tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61161373869058240992024-02-20T22:06:34.863-08:00Reflections of a Mothers HeartSometimes it takes far more than the rod, To point little precious souls to God.My list will be crumpled and thrown away, I’ve had little children to love today!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-27350744205734923842010-01-15T15:20:00.000-08:002010-01-15T15:45:11.708-08:00Brighten Your Corner of the World<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivYhupt9RmkDq1ACWqqSfUuZ6axfbVdgqPhUtfLj4ZcUhPrn6JLh4q20COvwJSX6zXWM9OcpWwCtTbbJu4AaqhLZlyiyv4HVGmbd_olZHCUldSD9TUAF8QBTUEFZhMcLR36xgDNr13IJU/s1600-h/purple-flowers.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivYhupt9RmkDq1ACWqqSfUuZ6axfbVdgqPhUtfLj4ZcUhPrn6JLh4q20COvwJSX6zXWM9OcpWwCtTbbJu4AaqhLZlyiyv4HVGmbd_olZHCUldSD9TUAF8QBTUEFZhMcLR36xgDNr13IJU/s400/purple-flowers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427116216420011634" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em></em></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Georgia;" >Do not wait until some deed of greatness you may do, </span></em><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Georgia;" >Do not wait to shed your light afar,</span></em><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Georgia;" >To the many duties ever near you now be true,</span></em><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Georgia;" ><br />Brighten the corner where you are.</span></em><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Georgia;" >Just above are clouded skies you may help to clear,</span></em><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Georgia;" >Let not narrow self your way debar;</span></em><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Georgia;" >Though into one heart alone may fall your song of cheer,</span></em><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Georgia;" >Brighten the corner where you are.</span></em><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Georgia;" >Here for all your talent you may surely find a need,</span></em></span><em style="font-weight: bold;"></em><br /><em style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Georgia;" ><span style="font-size:85%;">Here reflect the bright and Morning Star;</span></span></em><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Georgia;" >Even from your humble hand the Bread of Life may feed,</span></em></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);font-family:Georgia;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Brighten the corner where you are</span>. <br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">~ </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" >By Ina Ogdon</span></span></em></span><br /></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-family:Georgia;" > </span><span style=";font-family:Georgia;color:black;" ></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-family:Georgia;" ><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Georgia;">Some "Bright" Ideas</span></strong><br /><br />1. Clear off your kitchen table and put a fresh bouquet of flowers on it<br />2. Let in the outside air; open all the windows and dust with lemon spray<br />3. Wash your sheets and let them air dry outside<br />4. Put a roast in the crock pot<br />5. Put on some good uplifting gospel music or sing!<br />6. Light a sweet smelling candle<br />7. Bake some cookies or bread<br />8. Write a love letter to your spouse; tell him three things you appreciate about him<br />9. Write a special scripture down and put it somewhere you will read it often<br />10. Plan a good character building Bible lesson to bring your children<br />11. SMILE</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-19164184363667596052009-10-10T23:36:00.000-07:002009-10-11T00:13:43.797-07:00Too Beautiful For Earth<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh91pfYRUT4-w6KPT3xI48O_1HOqIAbvys0tMiJV0QggIdrfa4z2lq7ti8qNlWXG8HulFTJj1Po2GTQgeBXdDUiz-jpHfRgxpLr03Km6ukLtesXFSVX2_UU3uAN53BiGIn5hTv6J5wQHI/s1600-h/angel%2520from%2520heaven%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh91pfYRUT4-w6KPT3xI48O_1HOqIAbvys0tMiJV0QggIdrfa4z2lq7ti8qNlWXG8HulFTJj1Po2GTQgeBXdDUiz-jpHfRgxpLr03Km6ukLtesXFSVX2_UU3uAN53BiGIn5hTv6J5wQHI/s400/angel%2520from%2520heaven%5B1%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391228767839474498" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:180%;" ><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:180%;" >"An angel in the book of life<br />wrote down my baby's birth,<br />and whispered as she closed the book<span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Too Beautiful For Earth." </span></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Unknown Author</span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-17073560223865766232009-10-02T01:07:00.000-07:002009-10-02T01:49:32.790-07:00To My Baby<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigwN_buu1rbnG-5K5ZzCV5aXxbLqj6Zvm-iHYCdmracmQ2-qxvHuURRXOWIUItnvqJq0DsdMf4hMt96sDJ1ZfnZXBbphCmaCg1EplAFr1Xw65snx8-rtur4a6RQVhwG1rHEI0kxpCrWVI/s1600-h/baby's+hand.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigwN_buu1rbnG-5K5ZzCV5aXxbLqj6Zvm-iHYCdmracmQ2-qxvHuURRXOWIUItnvqJq0DsdMf4hMt96sDJ1ZfnZXBbphCmaCg1EplAFr1Xw65snx8-rtur4a6RQVhwG1rHEI0kxpCrWVI/s400/baby's+hand.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387920925264298274" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">A little life, a precious pearl<br />growing within my womb<br />Maybe a son?<br />Maybe a daughter?<br />Can't wait till I see it bloom-<br />I have a name for you little one<br />I picked it with thought and care<br />I saw you with love and tenderness<br />and saw that you were so fair<br />I knew you would be a special child<br />and I had special plans in view<br />if you were a girl, a sweet one you'd be<br />if a son you'd be strong and true<br />I held you and kissed your soft little face<br />in daydreams I'd rock you and sing<br />of angels in heaven, and Jesus love<br />and all of earths sweetest things<br />I bought you some little items you'd need<br />and planned you a cozy room<br />And oh the joy to think of the years<br />I had to watch you bloom<br />I could hardly wait till I felt you flutter<br />and turning with a swirl<br />And day by day my heart filled with love<br />for my little precious pearl<br />But God chose to have you blooming for him<br />in the beauty of heavens land<br />And your mother is holding you, in her heart<br />as though she were holding your hand!<br /><span style="font-size:78%;">~By Elizabeth Ann</span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-26792920402161823472009-09-30T13:15:00.000-07:002009-09-30T13:32:38.714-07:00God's Way is Perfect!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3J5icn8LB1MoaOYF6km1Gt-VWkVlScwsnji0QXpJW5tzjS1UmI-L9I4JzB7N-ox3xrMo4MGZc5kwOrThp2NBLEpLsBIKj-rvQsnWu9HNFseF9ZIqTC0fD1dX35ItuneejxkQGRyH_wE/s1600-h/3510059306_7eeff2217f.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3J5icn8LB1MoaOYF6km1Gt-VWkVlScwsnji0QXpJW5tzjS1UmI-L9I4JzB7N-ox3xrMo4MGZc5kwOrThp2NBLEpLsBIKj-rvQsnWu9HNFseF9ZIqTC0fD1dX35ItuneejxkQGRyH_wE/s400/3510059306_7eeff2217f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387359819404319346" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">I believe I have come to terms with my loss and have peace about it. I had to remember that it is not about me, but about God and glorifying HIM and letting HIM have his way no matter what that means. I cannot let my emotions get in the way of that purpose. I gave me heart and life to God and I have never regretted that and will never regret that. He is such a good and righteous Father and though I may not understand, I can trust him- FAITH, HOPE and LOVE- not faith in this world<span style="font-style: italic;"> but in GOD</span>, Not hope for the things of this world, but for RIGHTEOUSNESS and PURITY and HEAVEN! Not love for just anything but the LOVE of GOD shed abroad in our hearts. I wouldn't take my baby back even if I could because <span style="font-style: italic;">I KNOW</span> he is in the loving beautiful arms of Jesus and is much better off than with me. And if God saw fit to form in me a little soul for just a few weeks, then praise God forever! I was BEAUTIFULLY pregnant and I would never change that for anything!</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">I LOVE GOD so very much and know that His way IS perfect!!!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-68950127616601290852009-09-29T01:06:00.000-07:002009-09-29T01:31:51.750-07:00Ten Things to Give Thanks For<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">"In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">1 Thess. 5:18</span></span><br /></div><br />Ten things I can give God thanks for-<br /><br /><ol><li>The four weeks I had to feel beautifully pregnant</li><li>That I am a JOYFUL mother of three beautiful, saved and sanctified children</li><li>My sweet and gentle husband</li><li>Ultra sounds that can give you a picture of your baby to cherish forever</li><li>My daughter Felecia driving me to the doctors, making dinner, cleaning etc..</li><li>A quiet home in the country to rest in</li><li>The cooling of the weather- the whispering winds</li><li>Chelsea telling me I am her hero and that she feels like she lost a member of her own family</li><li>Blogging that helps me get my mind off the terrible cramping I am having right now</li><li>All the love poured out for our family</li></ol><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Thank you everyone for all the love, prayers, concern and sympathy that you have poured out on our family. We feel so very blessed!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-25102208305389447722009-09-28T13:23:00.000-07:002009-09-28T13:27:07.427-07:00The LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away!<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">"the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD."</span> Job 1:21<br /></div><br />My little pearl sprouted wings and flew into the arms of Jesus. What a glorious life-<span style="font-style: italic;">from the womb to the arms of Jesus</span>- to never have to know the sorrows, sin, and heartache of this world. What a blessing!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-90272177697373230062009-09-14T20:06:00.000-07:002009-09-14T20:59:31.531-07:00First Picture of Baby<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirrKUHdatQLZGijOmB_hzQiTAtAzjuPyeGC-xVWZEvrWeA6V_YPX5IQFP0JQ2vaD6_2RhsvxqwFFP7Th2tk0ibDRQM3zs1auZkwLFs3wVbgOjoWqwo9-AnwY1v7AdCRDt9YjEn5KxXuIs/s1600-h/babySept14.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirrKUHdatQLZGijOmB_hzQiTAtAzjuPyeGC-xVWZEvrWeA6V_YPX5IQFP0JQ2vaD6_2RhsvxqwFFP7Th2tk0ibDRQM3zs1auZkwLFs3wVbgOjoWqwo9-AnwY1v7AdCRDt9YjEn5KxXuIs/s400/babySept14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381528255452002130" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Baby is in the middle in the black center. The yoke sack is the round black tinier circle and the baby is the white area attached to it. </span><br /><br /></div>I had my initial OBG appointment today and the baby looks good so far. Praise God! When they first looked for it they couldn't get a picture. I thought, "I knew it. FALSE pregnancy! She's gonna tell me there is no baby and you are having a false pregnancy syndrome. But they altered the procedure and got a picture. And OH FOR JOY. Its little heart was beating!!! I will go in two weeks for another picture because it is so early right now.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-82376574924063722332009-09-07T21:31:00.000-07:002009-09-07T22:01:18.354-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj22psHCkEE0u1hSb-cBWDQjVlz6hM7mC5M__H1wF9tOorNPNjZ43NqSfU2dOE2Vp0X16DOJmxkptDm0SjGYCEmX1xH0WjT1CsGiKENvm4BKqkbFTVERESxhiKQKxjm_eLp1PSzG__drxk/s1600-h/momsphotoshoot+030.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj22psHCkEE0u1hSb-cBWDQjVlz6hM7mC5M__H1wF9tOorNPNjZ43NqSfU2dOE2Vp0X16DOJmxkptDm0SjGYCEmX1xH0WjT1CsGiKENvm4BKqkbFTVERESxhiKQKxjm_eLp1PSzG__drxk/s400/momsphotoshoot+030.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378952898049538034" border="0" /></a>Saturday afternoon I grabbed a cheap pregnancy test while I was out shopping. It couldn't possibly be that I was pregnant at 41 after nine years of thinking I was no longer able to conceive. But, I had not had a period in almost two months and didn't feel one coming on, so maybe I should just make sure.<br />I hid the test in my purse and when all was clear I crept quietly into the back bathroom to run the test. As I fumbled to open the box I said to myself, <span style="font-style: italic;">"this is so stupid. You are not pregnant."</span> But I had bought the test. I might as well take it.<br />I had an instant positive result. I didn't believe it. I rechecked what the positive result should look like. It was true. <span style="font-style: italic;">I was pregnant!</span><br />I began to tremble and hit my knees right there beside the bathroom sink. <span style="font-style: italic;">"O my Lord," I prayed, "O My Lord, could it be? Could it really be? O, thank you my God, thank you! Thank you! That you would look upon me in such a way. That you would see fit to bless me so at this age in my life. O My God..."</span><br />I was beside myself. It was as if a husband loved his wife so much that he thought and thought of the most beautiful gift he could give her and came and presented it to her as a surprise. It was like the Lord said, <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">"Here is a present, just for you! Just because I love you!"</span><br />I thanked Him over and over throughout the day, and I am still praising him and thanking him. Sometimes I cry for the joy of it all, that he could be so good to me. I am in awe and wonder!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-6897557547818910402009-03-09T22:36:00.000-07:002009-03-09T23:01:52.481-07:00Who's That Baby?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFn9RFbSsTrlkwfD_vKNKx9Bf9xQJiyDtPJzE8kODDuM9bBJUsjaFQYrAcGY3TRVOGw5Uzsw5MK4_T6vOI2E4u6tkkuUD-NO_GP_Jk_tPecvSal4xHDHMyXeTY2jYeK4EtGajElmYEjs/s1600-h/Shaney+Boy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311432894062677266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 281px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFn9RFbSsTrlkwfD_vKNKx9Bf9xQJiyDtPJzE8kODDuM9bBJUsjaFQYrAcGY3TRVOGw5Uzsw5MK4_T6vOI2E4u6tkkuUD-NO_GP_Jk_tPecvSal4xHDHMyXeTY2jYeK4EtGajElmYEjs/s400/Shaney+Boy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUq7jqLZ1Uf_sMr5hayw-AFsaN1kPFtfNCXYE4fftLr9Onfha6CKeQKsLBfiJW9nhOkIFCjlFzc6BtP-rtYW81VrhgC9Xr_DpQAOYsTY9P0zn_V-bcyX3VR9fAMRd9V4G1wsA2r0dNpiI/s1600-h/Mom.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311432889502847906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 336px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUq7jqLZ1Uf_sMr5hayw-AFsaN1kPFtfNCXYE4fftLr9Onfha6CKeQKsLBfiJW9nhOkIFCjlFzc6BtP-rtYW81VrhgC9Xr_DpQAOYsTY9P0zn_V-bcyX3VR9fAMRd9V4G1wsA2r0dNpiI/s400/Mom.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIKsDHloyXqws_27OjlMLxkgiERcpfUzUGX8vEw3ZNcWVX4qAB9B8WUoLIbgHKnRGrqeBrNEGRwM-IIqzOZLGVBsHjRHJoz-JeVqr53ihmwO7rs7Oppmg1AWwT-9EyZMuv_RLttaVHNDM/s1600-h/feleciababy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311432884182704162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 285px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIKsDHloyXqws_27OjlMLxkgiERcpfUzUGX8vEw3ZNcWVX4qAB9B8WUoLIbgHKnRGrqeBrNEGRwM-IIqzOZLGVBsHjRHJoz-JeVqr53ihmwO7rs7Oppmg1AWwT-9EyZMuv_RLttaVHNDM/s400/feleciababy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVwqckH5DzYgdP1tdcgv84NCrYHSdnz7pDWuLOQl5U90whQXM2H4f_ZRWWW5BwxR1P31PXombn9HDsESDLGmnDNY4vNfegXXAg3YB2qvh-SW4CNtMK4LeNBcXZGE7mwWFXiN2DF6LkHSk/s1600-h/Dad.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311432879552870066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVwqckH5DzYgdP1tdcgv84NCrYHSdnz7pDWuLOQl5U90whQXM2H4f_ZRWWW5BwxR1P31PXombn9HDsESDLGmnDNY4vNfegXXAg3YB2qvh-SW4CNtMK4LeNBcXZGE7mwWFXiN2DF6LkHSk/s400/Dad.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzc3GxfxhOz3Q25OUeGQ_0mWe8ntvElTuSpxrHJ42yYJ_Qi1MEeDtK8Gs9AaV7NMzLikYlriFOd38X-dV1M9SRxRCEtR3kbFYMC_Rc_wRegI3dhEbKc7CBUrhdJW1p4LsjC3Qa2eH_J6I/s1600-h/03-09-2009+10%3B24%3B16PM.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311432877298718578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 281px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzc3GxfxhOz3Q25OUeGQ_0mWe8ntvElTuSpxrHJ42yYJ_Qi1MEeDtK8Gs9AaV7NMzLikYlriFOd38X-dV1M9SRxRCEtR3kbFYMC_Rc_wRegI3dhEbKc7CBUrhdJW1p4LsjC3Qa2eH_J6I/s400/03-09-2009+10%3B24%3B16PM.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPbXdJTMe9d4g1VdhQasXRfC_Zy0q1ooIBAWFXvhm9lDG5BL05j1DXacsvpJIwemMu1YeFIzkBvUqiqcr8rSB9iTzxdyUm0_HnQVNxqImUfmo-nyCw5gVBegUpp7AcmP5XCtvZBIJRAs/s1600-h/03-09-2009+10%3B35%3B19PM.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311430826305102786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 188px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPbXdJTMe9d4g1VdhQasXRfC_Zy0q1ooIBAWFXvhm9lDG5BL05j1DXacsvpJIwemMu1YeFIzkBvUqiqcr8rSB9iTzxdyUm0_HnQVNxqImUfmo-nyCw5gVBegUpp7AcmP5XCtvZBIJRAs/s400/03-09-2009+10%3B35%3B19PM.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">When Children Smile</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;color:#000000;">by Mary Evelyn Notgrass</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">when children smile</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">the world looks brighter</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">and hearts, unburdened, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">aren't so heavy</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">when children laugh</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">the world seems nicer</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">and problems tend to float away</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">when children sing</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">the world sounds better</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">and eternal things are easier to see</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">when we become like children</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">the world looks brighter</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">the world seems nicer</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">the world sounds better</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#3333ff;">and eternal things are easier to see</span></div><span style="color:#3333ff;"></span></div><div> </div><div><div align="center"><a class="moz-txt-link-freetext" href="http://www.notgrass.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-size:78%;color:#000000;"><strong>Notgrass Company; Teaching the Heart, Soul, and Mind </strong></span></a><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-10397076751491068152008-11-29T09:56:00.000-08:002008-11-29T10:04:14.535-08:00Autumn Give-Away!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDHMoA841sT8AGpVE_r7STpj9y3vGDCD-CDdGJSuaEuTegYjkq7EQ0FmAzcgzIUXn0LmD1CS26IHeld2ubQp-sM2W7nThh1OHMQDEEVqDI4FQg8jNSpU-pWqXdbaSkWVNccbmMAR44sU/s1600-h/Thanksgiving-Pooh-Pumpkin-Pie-sm%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274141618654809506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDHMoA841sT8AGpVE_r7STpj9y3vGDCD-CDdGJSuaEuTegYjkq7EQ0FmAzcgzIUXn0LmD1CS26IHeld2ubQp-sM2W7nThh1OHMQDEEVqDI4FQg8jNSpU-pWqXdbaSkWVNccbmMAR44sU/s320/Thanksgiving-Pooh-Pumpkin-Pie-sm%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#993300;">I have posted my first official give away. I am giving away 1 lb of pumpkin fudge to one lucky winner. Click here for more details: </span></strong><a href="http://lizannvan.blogspot.com/2008/11/autumn-give-away.html"><strong><span style="color:#ff6600;">Autumn Give-Away!</span></strong></a></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#993300;">Have fun!!!</span></strong></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-80826359841999356442008-11-06T11:33:00.000-08:002008-11-06T12:57:08.552-08:00Happy 16th Birthday Shane!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEbJfFcShjS1qsyCzxH4_6KDHOUo0Y6hDcW_-b62nNbVo-4xppnV3F-t1znfwvtIEg_DgH6ZrndSDutPOCt6AFfvXLQP2eYR5s7_yyxGaJ06plUopnr3WHCa8FZZsgFTkMJS7AhA61FZI/s1600-h/BabyShane1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265641826339119074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEbJfFcShjS1qsyCzxH4_6KDHOUo0Y6hDcW_-b62nNbVo-4xppnV3F-t1znfwvtIEg_DgH6ZrndSDutPOCt6AFfvXLQP2eYR5s7_yyxGaJ06plUopnr3WHCa8FZZsgFTkMJS7AhA61FZI/s320/BabyShane1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxsXjyCtbdA5KohKzIHoMPnsrWKoSgcp5ziEFqyN04P8GM-cNJVS5Jmp_vPVhRVH8qeYLlazCS_ZvLIHlvYZSpfo6EAUC9c71EMjk6hZO1aApvoalqmkdeMM7KK3kV8bUUfI8gWlTGOQ/s1600-h/100_5738.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265641823221178274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxsXjyCtbdA5KohKzIHoMPnsrWKoSgcp5ziEFqyN04P8GM-cNJVS5Jmp_vPVhRVH8qeYLlazCS_ZvLIHlvYZSpfo6EAUC9c71EMjk6hZO1aApvoalqmkdeMM7KK3kV8bUUfI8gWlTGOQ/s320/100_5738.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#000066;">16 things about Shane you may or may not know-</span></strong></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000066;">1. He is quiet because his name starts with 'Sh", but he does love to socialize</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">2. He loves to read books that feed the intellect and fire the American passion</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">3. He has great faith, courage and determination</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">4. He doesn't want to get married because he says it will take up too much of his time</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">5. He sets his clock and gets up and at 'em every morning all on his own</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">6. At birth, his head was so big that the OBGYN cried out "Holy COW! Look at the size of that kid" when he crowned.</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">7. He fell off his bike when he first learned to ride and had to get stitches in his forehead. </span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">8. He fractured his arm while staying at Donner and continued fishing the whole weakened in spite of the pain (we didn't know it was fractured) He never cried even when the doctor broke it and reset it. </span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">9. He has a lot of love and respect for his grandpa Van Cleve</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">10. He is currently taking Ear training and Music Theory at Sierra College</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">11. He plans on graduating in 2009. He has earned all his credits</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">12. He loves Chemistry, and other academics</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">13. He loves classical music and plays it beautifully</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">14. He loves to tease his little sister Priscilla</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">15. He is a natural teacher, observed by his mom. He's patiently worked with Priscilla many times teaching her many new things.</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;">16. He has very high values and lofty goals for a 16 year old boy!</span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#000066;"><strong><em>Check out his blogs:</em></strong> <a href="http://let-freedom-ring-shane.blogspot.com/">Let Freedom Ring</a>, <a href="http://shanes-music.blogspot.com/">Music Man,</a> <a href="http://shanevchick.blogspot.com/">Welcome to the Farm,</a> <a href="http://www.shanes-trees.blogspot.com/">Whats Growin' On?</a></span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-34030797222879590862008-11-01T10:35:00.000-07:002008-11-01T10:37:10.330-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLCuHgnFYPR5XWGm9FXQX-s_H33_Okm-etiGVzmpf0fl5MjzpBLs0VPOWEnA4Ifu_vhaViiM8WCEi6wzOTx5ksWTOCmJamVX0-3RoOYX0KNnK1T_RIgWe6-712kZ5UdnapZovBb_JOrQA/s1600-h/0640%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263743412732248162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLCuHgnFYPR5XWGm9FXQX-s_H33_Okm-etiGVzmpf0fl5MjzpBLs0VPOWEnA4Ifu_vhaViiM8WCEi6wzOTx5ksWTOCmJamVX0-3RoOYX0KNnK1T_RIgWe6-712kZ5UdnapZovBb_JOrQA/s320/0640%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"The formative period for building character for eternity is in the nursery. The mother is queen of that realm and sways a scepter more potent than that of kings or priests."</span></em> ~Author Unknown</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-36495548996404625552008-10-03T04:25:00.000-07:002008-10-03T06:58:44.480-07:00Happy 13th Birthday Priscilla<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQ_9uynYC8k1pOsKmyk62e48LMHGIqlVzNK654tWIIhBu3GWYK6xKMXBy4FDWjom-xjf0uReTJCwnUV3tMagOypthAMzlatDY_hzbCrDmbUT0BtqpA_M3qGIv2moF2apOnQItuOJ2ZMI/s1600-h/labor+day+082+014.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252925599834503218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQ_9uynYC8k1pOsKmyk62e48LMHGIqlVzNK654tWIIhBu3GWYK6xKMXBy4FDWjom-xjf0uReTJCwnUV3tMagOypthAMzlatDY_hzbCrDmbUT0BtqpA_M3qGIv2moF2apOnQItuOJ2ZMI/s320/labor+day+082+014.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgduAl7LDHMu5WBAf-A1lgqJSzOcci3sXBsYY-lbBmS9mC4nb5o2XLh_P-FJgKF9zpSzky8fAicvfZT2LrCWxV7bSChCESQ40fknqeyUdGcadPfpJvJOWMMppuTmf-cMnLQeby5dCGFB7c/s1600-h/Priscilla.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252911456141600082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgduAl7LDHMu5WBAf-A1lgqJSzOcci3sXBsYY-lbBmS9mC4nb5o2XLh_P-FJgKF9zpSzky8fAicvfZT2LrCWxV7bSChCESQ40fknqeyUdGcadPfpJvJOWMMppuTmf-cMnLQeby5dCGFB7c/s320/Priscilla.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hdcvCGtx0Fn9i4TfoECShv4ZjSqBEW1oKD-fKRy_2oQymCE3gPEtQKrB_u2_cCJWEpvr4WZfuM4oYNUMjNQddWTl1deUfDzd1t5q7WJ0NMvSNo3XUZ-cSTSHkOe-FtYOLIUbaazd6wg/s1600-h/Priscillababy2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252911228599898690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hdcvCGtx0Fn9i4TfoECShv4ZjSqBEW1oKD-fKRy_2oQymCE3gPEtQKrB_u2_cCJWEpvr4WZfuM4oYNUMjNQddWTl1deUfDzd1t5q7WJ0NMvSNo3XUZ-cSTSHkOe-FtYOLIUbaazd6wg/s320/Priscillababy2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>The due date for my third child was set for September 22, 1995. With my previous two pregnancies I had to be induced because my body refused to go into labor on its own. So I wasn't surprised when on October 2 the doctor said there was still no signs of delivery. I walked around and around the back yard impatient and irritated. I was more than ready to have this baby. I went to the health food store and purchased a natural herb that was meant to help induce labor. It worked! and for the first time I went into labor on my own. </div><br /><div>I was estatic when at 7:00 pm. I arrived at the hospital and found out that I had dialated to a 6. But from that point everything came to a stand still and at 12:00 a.m. October 3 I had not gone any further. The past five hours had been an agonizing nightmare that had only just begun. My blood pressure was really high and the baby was stressing. At one point it's heart beat had completely stopped. The nurse kept telling me she thought the cord was wrapped around it's neck which caused me alot of extra stress and worry. Then, they tried to induce me and I had contraction upon contraction with no relief inbetween. </div><br /><div>Finally a head nurse came in and forced open my uterus. It was so horribly painful I litterally screamed. But it worked and at 1:30 a.m. out came a beautiful baby girl. They laid her on my stomach and I remember stroking her soft little head and saying, "So your the sweet thing that was causing all this." </div><br /><div>I was estatic to have a new little girl. They took her over to a corner of the room and I waited for them to clean her up and hand her to me like they had done with my first two babies. Everyone was uncannily quiet and I began to feel ill at ease. </div><br /><div>"Is she o.k.? When can I hold her?" </div><br /><div>"She's fine shhh, she's just not breathing yet, but they are working and she will be fine in a minute." </div><br /><div>"Troy, are you praying?" I asked. </div><br /><div>"Yes, I'm praying." </div><br /><div>Then I heard them say to call in Dr.- the pediatrician on duty. They lifted her up and said to me, "look at your baby" then took her out. I waited believing that soon they would bring her back and lay her in my arms and everything would be o.k. Troy called our pastor and asked him to pray. It wasn't long after that the whole church was praying for us. </div><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div>The pediatrician came in and told us that our baby had breathed maconium into her lungs meaning that because of the stress, she had a bowl movement in the uterus and on the way out had inhaled this. This first bowel is a very sticky substance called maconium and is like tar in the lungs. It coats the inside of the lungs so oxygen cannot penetrate. This was a few days old, meaning I should have been induced earlier on, so that made it even worse.</div><br /><div>I asked if she was going to be alright and he said he did not know. </div><div>"When can I hold her?" </div><div>"Probably not for a few days." </div><div>"Can't I nurse her?" </div><div>"Not, now, we are trying to get oxygen into her." </div><br /><div>A few minutes later another nurse came in from Mercy San Juan and told us they were going to transfer her because she needed more intensive care than what this hospital could offer. She also said that she was on a venhilator... </div><br /><div>Another wait, then another visit, "we've found air outside the baby's lungs. She will have to have a chest tube put in." </div><div>"Is that bad?" </div><div>"Well, yes, they have to cut into her chest..." </div><div>A few minutes later, "Your baby has just had a seizure." </div><br />It was at that point hope diminished and I believed she was going to die. I was in shock and very frightened. Next they informed me that with our insurance they would have to transfer her to Sutter Memorial in down-town Sacramento.<br /><br /><div>At 5:30 a.m. they wheeled her in for us to see her before they transported her. She was all hooked up and looked dead to me and I broke down and started crying. Everything had turned into a nightmare. </div><br /><div></div><div>But a dear saint of God called me and encouraged me "Your baby is going to be just fine. I know God will take care of her.<br /></div><div>And God did. I was released from the hospital at 10:30 a.m. that morning so I could go be with her. Later we found out that Sutter Memorial had the top child care facility in the nation and had she gone to Mercy, she probably wouldn't have survived. God was moving before we even realized it. </div><div>October 4- they paralyzed her because she was fighting the venhilator, a new type that was a high jet venhilator that spiral jets the air into the lungs. At this time the doctor informed me she might or might not live. He wasn't sure how things would turn out and that she would be in the hospital a minimum of 30 days. </div><br /><div>My pastor came in and prayed over her. </div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252910892196144418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0XUSYL7n-5IN9iKhn7owiWHTXqigQ89R5rRP5idcOUymw-u99O8awwJU7aEFdZCKIh_2CuC8jClbiFtbh_x4aCMZDjYADQH495RZ5OMEXL-AnMSGw0DHmz7JHeuxcx_hlRikQKlaMMU8/s320/Priscillahospital2.jpg" border="0" />October 5 -they found another air bubble and had to cut another whole into her chest. She had tubes in everywhere; in her hands, feet, head, belly button, chest.... I was also informed they were probably going to give her a blood transfusion. I requester prayer explicitly for this because I did not want her to have one. </div><br /><div>October 6- They took her off the paralyzing medicine. She was moving and holding our fingers. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252910616698261186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfbyqEyGeEdA18ye3djRpeVTC-o0qheNoI0PekX7B48pEZKlfI02iqe0l9HmqZAMbLMkNj6fX9ExhL5V920R3codWU4k9aeYS6QfFvustcGYpzEozvgw2eV_yqOXabFKVX6fdD4Vm-s4E/s320/DadandPriscillahospital.jpg" border="0" />October 7- Her eyes were opened and they were bringing her down on the oxygen level and the pressure on the venhilator. She would cry whenever I left her. I stayed with her as much as possible. </div><br /><div>October 8 -She was sucking on a pacifier with the venhilator in her mouth. Started on tube feeding. Coloring looks good. </div><br /><div>October 9 -She came down to a low frequency venhilator </div><br /><div>October 10 -I held her for the first time I also bottle fed her. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252910344609386578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrh6xygvVporbW6DjwwvUfebquU-P_ycIM9S1Nso1cQVU9pSY6GyhAVFmXtA-08R7tKD_TBKUmuiZuAjJpu3n-TsrpE2afe8QNA0CHkdg7-0p4V5dCOY8n4s7ir5RZLw6sE1vUHKzwhBU/s320/MomandPriscillahospital1.jpg" border="0" />October 11- They let me breast feed her. "Don't be discouraged if she doesn't latch on right away", they warned, "When a baby doesn't nurse the first few days after birth the lose their natural instinct." She latched on quicker that my other two children. <strong><em>I knew this could only be the hand of my heavenly father</em></strong>. </div><br /><div>October 12- She came home.</div><br /><div><strong><em>What a miracle!</em></strong> When the respiratory therapist was escorting us to our car to leave the facilities, she asked the nurse, "What baby is this?" </div><div>"Priscilla Van Cleve." </div><div>"Your Kidding!? Did you know she was supposed to have a procedure done where they make an incision in her neck and drain all her blood and oxygenate it and then put it back in. It is a horrible procedure and there is only a 50/50 chance for survival. You consider that a good omen" said the respiratory therapist.</div><br /><div><strong><em>But I knew in my heart that an omen had nothing to do with it. My God had healed her. Great and marvelous are his ways!!!</em></strong></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-52506131541559093002008-08-27T17:56:00.000-07:002008-08-27T18:23:59.553-07:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Er6YwzWjVj1MDgFHAqgrzVvdBcVO0fgTRYPgqbDQgNUMD5kURXEVgVT05mIPj39fldZseFhWVhHcodp2jI-sFgRC268a5-Y76rv6CnafD_eNFf_mkVJ8S8qbRu0ZbJtRpSQ8ZqntxgQ/s1600-h/lesson-in-grace-art%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239372494543353138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Er6YwzWjVj1MDgFHAqgrzVvdBcVO0fgTRYPgqbDQgNUMD5kURXEVgVT05mIPj39fldZseFhWVhHcodp2jI-sFgRC268a5-Y76rv6CnafD_eNFf_mkVJ8S8qbRu0ZbJtRpSQ8ZqntxgQ/s320/lesson-in-grace-art%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong><br /></strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"><strong>"When a home is ruled according to God's Word, </strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"><strong>angels might be asked to stay with us, </strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;"><strong>and they would not find themselves out of their element."</strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">~Charles Spurgeon</span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-21333112730411664022008-08-04T04:59:00.000-07:002008-12-09T00:00:25.338-08:00A Little Child Shall Lead Them...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIs28TkBtvTO3eAYgEcuX4J_R4LugLSOFxbvdGItyZiLjygY_NiZOSr0QnKgP7viFXnRF-mCbMi9reejMC_SBhkqhiq5vPHQm-yHxTxh5uRAf9VQsqnrv6_84Z1RW9jkvv5Drp1xlt2rs/s1600-h/A3YVQSBCAH0JJ8MCA7BHJTBCA0ME27JCA8UFPO9CAFRS5EBCALN26C7CA0UXZUACAIBYXB8CA0L8HTSCAR0ZKBICA7XWQ8OCA0QG71UCA0BIYTUCAKYVVINCAPB3RGJCAK83P6OCALVN43UCAKUHYR7.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230640472235110706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIs28TkBtvTO3eAYgEcuX4J_R4LugLSOFxbvdGItyZiLjygY_NiZOSr0QnKgP7viFXnRF-mCbMi9reejMC_SBhkqhiq5vPHQm-yHxTxh5uRAf9VQsqnrv6_84Z1RW9jkvv5Drp1xlt2rs/s320/A3YVQSBCAH0JJ8MCA7BHJTBCA0ME27JCA8UFPO9CAFRS5EBCALN26C7CA0UXZUACAIBYXB8CA0L8HTSCAR0ZKBICA7XWQ8OCA0QG71UCA0BIYTUCAKYVVINCAPB3RGJCAK83P6OCALVN43UCAKUHYR7.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#000000;"><em>The following excerpt is taken from the book, "Created to be His Help Meet". Although it is written to wives, there is a flip side to this coin that addresses husbands. Both wives and husbands are commanded of God to love <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">each other</span>. This love is the basis of any happy family. <strong>Without true <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">biblical</span> love, every other effort in raising our children is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">undermined</span></strong>. Loving our spouse is not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">contingent</span> upon their performance, but rather our obedience to Christ and His word. The fruits of the Spirit; love, joy, happiness, gentleness, meekness... always begin with our spouse. If we cultivate them there, they will be rooted within. </em><br /></span><div><em><span style="color:#000000;">The enemy of our soul knows this and will do all he can to get a wedge <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">in between</span> this most sacred union. We must die to self and fight this foe to the bitter end. Eternity is worth it and the spiritual health of our children depends upon it. </span></em></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>Let the Little Children Lead Them</strong> <em><span style="font-size:85%;">Written By Debbie Pearl</span></em></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"The most important thing a mother will do for her children is to create an atmosphere of peace and joy by deeply loving their Daddy and being satisfied with life. Several years ago, my husband did a Family Life seminar for homeschooling families at a large, very conservative church. The people were given age-appropriate <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">questionnaires</span> before we got there. Each <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">homeschooled</span> child (from every child who could write, up to single adults still living at home) was asked two questions:</div><br /><ol><br /><li>Is your home happy?</li><br /><li>What one thing would you like to see changed in your home that would make you a happier person?</li></ol><br /><div></div><br /><div>We were not expecting profound answers. We thought the children would say that they wanted name-brand clothes, or more freedom, or maybe more <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">access</span> to video games. We hoped we would get a few serious answers, like some kids saying they wanted to spend more time with their parents or they wanted to be trusted. Their responses shocked and saddened us. </div><br /><div>Out of about 75 responses, <em><strong>only two or three kids considered their home happy</strong></em>. Nearly all 75 answers of the second question were basically the same. Ten-year-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">olds</span> (who could barely spell) to single college-age adults had the same hopes and anguishes. They all said something to the effect of, "<em>I wish Mama and Daddy would love <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">each other</span></em>." The younger kids wrote answers like these: "<em>Our home would be happier if Mama and Daddy would not fight</em>," "<em>I would make my Mama and Daddy like <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">each other</span></em>," "<em>we would have a happy home if Mama would not talk bad about Daddy</em>" and " <em>I wish Mama would not talk back and make Daddy get all mad and yell.</em>" The older ones wrote along these lines, "<em>our house would be more peaceful if Mom would not walk around with this frozen bitterness. I feel as if we live in a war zone</em>." </div><br /><div>How do <strong>you</strong> love <strong>your</strong> children? Let these 75 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">homeschooled</span> kids lead you to this important truth: <strong>Love</strong> their Daddy. <strong>Honor</strong> their Daddy. <strong>Obey</strong> their Daddy. <strong>Forgive</strong> their Daddy." </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-12668683273674291102008-08-02T06:34:00.000-07:002008-12-09T00:00:25.524-08:00"Behold, I Stand at the Door and Knock!"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvkbU50MWAi-J4VVVlMXy6oXi6slj3ekPTdGNVS3cnNwVVEer5J2H629TQtHciwKQxjvmwhlhXpTx8ZwV0Pfx693J2E15D3bcq40MSz2V5vlkUemW9RagRrTee_3d6IXLjpDZac7G9-mA/s1600-h/jesus%2520knocking%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229917650048990034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvkbU50MWAi-J4VVVlMXy6oXi6slj3ekPTdGNVS3cnNwVVEer5J2H629TQtHciwKQxjvmwhlhXpTx8ZwV0Pfx693J2E15D3bcq40MSz2V5vlkUemW9RagRrTee_3d6IXLjpDZac7G9-mA/s320/jesus%2520knocking%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div>When I was a little girl, a neighbor lady often had me and my little brother over to teach us a Bible lesson. She used all sorts of interesting manipulatives to try and explain the Bible and it's teahings to us. I remember her taking two toy cars and drawing a very large road and a very small road on some paper, and driving them around. <em>All of it went right over my head</em>. I enjoyed my time there and the cookies she often shared, but I didn't understand anything she was trying to teach me. </div><div>One day she presented us with the picture of Jesus knocking at a door. <em>I was instantly taken in by its beauty and the sweet man called Jesus</em>. She told us how he was knocking at the door, but no one was opening it for him. I felt so sorry for him and a very deep deep longing stirred inside my young heart and I thought, "<em>if I were there, I would let him in.</em>" Oh how I wished I could be there with that sweet man in the picture. <em>Somehow I knew deep in the dark corners of my heart, that he would make everything alright. </em></div><br /><div>Unfortunately, at the time, I never got the message that I <em>COULD</em> let him in; that he was knocking at my heart's door. I spent too many years not knowing. But thank God, later in life, <em>someone told me the truth about Jesus</em> and how he can come to live in my heart. I opened the door one day, and my life has been so blessed ever since!!!</div><br /><div>If you have never heard how you can open your heart to Jesus, I welcome you to read more. Click on "<a href="http://churchofgodcarmichael.org/northcrest-apts-bst/northcrest-memory-verse-blog.html">Is Jesus Knocking at Your Door</a>" and begin a BEAUTIFUL, WONDERFUL, BRAND NEW life in Him!!!</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-65881690071628421762008-07-22T13:35:00.000-07:002008-12-09T00:00:25.826-08:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBxZ5AB31QljKoOm7sVBiGMXUhXMk3kwIj-19uQRR7q6vERlUOa1OVgnNVjJ0__T_7hcyonh1bRn5p2SyrsisojVMrDvG0lkWoCUJsgRC8UWf-nnolGFsdoD607LBw1-eu3Ipvmo-0bp4/s1600-h/003875%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225941639938257778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBxZ5AB31QljKoOm7sVBiGMXUhXMk3kwIj-19uQRR7q6vERlUOa1OVgnNVjJ0__T_7hcyonh1bRn5p2SyrsisojVMrDvG0lkWoCUJsgRC8UWf-nnolGFsdoD607LBw1-eu3Ipvmo-0bp4/s320/003875%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><em> </em><span style="font-size:180%;"><em>One of the greatest gift you can give your children </em></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><em>is a happy childhood!<br /></em></span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-43501814962642871432008-07-14T07:39:00.000-07:002008-12-09T00:00:26.206-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpi3-dxvtl5PD59RofvLaptnACdZ9fB1vejFstUwTG123UavhmKezLqXMdx9u8cuj_MHYL-52OmQcv1J_eQowOmS32NSsQqsc3mJ6t70PaNiNtmW_Q0k1uq-nXDk-kVvrcZUTcT1AOirA/s1600-h/under-his-wing-tn.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222880721805532770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpi3-dxvtl5PD59RofvLaptnACdZ9fB1vejFstUwTG123UavhmKezLqXMdx9u8cuj_MHYL-52OmQcv1J_eQowOmS32NSsQqsc3mJ6t70PaNiNtmW_Q0k1uq-nXDk-kVvrcZUTcT1AOirA/s400/under-his-wing-tn.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">YOUR LIFE is Jesus to someone, </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">though tattered and torn it may be. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Though often times weak and unstable, </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">you're all of God someone will see. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;">YOUR TONGUE is Jesus to someone. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">That idle, insensitive word </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">reflects to at least one searching heart </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">an idle, insensitive Lord. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;">YOUR GOALS are Jesus to someone. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">What you put first, they believe, </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">are the goals of God for the Christian. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Your life is all they receive. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;">YOUR FAITHFULNESS that's Jesus to someone. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Their judgment of how God is true, </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">rests unquestionably in the faithfulness </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">they see day by day in you. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;">YOUR LOVE is Jesus to someone -</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">that someone who is seeking to know </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">that Jesus will follow, guide and befriend </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">wherever in life they might go. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><span style="color:#6600cc;">SO BEWARE lest others blaspheme God</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">by what you say or do, </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">for the only Jesus that someone knows </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;">is the Jesus they see in you. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#6600cc;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">Author Unknown</span></em></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-4295960422838547772008-07-12T04:50:00.000-07:002008-12-09T00:00:26.328-08:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0naHSFwrJhvSspXDWrtK4oovOASRfYSy2x8XYx6pfXIDKDl7qUAki6H0qVOHNkZvKNqi8qIVIhQZILCQbzau9GSSioWBtXj-qLdkcxk9QHrDLjiDUQ8P71ll6RAWAtWKLULTjVIh2Fo/s1600-h/AB4107~Apple-of-Her-Eye-Posters%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222098820536814898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0naHSFwrJhvSspXDWrtK4oovOASRfYSy2x8XYx6pfXIDKDl7qUAki6H0qVOHNkZvKNqi8qIVIhQZILCQbzau9GSSioWBtXj-qLdkcxk9QHrDLjiDUQ8P71ll6RAWAtWKLULTjVIh2Fo/s320/AB4107~Apple-of-Her-Eye-Posters%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong> "Your children need your presence more than your presents."</strong> </div><div align="center">~Jesse Jackson~ </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-52522473550564122822008-05-29T22:51:00.000-07:002008-12-09T00:00:26.600-08:00HAPPY 17th BIRTHDAY FELECIA!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7i-aCQ_FqbQdzyHQ7NyQjx5-tqZQCTdgGI4B5mrECVS7zrMGGmDV-0jDOneQX6NZicskarKcKQYuykeBrYqrcgJQ_4BtYqbNHUGbUnTfNaUb_UBb-DEL4zfSsRMiTXw-ZQymCracnVjI/s1600-h/100_1409.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206060938933950498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7i-aCQ_FqbQdzyHQ7NyQjx5-tqZQCTdgGI4B5mrECVS7zrMGGmDV-0jDOneQX6NZicskarKcKQYuykeBrYqrcgJQ_4BtYqbNHUGbUnTfNaUb_UBb-DEL4zfSsRMiTXw-ZQymCracnVjI/s200/100_1409.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8cmKRDSyeco3Ur6VMnkXLzUxXaMugQb_sd_fyTZDYMLMijwkzRGRzj3a7nQYrShX5MKJy_b4OPlxB_hCiI1lrwU_gXfwVCzEMCCry179QdpvS3Z4xIzAfVhgnAtq5_qAlzv5TF5cwx0/s1600-h/100_1377.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206060951818852402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8cmKRDSyeco3Ur6VMnkXLzUxXaMugQb_sd_fyTZDYMLMijwkzRGRzj3a7nQYrShX5MKJy_b4OPlxB_hCiI1lrwU_gXfwVCzEMCCry179QdpvS3Z4xIzAfVhgnAtq5_qAlzv5TF5cwx0/s200/100_1377.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">At 11;57 p.m. this evening, exaclty 17 years ago, I became a mother. The most wonderful thing that God ever did for me besides saving me from sin. They laid a healthy, beautiful baby girl in my arms. She was very upset about the whole ordeal, but I would stroke her soft cheek with my forefinger and talk with her and she would stop bellowing and look up at me. I was mesmerized. A gift from heaven. There are no words to tell of the joy, the beauty, the wonder of becoming a mother. So today, 17 years later, is Felecia Genevieve's birthday. The name Felecia means happines or great joy. </span></em></div><br /><div><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">When she was about five years old, I had salmon steaks in the oven. They usually come in a U shape. She could smell something different cooking and came in and asked me what we were having for dinner. When I told her we were having Salmon steaks she peered in the oven at them and said, "ohhhh, were having fish legs for dinner." Fancy that!</span></em></div><br /><div><em><span style="color:#3333ff;"></span></em></div><br /><div><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">Another time around the same age, she was taking a bath and I went to clip her finger and toe nails. I started with her fingernails, but noticed that they were very short. "Felecia Genevieve, you need to quit biting your nails!" She listened with a slight guilty expression. "Give me your foot", I said. She lifted her foot up and triumphantly announced, "Now these I DON"T bite!" Hmmm...</span></em></div><br /><div></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>The years are running by</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>onward...out of sight;</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>My children aren't so tiny</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>as just a fore' night</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>They're thinking, planning, yearning</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>Their wings to stretch and fly;</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>It won't be long when they will take </strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>their wing and say goodbye</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>Oh Lord help me prepare them</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>that they would trust your ways;</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>And let your Holy spirit</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>guide them all their days</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>So in their flight of joy</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>mindful they would be;</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>that life is full of sorrows</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>and they have need of thee</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>And when their sun is darkend</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>and storm clouds dim their view;</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>they'll find a welcomed shelter </strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>In snuggling close to you</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>Oh Lord please over shadow </strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>and keep them in thy care;</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>That they would know you personally</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>Will always be my prayer!</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#993399;"><strong>By EVC</strong></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-40528205499394907792008-05-11T22:36:00.000-07:002008-12-09T00:00:26.711-08:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_eRBEb1Ev8NcApu08-4V_PT__U5RJI23lkNcCXxzHcoh1YeBXMfcAeOvCRI5R6LZ5zmCy97nukQX7sRrJ9IhtXB_cSQtuijl7koszXhHEUxkAcljqsEVSxwQp6jgIKo9_Pqa66myjmU/s1600-h/bbarnew%5B1%5D.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199378717563939762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_eRBEb1Ev8NcApu08-4V_PT__U5RJI23lkNcCXxzHcoh1YeBXMfcAeOvCRI5R6LZ5zmCy97nukQX7sRrJ9IhtXB_cSQtuijl7koszXhHEUxkAcljqsEVSxwQp6jgIKo9_Pqa66myjmU/s200/bbarnew%5B1%5D.gif" border="0" /></a> "Motherhood is a partnership with God"<br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><em>unknown</em></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><em><br /><br /></em></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><em></em></span><span style="color:#cc33cc;">A joyful mother of children,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">tis</span> what God has made of me</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">A beautiful quiver of little ones,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">To brighten my home with glee</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">A joy mother of children,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">tis</span> Gods <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">choosen</span> for my days</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">kiddies to cuddle, teach and train,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">To show them all of God's ways</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">A joyful mother of children,</span> <span style="font-size:0;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">tis</span> a gift from the Lord above</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">To point them the way to the Savior,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">And show them his great heart of love</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">A joyful mother of children,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">tis</span> what the Lord deemed was best</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">A treasure no words can picture,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">held close to the dear mothers breast</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">A joyful mother of children,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">tis</span> what God has made of me</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;">A mission field given from heaven,</span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">t'will</span> last through <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">eternity!</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">By, LizAnn<br /></span><br /><em>He maketh the barren woman to keep house, and to be a joyful mother of children. Praise ye the LORD.</em> (Ps. 113:9)</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-33726488650627450202008-05-01T22:37:00.000-07:002008-12-09T00:00:26.825-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidS5oNSNOtND6GHkfTUO_bhsGzqEl430EIQOKSvIz5rJCVFJaAFJ5XbVOplbVj5upcYjqvK68rCkR8entL9jiM35yXV57Xc2wK5ulrZuTFfBoI-0ac0woCVLcn3if8KGoon-rcRHGlXl8/s1600-h/ACYR4JECAVD6U6MCAC6F1Q0CAX5CUMZCAYFB1Q4CAATYYDNCA7LPXX7CAOIDTLQCA3MUCZ4CA922MMHCAR52Y7ACAKU2U68CAPL0RRTCALDHL6VCAZ1MCUFCAEKJWJCCASEYIS1CAKWYM84CAFNJBRQ.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195652706191749570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidS5oNSNOtND6GHkfTUO_bhsGzqEl430EIQOKSvIz5rJCVFJaAFJ5XbVOplbVj5upcYjqvK68rCkR8entL9jiM35yXV57Xc2wK5ulrZuTFfBoI-0ac0woCVLcn3if8KGoon-rcRHGlXl8/s200/ACYR4JECAVD6U6MCAC6F1Q0CAX5CUMZCAYFB1Q4CAATYYDNCA7LPXX7CAOIDTLQCA3MUCZ4CA922MMHCAR52Y7ACAKU2U68CAPL0RRTCALDHL6VCAZ1MCUFCAEKJWJCCASEYIS1CAKWYM84CAFNJBRQ.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://churchofgodcarmichael.org/bible/B47C009.htm"><span style="color:#330033;"><em>But this I say, He which soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly; and he which soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully. Every man according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give; not grudgingly, or of necessity: for God loveth a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work:</em> </span></a></div><div><span style="color:#330033;">(2 Corinthians 9:6-8)</span> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-14582806239142049742008-04-30T15:47:00.000-07:002008-04-30T16:01:15.045-07:00I believe in Home Schooling!The following was taken from an online reading of <a href="http://www.johntaylorgatto.com/">John Gatto's</a> book Underground <a href="http://www.johntaylorgatto.com/underground/index.htm">History of American Education</a>:
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<br /><strong><strong>He Was Square Inside And Brown</strong></strong>
<br />
<br /><span style="color:#000099;">Barbara Whiteside showed me a poem written by a high school senior in Alton, Illinois, two weeks before he committed suicide:</span>
<br /><span style="color:#000099;">
<br /></span><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">"He drew... the things inside that needed saying. </span></em>
<br /></span><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">Beautiful pictures he kept under his pillow.</span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">When he started school he brought them...To have along like a friend.</span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">It was funny about school, he sat at a square brown desk Like all the other square brown desks... and his room Was a square brown room like all the other rooms, tight And close and stiff.</span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">He hated to hold the pencil and chalk, </span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">his arms stiff His feet flat on the floor, stiff, </span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">the teacher watching And watching. </span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">She told him to wear a tie like All the other boys, he said he didn't like them.</span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">She said it didn't matter what he liked. </span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">After that the class drew. He drew all yellow. It was the way he felt about Morning. </span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">The Teacher came and smiled, "What's this? </span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">Why don't you draw something like Ken's drawing?" </span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">After that his mother bought him a tie, </span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">and he always Drew airplanes and rocketships like everyone else.</span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">He was square inside and brown and his hands were stiff. </span></em>
<br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">The things inside that needed saying didn't need it Anymore, they had stopped pushing... crushed, stiff Like everything else."
<br /></span></em>
<br /><span style="color:#333399;">After I spoke in Nashville, a mother named Debbie pressed a handwritten note on me which I read on the airplane to Binghamton, New York:</span>
<br /><span style="color:#333399;">
<br /></span><em><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#993399;">"We started to see Brandon flounder in the first grade, hives, depression, he cried every night after he asked his father, "Is tomorrow school, too?" In second grade the physical stress became apparent. The teacher pronounced his problem Attention Deficit Syndrome. My happy, bouncy child was now looked at as a medical problem, by us as well as the school.
<br />A doctor, a psychiatrist, and a school authority all determined he did have this affliction. Medication was stressed along with behavior modification. If it was suspected that Brandon had not been medicated he was sent home. My square peg needed a bit of whittling to fit their round hole, it seemed.
<br />I cried as I watched my parenting choices stripped away. My ignorance of options allowed Brandon to be medicated through second grade. The tears and hives continued another full year until I couldn’t stand it. I began to homeschool Brandon. It was his salvation. No more pills, tears, or hives. He is thriving. He never cries now and does his work eagerly."</span></em>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-86673249882181596272008-04-22T15:47:00.000-07:002008-12-09T00:00:26.996-08:00In Memory of Alesya<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFjiZhbVAIWYNR86tAv3rmc8Dk08EwdnMaChMD7bOedXrHvTeLIq_TM3fdiBLKhn_EWdazrRnscqBh5T9a36Q8gml1OwYH0Hqy7cElb8eh9mR5t-VMu1vTmK1YalvCK9_m_CDZeNH7iw/s1600-h/Copy%252Bof%252B100_3781.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192207373621211522" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFjiZhbVAIWYNR86tAv3rmc8Dk08EwdnMaChMD7bOedXrHvTeLIq_TM3fdiBLKhn_EWdazrRnscqBh5T9a36Q8gml1OwYH0Hqy7cElb8eh9mR5t-VMu1vTmK1YalvCK9_m_CDZeNH7iw/s200/Copy%252Bof%252B100_3781.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" ><em><br /></em></span><div><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" ><em>Alesya went to be with Jesus last night at 10:00 p.m. She was a straight A student and wanted to be a school teacher. She would have graduated from high school this year. I will never forget her beautiful smile, and her courageous spirit. Pray for her family!</em></span></div><br /><div></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>What Cancer Cannot Do!</strong></div><br /><div><br /><strong>It cannot cripple Love-<br /></strong><em><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? (Romans 8:35)</span><br /></em><br /><strong>It cannot shatter Hope-<br /></strong><em><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also. (John 14:3)</span><br /></em><br /><strong>It cannot corrode Faith-<br /></strong><em><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ: (1 Peter 1:7)</span><br /></em><br /><strong>It cannot destroy Peace-<br /></strong><em><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. (John 14: 27)</span></em><br /><br /><strong>It cannot kill Friendship-<br /></strong><em><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">A friend loveth at all times. (Proverbs 17:17)</span><br /></em><br /><strong>It cannot suppress Memories-</strong><br /><em><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">The memory of the just is blessed. (Proverbs 10:7)<br /></span></em><br /><strong>It cannot silence Courage-<br /></strong><em><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us?(Romans 8:3)</span><br /></em><br /><strong>It cannot invade the Soul-<br /></strong><em><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? (Romans 8:35)</span><br /></em><br /><strong>It cannot steal Eternal Life-</strong><br /><em><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">And this is the promise that he hath promised us, even eternal life. (John 2:25)</span><br /></em><br /><strong>It cannot conquer the Spirit-<br /></strong><em><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life . . . nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:37)</span></em></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6116137386905824099.post-91726923456978253812008-04-18T21:11:00.000-07:002008-12-09T00:00:27.142-08:00A Story of Faith in God and How God Answers Prayer<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVIonJHg7ssa0xRMnGZCxyM06_o743Lc3WHCVUDcm4p9DDlzQKFL9aHHEocKDKHdY-5T_Q8jFMu6mm2v9UCrYnZEyu2P8wHnIcQmYJMpKjKUrplHjIpkTDuEGU0-TBjMu3zcORVTHgEw/s1600-h/A9ROJ8UCA1V6OAOCAOJGWP1CADN4G0MCAMXWGKGCAQQ9N1UCAUF7RA2CAHW3P2ICAJ72P9ECARJIOH4CAW4WVK8CAX194NCCAEMATB0CAY4A7QPCA7MTN1OCAVRL06FCAWUC5AECA0BM3JDCAS5M4SB.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190808456998603170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVIonJHg7ssa0xRMnGZCxyM06_o743Lc3WHCVUDcm4p9DDlzQKFL9aHHEocKDKHdY-5T_Q8jFMu6mm2v9UCrYnZEyu2P8wHnIcQmYJMpKjKUrplHjIpkTDuEGU0-TBjMu3zcORVTHgEw/s200/A9ROJ8UCA1V6OAOCAOJGWP1CADN4G0MCAMXWGKGCAQQ9N1UCAUF7RA2CAHW3P2ICAJ72P9ECARJIOH4CAW4WVK8CAX194NCCAEMATB0CAY4A7QPCA7MTN1OCAVRL06FCAWUC5AECA0BM3JDCAS5M4SB.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><span style="color:#330099;">Using a black permanent marker, Shane marked five eggs with a small ‘x’ and then carefully placed them under a broody, mother hen. On the calendar he counted out 21 days for the incubations period and wrote down the due date for the chicks to hatch on Sunday, March 10. Everyday he went out to the hen house, collected all the unmarked eggs and checked on mama hen where she faithfully sat warming her little treasures. Meanwhile, Dad cleaned up an unused rabbit hutch where he could move the mother hen away from the other chickens so they would not harm the baby chicks after they hatched. At the age of nine, Shane’s fascination with raising and hatching chickens were at its peak and he eagerly awaited and carefully watched over the precious nestlings. </span></div><span style="color:#330099;"><div><br />The morning they were due to hatch, Shane, along with his two sisters, restlessly checked on them every opportunity they got, hoping that at least a couple of them would hatch. They fretted and worried about getting the chicks moved to safety from the other chickens as soon as they were hatched; so they kept a close eye on those eggs. But by Sunday evening nothing had yet happened. “Well, sometimes they are a little late hatching,” reasoned Shane. </div><div><br />Monday morning, the kids rose up early, while I was still sleeping, and ran out to check on the eggs. There was still no sign of them hatching. A little concerned, they decided to go ahead and move mamma hen and her eggs into the rabbit hutch. They carefully lifted her from the nesting box and carried the precious eggs to their new home. But an unexpected problem arose. Mamma hen would not sit back on the eggs. The children tried coaxing her in every way they could think of, but she just paced back and forth inside the hutch looking for a way out. It was a very chilly morning and those eggs needed to be kept warm or the babies would die. Our next door neighbor, Mrs. Busby, saw the distress of situation and advised the children to leave mama hen alone and then she would calm down and go sit on the eggs again. Reluctantly, we all went into the house, anxious yet hopeful. A couple hours later, we went out to see if she was sitting on them and found her still pacing and the eggs ice cold. By now we were all distraught over the unborn baby chicks. I told the kids to put mama hen and her eggs back into the nesting box, but Mrs. Busby, upon feeling how cold the eggs were, said they were probably no good. We were so disheartened and the kids felt so bad about it all. I decided to take them into the house and try to warm them. Mrs. Busby said I could try but that she thought they were way too cold. I brought them in the house and placed them between two towels on a plate and put them in the oven on warm. It looked doubtful . . . but we could pray! </div><div><br />I got out a story I had read to the kids many times. It was a true story about some children that had rabbits. One night, during a freeze, they forgot to lock the rabbit cage and all the rabbits got out of the cage. The next morning the children found them all lying around the yard frozen stiff. The children gathered up the rabbits and brought them into the house whereupon the mother and children prayed that God would revive them, and sure enough, God honored their faith and raised them back to life. I read the familiar story once again to my children and then told them that God is able to save these little chicks. We all knelt down to pray, Felecia, my 10 year old daughter, leading out. </div><div><br />It took awhile for the eggs to get warm enough to take back out to the mama hen. Moisture condensed on the outside of the shells. It didn’t look good. But we knew in our hearts that God was able to save the chicks, if it was his will. We tenderly placed the eggs back into the nesting box and the mama chicken went and sat on them. All Monday the children anxiously waited to see what would happen. By evening, there were no signs of life, and knowing they were already overdue, we thought that it was probably too late. </div><div><br />Tuesday morning Shane got up bright and early and went out to check on them. A few minutes later he came flying through the door, eyes as wide open as ever, “MOM! MOM! I HEARD PEEPING!” “Are you sure?” I asked, as we all scrambled into our rain boots and dashed out to see. We gathered in the hen house and quietly listened. Ever so faintly we could hear the peeping. Shane lifted up the mother hen and one of the eggs was just beginning to hatch. Later that afternoon, two little chicks had hatched and another egg was cracking. Dad carefully nailed some screening around the box so that they wouldn’t fall out. </div><div><br />Wednesday morning we had three chickens in all and there was a hole in another egg. We wondered if it was still good so we took it out and upon examination could see a little life moving around. We hoped it was strong enough to hatch completely out and placed it back under mama. Thursday morning we went out joyfully to move our new little flock into the rabbit hutch. Shane checked on that other egg and, sure enough, there was a new little chick. </div><div><br />“Four out of five eggs!” I exclaimed, “God really blessed.” We put the four little chickadees into the basket and I headed over to their new home while Shane picked up mama hen. Suddenly he came running towards me just as excited as he had been the morning when he first heard the peeping. “MOM! MOM! There’s another chick in there!” “Are you sure?” I asked in amazement. “Yeah, I picked up mama hen and there it was underneath her!”<br />ALL FIVE OF THOSE EGGS HATCHED! PRAISE GOD! </div><div></div><div>“With God, all things are possible”! (Matt 19:26)</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1