to
force my expectations of life onto the persistent circumstances and this
tension produces an incredible strain. Four children came in 7 years’ time. In this
picture I am sitting on a stone wall at Fonthill, the location of our wedding
reception. The four children are playing around a small pond in front of me
just out of the lens’ view. This world couldn’t be more different and
unfamiliar from the one just 11 years prior when I stood as a bride on this
very spot. The Lord is using this time to break me and mold me into something I
had never conceived. I know in my head and even in my heart that I am a blessed
woman and these children that have been given to my husband and to me are gifts
of incredible worth. I know that God will work it all out. I just can’t quite
align my seemingly contrary circumstances to His apparent plan of good. I smile on the outside as I die on the inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Age 46<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Thirteen years later. An event at church allows the girls and
I to don our chapeaux. Grace takes this picture of me in the early morning
light as we depart. I see a settledness in my features. In the years now past I
have seen the perseverance of my husband and the consistent, faithful and
benevolent care of my dear Lord. Though, at the time of this picture, the future is as unclear as it has ever
been, I don’t seem to mind. I have seen how the Lord has led and I am content
to walk by His side and not run ahead. I have seen one child married now, and
at this point I am thinking it won’t be long until another flies, too. Little did I know how right I was. I love that I am dressed up and wearing a hat and that my sweet daughters are
also decorated in their finery. Our children make us laugh and they make us
proud. We have weathered the early storms and they have formed us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">We have built a home. We have sought to dispense love and
wisdom to our children. We long for them to stand on their own with their eyes
fixed on God and their hand in the hand of their very own loved ones. There is
less, “I wonder…” now and more, “I see.” I worry sometimes how a quick burst
into laughter at something poignant or sentimental melts right into a brief
tearful fit of sobbing. Joy and sadness seem to dwell so closely now, but I’m
okay with this. Love and loss, laughter and tears, victories and struggles all
seem to be a part of this life and without the blessed mixture of them all we
really wouldn’t be living.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">At 22, when I was a new bride, I knew nothing of life, of determination, and of true
wealth that is measured in that which has no price. I am as wealthy as can be.
This reality, God’s economy, is the true reality and impoverished not am I. His
custom made path for each person is right and true and just. I have, Lord
willing, more miles to journey and am sure that more treacherous paths await
me, but fearful not I choose to be. For He walks with me, carrying me when
necessary, and teaches me, always teaches me, that His way is the blessed way.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Silly me, I was looking to the world to be so kind and
benevolent. When I called out to Him, He accepted me and handed me my future. Now, I
smile at Him and He smiles back at me. And His is the only smile I need.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-54441975033459314902017-03-20T12:53:00.000-04:002018-02-01T19:43:42.173-05:00Portals of Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxTlF4rBB9_hiV0RE7OfRT7rVy2Vtpg5JSWRryvRY82064aX0RrxjQBDfKI6p9QHknrCF45tFBoCIyTtLaAtjkzUNkQo3x9Nzlc6VtU0MmPjnmDyynbLk5nQms7PJw8frjWMbW7dl6HBJI/s1600/2017-03-20_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxTlF4rBB9_hiV0RE7OfRT7rVy2Vtpg5JSWRryvRY82064aX0RrxjQBDfKI6p9QHknrCF45tFBoCIyTtLaAtjkzUNkQo3x9Nzlc6VtU0MmPjnmDyynbLk5nQms7PJw8frjWMbW7dl6HBJI/s400/2017-03-20_0001.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Two boards hang
on our bedroom wall. Flanking my bureau they stand as two pillars, monuments of
what makes us, us. On our wall we have placed printed reminders of why we are
called a family and what that means forevermore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The past and the
present intermingle. Amazing it is to gaze into the eyes of a younger you, then
step two feet to the left and stare into those same eyes in a mirror you purchased
as a young bride never knowing of the reflections to come. Spring, winter,
golden fall, pictures of my babies, my boys, my men; greenhouse with a youthful
father of mine and his tender tomato plants; my young husband in his trademark jeans
and blue flannel with his dog; weddings, graduations, a trip to the shore; armfuls
of puppies; a yet-to-be first born in the womb of a naïve 23 year old woman hosting
her first Easter; and sisters in dresses at 5 and at 12-- the same sisters in
dresses again at 16 and 23; same chair, same shaded setting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Moments held
suspended in time on photographic paper gingerly tacked to a board on our wall.
In uncertain times it is good and right to fix one’s eyes on the solid and
immoveable. Moments that have traveled through the bottleneck of the hourglass
should be viewed with gratitude and as a window to our future. God frequently
reminded the Israelites of where they had been, who they were and where He was
taking them, which was invariably, closer to Himself. Likewise, images of the
past remind us of God’s blessing and provision which, when meditated gratefully
upon, serve to draw us closer to Him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Therefore, it
seems good to me to medialize; to bring the past, present and future together
in one place; to draw together the pieces of what has brought me to this place
in time. I look to see who I am and Whose I am by seeing where I’ve been and seek
to envision where I am going. The particulars of where I am going aren’t as
important as knowing that I must cleave to the One who is leading me there.
There are clues from my past from which I may glean lessons and strength for my
future. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I highly
recommend finding the images of your past and placing them in your present;
right before your face. I frequently stop and stare at these images and am
reminded of my position as mother, wife, friend and daughter of the King. It
reminds me why I want to improve myself and that I want to collect more
memories to add to our wall. It reminds me to <i>actively create</i> the moments that we will want to capture and then
pin to our wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sometimes I find
my husband stopping to look through these portals of time. My children, too,
will occasionally be drawn to the boards as they notice a new image or two has
been added. When they do, they stop and stare. Their eyes drift from one image
to the next, with a smile upon their face. They will point one out and vocalize
their perspective. Often these comments produce laughter and, inevitably,
warmth between the spirits in the room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As for the
particulars, I found two pale mauve office boards, circa 1990 at a thrift store
that must weigh at least 10 pounds each. They have cut outs in the back for use
in mounting to the wall. They are made of a material that thumb tacks can be
pressed into them. They measure about 18” x 36” x 1”. I purchased a yard of
decorator fabric that complemented our room and used fabric glue and a staple
gun to wrap the front side of the board. I use clear tacks to hold pictures to
the board without piercing the actual picture. This is a truly simple craft for
the non-crafty person. Any board will do that can be covered and that will hold
a tack.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial unicode ms" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The images you
gather are representative of the souls God has placed in your home. As
governess of your home, please understand that, “Home influence may be
estimated from the immense force of its impressions. It is the prerogative of
home to make the first impression upon our nature, and to give that nature its
first direction onward and upward. It uncovers the moral fountain, chooses its
channel, and gives the stream its first impulse. It makes the ‘first stamp and
sets the first seal’ upon the plastic nature of the child. It gives the first
tone to our desires and furnishes ingredients that will either sweeten or embitter
the whole cup of life…Our habits, too, are formed under the moulding power of
home. The ‘tender twig’ is there bent, the spirit shaped, principles implanted,
and the whole character is formed until it becomes a habit. Goodness or evil
are there ‘resolved into necessity.’ Who does not feel this influence of home
upon all his habits of life” <u>The
Royal Path of Life</u>, <i>Home Influence.</i>
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-71809985489416839612016-12-12T15:19:00.000-05:002016-12-12T15:19:07.507-05:00Creavit Enim Ut (Created for a purpose)<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> “<span style="background: white;">Throughout
Proverbs, wisdom is<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>always</em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>referred to as a woman. She teaches,
instructs, creates, calls out to fools to come in her house to learn insight
and to understand knowledge<span style="color: #333333;">. </span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%;">What a great picture of what God
created women to be and to become—civilizers of people, influencers of
generations, shapers of nations.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Sally
Clarkson’s article, “Exceptional Women Feed the Souls of Others from the
Richness of their Souls”)</span></span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Learn to do Well<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So where do
we start to fulfill this God-given task? We can begin with Isaiah 1:17, “Learn
to do well.” As a woman, I am naturally a teacher, and I should always be
putting myself in a place of learning. God directs us here to learn to do
“well”. The primary root of the word, “well”, is “to make sound, beautiful.”
Dig further, it means: “be accepted, amend, benefit, make cheerful, comely.”
The root spreads more: “be content, diligent, find favor, give, be glad, do
good, make merry, shew more kindness, make sweet.” God says to learn to do these
things; to use our life to <i>actively gro</i>w
in these areas, <i>impacting our sphere</i>
of influence with a <i>living model of the
kingdom of God</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Begin at the
beginning. Learning things is hard work. If you don’t understand something,
don’t let pride swell within manifesting itself in self-hate or discouragement;
rather, let it fascinate you. Be in childlike awe that so much is beyond that
horizon, so much to learn and see and do <i>and
share</i>. “Isn’t it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out
about? It just makes one feel glad to be alive—it’s such an interesting world.”
(Lucy M. Montgomery, author of Anne of Green Gables.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Grow Upwards Towards Christ and
Spread Outward Towards Man<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Let’s start
with the question of how does one learn to do well? There are two areas: grow upwards
towards Christ, and seek to spread knowledge and wisdom outward to others. How?
As does a tree, we are to become rooted and grounded in His Truth. The trunk of
the tree is the vital connection between its roots and its leaves. A healthy
trunk points upward and hosts the life-giving nourishment from the root system.
Our strength comes from a close and vibrant relationship with God. Connection
to the root and the effectual deliverance of nutrients to the branches and
leaves is vital. The leaves and the fruit picture how we benefit others and
interact with the world. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Again, “Seek
the LORD and His strength, seek His face continually.” (2 Chr.16:11) We are to
seek His face continually. What other Scripture comes to mind? “Pray without
ceasing.” (I Thessalonians 5: 17) Or, “Evening, and morning, and at noon, will
I pray, and cry aloud: and He shall hear my voice.” (Psalm 55:17) This living
relationship is a continual, never ending, life-giving part of our life. The
tree is ever seeking the water of life and transforming it to nourishment for
the leaves and fruit. The tree is a living and growing thing. Our relationship
with God is a living and growing thing! To be effective we must remain
connected. A tree with no active root system is a dead tree.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">God is the Source<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;">Let’s first discuss the question of how
to grow closer to God?</span></b><span style="line-height: 115%;"> First, <i>know that He is the Source</i>.
Psalm 63:5, “My soul, wait thou only upon God; <i>for my expectation is from Him</i>.” (Expectation: cord, hope) Not from
others, from Him. He is your Teacher. To learn from Him you must spend time
with Him. Be patient with yourself. Building new pathways and connecting
bridges in the mind takes time. To go from spoon fed to eating on your own is a
process. Different muscles are used; a new determination must be summoned.
Practice the presence of Christ; that constant conversation with Him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Efforts Produce Results<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Secondly, <i>know that effort will produce results</i>. “Be
not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also
reap.” (Galatians 6:7-8) Diligent effort will have its rewards. First and
foremost, spend much time in His Word, taking note of what He is speaking to
you about, and spend thoughtful time pondering this. “To read without
reflecting is like eating without digesting.” (Edmund Burke) Saturate yourself
in the Word of God. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Act Upon That Which You Have Learned<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Thirdly, <i>your daily walk is the exercise, or the
living out of this time spent with Him</i>. Women are wonderfully and specifically
constituted to draw close to God in sensitivity of spirit and to comfort,
cradle, gently guide and instruct the ones He has placed around them. Grow
towards God. <i>For with Him you can handle
anything; without Him you can handle nothing! </i>As you mingle with people you
grow closer to God, for these relationships are used of Him to bless, correct,
admonish and change <i>you</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Turning the Chin Upward<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“A woman who
thinks and read, who takes the time to build a reservoir of wisdom and knowledge
in her own heart, soul and mind, will serve others well and invest in those in
her sphere of influence. (S. Clarkson article) <b>We come to the second portion of learning to do well: spreading
knowledge and wisdom outward to others.</b> Just as gravity in the physical
world is constantly pulling downward, so too in our spiritual lives, everything
tends downward. It takes concerted effort to keep pressing onward and upward. You
spend time with your God and you see how faithfully and patiently He instructs
and guides you. Naturally then, you long to have others see Him as you do but the
great question is how to pull others out of their world into His? How do you
help them look beyond the four man-made walls constraining their life:
selfishness, fear, doubt and shortsightedness? How? Get close enough to them to
turn their chin upward for a glimpse of the eternal. You can neither save nor
change a person by sheer will, but you can, with gentleness and care, touch
their downturned chin and lift it upward. Find where God is and point their
attention there! Show them there is more to life than what we see. Learn to see
beyond:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That is not a blue sky you see, it is
the mere underside of the carpet of heaven! <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That is not a tree you see, it is an
act of worship in creation: trunk pointing upward, and limbs, as arms, uplifted
in praise to the Great God! <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The trill of the songbird is a chorus
of praise in an unknown tongue! <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That is not a sunset, it is but a
dimmed reflection of the lower lights in heaven! <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Those are not stars above, they are
but tiny pinholes in the canopy that separates our dark world from the bright
streaming glories of heaven! <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That is not a trial you are facing,
it is an opportunity to grow closer to your Father.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Understanding = True Communication<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Your gentle
touch has a great impact. Turn your attention to others. I’ve found the secret
of great communication: seek to understand the person with whom you are
speaking. When you seek to understand the reason behind the tone, the concerns
that grip the heart, the hopes and plans in the bosom, you begin to understand
the person and therefore can communicate with greater efficiency. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Expanding Your Sphere of Influence
Through Genuine Interest<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have said
before, “If you want to be interesting you must be interested.” Being interested
not only in life and beauty and knowledge, but in people and their deep needs, makes
you a very interesting person to those with whom you speak, therefore increasing
your influence within their life. Here
is an account of a meeting with such a person. “She approached me with an
attitude of expectancy that made me instantly eager to fill her hopes and
flattered me by her very evident belief that I could. And under her warming
interest I forgot lacks and limitations and expanded into a creditable version
of what the Creator intended me to be, because she called out the best of me
and made me pleased with myself. The fresh cleanness of her seemed an
out-picturing of an inner cleanness and clarity.” (Margery Wilson, <u>Charm</u>)
As you are interested in others, your sphere of influence will expand.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Women were
created and consecrated (set apart) for a special task. The cry that began in
the 1970’s was, “I am woman, hear me roar.” I say, “I am woman, see me love.”
See me stand with strength and dignity upon that which is true, right and just.
See me learn to do well in my home and abroad for the love of God and man,
thereby becoming a “civilizer of people, an influencer of generations and a
shaper of nations.” </span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-64666317536999563072016-12-01T15:20:00.001-05:002016-12-01T15:35:26.939-05:00Occupation: HomemakerI sit down at the imposing wooden desk. Its surface is cool to the touch. I think my seat must be set at a slightly lower altitude than the gentleman's across the way. I suddenly feel quite small. I seem to have entered into an illusion where everyone has everything in order, from their hair, to their clothes, to their entire life. He questions me, "And, your occupation?"<br />
<br />
"My occupation? I...I...I'm a stay-at-home-mom. I mean, I don't work. I mean, I stay at home and work a lot. I don't know, I guess you can just list it as 'homemaker', but it sure doesn't sound like much." The final portion of that sentence being mumbled, of course.<br />
<br />
Business attended to, I rise to leave. As I move through the sleek and sterile illusion of the well-oiled Machine of Progress and Purpose, I reflect. I look down at my shoes, flat and worn. I pull my purse close to my side, thin and comfortless. My smallness longs for the comfort and safety of home, where one can be grounded and make sense of it all. Yes, home. My head begins to rise and my eyes survey the beings trapped within this corporate illusion of "progress and purpose," of fulfillment and wealth. Purpose. Fulfillment. Real wealth. I stop. I turn back.<br />
<br />
"Excuse me, sir, you'll need more than just a two inch line to describe that which occupies my time. I, sir, am a Homemaker; I am making a home. The builders built it, but I am making it a home. They framed it, but I'm finishing it with all the tools of my feminine being.<br />
<br />
"Building upon a Foundation sure, I am daily kept busy nurturing hearts, minds, and bodies. As I enlighten rooms with glowing lights to guide their physical steps in the dark of night, I am reminded that I have also been entrusted with the duty of enlightening their minds with The Light of Christ as found in His Word and with the lesser lights of education to guide their steps in the darkness of this world.<br />
<br />
"I am a Homemaker. I am the Gate-Keeper of my Haven of Rest that houses and nurtures eternal souls. It is my temperament that governs the spirit within these walls. It is my very words that give strength to this frame, or insidiously rips it down. It is my faith in God that will give birth to their faith in God that will birth the next generation's faith in God.<br />
<br />
"I am Mother. I am of the called. I am of the chosen ones. I have been selected by God to reproduce His love over and over and over again as I sacrificially give of myself to see my children safely over the dangers that frantically grasp at their feet and their hearts along the way.<br />
<br />
" I have a divine purpose, a holy calling with eternal prospects and consequences. I am to be infectiously transmitting my faith to my little brood. I have a duty that demands <i>my all</i>. I am to reflect the joy of knowing my God and Saviour as I walk with Him and allow Him to change the way I interact with my ever-observing audience, whose eyes are sharp and whose ears are keen, and whose collecting of data takes no vacation.<br />
<br />
"I must constantly be aware that I am making a home out of that which occupies the hours of my days, the words of my mouth, the tears of my heart, the prayers that pour out to my God in the dark of the night. I am making a home with all of these things.<br />
<br />
"I must periodically meet with my Heavenly Master and ask before the Board of Heaven, 'How <i>am</i> I spending my hours? What <i>is it</i> that breaks my heart? How <i>often</i> am I communing with my God in earnest prayer? Are my efforts stained with the perspiration of human effort or saturated with the dew of heavenly intervention?' These meetings are sometimes fierce, always soul-searching and often heart-rending events. But shy away from them I must not! For with Him I can do all things, and without Him I can do nothing. <br />
<br />
"Yes, sir! I am a Homemaker! what is it that you said you do?"<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhecqXv3-rpmnrhecq8JvP21jCQtsbO8er6ZOYuc_Y4NfOQD2tKPzIlhyphenhyphen0CwowtG1SU8-_nx4QRR3AWz9KQEeVJeVgZDnDZpsHZhzYGbHWAbfjBD2zRjulu5W45yp2FUNaZZ3KpBhk-_6Q4/s1600/DSC_1463-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhecqXv3-rpmnrhecq8JvP21jCQtsbO8er6ZOYuc_Y4NfOQD2tKPzIlhyphenhyphen0CwowtG1SU8-_nx4QRR3AWz9KQEeVJeVgZDnDZpsHZhzYGbHWAbfjBD2zRjulu5W45yp2FUNaZZ3KpBhk-_6Q4/s400/DSC_1463-Edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ever-expanding Roy Family, October 2016</td></tr>
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<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-23377446165508007382016-09-13T19:21:00.001-04:002016-10-27T18:14:17.005-04:00Composition Topics for Your Students<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpDdlvO3InSZ8DqIHOsx3zEFD7fG3likTfvYZTdGT5x__FpKp-L-WcCL-Uf3ayrrUB91wHs0FkGDnIuibS_jfcVdnV2OAbKGjwZuK3DVOFK-YaiBerOHL5KOXp-tZtzFFlCYcOKAnljgYx/s1600/DSC_8299.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpDdlvO3InSZ8DqIHOsx3zEFD7fG3likTfvYZTdGT5x__FpKp-L-WcCL-Uf3ayrrUB91wHs0FkGDnIuibS_jfcVdnV2OAbKGjwZuK3DVOFK-YaiBerOHL5KOXp-tZtzFFlCYcOKAnljgYx/s400/DSC_8299.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> A Dahlia in my dad's garden</td></tr>
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The following are to be used as topics for composition writing. I always enjoyed coming up with topics and challenging the Roy Academy students to really think through their responses. It would also be a profitable exercise for the head mistress of your homeschool (mom) to write a composition or two from these subjects.<br />
<br />
1. "Innocence is better than repentance."<br />
2. The Adult I Wish to be<br />
3. How to Motivate Myself to do a Hard Task<br />
4. My Letter to a United States Soldier<br />
5. The Benefits Within and Without of "Preferring Others"<br />
6. Define True Success<br />
7. How does your tone of voice affect a conversation?<br />
8. The View From My Window<br />
9. The Power of Influence<br />
10. Books and How They Affect Your Life<br />
11.The Perfect Day<br />
12. Integrity: What is it and why is it important?<br />
13. How can you comfort someone who is going through a trial? (Try James 1)<br />
14. Describe the benefits of heeding the following advice:<br />
"Give to thy God the first thought of each day,<br />
At night, before sleep invade, reflect and pray."<br />
15. "Govern thy passion." Describe for me the ill-effects of irritability and temper.<br />
16. "Humility becomes a dependent being." Explain.<br />
17. "What you are to be, you are now becoming." Explain.<br />
18. "People see God every day, they just don't recognize Him." How can this be?<br />
19. How does the love of "things" corrupt your heart?<br />
20. "Value wisdom over gold." What is "wisdom" and how do you personally value it?<br />
21. What are the benefits of being homeschooled?<br />
22. The greatest thing I can do for somebody else is...<br />
23. Politeness and its Effect on Others.<br />
24. The Privilege of Prayer. What is a "privilege"? Who is listening to your prayers? Who is talking? Where is our confidence that He will hear?<br />
25. When I am 30 years old, this is what I think my life will look like...<br />
26. How can you be a delight to the LORD?<br />
27. How can peace in your heart affect those around you?<br />
28. Kind Words and the Effect it has on Others.<br />
29. In reference to the Bible, explain the saying, "This Book will keep me from sin, or sin will keep me from this Book." Why do I capitalize all references to the Bible?<br />
30. How can humility bring contentment?<br />
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<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-60852721079025641712016-06-24T13:56:00.002-04:002019-03-26T17:20:54.703-04:00Homeschooling: A Challenge<div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive; text-indent: 0.5in;">~Written several years ago when the children were small.~</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive; font-size: medium;">Do
you know how often people tell us that we are “so
lucky to have gotten such good kids”? As if we haven’t spent the
better part of our adult life pouring our entire being into our
children. As if the countless hours we’ve spent praying over them
and monitoring the details of their life; reading them Scripture and
helping them to apply it to their lives, having had them hear it,
read it, memorize it, see the need of it and teaching them to love
it. As if the difficult times of disciplining them in love and with
concern for their present, as well as their future well being, meant
nothing in the development of these children. As if the choice to be
their tutor and to make the sacrifices necessary for this arrangement
had nothing to do with their emotional, physical, spiritual, as well
as their social vitality!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">The
</span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i>reason</i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
you see the results in our children that you do is because we have
not delegated the privilege of raising these children to anyone else.
God has given these children to us. We conceived them, we gave
birth to them, and we are the ideal candidates to love and nurture
them in the way that is the best for them. God is not mocked; what
you sow you will reap. The </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i>reason
</i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">the fruit of our
labors is beginning to show itself so sweet is because God’s
commandments have been our constant guide; </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i>His</i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
standard is what we have tried to uphold in our home; and </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><u><b>His</b></u></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><u>
</u></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i><u><b>mercy</b></u></i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><u><b>
is what we have sought after and begged for daily as we have
consulted Him and asked for His wisdom in dealing with our children. </b></u></span>
</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Lqrw-K_7wwH3mhvpUQZyiuhyphenhyphenDjs4Gd1CQRd_EwamzVZtNhO0BRv0bNc0-2N-qSSRH2zUtgzvKHUVhhdSPGr0-c7DhbfBTSPPtAw6PWANRUF4KZob6teY0DlNrFi7cb06fg4qJb22M3mO/s1600/william+adolphe+bouguereau+mother+and+children.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Lqrw-K_7wwH3mhvpUQZyiuhyphenhyphenDjs4Gd1CQRd_EwamzVZtNhO0BRv0bNc0-2N-qSSRH2zUtgzvKHUVhhdSPGr0-c7DhbfBTSPPtAw6PWANRUF4KZob6teY0DlNrFi7cb06fg4qJb22M3mO/s1600/william+adolphe+bouguereau+mother+and+children.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Homeschooling
mother, you’ve signed up for the long haul. Your days are full of
work, both physical and mental, even though you are classed among the
“non-working”. The stakes are high: those little eyes are
watching you all the time and those little ears are taking in all
that is said to them and all that is within their ear-reach. Souls
are being shaped and molded under your care, conforming to your
design. </span>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Never
in your own strength can you accomplish anything of eternal value in
this costly arena. </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><b>It
will not be to </b></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i><b>your</b></i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><b>
glory as you stand one day with your “trophies” around you…you
will know it was, and is, all Him; it is and always has been </b></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i><b>all
to</b></i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><b> </b></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i><b>His</b></i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><b>
glory. For without Him you can do nothing.</b></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
Your ship has safely crossed the wild, stormy seas because its
anchor is Christ. You labored in your home, with your children, out
of your love </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i>for Him</i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">,
for the One who saved your soul and set your path aright. But </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><b>for
the grace of God</b></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">,
there would </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><b>you</b></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
go, racing on towards Hell, losing your children as you went. </span>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Yours
is a labor of love in the deepest sense of the word. Giving and
expecting nothing in return. </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i>Choosing</i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
to care for, respect, and sacrifice for, with no consideration of
your own flighty emotions or feelings. Yours must be seen as a
ministry, a special calling from God on High. For that is what it
is. He has called you and He has given all necessary power to
accomplish His plan for you. </span>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">He
who is called Faithful and True is ever-present and is ever-willing
to enable you to face long-division, prepositional phrases <i>and</i> world
geography. He who called you will never leave you wanting the
resources necessary to accomplish your task. Doubting your ability
to do this job is to doubt your God and </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i><b>His</b></i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
abilities and </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i><b>His</b></i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
chosen path for you. He has promised to never leave you nor forsake
you. Have you no faith, dear one? Faith involves trusting what God
has said and moving forward even when the next step seems to be into
the dark. </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><b>Troubles, trials and difficulties </b></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i><b>are
part of the journey</b></i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><b>.</b></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
Had we not these obstacles we would </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive; text-indent: 0.5in;">not </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive; text-indent: 0.5in;">need God to guide us
through, and we would </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive; text-indent: 0.5in;">not </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive; text-indent: 0.5in;">need faith to traverse a clear, well-lit
path.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">The
hard times that </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><i>will</i></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
come are meant to draw us closer to Him, to cause us to mount up with
Him in His chariot, to mount up with wings as eagles and get a
heavenly view of our situation. This view changes everything. Above
the storm the sun is always shining. With God in prayer, rise above
the circumstances and seek to see this old world through the eyes of
Him who loves you so; through the eyes of Him who has promised to
work all things together for good to them that love Him and who are
the called according to His purpose.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive; font-size: medium;">You,
your spouse and God; what a powerful combination for changing the
world one soul at a time.</span><br />
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Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-3043593059673566082016-06-24T13:49:00.001-04:002016-06-24T13:57:54.855-04:00Beauty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU2lUYFGOrcUdlESM6zfjtOZ1cqskFAn-4-WdKV8KRUkeTyeKMtCbmpI68_mRCwiIGD2R-E9Viyrk8uFJX6rXmHLLxNpxexr7It6UiYZORDOfGiUCere-OPdjqk93Fr4ZAb7_pyALDESLd/s1600/DSC_4275.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU2lUYFGOrcUdlESM6zfjtOZ1cqskFAn-4-WdKV8KRUkeTyeKMtCbmpI68_mRCwiIGD2R-E9Viyrk8uFJX6rXmHLLxNpxexr7It6UiYZORDOfGiUCere-OPdjqk93Fr4ZAb7_pyALDESLd/s640/DSC_4275.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Beautiful for beauty's sake. Arrayed in pink petal splendor with perhaps no one to see but God. A brief show of perfection for an audience of One. A Peony explosion on a Spring day. How much of beauty do I miss? What gems of perfection are quietly dwelling nearby? This I happened upon; how much is there that I fail to see?</div>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-68149175164372688532016-06-24T13:48:00.000-04:002019-03-21T10:08:55.601-04:00Fleeting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am cultivating a garden fair;<br />
With blooms so lovely and so rare.<br />
Faithfully I tend to the daily needs;<br />
In this unremitting fight in the Battle of the Weeds.<br />
Though in this journey I grow weary, for the end seems always off afar;<br />
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Yet this truth I <i>must</i> believe: that this all, too soon, shall pass.<br />
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At present, the journey seems without end.<br />
Yet faintly, I hear the truth that they are here, with me, merely on lend.<br />
Yes, soon she'll be walking an aisle<br />
Where just yesterday I kissed her little face and held her little hand.<br />
Yes, his boots will soon outgrow my feet<br />
And he'll be rummaging relentlessly for something more to eat.<br />
Oh, little one with hopeful, smiling eyes and soft, needy hands;<br />
Let me hold your gaze a little longer and hold your hand a little tighter,<br />
<br />
For I am painfully aware that this all too soon shall pass.<br />
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They are but visitors stopping by my home<br />
For a short repose before moving on to lands they'll call their own.<br />
They are precious blossoms in my garden that soon will fade away;<br />
For can the lilac bloom past the early spring? And can the lily linger longer than the day?<br />
Precious blooms of magnificent artistry and design;<br />
A season short with possibilities divine!<br />
I relish in their company, their beauty, and the wonder of it all,<br />
As I cry to know<br />
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That this all, too soon, shall pass...<br />
Oh, I say, this all, too soon, has passed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvjSAHwDtjz1CRasNy9w4F8acNL__Pb-hPvk07ZOX1lN8aePr6mFNQ7GGhnRm-jsqi7aQFttHwuuLKbcYmTWADDzEnxYLGS4xaMRY4KR5opT0RDmvoEZR4PxSz8rFzjF2rTBv5RNeS41vY/s1600/DSC_9488.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvjSAHwDtjz1CRasNy9w4F8acNL__Pb-hPvk07ZOX1lN8aePr6mFNQ7GGhnRm-jsqi7aQFttHwuuLKbcYmTWADDzEnxYLGS4xaMRY4KR5opT0RDmvoEZR4PxSz8rFzjF2rTBv5RNeS41vY/s400/DSC_9488.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<i> This poem was begun when my four little lambs were the ages of 10-17. Precious, precious are the times that are no more. Weary mother, breathe deeply the air of memories being cast, of days made alive with noise and clutter and questions and battles of the wills.</i><br />
<i> This season of home-life, of the formation of your family circle, is a turbulent time; wild, full of emotional highs and lows. In it you see the best of you and the worst of you, all the while your children are assimilating this whole atmosphere of you. Daily they imbibe the ideas of love, of fidelity, of mastery and of God by observing you. Your tones, your attitudes, your actions, your reactions speak to them in volumes recorded on their soul.</i><br />
<i> Tread carefully, tread mindfully through this land of young motherhood. Treasure this fleeting season where your influence is most profound.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Signed,</i><br />
<i>One who is seeing where the road ends</i>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-79342884649236414222016-06-23T16:06:00.001-04:002016-06-23T16:58:06.746-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In Christ alone my hope is found,</div>
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He is my light, my strength, my song;</div>
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this Cornerstone, this solid Ground,</div>
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firm through the fiercest drought and storm.</div>
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What heights of love, what depths of peace,</div>
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when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!</div>
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My Comforter, my All in All,</div>
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here in the love of Christ I stand.</div>
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In Christ alone! who took on flesh</div>
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Fulness of God in helpless babe!</div>
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This gift of love and righteousness</div>
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Scorned by the ones he came to save:</div>
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Till on that cross as Jesus died,</div>
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The wrath of God was satisfied -</div>
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For every sin on Him was laid;</div>
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Here in the death of Christ I live.</div>
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There in the ground His body lay</div>
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Light of the world by darkness slain:</div>
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Then bursting forth in glorious Day</div>
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Up from the grave he rose again!</div>
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And as He stands in victory</div>
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Sin's curse has lost its grip on me,</div>
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For I am His and He is mine -</div>
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Bought with the precious blood of Christ.</div>
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No guilt in life, no fear in death,</div>
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This is the power of Christ in me;</div>
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From life's first cry to final breath.</div>
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Jesus commands my destiny.</div>
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No power of hell, no scheme of man,</div>
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Can ever pluck me from His hand;</div>
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Till He returns or calls me home,</div>
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Here in the power of Christ I'll stand.<br />
<br />
"In Christ Alone"<br />
~Keith Getty and Stuart Townsend~<br />
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Content in Him, May 2016</div>
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Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-89370835377918503892016-02-03T09:21:00.001-05:002020-01-10T19:57:48.905-05:00The Society of the Desperately Dependent<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
A new and exciting challenge has been laid at my feet. In total dependence upon God I have received my marching orders. It has been a true delight to meet with nine faithful women in our home and focus our attention on the lessons God has for us each week. </div>
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We have completed our first book, <u>As A Man Thinketh</u>, by James Allen. Weekly reading assignments were given out along with occasional writing or journaling assignments. The members have responded with overwhelming appreciation for what the Lord has been doing in their hearts and minds. We have exercised our muscles of discernment as we dissected Mr. Allen's work. We have been made acutely aware of anti-Biblical thinking patterns in our lives and have been challenged to place the filter of Philippians 4:8 at the gateway of our minds. What a blessing! </div>
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A close walk with the Saviour is not a thing of chance or favor, it is the result of systematic, diligent, persistent work on the part of the soul which is desperately dependent upon His marvelous grace.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "angsana new" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><u>The
Society of the Desperately Dependent</u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Acknowledging</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
our complete dependence upon our loving Lord and Saviour Jesus
Christ: "Unto Thee and Thee only!" For without Him we can do nothing of
any lasting value.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Seeking
</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">to
grow in knowledge and wisdom through the diligent study of His Word,
the dear and precious Bible.</span></span><span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>
</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
are treasure seekers, mining for goodness, to the end that our glory
may sing praise to God and not be silent. Psalm 30:12.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Feeding</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
the soul, the body, the spirit and the mind that which is
beautiful, pure and good for our edification and for the purpose of
strengthening the inner man and therefore increasing the effects of
our influence in the sphere in which we have been placed by God.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“<span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;">Grace and peace be multiplied unto you through the knowledge of God, and of Jesus our Lord, according as His divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him that hath called us to glory and virtue.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif; font-size: large;">2 Peter 1:2-3</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“<span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;">Make
me to understand the way of thy precepts: so shall I talk of thy
wondrous works.” Psalm 119:27</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“<span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;">Teach
me thy way, O LORD; I will walk in thy truth: unite my heart to fear
thy name.” Psalm 86:11</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“<span style="font-family: "traditional arabic" , serif;">...saith
the LORD: but to this man will I look, even to him that is poor and
of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word.” Isaiah 65:2</span></span></div>
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Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259318958437019094.post-64471967675554669472016-02-01T16:35:00.001-05:002016-03-08T18:26:04.628-05:00Using Your Talents<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Onward
and Upward </span>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">E.
A. Roy</span></div>
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“<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Without
His love I can do nothing, </span>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">with
His love there is nothing I cannot do.” </span>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">-Unknown</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Greetings,
Fellow Missionary:</span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">A
new year, a fresh slate, like a blanket of new-fallen snow, this
pure, unscathed year lays before us. Live, my friend, live! Be not
content to watch others live. Be not content to imagine living, go
ahead and live! Step out by faith and do what you know your Lord has
placed in your heart to do. Live! Live and love without reserve.
Be not afraid of learning and of trying new things. Don’t rest
with being spoon-fed the Scriptures—learn to cook the meal
yourself! Learn how to run that kitchen and discover for yourself
the mechanics of digging into the preparations for the feast. It’s
a wonderful, challenging, totally rewarding, life-long pursuit that
brings you closer to your Lord.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">God
has made you and saved you for a purpose. What is it that He has
particularly placed in your heart? What are you longing to give to
Him? Is it a service you long to do for others? Is it the gift you
have of encouraging others that He calls you to do? Is it the gift
of teaching little ones with patient hand and tongue? Is it the gift
of sharing creations from your kitchen that would go a long way in
relieving a weary mother? Perhaps you are being called to take an
interest in someone; you never know how far those ripples of love
will reach. Surely, showing our love to someone our Lord loves
dearly (and both the lost and saved are loved by Him), must bring joy
to His heart. And, oh, the thought of bringing joy to His heart
above all hearts!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Dear
Christian Believer, find your one song and sing, sing, sing! You
have been wired in a particular way for a particular purpose. Seek
to know what that purpose is! </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>The
“simple” acts that come “naturally” to you are easy to
despise and to regard as nothing. However, it seems that these are
precisely the gifts and talents that God has placed in your care to
use to serve Him. </b></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Perhaps
you have the ability to spread sunshine wherever you go. You find it
easy to strike up a conversation and leave a person feeling lighter
than when you found them. This is a precious gift. It’s a very
portable one, too, as all of them usually are. A nursing home can be
a dark place in need of just that sort of sunshine. Even your Sunday
school table can benefit. And most certainly your own abode can use
the gift and warmth of that blessed sunshine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Perhaps
your compassion for others causes prayer requests to come to your
mind continually. Your ministry of prayer will have results not to
be seen but before we dine with our Saviour in heaven. Lest you think
lightly of this, it’s certainly not satan who brings these request
before you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Maybe
it’s natural for you to relate to others what the Lord has taught
you through your reading. This is a gift that should be nurtured and
cared for as a precious means of edifying one another. </span>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Are
you a good listener? God can use this gift as you take opportunity
to pray while the other is speaking and seek to turn your friend’s
eyes back to Scripture and back to a resting place under God’s
wing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Organizing
things is your specialty? There’s a place for you if only you would
see your gift for what it is and minister to others with it.</span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>You
truly are a missionary and you are currently on the field.</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
May I ask you, how is your work going? Your “support” comes
from God Himself. He has supplied your basic needs and furnished the
tools you require. As wife and mother, or daughter and single woman,
God has surely laid your “people group” on your heart. Take time
to examine your field. Learn their language. Know the people, seek
to meet their needs and minister to them with all fervor. </span>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">As
wives and mothers, our family is our field. Where they are, is where
our heart should be</span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>.
Our lives are to be totally engulfed in seeking God’s moving
amidst these people and seeking to reach them through our words and
our actions.</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
Our lives can and should be “spent for Christ” on this blessed
field of service. It is a temporary post, however, and our energies
must be focused according to the present situations. This current
people group will move on and we will have grown and changed through
this process. We will then take the lessons that we learned with us
as God moves us to our next post. </span>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">You
are perfectly suited for your particular post. God has outfitted you
with all things necessary, though some may be only in “seed form”
and will require nurturing and care to grow into maturity. </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Action</i></span></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
is required on </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>our</i></span></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
part as we work </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>with</i></span></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
God to accomplish His purposes. </span>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Total
dependence on God is a necessary prerequisite to any and all tasks
you perform. The more we realize we are indebted to God, the more
grateful we should become, and the more joyously dependent we should
be. </span>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Can
I challenge you to allow yourself to be desperately dependent on Him;
desperately dependent on His hand to move in your home and in your
life; desperately dependent on His Word to calm your heart and lead
you forward. </span>
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</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">It’s
a new year; take on a new challenge. What if this was to be your
last year to leave a mark in the hearts of others for Christ? Pick
up your tool, my friend, and start carving! Find your niche, your
talent and lavishly give. </span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>“And
blessed is she that believed: for there shall be a performance of
those things which were told her from the Lord.”</i></span></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">
Give a graceful touch to all you do</span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>;
</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><u><b>do
it for Him and as unto Him</b></u></span></span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><u>.</u></span></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;">Hide
not your light under a bushel, let your light so shine among men that
they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in
heaven! </span>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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“<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Only
one life</i></span></span></div>
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‘<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Twill
soon be past;</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "comic sans ms" , cursive;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Only
what’s done for Christ will last.”</i></span></span></div>
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Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05167815198176288932noreply@blogger.com0