tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91991325575318108462024-02-07T00:30:58.994-06:00Life's a Journeyaliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.comBlogger239125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-46083790610561614072015-01-18T13:41:00.002-06:002015-01-18T13:41:28.423-06:00Painful Grace<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> This morning as I sat in church listening to the pastor speak about Abraham and Isaac and Abraham's trusting submission, I was struck with a very distinct memory of a very old post. I had to revisit it. And update it. When I wrote it in June of 2011, I could never have imagined where God would bring us. Here is the original: </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.jumpingtandem.com/2011/05/is-god-crazy-or-what.html" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px; text-decoration: none;">This post</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;"> has stuck with me since reading it. Nagging me. So I read and re-read in many different translations the story of Abraham and Isaac. I have been bothered and not wanting to talk about it because I know what God is telling me. We have to lay our "Isaac" down. we need to bring this son whom we love and present him before God, and God alone. We are being called to act out our faith, no matter how painful and bring Charlie Brown before God and trust that the Lord will provide. </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">This has been killing me for weeks. To think of giving him back to a shaky situation at best has my stomach in knots. I haven't wanted to talk about it, because saying it out loud makes it too real. And there is always the hope that I am wrong, oh what a blessing it is to be wrong sometimes! </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">After struggling with this inner turmoil for so long, last night I finally found my peace. </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">Re-reading this passage again, I know what God is calling me to do. </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">TRUST. </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">Not in the "okay Lord I trust you so lets go ahead and do this my way now" kind of trust that I seem to fall into so very easily. But that un-denying "God this is your child, he is yours, I give him to you fully without any conditions because I know that you love him and</span><em style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;"> I will still praise you"</em><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;"> trust. </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">The Lord will provide. He will provide a safe home for this sweet baby. My prayer is still that that will be our home, but without knowing even that, I need to say "Here he is Lord, this son whom I love. I give him fully to you." </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">And, because the lack of details in Abrahams story are so frustrating to me, I will share with you this. It is with deep anguish and despair. Gut wrenching sick feelings. The tears flow and I try to cling. I move in slow motion as to not rush to the day when we are called up. I pray for this son. I pray that he is not hurt and can have his life without unnecessary pain. I yearn for it to be different, but cannot deny what my God has asked. And I know that He will provide.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;" /><em style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">I now have to mention that I wrote this over a week ago and was unable to publish it at that time. I knew I wasn't ready. This past week we have learned that these feelings were right. As sad as this makes us, we have peace that can only come from above. I know that when the day actually comes- 6 weeks or so, we will mourn, but today, we enjoy our little man and praise God for the gift of his light in our life these past 6 months.</em></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">Coming back to today. January 18, 2015. Four years and 11 days since this baby shook up our world. Four years since this precious baby clung to me as I mourned the loss of my dear grandma. Three years, 5 months, and 7 days since we obeyed God's painful call. God calling us to give our sweet baby back to an unstable situation made no sense to us. Yet we were granted peace. We were terrified. Yet we had peace. It hurt, we loved him. But God loved him more. God also loved this baby's mom. And without her son to love and fight for, she may have given up. Today, we are friends. Today, we call and text and share pictures. Charlie Brown visits us and stays with us. He knows I am also his mother, he even says foster mom without knowing what that means. He calls Jackson his brother and Maicy is his, don't argue with him. We have JOY. His mom has joy, knowing that she is in a good place and providing for her son and giving him the best of both worlds. He has 2 families who love him more than life. Only God could do that. If we had kept him for ourselves, we would have denied God the chance to bless all of our lives.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">When we get out of God's way, and don't try to fix it, He does do amazing things. </span></span><br />
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aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-21315563917322657402012-11-07T08:45:00.001-06:002012-11-07T08:45:30.438-06:00Because He Lives... For the past 2 years the Coffee Break group I was a part of plodded our way through the Old Testament. I would say excitedly, but really, who gets excited to read about the warfare and the rises and falls and the gory mess that was Israel? It isn't full of good news of peace and great tidings of joy like the gospels. It isn't the Good News we are all eager to hear and share. It's ugly there. And while it can get draining to read Judges, I also found hope there.<br />
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Hope that even though Israel, God's CHOSEN people, turned on Him and said His leaders weren't good enough, God delivered them. He gave His people what they wanted, even knowing how much it would hurt them. And it hurt Him. The hope lies in that God never left His people. They left Him. And it wasn't they'd find themselves broken and defeated by the armies of their enemies, poor and weak, that they would turn back to God. And that is where they found peace.<br />
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In this election season I have sat back and listened to a lot of ranting and some calm explaining. I don't get very involved. We didn't listen to the ads, rather read the candidate's plans and made our decisions from there. And on this morning post- election Twitter and Facebook are still smoking from the heated arguments and bashing of people we are called to respect and pray for. My group of friends isn't huge and yes, they are all pretty like-minded in politics. But what is most troublesome to me is the amount of worry and lack of hope that I have seen.<br />
I am not here to say that the future doesn't worry me. I would be lying if there weren't moments of feeling sick. But then I was reminded that even IF the other guy won... it would be wrong of me to celebrate and put my hope in him and say "now it's all going to work out." There is a danger at this time of year in putting our faith in one candidate over another.<br />
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The danger is in putting our faith in ANY man.<br />
The danger is in resting in one man's promises over another.<br />
The danger is in letting one man determine whether or not my life on this earth is going to be okay.<br />
The danger is in finding peace in an economy.<br />
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God's promises are the only ones we can cling to.<br />
God's love for us- He is after all the ONLY one who cares what happens to us.<br />
God's love will get us through anything. If He needs to strip this great America that thinks we are indestructible in order to get us on our knees, then God, whatever it takes.<br /><br />God is still God. Today and tomorrow and this earth is just a wisp.<br />
So can we put away the negative comments, the bashing of one man or one group? Can we simply pray for all of our leaders? Can we show the people that Christians are here to love, not to tear down. Can we put our faith in Him in action?<br />
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<i><b><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;">1 Samuel 2:2</span></b></i></div>
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<i><b><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;">There is no one holy like the Lord; there is no one besides you; there is no Rock like our God. </span></b></i></div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background-color: transparent; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border: 0px !important;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-73497010068200944572012-10-30T09:56:00.001-05:002012-10-30T09:56:54.534-05:00More Than a Game<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
One of the things from a long list of worries when you move is teams. </div>
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What kind of coaches will my kid have?</div>
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What kind of teammates will my kid be stuck with?</div>
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How good is this program and what are it's real goals, not just the "written goals". </div>
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Ultimately, will my child and I be able to enjoy the new sports season in this new town?</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLPKWei8teHyPUJRQ3tSKq6O_wfmz5cXBdbDNKupfZ4rAmA6odo-yWJ11DGHyjK1LqviI5y3uLRIJyd24FTgkljLcpZmeD7yYAeak0UX4iJPnbgitFR5z_KrHzzGh-evUtf5CZ8InwCo/s1600/DSC_0215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLPKWei8teHyPUJRQ3tSKq6O_wfmz5cXBdbDNKupfZ4rAmA6odo-yWJ11DGHyjK1LqviI5y3uLRIJyd24FTgkljLcpZmeD7yYAeak0UX4iJPnbgitFR5z_KrHzzGh-evUtf5CZ8InwCo/s400/DSC_0215.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">#53 would be mine :)</td></tr>
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The nerves I experienced as he started were unnecessary.</div>
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His teammates were stellar. Coming together as a team. No room for a one man show here.</div>
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Encouraging each other. </div>
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Defending each other. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju2vJFMHaoOW-ceeFxhcpnIcDw5CC57DzDSyZiCUrQujobmV3IhJE_V9nT5RIg06BiUSV-VRjkUQvbf_Q38Wo0vbgvLoBrE2w2MzZLuO9HwWfo1KRL8rqtQYpFkhaOLTyc2tNZ8CmWG24/s1600/DSC_0218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju2vJFMHaoOW-ceeFxhcpnIcDw5CC57DzDSyZiCUrQujobmV3IhJE_V9nT5RIg06BiUSV-VRjkUQvbf_Q38Wo0vbgvLoBrE2w2MzZLuO9HwWfo1KRL8rqtQYpFkhaOLTyc2tNZ8CmWG24/s400/DSC_0218.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The coaches... well we couldn't have asked for better men to lead our boys. They were firm in practice. Keeping them in line. Making them be as good as they could be. </div>
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Yet when it was the Championship game and we fell...</div>
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they didn't yell. They didn't scream or throw their hats.</div>
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They said good game. Great season. Be proud. You. Are. Champions. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXq7DBe8apG5qeCdJE7GnWCMKdaoE_PL-xGzLCLxbOd9g95wDB-069fPMNAbq3bZ1xBlilS1qPfFFZtzaISAtDwGbEy_RtAcAb2YXlbqBe_mE68Gdan1TImfWloCx1N0tF_8hx0AWn9Q/s1600/DSC_0333.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXq7DBe8apG5qeCdJE7GnWCMKdaoE_PL-xGzLCLxbOd9g95wDB-069fPMNAbq3bZ1xBlilS1qPfFFZtzaISAtDwGbEy_RtAcAb2YXlbqBe_mE68Gdan1TImfWloCx1N0tF_8hx0AWn9Q/s400/DSC_0333.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Final huddle of the season- great work TEAM! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnTPWPSNSd4Ri7zvmTllKe-MWgtU0Ppbq38yiIDnAV87xXxn7NWCyelMNMEJYHZHNZRspRhZEbiEXY3GWUQwTtCCOBzgAAqgzaxwiPcY6M_3MLYxlqtW7wh1xHs6iNEo-GIAUTQFckOAE/s1600/jackson1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnTPWPSNSd4Ri7zvmTllKe-MWgtU0Ppbq38yiIDnAV87xXxn7NWCyelMNMEJYHZHNZRspRhZEbiEXY3GWUQwTtCCOBzgAAqgzaxwiPcY6M_3MLYxlqtW7wh1xHs6iNEo-GIAUTQFckOAE/s320/jackson1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can throw in one of my boy right?! :) </td></tr>
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To this team I say thank you. Thank you for being a great example. Thank you for playing clean. Thank you for playing strong. Thank you for being shining examples of what sporstmanship looks like. Thank you for being a team to be proud of. One that gets noticed. Not for it's wins, but for playing fair. Thank you to the parents for teaching your boys what it means to be a part of a team. And thank you coaches. For being great examples. For being what these young men needed. For teaching them to what happens on the field, stays on the field. For teaching them that integrity is more than the win. We will always hold you in our hearts.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgARfGuXQdv_4VNRNUoxfgxKJF4LhECQjgCnW1N5LDzkx2W9pqCdZHb20JzVjvGclygGNDPxyU-q19xWw7HV2p1Nq5b_TLzyCalj8v99XLlzVw8_XKmGOXdKsFZqG-sRDz97e7bqKQyLac/s1600/teamblack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgARfGuXQdv_4VNRNUoxfgxKJF4LhECQjgCnW1N5LDzkx2W9pqCdZHb20JzVjvGclygGNDPxyU-q19xWw7HV2p1Nq5b_TLzyCalj8v99XLlzVw8_XKmGOXdKsFZqG-sRDz97e7bqKQyLac/s640/teamblack.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DAY BY DAY!!... GET BETTER AND BETTER!!...WORK HARD TO WIN!!...WORK HARD TOGETHER!!!</td></tr>
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I am sad to see this season end as it was such a great way for us to make new friends in this new place. But I know that we will always have a strong tie, because of this team.<br />
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<i>(please ignore the first part of the video, if I knew how to edit that, I would, but seriously, I finally learned how to get the video to my computer- let's not get too picky!) </i><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzvd9wEW_820yTYqNeuRy0jGzs6vGhzAjcWnqQQZBxj77dBAu3sOEEIAXHozEtIEVtrjhA4IFK7vKaRiRMDOw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-82412630574428384852012-10-19T09:48:00.000-05:002012-10-19T09:48:09.595-05:00I Surrender All<i><span style="color: #134f5c;">I realize I have taken a longer than planned hiatus from this space. I would gladly say that I am returning for good, but that's hard to do when I don't even know why I've left in the first place. So, I am here now. For now I have words churning inside me trying to find their escape. It is a frightening thing to ask the Holy Spirit in, because He really does get in there.</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We stood singing in our new church home Sunday morning. Kids in Sunday School, lights dimmed as usual, graphics all around us. There was no band this morning. Only one man with a piano and one simple drum. Still we sang the songs associated with our Sunday morning worship time- contempory praise- 10,000 Reasons by Matt Redman and others. And then. Then he threw an old hymn in there. The meat and potatoes of worship he called it. I surrender all.</span><br />
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<i><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All to Jesus I surrender;</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All to Him I freely give;</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I will ever love and trust Him,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In His presence daily live. </span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I love this song I thought... I miss it. I surrender it all to you, Lord.</i></span><br />
<ol style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
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<li class="refrain" style="list-style-type: none; margin-left: 20px; margin-top: 1em;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I surrender all,<br />I surrender all;<br />All to Thee, my blessed Savior,<br />I surrender all.</span></i></li>
<li class="refrain" style="list-style-type: none; margin-left: 20px; margin-top: 1em;"><i><span style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All? Do you surrender all? He asks</span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">.</span></i></li>
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</li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All to Jesus I surrender;<br />Humbly at His feet I bow,<br />Worldly pleasures all forsaken;<br />Take me, Jesus, take me now.</span></i></li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Well yeah. All. Sure. I think...</span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></i></li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All to Jesus I surrender;<br />Make me, Savior, wholly Thine;<br />Let me feel the Holy Spirit,<br />Truly know that Thou art mine.</span></i></li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><i>Wait... I'm waiting for test results on my daughter. All? Even that? </i></li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><i><b><span style="color: purple;">You said "all"</span></b></i></li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All to Jesus I surrender;<br />Lord, I give myself to Thee;<br />Fill me with Thy love and power;<br />Let Thy blessing fall on me.</span></i></li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yes, Lord. ALL.</span></i></li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All to Jesus I surrender;<br />Now I feel the sacred flame.<br />Oh, the joy of full salvation!<br />Glory, glory, to His Name!</span></i></li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It hurts and it's scary. But yes, ALL.</span></li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sometimes I sing the words, I say the words and I think I've done enough. I don't expect to be called on it. Lord, I love you, I will take up my mat and follow you....just don't test me on that, m'kay?</span></li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I gave it all and the peace came. I no longer fretted. The tests came back fine. But I know that even if it hadn't, His peace would have surrounded me. All I need to do is surrender. Sounds so simple. Yet I know I will struggle with it again and again. I need to give it up each and every day. </span></li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Where are you on this? Do you cling on to control and worry? Are you able to surrender all, even when it terrifies you? </i></span></li>
<li style="list-style-type: none; margin-top: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></li>
</ol>
aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-23822672137003260272012-05-07T23:20:00.000-05:002012-05-07T23:30:41.936-05:00A New HOPE<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/AVvXsEiNFlmoxjApOfQTRi6rucPNR47bVneNNPlBoQszp-OWUyTMxLzbsCz71QPgMlPTXkULPvqpG72I8RlmwwnLDHzmhZNOSkGWJ3QvjGSr4MCBfp0dJ4_5VQ0KWpOhGrJ0lu8cRQXIL0KYpW4/s1600/anchor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNFlmoxjApOfQTRi6rucPNR47bVneNNPlBoQszp-OWUyTMxLzbsCz71QPgMlPTXkULPvqpG72I8RlmwwnLDHzmhZNOSkGWJ3QvjGSr4MCBfp0dJ4_5VQ0KWpOhGrJ0lu8cRQXIL0KYpW4/s640/anchor.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise over Maui</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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As the month of May rushes past us, even though its only just begun, I feel the tug of two directions.<br />
YAY! The school year is almost over! No more running around and crazy schedules and fighting over math papers and rushing to lessons and practices and.... phew.<br />
BUT, as this year rushes to an end, the kids and I are beginning our goodbyes. I want to pull on the ropes and draw everything to a halt so I can have more time. I'm not ready! I can't have all of these "lasts" piled on top of each other so fast. I can't plan all the good-byes I wanted to at this speed of light pace. I want to drop an anchor and just be. still.<br />
<br />
It's safe here. I know what's around the corner. I know who I will see at the grocery store and know the checkers by name... and they know mine. I know who's working at my favorite restaurants and what to order. I know when I will see my friends in school pick up lines and where to sit in church. I know where my kids will be riding bike and who they are with. I know their friends' families- I grew up with most of those parents. I feel secure.<br />
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My anchor is in the water. My hope is in Christ. No matter which direction I feel pulled in, the anchor holds firm. He promises to not let me fall overboard.<br />
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I realized this as I had my first "goodbye" this month. My HOPE ladies. Fitting, no? A group of moms who walked, dove, ran, and yes, were dragged, into the life of foster/adoptive parents. These ladies have acted as support and anchors for me as I trudged through last year. As the winds howled and tornadoes popped up, we embraced new hellos and attempted goodbyes. We laughed as we said this wouldn't be goodbye- the Lord would take us then and we will have all of eternity to laugh until we cry and cry until we laugh. To hold each other up in prayer and love and grace. Because we are all anchored together in the love of Christ.<br />
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<i><b><span style="color: #134f5c;">We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. Hebrews 6:19a</span></b></i><br />
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Linking up with <a href="http://www.findingheaventoday.com/2012/05/when-you-have-to-try-again-and-soli-deo.html" target="_blank">Jen, and the Soli Sisters</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial !important; border-image: initial !important; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial !important; border-top-width: 0px !important;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-42698131750801436012012-05-04T09:16:00.000-05:002012-05-04T09:16:34.142-05:00Travelogue<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Where have you been?!" seems to be a question I get a lot lately. Especially in regards to my li'l ol' blog over her. Seems some people just need their dose of wry humor in the form of poorly formed sentences with the occasional tear jerker and not to mention miserably flopped recipe. And because I am a people pleaser, I am here to offer just that. Hold your applause until the end. </div>
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So, where have I been? Travel along with me over the last 6 months, will you? It's been quite the journey. Keep your seat belts fastened at all times and the flight attendant will be around soon with your snacks. Or not. </div>
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First we travel to the sandy beaches of Maui. We know you may all be a little puffy from that water retention of a 10 hour flight, but lets go snorkeling anyways. </div>
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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/AVvXsEjFU_NLf-dGUXm-_LsKIUjxJOhJ6rDwjLy0XWZ3xIJQbMrJY8X5oAWiblfgNljkkFv0Nv56ydoFH8ICF1lJKv2PCPIpxqp6kHl5xPZrUA_YdIKGNxb_YWStE2CPDc3zMuM3ZwcCYHaRmQU/s1600/073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFU_NLf-dGUXm-_LsKIUjxJOhJ6rDwjLy0XWZ3xIJQbMrJY8X5oAWiblfgNljkkFv0Nv56ydoFH8ICF1lJKv2PCPIpxqp6kHl5xPZrUA_YdIKGNxb_YWStE2CPDc3zMuM3ZwcCYHaRmQU/s400/073.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the local exotic beauties of the Islands... </td></tr>
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On this tropical tour we will spend 8 hours- count them EIGHT hours- in a slowly rocking boat not catching one single fish. Contrary to the claim, it was NOT his Lucky Fishing shirt. Unless it's lucky I didn't fall in while hanging over the side. Then yes, I was very lucky. Although by hour 4, the thought did occur to just fall overboard so they would end the tour early.<br />
<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/AVvXsEjNh3jrMky8YjHliqFZLOxeJGZXveglpnCUu6AR2CD-I0E3ShKQzTpeVZFblhSsoJxRmGMUi8Y3eNAx-Ugdq4az2yDxSiayKCCer_0_p0QOLvgCMX0aRO8cxI4Eqqm0c8gmbCaYXlZM8Kg/s1600/130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNh3jrMky8YjHliqFZLOxeJGZXveglpnCUu6AR2CD-I0E3ShKQzTpeVZFblhSsoJxRmGMUi8Y3eNAx-Ugdq4az2yDxSiayKCCer_0_p0QOLvgCMX0aRO8cxI4Eqqm0c8gmbCaYXlZM8Kg/s400/130.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some may wonder how one can look so crabby and one so pale while in Hawaii...<br />But he's holding me up, as is that pole, and I am trying to not hang over the side for the last 20 minutes </td></tr>
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After a week of water, we decided it was time to go to a less wet and wavy climate. So, off to Egypt where we took in the magnificent pyramids and of course, the local beauties. And they are beauties. But that's just my opinion.<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/AVvXsEjcgeGmQeWCZAMC04uY38pxC_m59Fk5DmAmiwgsfJsi7yHVohDRclQO_U7rCw9JOiZMgxtj1-7S1cEC6FRCEcRyo2hdGFep9I9zJfekfNMUpagZhXkEDUK4J9UwwF3I52EA_k2JTD27apI/s1600/DSC_0925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcgeGmQeWCZAMC04uY38pxC_m59Fk5DmAmiwgsfJsi7yHVohDRclQO_U7rCw9JOiZMgxtj1-7S1cEC6FRCEcRyo2hdGFep9I9zJfekfNMUpagZhXkEDUK4J9UwwF3I52EA_k2JTD27apI/s400/DSC_0925.JPG" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, I always though the pyramids would be larger in real life as well. </td></tr>
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In need of some good old USA again we decided to visit some Presidents. Here is a snapshot of our visit with Ulysses S. Grant. He's shorter than I imagined, but quite a jolly fellow. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl6tkCa8Fb1YTRp0spDP5j837LI1gzFu5X9hHkZAzIyzUTdPt85AxHZU7Aex4wd-6sgUMIT6v-7fsI4OJyumUnLyry4uXcp_up268MFwKDC-b7Abfjsd6-BCmPVJHyuJX1jcpA2CUvTxk/s1600/DSC_1123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl6tkCa8Fb1YTRp0spDP5j837LI1gzFu5X9hHkZAzIyzUTdPt85AxHZU7Aex4wd-6sgUMIT6v-7fsI4OJyumUnLyry4uXcp_up268MFwKDC-b7Abfjsd6-BCmPVJHyuJX1jcpA2CUvTxk/s400/DSC_1123.JPG" width="267" /></a></div>
And then it was time to travel again! Ready? Fasten those seatbelts tight, we are heading to Mars!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyM3DZ0PJGT7zvgg3OifG7mek9rgrfUtFMBTqFTMd_Fsyxb1d8e44Jum7E26HBn13lqCETtDRLf5dnDcPrSFZyX9rjC7c9g7S6A0LwokOCvxHtj1SBiSAOos_zf-EvFST7WfY4h0gkWp4/s1600/DSC_0989.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyM3DZ0PJGT7zvgg3OifG7mek9rgrfUtFMBTqFTMd_Fsyxb1d8e44Jum7E26HBn13lqCETtDRLf5dnDcPrSFZyX9rjC7c9g7S6A0LwokOCvxHtj1SBiSAOos_zf-EvFST7WfY4h0gkWp4/s400/DSC_0989.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Please, do not speak or come to close to the locals... they bite. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QXT70aMvu_vnoKeEbeXDen9JAKlBC71lRRwinRGJ-BHVGAA5J918rD0Y7TGPVP3FZgCqgNorLvmKs8xVv7FeLlS4ywXxfwwWj7gNENPCJ_cVvoKJ7YhzHRUgUyXEYPm7ndv5P_YpF5U/s1600/DSC_1008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QXT70aMvu_vnoKeEbeXDen9JAKlBC71lRRwinRGJ-BHVGAA5J918rD0Y7TGPVP3FZgCqgNorLvmKs8xVv7FeLlS4ywXxfwwWj7gNENPCJ_cVvoKJ7YhzHRUgUyXEYPm7ndv5P_YpF5U/s400/DSC_1008.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Somewhere between Mars and Iowa, we land in WhoVille! Oh Thing 1 and Thing 2, what did you do? What did you do?!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTI0wGIygXcKzXAI3U7QZ_-Ur8R2VHFcLKXI2-mGwxbHPkP5rdLU_wmEZc5o2vYk5avAlQj3C9XtkPWiHP5Ssz11kw_rAQWNgbTzZsaxfCEfvPbQcaS8D_490cOL_EOBFlXoLhrvcFcV0/s1600/2012-01-27+12.53.30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTI0wGIygXcKzXAI3U7QZ_-Ur8R2VHFcLKXI2-mGwxbHPkP5rdLU_wmEZc5o2vYk5avAlQj3C9XtkPWiHP5Ssz11kw_rAQWNgbTzZsaxfCEfvPbQcaS8D_490cOL_EOBFlXoLhrvcFcV0/s400/2012-01-27+12.53.30.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Here you will also find the LORAX. Yes, you may think you saw that back at home, but this is the REAL filming of the real deal!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQOMJ81bCzkNX0YoFCY4miVFOldZul59qJ5z3DQDcuk8rCHobiemg-VqcnvSKutyroBcG7inunDO7G3Ose-CO7etAmIkWmsI2TlYCt2GKWb5-dnvHeR3WjQh5qSQ7tOqh-0hW0LE1uPw/s1600/2012-01-27+12.58.52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQOMJ81bCzkNX0YoFCY4miVFOldZul59qJ5z3DQDcuk8rCHobiemg-VqcnvSKutyroBcG7inunDO7G3Ose-CO7etAmIkWmsI2TlYCt2GKWb5-dnvHeR3WjQh5qSQ7tOqh-0hW0LE1uPw/s400/2012-01-27+12.58.52.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
And then we land. Safely back at home. But wait. It's not mine anymore. So, we say good-bye.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTpLkL5Nq1rcH73_ElQJZ3v5v8axG4yiP6ncuBO5heK2VQIASNV5qr6H-IxznKREwkRKhhvszW49YgZgWW2j2KQy079ODhynngElXYKjoWNw-MTyM0D_IYSqJ6OQSzGtXZa6dzfB3_gPc/s1600/2012-01-31+09.03.56.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTpLkL5Nq1rcH73_ElQJZ3v5v8axG4yiP6ncuBO5heK2VQIASNV5qr6H-IxznKREwkRKhhvszW49YgZgWW2j2KQy079ODhynngElXYKjoWNw-MTyM0D_IYSqJ6OQSzGtXZa6dzfB3_gPc/s400/2012-01-31+09.03.56.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Probably the toughest journey I have had, and am still about to take, is saying goodbye to my home. The home we designed and built ourselves. The home that my kids spent most of their years in. The home that hosted Christmases and Thanksgivings and Easters and birthday parties galore. The home where I dropped to my knees and cried out to my God that I needed Him and Him alone as there was just too much that I couldn't take on my own. The place where tears were shed and laughter was heard often.<br />
We sold it in December. Moved to a rental- aka the Waiting Room- in January. In June, we move across the river to Nebraska. It's been 6 months of good byes. Be sure to follow me as we move on to the Hello's.<br />
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So it's been a journey as you can see! It's been scary and fun and it's only just the beginning!<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial !important; border-image: initial !important; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial !important; border-top-width: 0px !important;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-9969426933649654222012-03-28T13:18:00.000-05:002012-03-28T13:18:50.527-05:00My Friend<em>I know, I know. I have been a wee bit absent around here lately. I could come up with many excuses for you, none of which are good. So, lets just pretend I didn't take an extended sabitical for the last few months and accept that I am here today. Thank goodness for grace.</em><br />
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So, I have an unlikely friend. No body really understands the hows and whys- on both ends. In her world foster parents are the enemy. In her reality, we are support. In my world bio moms are the enemy. In my reality, she is my lifeline. <br />
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If you had asked me a year ago if I would ever be friends with her, I probably would have laughed. Synically.<br />
My life was good.<br />
I was happy.<br />
My kids were happy.<br />
Then we were all broken.<br />
<br />
I blamed her.<br />
Why would I want to be her friend?<br />
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Little by little, my anger subsided.<br />
My heart healed.<br />
My family healed.<br />
We were going to be okay.<br />
<br />
Charlie Brown was okay too.<br />
He is happy.<br />
She is happy.<br />
We talk on the phone. We text. We laugh.<br />
I help her when she needs it. Offering a listening ear, parenting advice. Just being there. Being an "auntie" to the little man who ran away with our hearts.<br />
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She helps me. She shares him with me. I know that's not easy to do. But she does it. She lets me love on him. She calls me and asks for help when she needs it. Instead of shutting me out.<br />
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We help each other. Why? Because we both love that bald little wild man and we both want him to have the best life possible. <br />
Why are we friends? Because we are both undeserving of Grace, and yet we have both been given it. <br />
Did I plan this? No. But God has shown me what I need to do and given me the grace and peace to follow Him. And I am grateful that He sees things we don't. <br />
For now I have a good friend. One who I trust and love and who I want to see succeed. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="color: #073763; font-size: large;"><em> "A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps"</em></span></strong></div><div style="text-align: center;"><strong><em><span style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">Proverbs 16:9</span></em></strong><br />
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<strong><em><span style="color: #073763; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Linking up with Michelle and Jen.... head over there for more great reads...</span> </span></em></strong></div><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-46719762881240199702012-01-25T10:59:00.000-06:002012-01-25T10:59:19.282-06:00Birthday Boy... er young man.Today is a special day. <br />
It's my baby's birthday.<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Okay, he isn't my baby. He is my firstborn. My preemie. My fighter. My stubborn one. My sensitive boy. My giver. My funny one. (okay, they're both hilarious). My sarcastic child- I wonder where he gets it? </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">He spent the first 2 months of his life in a plexi-glass box. Helping to grow those tiny lungs. He's always been a bit impatient- felt the need to come into this world 11 weeks early. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Now. He is ELEVEN. How did that happen? </div><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/AVvXsEiygSKdW4t5eHQ3mNrViRwSf98ticRKWKXF9Sv5vMqzyBeS1Kpmum2vP53yrCmaSvXuiy4n_jv8z8Daq1ZmbuUbquHTW8wvb1KFCGHHhymGMG3Mh4G6JmHDngsGn9HM4qiTJ_JbgAoB2FI/s1600/jackson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="452px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiygSKdW4t5eHQ3mNrViRwSf98ticRKWKXF9Sv5vMqzyBeS1Kpmum2vP53yrCmaSvXuiy4n_jv8z8Daq1ZmbuUbquHTW8wvb1KFCGHHhymGMG3Mh4G6JmHDngsGn9HM4qiTJ_JbgAoB2FI/s640/jackson.jpg" width="640px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First time holding.. I would find a picture of the isolette, but we have just moved and I can't find my shoes, much less a picture. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">He still spends his days confined to a plexi-glass box. In an ice arena. We wouldn't have it any other way.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3bkLR_7sj16ue1e6s41jTtFGrRfxfScJun9pgrH7VKgVLWHgrfLVGDzhFwfLCMKLUZyCLGcajJb3gzaMXGMHI8aSt_cTs3LbFq5PyMQQQga8flD-n8AsV1H412V5JJ_0kux03_tAB18/s1600/DSC_0729.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="267px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3bkLR_7sj16ue1e6s41jTtFGrRfxfScJun9pgrH7VKgVLWHgrfLVGDzhFwfLCMKLUZyCLGcajJb3gzaMXGMHI8aSt_cTs3LbFq5PyMQQQga8flD-n8AsV1H412V5JJ_0kux03_tAB18/s400/DSC_0729.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div> No one could have told me when I had that tiny 3pounder in my arms that some day I would be watching him skate on the ice week after week after week taking down big kids and little kids in his way. I am not sure I would have dared dream it possible. I was told by some "caring stranger" shortly after we were home from the hospital that he would always be weak. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyVO3TMy7TbyFpwUGaXdEDacvAdPWb5GHkRLR2Yb4wVWqKvvrpE0BJtSeGZ2R9d9veOC79y_Myv-qtQNo_RUtXHKRHH4DcksAhy-SaGS-6rW87kbFG1Mxf9VchYvZjeoPY7IdQsMUnqao/s1600/DSC_0125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="267px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyVO3TMy7TbyFpwUGaXdEDacvAdPWb5GHkRLR2Yb4wVWqKvvrpE0BJtSeGZ2R9d9veOC79y_Myv-qtQNo_RUtXHKRHH4DcksAhy-SaGS-6rW87kbFG1Mxf9VchYvZjeoPY7IdQsMUnqao/s400/DSC_0125.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div>Thank you for your unsolicited advice, but, I beg to differ. My God is bigger than that. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgykkkoRE1D7RIuFQWvBqhBV1XBV11oOJsMtgpsinfAcKl-Zl-Lz9-z7NNoBlpJOKRfHVPWJkWdNqMCrsDqWwleWpKT-Eo0haHl8SvTPa9466zdgyWN9gBawmtXepY-uxI6i6CX_Tve8fQ/s1600/DSC_0615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="267px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgykkkoRE1D7RIuFQWvBqhBV1XBV11oOJsMtgpsinfAcKl-Zl-Lz9-z7NNoBlpJOKRfHVPWJkWdNqMCrsDqWwleWpKT-Eo0haHl8SvTPa9466zdgyWN9gBawmtXepY-uxI6i6CX_Tve8fQ/s400/DSC_0615.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> Happy Birthday, Jackson! You make us so very proud to be your parents! You are a walking, talking, skating miracle. Non-stop talking miracle. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSJqiiS9TbKX52xkUrKfBrReKV8mQt4ZLWyN05pAN0AH39DNuv6Xx1SFpGCn5GgD_6FO_muumhjB7BC_xx5peJ3KYUrgMQ83cBbVo5KFOZhu0O2KTMHG9k2zytY1bvlUljhBiQe570tk/s1600/HPIM1589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="300px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSJqiiS9TbKX52xkUrKfBrReKV8mQt4ZLWyN05pAN0AH39DNuv6Xx1SFpGCn5GgD_6FO_muumhjB7BC_xx5peJ3KYUrgMQ83cBbVo5KFOZhu0O2KTMHG9k2zytY1bvlUljhBiQe570tk/s400/HPIM1589.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">No really, I'm talking, could you just shush for a minute?! Please!? Oh fine, carry on. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Love you, Chuck. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-8619670105486510642012-01-17T17:24:00.001-06:002012-01-17T17:36:35.787-06:00The End<em><span style="color: #073763;">This is a repost. Today marks one year since my Grandma passed away. Some days I still think that I am going to give her a quick call or stop in for some of her famous St Nick cookies. And then I remember that she's already Home. I miss her here on earth terribly, yet I rejoice in the life that I can't even begine to imagine that she has lived in Heaven this past year. Love you, Grandma Pearl! </span></em><br />
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You know when you are reading a really good book... and you near the end of it with just a few pages left... and you don't want to finish it? You don't want the book to end despite knowing its going to be great. You just don't want to be not reading that book so you try to draw it out longer? <br />
<br />
Maybe that's just me. <br />
<br />
This week my Grandma's <strong>story</strong> was completed. <br />
<br />
I knew it was coming and I knew it had to end, but there is still that overwhelming feeling of sadness that it is actually over. <br />
It was a great story, my Grandma's. I've written bits of her story many times in my life. The whole thing is just too much for one book. It's not a story of great riches or thrilling adventures in far away places. It's not a story that boasts of one's life. That's not what made her story great. <br />
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Her story was great because it was written by God and it was for God. And she knew it. <br />
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There was poverty, death, deceit, and hurt. But there was always HOPE. My Grandma's hope was in the Lord and no matter what was thrown her way, she was steadfast in that faith. If she was going to tell you a story that was about hurts and hardships, it was to prove that <strong>God was there with her</strong>. When her family didn't know where their next meal would come from, God provided. When her husband passed away unexpectedly on their 25 wedding anniversary, God was there. And that is what she wanted to make sure you knew by the time the story was over. <strong>God. Was. There. Always. </strong><br />
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Hers is also a story of JOY. She would do just about anything for anyone. She made everyone feel as though they were her favorite. She had a cheerful heart, welcoming people into her home. Sharing baked goodies. Sharing a good story. She loved to help out, that gave her and those around her great joy. <br />
<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/AVvXsEhHSK14FCuThdy8knmXuBRynXTWf5CTyRZZ1fGFWnzDRBG63t-W5PXfJ9LpwiBKs2bKDEK7MumJ-AxJRejBkhiJ8SFxu450nS7K5FYcgePGTdEb2-maej5PfsbksKyhwX02367f8Dm9C7s/s1600/HPIM0734.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240px" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHSK14FCuThdy8knmXuBRynXTWf5CTyRZZ1fGFWnzDRBG63t-W5PXfJ9LpwiBKs2bKDEK7MumJ-AxJRejBkhiJ8SFxu450nS7K5FYcgePGTdEb2-maej5PfsbksKyhwX02367f8Dm9C7s/s320/HPIM0734.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maicy and Grandma Pearl, Thanksgiving 2009</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAA1wTBa21Bn67O4eeijQluBIYEAemj-dERQU52ETG7eLx3T6gOq33o4K-rq8UhbLSdR8GAa9bVHG2OpJRxCdntudMq2oqArJdF0PItwDBf9gOcutkR4fg7SD-xSObOf6ShIYdTA3VoNA/s1600/HPIM0736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240px" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAA1wTBa21Bn67O4eeijQluBIYEAemj-dERQU52ETG7eLx3T6gOq33o4K-rq8UhbLSdR8GAa9bVHG2OpJRxCdntudMq2oqArJdF0PItwDBf9gOcutkR4fg7SD-xSObOf6ShIYdTA3VoNA/s320/HPIM0736.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson and Grandma Pearl, Thanksgiving 2009</td></tr>
</tbody></table> God made her story great. Her story was written for God. <br />
And as I write, I know the truth. <br />
This earthly story is just a prologue. Her real story is just beginning. <br />
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<em>I love you Grandma. You will be greatly missed, but the stories which you have woven into my heart and the memories will be with me. </em><br />
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<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">Isaiah 40:31 but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.</span></strong></em><br />
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Linking up with Michelle De Rusha at <a href="http://www.michellederusha.com/2012/01/hear-it-on-sunday-use-it-on-monday-gift.html">Graceful </a>and <a href="http://findingheaventoday.blogspot.com/2012/01/20-seconds-of-courage-soli-deo-gloria.html?showComment=1326842930548#c5082859015965740232">Jen and the beautiful gals of Soli De Gloria</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-38771363216663698772012-01-09T19:37:00.000-06:002012-01-09T19:37:18.478-06:00Oh...what's that you say? I write?!It seems as though have completely forgotten that I have a blog! Okay, I haven't forgotten exactly, I have just been... well.... avoiding it. Not for any particular reason. Mostly lots of little reasons that make up a good enough excuse for me to stay away from pretty much all blogs in general. However, I miss it. I miss my friends that I only know because of this blog and theirs. So, I am getting my feet wet once again and going to hopefully be around more often. <br />
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I will start off the year (I do not care that it is already January 9! The year is just beginning!) Anyways, I can't begin at this time and not look back at 2011. I started off by writing about my <a href="http://lifesajourney-alicia.blogspot.com/2011/01/2-weeks-later-and-i-have-just-1-word.html">ONE WORD</a> for the year. I chose <a href="http://lifesajourney-alicia.blogspot.com/2011/01/2-weeks-later-and-i-have-just-1-word.html">STORY</a> for my year.Feel free to re-fresh your memory...I'll wait. I had no clue what God had in store for my story in this year. I just knew that without a doubt, this was the word He wanted me to keep in my head. And then... just 2 days later I found out what His purpose was in that one word. Enter in: <a href="http://lifesajourney-alicia.blogspot.com/2011/01/this-is-my-story-this-is-my-song.html">Charlie Brown.</a> Go ahead and refresh your memory on that one. I just did and oh. My. It all came back to me like a tidal wave. I had no idea writing out those words declaring my absolute trust in God to protect and guard our hearts, just how much my faith would be tested. Of course, as I wrote those, I think I felt pretty confident that it would go MY way. Oh. What a difference a year can make. <br />
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I shared in <a href="http://lifesajourney-alicia.blogspot.com/2011/06/laying-isaac-down.html">June that Charlie Brown would be returning to his mother</a> in August. I don't know if I ever mentioned that we would know more in November after the review. This update is looonggg overdue as it is no longer November. And yes, that IS in fact the last time I posted. And if you want to get all Freud on me and discuss whether or not our November court date had anything to do with me not posting since that time, well, you just do what you need to. I told myself over and over and over that I knew it was coming and therefore no. big. deal. So. Anyways. After feeling like my life was on hold for 6 months and that I was holding my breath waiting for what I was told would be a permanency hearing, it was clear that Charlie Brown would stay with his mother. Court was just a review to see how she was doing. I wasn't shaken or shocked. Nothing changed. <br />
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Except that I could breathe. Sometimes just knowing makes the hard road easier. <br />
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He continued to be faithful. He continued to protect my heart. He protected my children. He held us close. <br />
He not only held us, but he opened our eyes prior to the court hearing. He showed me so that I wouldn't be caught off guard. Because He is good and faithful, I can share my story. And it is a <em>good</em> story. How could it not be? God is a<em> good</em> author. <br />
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<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine! </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;"></span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine! </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">Heir of salvation, purchase of God, </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood. </span></strong></em><br />
<em><br />
<strong><span style="color: #990000;"></span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">This is my story, this is my song, </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">Praising my Savior all the day long; </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">This is my story, this is my song, </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">Praising my Savior all the day long</span></strong></em><br />
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<strong><em><span style="color: #990000;">Still Praising my Savior.... for it is HIS story... </span></em></strong><br />
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<strong><em><span style="color: #990000;">Linking up with Michelle and Jen once again... </span></em></strong><br />
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<a border="0" href="http://michellederusha.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab239/mderusha/HearItUseItImage-1.jpg" /></a><br />
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<center><a href="http://findingheaventoday.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" src="http://i960.photobucket.com/albums/ae88/jenfergie2000/BloggButton.jpg" /></a></center><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-81474055436602763302011-10-31T23:09:00.000-05:002011-10-31T23:09:36.533-05:00More than a ChoiceI feel that some things need to be said and while the words may never be heard by the ones I have on my heart as I write them, but they need to be laid out just the same. Maybe it can help someone. Anyone.<br />
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Young people all around are hurting and my heart is heavy with their pain. <br />
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Every day we, as people, make hundreds of choices.<br />
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Sometimes you don't realize you are even making them. Other times it seems as though you agonize for a long time over what to choose. Many times, you make choices that don't seem to affect the rest of your days, weeks, months or even years. It was just another one of many choices. No big deal. <br />
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But there are times when we see the immediate effect of that choice- good or bad. And you deal with what is left afterwards. <br />
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And sometimes you feel as though the choices you have made are going to pull you under completely. <br />
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One after another. <br />
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The effects are on going and not for the way you had hoped. <br />
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Your world seems hopeless and you don't want to face another day. <br />
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You fear you have hurt those close to you one too many times and that they don't want to deal with your problems anymore. <br />
You fear you can't go home. <br />
Why would they want you there anyways?<br />
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Friends have desserted you. <br />
Mocked you. <br />
Shamed you. <br />
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The whispers as you walk into a room.<br />
The knowing looks from those who you pass. <br />
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You hear the names. <br />
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Failure.<br />
Loser.<br />
Slut.<br />
Addict.<br />
Worthless. <br />
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Words that cut. Words that hurt. Words that cannot define you. Words that you were never meant to carry the way you do. <br />
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You are not those words. <br />
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You are not the choices you have made. <br />
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You are not a mistake.<br />
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<strike>Failure. </strike>Chosen<br />
<strike></strike><br />
<strike>Loser. </strike>Loved<br />
<strike>Slut.</strike> Pure<br />
<strike>Addict.</strike> Free<br />
<strike>Worthless</strike>. Cherished<br />
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I know that to your hearts it sounds cliche, but you really are chosen, cherished, loved by God. And by so many around you. If you look, you will see more people who love you then scoffers. They are just a few. <br />
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God didn't make a mistake. <br />
He really does love you so much that he sent his Son to take over your debts. <br />
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Yes. YOU. <br />
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It can get better. It WILL get better. This is just one moment in time. <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/oF5CjtrIl_c" width="560"></iframe><br />
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Today, I know so many are hurting. It is my prayer that you can see that YOU are loved and cherished. And YES! YOU! are worth dying for. <br />
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And if someone you love is hurting... tell them you love them. No matter what. <br />
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Joining<a href="http://www.michellederusha.com/"> Michelle</a> and <a href="http://findingheaventoday.blogspot.com/">Jen</a> today.... <br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-83120620952943425482011-10-25T20:37:00.000-05:002011-10-25T20:37:12.075-05:00An Almost Sleepover ExperienceLast April <a href="http://amylsullivan.blogspot.com/2011/10/pictures-from-amy.html">Amy Sullivan</a> shared information about <a href="http://uscsnow.com/">an Almost Sleepover</a> idea started by 2 girls from Connecticut. They had their first almost sleepover last October and loved it so much that they wanted to know if other kids would want to do it too... all around the country. <br />
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So together with 32 other states, we joined in for the night of young girls learning how they too can make a big difference! <br />
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Since October is a long ways from April and life got in the way, I downsized a lot from my original ideas. At first I was discouraged, but Amy was great to remind me that even if it's just us and our girls, we are showing them that even one matters. We are still doing something for someone else and that is what its all about. <br />
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So, we had the girls in Miss Maicy's class over for 3 hours of PJ wearing junk food eating, blanket making, crazy dancing, donation collecting fun! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrluK7qyyQ8NYOAZDddrSDzXu5tnc7PzyBrfwyfmjuWxKkc_BBI0BjZ7e0cxTWfyg8c7T4LJ31BzyZI_Lo5UCUi9K06rYr2Y0oHpgAxAO4V-Bjl2rSm36NM28E1eX9UtyHmz8D9grB6VQ/s1600/DSC_0171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267px" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrluK7qyyQ8NYOAZDddrSDzXu5tnc7PzyBrfwyfmjuWxKkc_BBI0BjZ7e0cxTWfyg8c7T4LJ31BzyZI_Lo5UCUi9K06rYr2Y0oHpgAxAO4V-Bjl2rSm36NM28E1eX9UtyHmz8D9grB6VQ/s400/DSC_0171.JPG" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The take-home treats Maicy had fun making the week ahead. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVf-ELYORGiUV23PcTPXeekv-CcqJL9Bx60SPzUo5_kIUMNe6z9tTQTo5OftKQh3Iuk39YgqQsW7RVrpXWkHmJvVIwDQIlmPStmaGDaN5ni44aguI2PW_B1sbGsmW8I9HimTYQfamn2KA/s1600/DSC_0215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267px" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVf-ELYORGiUV23PcTPXeekv-CcqJL9Bx60SPzUo5_kIUMNe6z9tTQTo5OftKQh3Iuk39YgqQsW7RVrpXWkHmJvVIwDQIlmPStmaGDaN5ni44aguI2PW_B1sbGsmW8I9HimTYQfamn2KA/s400/DSC_0215.JPG" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Girls with their things. We collected detergent, bottles, diapers, garbage bags, socks, underwear, cleaners, sippy cups for Mid Sioux's Teddy Bear Den. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls also made 3 fleece blankets to give to our local DHS workers to give to kids who often are unable to take anything from their own homes when they are removed. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg02Jhaymsh2BPZ7GOdDrmpE7Bs60xX-UVqB3M0arUjMKYvKDc7s4pAlMO5D2mdwiLAKZ7HLurx65DINDV2ASaDU4G_XKQzuhxjEmhoSPkxvscxJNxaCe9KUiljn-hJ3jvdMLQ2_lxeOig/s1600/DSC_0221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267px" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg02Jhaymsh2BPZ7GOdDrmpE7Bs60xX-UVqB3M0arUjMKYvKDc7s4pAlMO5D2mdwiLAKZ7HLurx65DINDV2ASaDU4G_XKQzuhxjEmhoSPkxvscxJNxaCe9KUiljn-hJ3jvdMLQ2_lxeOig/s400/DSC_0221.JPG" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goofy girls! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5xgJ7ZZ1geR717_DY9AYGFDctMT9BI8wHn6axWbPrucetFaG9RPBxgNip0qLbAUgIRHZ198g-LiwiVew3mNIjN189XfBvcDtNLGmOqmBnQ8aJDu0vou_jguIGQNNEkG1nCC_kN6Z6Yww/s1600/DSC_0209.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267px" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5xgJ7ZZ1geR717_DY9AYGFDctMT9BI8wHn6axWbPrucetFaG9RPBxgNip0qLbAUgIRHZ198g-LiwiVew3mNIjN189XfBvcDtNLGmOqmBnQ8aJDu0vou_jguIGQNNEkG1nCC_kN6Z6Yww/s400/DSC_0209.JPG" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">7 hands makes light work. :) </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Thanks to Laurie Kinney and her great girls, Delaney and Addy, for teaching our girls that you are never too young to make a difference! See you again next year!! <a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-36780557803378106962011-10-05T13:22:00.001-05:002011-10-05T13:22:33.172-05:00Strong EnoughEvery once in awhile I cry out to God, on my knees. Begging, pleading for Him to show me answers. <br />
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And every once in awhile, He does just that. <br />
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As I drove home from a meeting with Charlie Brown's mom and yet another caseworker, I cried out to Him. The God of the universe. I needed for Him to show me HOW could I possibly make a difference in such a corrupt messed up system. How can the children stand a chance when we are in a major budget pitfall in the state? How can I make a difference as just one person when the state continues to slash social workers jobs, putting on hiring freezes while the case loads grow heavier for them every single day. How can I do anything when attorneys are being forced to cut time spent on cases because no one wants to pay them to do their job. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">HOW GOD?! </span><br />
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Nothing in this world makes me feel as small and insignificant as the government at work. I will be the first to admit, I do not follow politics. I do not write my governors, senators, representatives or even town council. So what can I possibly do? I feel helpless God. <br />
<br />
No sooner had I gotten the words out of my mouth, with tears streaming down my face as I drive home, then the song <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m8gsTLF9pL4">"Strong Enough to Save" by Tenth Avenue North</a> came on. <br />
<span style="color: #990000;">"Strong Enough To Save"</span><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">You fought </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">but you were just too weak </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">so you lost </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">all the things you try to keep </span></strong></em><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><em><strong>now you're on your knees, you're on your knees</strong></em> </span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;">But wait, </span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;">everything can change, </span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;">in a moments time you don't have to be afraid, </span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;">cause fear is just a lie </span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;">open up your eyes </span><br />
<br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">And he'll break </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">open the skies to save </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">those who cry out his name </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">the One the wind and waves obey</span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">is strong enough to save you </span></strong></em><br />
<span style="color: #990000;">Look </span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;">now is not too late </span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;">lift up your head </span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;">let the rain fall on your face </span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;">you're not far from grace, your not too far from grace </span><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">And he'll break </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">open the skies to save </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">those who cry out his name </span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">the One the wind and waves obey</span></strong></em><br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">is strong enough to save you </span></strong></em><br />
<br />
<em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">I know the weight of this world can take you down like gravity and I know the current of yourself can take you out, out to sea but hold on, hold on </span></strong></em><br />
<br />
I have fought, and yes, I am too weak. But God. <br />
God is strong enough to save.<br />
Even the wind and waves obey Him. <br />
His will be done. <br />
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<a border="0" href="http://nebraskagraceful.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab239/mderusha/UseitonMonday.jpg" /></a><br />
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<center><a href="http://findingheaventoday.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" src="http://i960.photobucket.com/albums/ae88/jenfergie2000/BloggButton.jpg" /></a></center><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-91146648702354575582011-09-19T13:26:00.000-05:002011-09-19T13:26:15.813-05:00Building Character<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4dzePX7LZAMxDiCANKtLO0dcvg5Jev_xs7EOoshI0LMmh2LDUgZSFJbgJVVkz5VU7V4-2gQSkfOpVv2ZHSxxr-A26iI2_KO4QVZ_fLswBRqLpTi0FK9jH8myfE8FtECLWpW35WiCpeT0/s1600/DSC_0600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214px" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4dzePX7LZAMxDiCANKtLO0dcvg5Jev_xs7EOoshI0LMmh2LDUgZSFJbgJVVkz5VU7V4-2gQSkfOpVv2ZHSxxr-A26iI2_KO4QVZ_fLswBRqLpTi0FK9jH8myfE8FtECLWpW35WiCpeT0/s320/DSC_0600.JPG" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
Two toddlers run around. One carefully checking out where the next move should be. <br />
The other running carefree. They collide. The careful one is instantly in tears thinking his life is over from that horrible "crash". The other oblivious and keeps on playing. Crashes are just a part of her day after all. <br />
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This is the image that goes through my head as the pastor talks about suffering building character. Resiliance.<br />
Paul talks in Romans about rejoicing in our suffering. <br />
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I don't think either child rejoiced about getting hurt, but one didn't let it stop her. It's happened before and she knows she'll be okay. Perhaps she turned to her mom to look for reassurance, and when she received a smile, she knew. All is well. <br />
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The hurt child doesn't know this feeling and doesn't like it. I am sure he too ran to his parent. Crying out for her to make it all better all the while wondering how on earth she could let this happen to him! Why would his mom let him get hurt? <br />
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Was the mom a bad mom? Was she mean?<br />
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No, but she knew he would be okay. She maybe did allow it to happen, but she knew he would watch out next time. Or maybe he would learn to not be so scared, to know that bumps and bruises will happen, but they won't be the end of us. <br />
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Is God a mean God because He allows us to get hurt? <br />
Or does He simply wait for us to learn from our hurts. To look to Him to know that it's going to be okay and it will not be the end of us. It may feel like it will be, but it won't. <br />
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Because we have hope. <br />
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A hope in Christ that no one can take away. <br />
A hope that comes from us being so low we need to look up and ahead. <br />
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<em><span style="color: #990000;"><strong>Not only so, but we<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></sup>also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. Romans 5:3-4</strong></span></em><br />
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<span style="color: black;">How is God instilling HOPE in you today?</span><br />
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Linking up Michelle De Rusha for Hear it, Use it. A great communitiy of faith writers- you really should check it out! :) <br />
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<a border="0" href="http://nebraskagraceful.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab239/mderusha/UseitonMonday.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-76849799029051777042011-09-08T23:51:00.000-05:002011-09-08T23:51:16.522-05:00Do SomethingThis week I have had the choices to make. <br />
Choice 1- feel sorry for myself - miserable, but does allow for extra chocolate consumption which I usually see as a perk <br />
or <br />
Choice 2- Do Something- listening to the people God put in my way- sometimes quite literally IN. MY. WAY.- and find that passion back that drove me to this journey of foster-adoption. <br />
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Since God has put people so literally IN MY WAY of feeling sorry for myself, I chose option 2. But don't worry, I still found reason to eat chocolate. <br />
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On Tuesday I had the pleasure of listening to one of the most amazing women I have met, share her story. Margot was here in Iowa speaking about <a href="http://www.compassion.com/">Compassion Int'l</a> at a college chapel. I was there volunteering to help at the Compassion booth. I really had no idea what to expect. After all, I only became a child sponsor last fall..<a href="http://www.margotstarbuck.com/Home.html">Margot Starbuck</a> is a woman who radiates so much joy and enthusiasm for life that you can't imagine she's ever had a bad day in her entire life. But the truth is, she has had many bad days and really if anyone could have justifiably made the choice to feel sorry for herself, it is Margot. Instead, she takes all she has been dealt and makes it her passion to tell others how much God loves them. Each. One. YOU. Compassion has allowed her to tell many children how much God loves them and that He really is for them . Not only through her sponsored children, but the audiences she speaks to and to anyone she meets on the street. And in the short time I got to know her, I am pretty sure that she really will stop you on the street just to make sure you know that true joy!<br />
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Hearing her passion for Compassion, got me to thinking about why I became a sponsor. And remembering that, also helped to refuel my energy to help children and stop feeling sorry for me. <br />
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Last year around October I believe, fellow blogger and friend, <a href="http://duane-scott.net/">Duane Scott</a> participated in Compassion Thursdays- highlighting a child in need of a sponsor. Honestly, I was going to breeze past it. I have heard of Compassion and thought about it, but I figured, hey, I am a foster parent for crying out loud, I am trying to do my part to help kids. I figured this was for other people and I left it alone. But God didn't leave it alone. <br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">So, why won't you sponsor a child?</span><br />
Well, God, you laid it on my heart to help the children. So I signed up to be a foster adoptive parent. So far, that isn't exactly going well. <br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">So, you'll only help the children who can come to you?</span><br />
Well, uh, no... but if this is all you wanted me to do, why would I go through this whole other process?? It makes no sense why you lay one thing on my heart and now tell me to do another! <br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">Is adoption only about the child's need?</span><br />
Well, no. I guess it is also about me filling my desire to have more children... <br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;">So, you don't want to do this because you won't get anything in return?</span><br />
When you put it that way... it does sound like that. <br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">Trust. Me. </span><br />
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And so I did. I knew that God was telling me to step outside my wants and my desires and reminding me that when I say I am here for His children, that I need to be there no matter what.Whether I gain from it or never see any personal change, I had to DO SOMETHING. And I did see change. After I trusted God. After I obeyed Him and acted on His call to help His children, not only was I blessed to have Charlie Brown come into our lives, we were also blessed by an adorable boy named Riski in Indonesia. Blessed by the fact that he and his parents pray for all of my family and loves my children as though they are indeed siblings. Blessed by knowing how little I do for him makes such a huge impact in his daily life. Blessed in being able to share with this child that God is For Him. Blessed in him telling us the same thing. <br />
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But it isn't enough. I need to do something! There is work to be done. There is much need for orphans and poor. Whether here in the U.S. or overseas in a poverty stricken country. We are Christians and we are called to DO. Not just a little. Not our extra. But to give of ourselves- give until it hurts. Not just financially, but give up ourselves. <br />
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The other person I listened to this week was via a link that was sent from our foster support group leader. This video is taken from the Adopting for Life Conference back in 2010. David Platt is a pastor, author, and adoptive parent. The video is almost an hour long, but I promise you, it is worth your time. <a href="http://comission.org/resources/?id=1469">http://comission.org/resources/?id=1469</a> I couldn't find the code to put the video on here, so you will need to follow the link. If you have ever considered fostering, adoption, child sponsorship, you need to watch this. And if you have never considered any of those things, you need to watch this. He spoke to so many of my emotions in such a powerful way. He really got me in the beginning when he said how we sometimes wish God would just take those longings away that He put there. If nothing is going to happen anyways, why do you want us to feel this way, God? I don't know how many times I have been on my knees saying those exact same words to God. <br />
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God is sovereign. There are no coincidences. He has it all planned out. Will you listen to His call, even when it hurts?<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-57286284535690339502011-08-23T11:26:00.000-05:002015-01-20T22:30:17.438-06:00My Grace is EnoughIn the past 6 weeks or so- after dealing with <a href="http://lifesajourney-alicia.blogspot.com/2011/07/jonahs-anger.html">Jonah</a>- there has been a very consistent theme running through worship. No matter what church I was in- even one starting the umpteenth Jonah sermon I had heard in a few weeks time!- the theme was there. Grace. God's grace. His grace is enough for me. <br />
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You may think that as I walked this <a href="http://lifesajourney-alicia.blogspot.com/2011/06/laying-isaac-down.html">dark journey</a> that was my summer, that that would have offered up peace to my<a href="http://lifesajourney-alicia.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-know.html"> trembling soul. </a><br />
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I am embarrassed to report- it did not. <br />
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I questioned God asking if His grace really truly was enough. <br />
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Rather than finding His grace I felt bombarded. Like someone has been adding weight to my chest daily.Then being pelted by enemy fire. Trying to dodge it, but feeling to pulled down to move. I felt like I was in a deep fog, unable to see the joy in what was my world. I was drowning in misery. I had no hope. <br />
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Even just this morning, I sat at home- the house empty as I brought the kids to school. I am won't lie- I was feeling a bit sorry for myself. <br />
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Then something changed as I chose to use this quiet time to catch up with the blogging friends I have missed so much. <br />
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Grace. <br />
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Yes, His grace has been there all along. <br />
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In the smiling faces at the zoo: <br />
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The crazy looks I get from my son... God love him. :) <br />
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My children and I conquering fears of ferris wheels... or not (pretty sure she's looking off to the side to make sure we won't fall... ) <br />
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Kids feeling as though they can jump to the moon... <br />
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Coasting over the tree tops at the Iowa State Fair. This was her greatest joy of the week. <br />
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There is grace in the everyday. Their is joy around. Yes, sometimes it feels as though the world is caving in around us and we are being trapped alive. But there is always grace, if we seek Him. <br />
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Choosing to find grace and linking up with Michele and Jen...<br />
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<img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /> aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-73585332765476607312011-08-12T12:25:00.000-05:002011-08-12T12:25:52.552-05:00I knowI know I need to update this, but I really don't know what to say. <br />
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Yesterday Charlie Brown was picked up from our home and taken to live with his mother. He has never had a visit with her that I was not present for. He has never in the course of 7 months spent more than a few hours away from me. I can count on one hand the number of times that it wasn't me who put him to bed at night. He has only ever had one whole night without me, and that was within the first month of his being here. <br />
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And yes, I knew it was coming. I knew that at 1:00 that car would pull up to take him to her in a residential facility. Knowing does not actually prepare you for it happening. <br />
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Today my arms are empty. The baby monitor is turned off. The car seat removed from my car. The bottles are put away along with the diapers. There are no toys scattered all over my living room floor. No random little baby socks among the couch cushions. The contagious laughter that was his is missing. The million dollar dimples remain only in pictures. <br />
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Doors slam as kids go in and out, and I want to stop them because the baby is sleeping... then I remember. <br />
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Knowing all of this is coming does not stop the pain. It does not stop the tears that can't stop flowing. None of the Bible verses and nice sayings and thoughtful messages ease the emptiness in my heart right now. <br />
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I do know that it will eventually get better. I know that I will see him again in two weeks to take him for a medical appointment. I know that there are people far worse off than me. I know that I signed up for this. I know that because of God and His great goodness I will get through this. I know that Charlie Brown is safe. I know that she loves him and cares for him. <br />
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But for now, I grieve the empty quiet place that I am left with. <br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-43060207835254805252011-07-18T22:52:00.000-05:002011-07-18T22:52:11.410-05:00Jonah's AngerOur pastor has been spending some time in the minor prophets of the Bible for the last several weeks. Actually at both our “summer” church and our regular church we have been studying these. I love to see how that happens sometimes. And while the minor prophets always intrigue me a bit, I love to see how God uses the <a href="http://lifesajourney-alicia.blogspot.com/2010/09/insignificant-me.html">insignificant</a>, you know, I really wasn’t expecting to get what I did from Jonah’s story. <br />
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We all know this one- Jonah fleeing, the storm at sea, swallowed by a great fish, then he listens. And that in all honesty is usually where I always stopped. I never paid much attention to <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=jonah%204&version=NIV">Jonah 4</a>. Well, it has my attention now. <br />
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For those of you like me- here is a recap. Jonah goes into Ninevah and warns the people that God is telling them that they have to repent and change their ways. They have 40 days and then God will bring his wrath upon them. Well, surprise surprise, the awful, horrible, no good, very bad, mean , evil Ninevites surprised everyone- especially Jonah, and repented! So, God was moved so much and happy with them, He changed His mind and had mercy on them. He spared them. <br />
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And Jonah, who should have been jumping up and down with delight because the people heard the message that he himself delivered from God, pouted. He was ticked. Really God? You are going to spare them? <em>Them</em>. Seriously? Do you KNOW what they DID?? Have you forgotten? <em><strong><span style="color: #990000;">Hmm… Jonah. What about you? Did you not that many weeks ago disobey me and run in the entire opposite direction of where I told you to go? Did you openly accept my grace and mercy? Why is my Grace only meant for YOU? I am here for the sinners. </span></strong></em><br />
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At first, I sat there pointing my finger, pashawing Jonah from my comfy chair in church. Then God turned my pointy finger right back at me. <em><span style="color: #990000;"><strong>You, Alicia? Really? Why do you think that my grace is only meant for you? You pray for Charlie Brown’s mom. You say you want her to heal and make it. You say you want her to know Me. Yet, when it looks to you like she is going to “win,” you sit there and pout. Except you won’t openly admit how very mad at me you really are. At least Jonah yelled at me. You hide in the shadows and have one foot pointed in the direction I told you NOT to go. I haven’t forgotten you. I have given you grace. I gave Jonah a vine to shade himself, and he let it die. I give you a support system and a church and friends to help you, and you run the other way so you don’t have to face them. Don’t let your vine wither away, too. </strong></span></em><br />
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Bottom line, God IS in control. No matter how He wants it played out, that is how it will happen. He has His reasons. I don’t know why or how. I can’t stomp and pout just because it didn’t go how I thought it should. Doesn’t mean I won’t let Him know how I feel once in awhile. And yes, it really did take this sermon for me to realize how very angry I am. I feel the wall going up around my heart. Brick by brick I know I am allowing the devil to pull me away. I don’t want to feel anything because to do so, could cause me to crumble completely . And yes, even as I write that, I know that that is precisely where God will make Himself known to me and use me. <br />
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Linking up with Michelle and Jen<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-72289199163114366132011-07-12T21:00:00.002-05:002011-07-13T14:55:12.621-05:00A note from Charlie Brown...<div style="text-align: center;">Good Grief. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I can't believe it's been a month since this blog has been written on! </div><div style="text-align: center;">I need to interject here, since my favorite foster mama doesn't seem to take the time. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Things are going well. We are enjoying this beautiful summer weather- I especially like to be outside in the grass or swinging or going for stroller rides or watching Jackson and Maicy have water balloon fights or hanging out at the pool. Did I mention I love summer?!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRT2A_UmJuZ7PTkXstwGFqgPB8b0hOZJpVnKzHCywPL9WGgCPfmbc6-zL0xx_CAJSGfviQQ4PC5QKVUUyDXPBmi262JRbpb-_rmawKnzEBt5ekTVSYFYMkJDy5Q8GSqZ5CvEZL772_PBQ/s1600/Charlie+Brown.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400px" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRT2A_UmJuZ7PTkXstwGFqgPB8b0hOZJpVnKzHCywPL9WGgCPfmbc6-zL0xx_CAJSGfviQQ4PC5QKVUUyDXPBmi262JRbpb-_rmawKnzEBt5ekTVSYFYMkJDy5Q8GSqZ5CvEZL772_PBQ/s400/Charlie+Brown.JPG" width="348px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I also love to eat and travel, things we seem to do an awful lot of. It seems like I am always myself in the mirror on the back of the seat. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We visit my other mom, she seems nice too.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I hear I am going to spend some time with her soon.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I think that I will be sad to leave my family here- these kids really are lots of fun to hang out with! But, one thing they keep on teaching me here is that Jesus Loves Me and He will watch over me wherever I go. And that we get to visit each other soon. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I don't know who I am going to live with forever yet, will you pray for me in that regard?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I love my family here an awful lot, and they love me an awful lot too. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But I know my mommy loves me and misses me too. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">That's why I am glad I don't have to decide. God is the supreme judge and so He gets to decide. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh here, my FFMama has something to add... Good Grief.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>I am sorry for disappearing. We are busy enjoying summer and working through a lot of stuff here. </em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>I have tried to at least stop by and read other blogs, but blogger is not being kind and I can't leave comments. I hope to get this situation resolved soon! I don't know if it's my computer or if it is Blogger, but it is frustrating just the same. </em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>I will be back soon, but Charlie Brown had some stuff to say first. :) </em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Hope you are all having an awesome summer! </em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Linking up with Jen and the Soli Sisters...</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-52013024451376147812011-06-13T00:00:00.001-05:002011-06-13T20:25:35.463-05:00Laying Isaac DownA few weeks back I was reading some of the link up's to Michelle's Hear it on Sunday linky party and I came across <a href="http://www.jumpingtandem.com/2011/05/is-god-crazy-or-what.html">Deidra at Jumping Tandem</a>. She wrote of the story of Abraham and Isaac and how Abraham did not argue with God. He took his son <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=genesis%2022&version=AMP">WHOM HE LOVED</a> and was prepared to take his own knife to him, because God commanded it. And much like Deidra, I want the rest of this story. I want details here. I want to know if Abraham was sobbing uncontrollably. Was he stoic instead? Did he sleep that night before? Instead all we get is "God will provide the lamb" to his obviously confused son. Steadfast faith is evident. <br />
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<a href="http://www.jumpingtandem.com/2011/05/is-god-crazy-or-what.html">This post</a> has stuck with me since reading it. Nagging me. So I read and re-read in many different translations the story of Abraham and Isaac. I have been bothered and not wanting to talk about it because I know what God is telling me. We have to lay our "Isaac" down. we need to bring this son whom we love and present him before God, and God alone. We are being called to act out our faith, no matter how painful and bring Charlie Brown before God and trust that the Lord will provide. <br />
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This has been killing me for weeks. To think of giving him back to a shaky situation at best has my stomach in knots. I haven't wanted to talk about it, because saying it out loud makes it too real. And there is always the hope that I am wrong, oh what a blessing it is to be wrong sometimes! <br />
After struggling with this inner turmoil for so long, last night I finally found my peace. <br />
Re-reading this passage again, I know what God is calling me to do. <br />
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TRUST. <br />
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Not in the "okay Lord I trust you so lets go ahead and do this my way now" kind of trust that I seem to fall into so very easily. But that undenying "God this is your child, he is yours, I give him to you fully without any conditions because I know that you love him and<em> I will still praise you"</em> trust. <br />
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The Lord will provide. He will provide a safe home for this sweet baby. My prayer is still that that will be our home, but without knowing even that, I need to say "Here he is Lord, this son whom I love. I give him fully to you." <br />
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And, because the lack of details in Abrahams story are so frustrating to me, I will share with you this. It is with deep anguish and despair. Gut wrenching sick feelings. The tears flow and I try to cling. I move in slow motion as to not rush to the day when we are called up. I pray for this son. I pray that he is not hurt and can have his life without unnecessary pain. I yearn for it to be different, but cannot deny what my God has asked. And I know that He will provide.<br />
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<em>I now have to mention that I wrote this over a week ago and was unable to publish it at that time. I knew I wasn't ready. This past week we have learned that these feelings were right. As sad as this makes us, we have peace that can only come from above. I know that when the day actually comes- 6 weeks or so, we will mourn, but today, we enjoy our little man and praise God for the gift of his light in our life these past 6 months. </em><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-83633087315613800602011-05-30T04:00:00.006-05:002011-05-30T04:00:05.894-05:00HidingThe thoughts rush through my head and I try to ignore them. <br />
The what ifs. The sick feelings. The check lists. The statistics. <br />
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I lay awake with worry. I walk around with a pit in my stomach. <br />
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I know I need to open the Word. <br />
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I know I need to go to my Father and lay it all out before Him. <br />
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But I don't. I can't. <br />
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I send up a short plea and stop short. All I've managed to cry is "<span style="font-size: xx-small;">help</span>" In a teeny tiny voice. And then I run so I don't have to hear His reply. Even if it was to comfort me. It is a risk I am not willing to take. So I suffer some more. <br />
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I refuse to read blogs- they hit me in the face with the Truth and right now, I just don't want to hear it. <br />
I don't pray because I am unable to say "Your will be done." I want to say "let me have my way" and since I know I can't do that, I hide. <br />
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A friend pulls on me. Nagging me with prayers and scripture. She keeps trying to shine a light in my dark hiding place. Talk about annoying. <br />
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Finally, I cave a little. I open my "go to" devotional book- <a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Jesus-Calling/Sarah-Young/e/9781591451884">Jesus Calling by Sarah Young</a>. I have read it all before, but each day is different. I open the book to the day. <br />
"<em>The world is too much with you, my child ...Though I yearn to help, I will not violate your freedom. I stand silently in the background of your mind, waiting for you to remember that I am with you" </em><br />
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And I thank Him for loving friends who care enough to come in to my dark place with annoying flashlights. For the flick of the lightswitch chasing away the darkness. And pour out my heart to Him so He can carry me. <br />
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<em>Zephaniah 3:17 The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. </em><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-44801407399899850642011-05-25T04:00:00.001-05:002011-05-25T04:00:07.288-05:00De Klompen and the Tulips<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Last week it was the wonderous time of year again where the entire town seems to shut down and we all swap our Nikes for wooden clogs and long dresses. Except for the boys- they switch to short pants. Knickers. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We eat too much, we laugh, we get <strike>grumpy and impatient and snap at each other </strike>tired and worn down but still treat each other with love and kindess. </div> <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/AVvXsEhX3JBpjC7Np8zIrWN1WsN951B5aTvgzDHRbUhpZxWKRRPkWWVKJ514fYe8oyY-GlGIQ9X4paQyae4ZWiD-5Ub98abmmY1T_Ihoc6lS_t-kW-YcUigttaarz0fnWjrotjLZOOATfPgr3CY/s1600/DSC_0281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX3JBpjC7Np8zIrWN1WsN951B5aTvgzDHRbUhpZxWKRRPkWWVKJ514fYe8oyY-GlGIQ9X4paQyae4ZWiD-5Ub98abmmY1T_Ihoc6lS_t-kW-YcUigttaarz0fnWjrotjLZOOATfPgr3CY/s400/DSC_0281.JPG" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"smile or you won't get to eat a funnel cake! " </td></tr>
</tbody></table> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This week I am worn out and the crazy hasn't quit yet, so this will most likely be the only blogging I do.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In the mean time, just enjoy some pics of our crazy Dutch traditions and please, head on over to my friend <a href="http://dianeestrella.com/">Diane Estrella</a> who is using my poor boy's picture of misery as a <a href="http://dianeestrella.com/">MicroFiction muse.</a> I can't wait to see what creativity she comes up with :) </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV4R85i0b7uJ8XxFncTG3eQ6-GV25VWwrGPOaWbVEm_KQxEnKdQNwUEyg2wjNtthCOAk300B38iJyaO5dDoP08geJruy3gnsmn5brlPCT3hto_jXGblU7GJRWnPsz88wTytxi6F0e8TB8/s1600/DSC_0307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV4R85i0b7uJ8XxFncTG3eQ6-GV25VWwrGPOaWbVEm_KQxEnKdQNwUEyg2wjNtthCOAk300B38iJyaO5dDoP08geJruy3gnsmn5brlPCT3hto_jXGblU7GJRWnPsz88wTytxi6F0e8TB8/s400/DSC_0307.JPG" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgat6C0gsKmCBSr-vtA5-G7Nw6xfJmgB0JHdmI1sNHybAbw0TS2crqY2CQgZCKecdD0D1R3FQVzw0dkJsK6htkaOnjonhqydOldepliBLD2PH_4Bsc5H4Pm-H5tSlwSdC-2fyR2U197PBU/s1600/DSC_0322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgat6C0gsKmCBSr-vtA5-G7Nw6xfJmgB0JHdmI1sNHybAbw0TS2crqY2CQgZCKecdD0D1R3FQVzw0dkJsK6htkaOnjonhqydOldepliBLD2PH_4Bsc5H4Pm-H5tSlwSdC-2fyR2U197PBU/s400/DSC_0322.JPG" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hockey teams in the parade! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYRLPW57iZaBwSEzuL4j8HQExwUCujkqabrgWkPOtckKqMu7XGRIEdhYqC69XcJIwqBpcJ27caaqgv931WiPTOxoJAVnpIZ24u6TW1UA_LxpZl5tfm0vD31HUczo71yxj93mgHxXEXJo/s1600/DSC_0286.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYRLPW57iZaBwSEzuL4j8HQExwUCujkqabrgWkPOtckKqMu7XGRIEdhYqC69XcJIwqBpcJ27caaqgv931WiPTOxoJAVnpIZ24u6TW1UA_LxpZl5tfm0vD31HUczo71yxj93mgHxXEXJo/s400/DSC_0286.JPG" t8="true" width="267px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My girl is the tall one... of course :) </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTijz6eWZug8XrOjJ83ug7RJpcU8JRx6A9pXZUf8nGRv-UJ9CzbS-1ftT5VteLd_TSQ16HwqrmMPQcSIcj4LsY44wFA7pRUPb3Yp6D8nGlFw_b_eHEDEq8Kpj2pD_Zk88sx6g9AUPrxFo/s1600/DSC_0308.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTijz6eWZug8XrOjJ83ug7RJpcU8JRx6A9pXZUf8nGRv-UJ9CzbS-1ftT5VteLd_TSQ16HwqrmMPQcSIcj4LsY44wFA7pRUPb3Yp6D8nGlFw_b_eHEDEq8Kpj2pD_Zk88sx6g9AUPrxFo/s400/DSC_0308.JPG" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blowing off some steam at the carnival..</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrfQwulY9GROj1Gn6lVZs7rTiQPW_L7jKmRv5XpSQ_v1oPxw3z8huvJBya4Ca4t7BJX3jER3g_h2BpGc5-owRCk3rw4bI21ALKGfJokPamfWltZAMjTOHyLmF4NemC2d_cdOnQiEoklk/s1600/DSC_0312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrfQwulY9GROj1Gn6lVZs7rTiQPW_L7jKmRv5XpSQ_v1oPxw3z8huvJBya4Ca4t7BJX3jER3g_h2BpGc5-owRCk3rw4bI21ALKGfJokPamfWltZAMjTOHyLmF4NemC2d_cdOnQiEoklk/s400/DSC_0312.JPG" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Benefits of a cold spring- perfect Tulips everywhere! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpVq5djXeXbcu4x7mlKuab3eTYb3ZPaQ-uYnJ8uiFQr_EHpIH7CRXKV4WXG_zrp8FME6h4w3a-fDrxcirzNBs6IeQjtKnB1sJGtL5LhR_Ls3vB5C_i_2qDTb9bSr5UoLUux3u_EaMYz_M/s1600/DSC_0330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpVq5djXeXbcu4x7mlKuab3eTYb3ZPaQ-uYnJ8uiFQr_EHpIH7CRXKV4WXG_zrp8FME6h4w3a-fDrxcirzNBs6IeQjtKnB1sJGtL5LhR_Ls3vB5C_i_2qDTb9bSr5UoLUux3u_EaMYz_M/s400/DSC_0330.JPG" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jackson is having SO much fun! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhFqWuyS6BYc0OE-Mde0OfG_W6GH7X5gbGUHliGxLw_xdUP0vcUu_fA42srpY0_lvcf6Qr_O844_6iHJEhpnb3rRN2iYbHpR_GVNuvLmyMxCqagCUadu9cXFpJPpvBfNsT5S2xsLls4E/s1600/DSC_0339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhFqWuyS6BYc0OE-Mde0OfG_W6GH7X5gbGUHliGxLw_xdUP0vcUu_fA42srpY0_lvcf6Qr_O844_6iHJEhpnb3rRN2iYbHpR_GVNuvLmyMxCqagCUadu9cXFpJPpvBfNsT5S2xsLls4E/s400/DSC_0339.JPG" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Attempting to dodge a kiss from Aunties... </td></tr>
</tbody></table> <a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-25791293854983397582011-05-17T11:22:00.001-05:002011-05-17T11:37:33.274-05:00She asked me Why...At our last visit with Charlie Brown's mom, she did the inevitable. She looked me square in the eye and asked why I decided to become a foster parent. <br />
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It isn't a ridiculous question, and I am asked it quite often. But it is a hard question to answer when it comes from the parent of the child in your home- especially when you are in the Foster to Adopt program. Not just any old Foster parent program. It's hard to answer and say "because I want to be a forever family to a child in need whose parents can no longer take adequate care of them" Hmmm.... I know her well enough to know that would not have gone well. So I gave the same answer I do when I'm uncomfortable and don't know what to say- I cracked a joke and brushed it off. Something about being legally insane to willingly get involved with DHS and court systems and the state of Iowa. Not altogether a lie, but definitely avoiding the truth. <br />
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Unfortunately God wouldn't let it rest. That answer was not good enough for Him. While I didn't appreciate the nudging, I do appreciate that He knows me enough to know that if I am going to be honest, I need to do this via letter. So I did. <br />
Here is my answer to her:<br />
<br />
And then, the million dollar question. Why did we become foster parents? I know I avoided answering, and it isn’t always an easy answer for me, but I feel as though I owe you the real answer. I have very personal reasons for doing this and honestly my answer has changed in the 3 years since we began. I was very blessed to give birth to two of my own kids, however that was a miracle in and of itself and after those two, I could not have anymore. I knew I wanted more kids and adoption has been on my heart since I was young, because I never thought I would be able to have any of my own kids. We looked at a lot of options and I prayed about it a LOT. We very definitely felt God calling us to look at the waiting kids here in the US. So, we took our classes and got our license and then we waited. We have done a lot of waiting. Yes, my first selfish reason for doing this whole process was to be able to adopt kids for our family. However, after being in this system for a few years, God has shown me the reasons He brought us to this point. I know that I may never add any of our kids to our home forever. We may never be a forever family. And that is okay. We are able to be there for children who need us. We can offer them safety, stability and love when their world is turned upside down. I am seeing how corrupt the foster system can be- families who have no business taking care of anyone else’s kids. People who don’t offer love, but wait instead for a check. My heart is for these kids. Kids bounced around from one place to another. Kids being treated like a burden rather than a joy. And that is why I am here. That is why I renew our license and put up with the state’s crap. I love kids, I love taking care of kids. Are we the perfect home? Not a chance. I have failed placements in my home. I had to see my limitations and have them transferred. But I am here to try. I am doing what I can. A small thing in a big world that needs a lot. <br />
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I just can’t be the person grumbling about the foster care system or feeling so sad for kids who need a place and not do anything about it. So, you may worry that my goal is to keep your son, but that is not my goal. My goal is to help him for a time in his life when he needs it. Has he stolen my heart? Most definitely! Look at him, how could he not?! My desire is for Charlie Brown to have the best life he can possibly have and to know at all times that he is loved. No matter where he is. And that is the honest truth.<br />
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Okay, this was probably more information than you wanted, but like I said, I feel as though I owe you the full truth. I do also hold to my original answer: you must first be crazy, or it just won’t work in this system.<br />
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I will find out Wednesday what she thinks of my honesty... <br />
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<em>James 1:27- Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after <b>orphans</b> and widows in their distress </em><br />
<em>John 14:18 I will not leave you as orphans, I will come to you</em><br />
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<em>Linking up with Jen and Michelle today... </em><br />
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<a border="0" href="http://nebraskagraceful.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab239/mderusha/UseitonMonday.jpg" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-77914522847558051702011-05-13T13:49:00.000-05:002011-05-13T13:49:30.925-05:00Thank You Blogger.<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Yesterday's post has gone completley missing. I can find it nowhere. Thank you blogger for all of your help. I really appreciate it. Nope really, I appreciate it because now my mind is made up.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I will be switching to Wordpress soon.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRJtzJtnWwwvnXJc6wpomAflJXvHsMEWd2qyza-EXsyJyBwEFaTtBVXanYYpdPuPNe4cR8CaFXJMfNVTLUfEDlo8Jlt7zWT-gIWzZGMC7vqfsNzC9TtsfplRAXBMFIsJvxpwytX2P4suI/s1600/May+2010+176.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214px" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRJtzJtnWwwvnXJc6wpomAflJXvHsMEWd2qyza-EXsyJyBwEFaTtBVXanYYpdPuPNe4cR8CaFXJMfNVTLUfEDlo8Jlt7zWT-gIWzZGMC7vqfsNzC9TtsfplRAXBMFIsJvxpwytX2P4suI/s320/May+2010+176.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9199132557531810846.post-26414647251745881562011-05-12T12:18:00.000-05:002011-05-13T15:29:02.793-05:00Pleastly DisturbedI don't know if y'all have had the distinct pleasure of "meeting" <a href="http://duane-scott.net/">Duane Scott,</a> but if you haven't, you should. <br />
The guy is too wise for his years and also a bit off the wall at times, which fits right into my kind of read. Every so often, as the spirit moves him- which really, is the only way to go when talking about being disturbed- you can't try to schedule that, he hosts a <a href="http://duane-scott.net/mines-bigger-than-yours/">Pleasantly Disturbed Linky Carnival</a>. This is that day. And after many times of laughing and nodding, I am FINALLY joining in. <br />
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I realize that this should have happened long ago as I am so obviously disturbed to those who really know me, but it seems I never was at the right time. Thankfully however, I spent approximately 6 hours or more in the car with 3 kids this week and they filled me up with more than enough material. Which is also followed by a sad part. I can only remember ONE thing from the entire weekend that I wanted to tell y'all! And the fact that after 3 days, THIS is what sticks with me probably says a lot about me and my mental capacity. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHc8-HyZPqzuViK_Y_efYy3ZhV54d10TG5RVL-rZ-WPtShnfoBYKisLblbpuwgSlhFEA6bP069wagRjFi1K2pRaMdyR6xgpEz2rKB-rasJ_7SDc0JvqZwHp5FsnBfKdQoaOjbItJfo_Bc/s1600/New+Image.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214px" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHc8-HyZPqzuViK_Y_efYy3ZhV54d10TG5RVL-rZ-WPtShnfoBYKisLblbpuwgSlhFEA6bP069wagRjFi1K2pRaMdyR6xgpEz2rKB-rasJ_7SDc0JvqZwHp5FsnBfKdQoaOjbItJfo_Bc/s320/New+Image.JPG" width="320px" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup, she's ALL mine! :) </td></tr>
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So, we are driving along the familiar highway to Nebraska, munching on McD's drive thru as usual. I was busy dodging orange cones and crazy drivers- I was NOT the crazy driver eating and getting 3 kids fed, I promise. And from the backseat my dear 8 year old pipes up "look mom, this chicken lost his nuggets!" <br />
I'm sorry, what? <br />
<br />
She had eaten all the breading off her chicken nugget and held up a less than appealing looking wad of chicken chunk. Evidently the nuggets are the outside. <br />
And I may never eat a chicken nugget again. Or I might just ask if he has his nuggets first... <br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/313/B5C8C9A9D44AC025ED1DEEEFA7A06D48.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>aliciahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12258131603482525764noreply@blogger.com0