tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12254457636225554422024-03-13T01:51:53.477-07:00Unconventional Catherinewww.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.comBlogger67125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-10870974036991867532020-04-20T23:31:00.001-07:002020-04-21T13:37:46.524-07:00Lives or Livelihood is the Wrong Question <div>
<br></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3_NsoWpD2rWILp37Np51_EAtsRe-qCK37Bp76xITGAiC32Kt7PGM-atxfHqxP2JakUdTi7BvD-HltKkkkRDjOKLy0XT1tmv_EV2Hw_baSaCWYiEXEHQvhpOXA9IJOAYVuH8FD7Sqp0cK5/s1600/DEAC1C90-F64B-4CBB-84D2-0BBDEF7F2878.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="567" data-original-width="849" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3_NsoWpD2rWILp37Np51_EAtsRe-qCK37Bp76xITGAiC32Kt7PGM-atxfHqxP2JakUdTi7BvD-HltKkkkRDjOKLy0XT1tmv_EV2Hw_baSaCWYiEXEHQvhpOXA9IJOAYVuH8FD7Sqp0cK5/s320/DEAC1C90-F64B-4CBB-84D2-0BBDEF7F2878.jpeg" width="320" id="id_88d7_5b66_8870_f2f9" style="width: 320px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
I have loved ones that are considered high risk. Being infected with Covid-19 would place their lives in extreme peril. The thought of them, infected, so sick and so alone, possibly dying alone is unthinkable. Two of my five daughters have immune issues and being infected would be life-threatening. I can’t imagine, as a mother, not being with them should they have to battle this wretched virus. <br>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
I watch the battles over public opinion on the news. Should the bans be lifted? Are the governors taking the correct steps? Are the protestors correct for standing up for their Constitutional rights or is it okay for those rights to be limited in extreme cases? And if so, for how long?<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZVQbEhzqEZ8PiuDBgBTnZ4d1mpupgJ7EV9RExTVK38UTTTW9kuAjnjtHne0ICnBB0Kad87Rzpy1Q7oxQcI-UiWRANQOz_081k_eu7o2isohM0eRk88eFv7vbLge2K_Likm_zyj3c76Yr/s1600/64CFAA74-071C-446C-86CA-33B544591027.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZVQbEhzqEZ8PiuDBgBTnZ4d1mpupgJ7EV9RExTVK38UTTTW9kuAjnjtHne0ICnBB0Kad87Rzpy1Q7oxQcI-UiWRANQOz_081k_eu7o2isohM0eRk88eFv7vbLge2K_Likm_zyj3c76Yr/s320/64CFAA74-071C-446C-86CA-33B544591027.jpeg" width="320" id="id_2888_79df_5db6_1af5" style="width: 320px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
The range of extremism is crazy, founded on fear, hyped up by the media. (Yes, I said it.) On the one side there is the “this virus will take months, possibly a year or more to resolve.” On the other side there is “the rate of death from this disease is still only one percent of those infected.” (Some sources say 3%. An accurate count has been difficult to obtain.) </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
We face an economy that, if not started soon, could face consequences that make the 2008 recession seem like a walk in the park. But people don’t understand what it means when the oil price bottoms out below zero or what rampant deflation can do. They don’t understand what industries will collapse if oil production is halted and a crisis comes. And after hurricanes, floods, and wars, despite living in a pandemic, many still feel a crisis won’t occur. Wars are started for less. Depressions are sparked by less. And yet, when those that know economics and history speak up, urging us to open whatever we can, they are attacked viciously, with words that accuse them of neglect and even murder. But read and research for yourselves! Read about the impact of <a href="https://www.investopedia.com/ask/answers/040815/how-does-deflation-impact-consumers.asp" id="id_6a96_6441_ae81_5c7c">deflation</a>!<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2gJVQgfVuPmpwvbin707uyc-AXda9aZy08YzM9jR0k8e_3xtjywBZKAJti8rd-r9bwjfZxS6GuzpTBsWrmUwJSSE5n9heuVraIoQs9hmG_tM5pD2365s2djFIRIO08e4euWgu61HqxZUa/s1600/1B748A1D-E0C9-4D06-8459-4FC5DCCAB3E7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2gJVQgfVuPmpwvbin707uyc-AXda9aZy08YzM9jR0k8e_3xtjywBZKAJti8rd-r9bwjfZxS6GuzpTBsWrmUwJSSE5n9heuVraIoQs9hmG_tM5pD2365s2djFIRIO08e4euWgu61HqxZUa/s320/1B748A1D-E0C9-4D06-8459-4FC5DCCAB3E7.jpeg" width="320" id="id_c8bc_4e7b_fa4a_1fda" style="width: 320px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Social media viewing is like a roller coaster ride after eating hot dogs and nachos and cotton candy. It makes you nauseous. It’s a snapshot, I believe, of the varied opinions that are freely shared without repercussions or accountability. One person I know only shares negative Covid-19 articles about doom and death. Another only shares conspiracy theories. It makes me wonder if the calamities that have befallen before in our history we’re forgotten or just didn’t impact them like this one. Perhaps, on 9/11, it seemed remote because they didn’t know someone that died and didn’t experience the terror and destruction except through a TV screen. Perhaps in the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, it wasn’t a loved one of theirs that served. For many, this is truly the most life altering event that has ever occurred to them. What blessed lives they must have lived up to this point!</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
History teaches us many lessons, but nearly four in ten Americans can’t name one right guaranteed by the First Amendment of our Constitution. So when those rights are trampled, they think it okay and can’t understand the outrage in others. The term “inalienable” is not one they truly understand. History lessons that happened during the Spanish Flu or The Great Depression are not ones that seem applicable to them. One daughter of mine always used to say, “it’s a bunch of dead people,” until she began to read and learn about the struggles and determination in those people. How many of us understand that those times could be repeated? </div>
<div>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAOL27nZs6YGxMFNaA6SKQRXDYszUMLH5AqsysL07BAyy0g3oklpkIshogu1aUxciMAgx8gq-z84pv7js5Xdovli7MV66DZVy3MOet-L9VC5nSYyM1ZcXwU8wWXVGWIgzXS5ErHS1tGPTq/s1600/3A6FB434-3154-4C4D-BE8A-B9A8DDF01926.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAOL27nZs6YGxMFNaA6SKQRXDYszUMLH5AqsysL07BAyy0g3oklpkIshogu1aUxciMAgx8gq-z84pv7js5Xdovli7MV66DZVy3MOet-L9VC5nSYyM1ZcXwU8wWXVGWIgzXS5ErHS1tGPTq/s320/3A6FB434-3154-4C4D-BE8A-B9A8DDF01926.jpeg" width="320" id="id_b87b_4647_162c_4158" style="width: 320px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br>
<br></div>
<div>
Life for many of us may has stopped or has been contained in our dwellings, but that won’t stop the bills that come due. There may be a temporary suspension on certain things like evictions, foreclosures, and cutting off of utilities. There may have been a stimulus to help, for which many are still waiting, but it won’t cover everything for long. All of these measures are merely band-aids on what is slowly becoming a gushing stab wound. The economy isn’t just “livelihood;” It is the future. Just because you can’t see the calamity happening from your living room doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
We won’t just pick up where we left off back in the beginning of March with no penalties. The unpaid bills will come due. Unemployment, as many learned in the 2008 recession, only lasts for so long before it runs out, leaving millions with no income to feed their families and pay the bills. As the artist Eminem stated, “... these *%#* food stamps don’t buy diapers.” They also don’t pay the bills.<br>
<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu8cGGwCzfav3LAS4RlWbmPi7aVhNPE8jJkMrB1-1CfME5dZ9NGKZddSbrN_CHD8WJjxZIv5Z17BoMZ36CKbEPJ4f-6MrBq2DbUnM0LHoNqkocEPpihkCdueYEFnJVoqhxYSB7dGSvE4gf/s1600/BB722140-0D72-4650-B8AE-C15C8F43CA10.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu8cGGwCzfav3LAS4RlWbmPi7aVhNPE8jJkMrB1-1CfME5dZ9NGKZddSbrN_CHD8WJjxZIv5Z17BoMZ36CKbEPJ4f-6MrBq2DbUnM0LHoNqkocEPpihkCdueYEFnJVoqhxYSB7dGSvE4gf/s320/BB722140-0D72-4650-B8AE-C15C8F43CA10.jpeg" width="320" id="id_5634_3f15_5b59_5603" style="width: 320px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Recovery from the 2008 recession didn’t end suddenly. It took years for many to get back on their feet. The domino effect was felt for a long time as people ran out of unemployment benefits and had to take jobs that paid significantly less than their previous income. The banks wanted to be repaid in full. Defaulting on mortgages, bankruptcies, and the economic downfall impacted many families for several years after the 2008 recession. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
If you haven’t lost everything you spent years building, it is hard to understand the toll it takes. It isn’t just the lost houses, but the degradation of failing, even when it isn’t your fault. A working class family may scrape for years to save a few thousand dollars, only to see it disappear within weeks of an economic downturn. It impacts marriages. It impacts families. It impacts, like ripples in a pond, every area of life. Unemployment leads to higher rates of depression, spousal and childhood abuse, and even suicide. So no, it isn’t “livelihood.” It’s lives... pure and simple.<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdI5empTH5fuzx9BxKEa6XcSnO7IhLCnMiEpqkY_PKNSDfbbUwxzCNkw4KiOW8uYFQwopf5LALl_R09rp2lEJ-pzI3NBXAX6ah5eMc1aAACKUjCSYS66w1lrVG5mKVLMAI1IVrTzsbFcRS/s1600/787F6C02-0324-479D-90A8-10ECFA6EB260.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdI5empTH5fuzx9BxKEa6XcSnO7IhLCnMiEpqkY_PKNSDfbbUwxzCNkw4KiOW8uYFQwopf5LALl_R09rp2lEJ-pzI3NBXAX6ah5eMc1aAACKUjCSYS66w1lrVG5mKVLMAI1IVrTzsbFcRS/s320/787F6C02-0324-479D-90A8-10ECFA6EB260.jpeg" width="320" id="id_5553_944_c762_f2ba" style="width: 320px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Covid-19 could cost the lives of my daughters, but so could losing the jobs that provide insurance for quality health care. Anyone that believes “Medicaid” and other state-sponsored insurance programs give the same quality of care as job-sponsored or premium-paid health insurances has never been told they had a six-month wait to see a dentist because the one office locally that accepts the government insurance only sees “Medicaid” patients one day a week. They have never been denied needed treatment or access to treatment programs because their government insurance isn’t accepted. They haven’t had to drive for an hour one-way to see a doctor that accepts their insurance, only to be told that their appointment had been cancelled or wait for hours in a crowded waiting room because this doctor or dentist is always full. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
The lives lost may not come immediately, but a severe economic downturn does cost lives. </div>
<div>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3n2u3Z6AcjHHtmBo-KJGb2rXKaSssb2Lm8vkh1sP0dOVP-wFo_l7S_IWisFwMoZ2g76B0N_gHlZdTDDgiq9fc8rzRL5q5CUeGrBI95hYrv2ID9VFaCPzSTGLYCOzQIwrtHbhP88MJH9E1/s1600/58B5BADC-0A10-44F0-B5DC-4A65D1CF8ABD.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="791" data-original-width="1187" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3n2u3Z6AcjHHtmBo-KJGb2rXKaSssb2Lm8vkh1sP0dOVP-wFo_l7S_IWisFwMoZ2g76B0N_gHlZdTDDgiq9fc8rzRL5q5CUeGrBI95hYrv2ID9VFaCPzSTGLYCOzQIwrtHbhP88MJH9E1/s320/58B5BADC-0A10-44F0-B5DC-4A65D1CF8ABD.jpeg" width="320" id="id_f121_c6e3_d885_98f3" style="width: 320px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br>
<br></div>
<div>
And let’s talk about the lock-down of the economy and normal life. Those “out-patient” surgeries that were delayed aren’t all little procedures. My church is praying for a man in extreme pain due to a back injury. The surgery to repair the damage was delayed. His pain is unbearable. And another man had a meeting postponed indefinitely about being placed on the kidney donor list. He needs a transplant. How long before dialysis stops working and he is deemed too ill for a transplant? Again... lives. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
The quarantine was put in place to slow the spread of Covid-19 and to protect the most vulnerable. It was never meant to be a long-term situation. We are still learning about this disease and don’t have all the answers. It is called “novel” for the Italian word “novella,” meaning new. The quarantine was meant to give time... time for doctors and hospitals to prepare, time for medications and treatments to be developed and tried. It was to give time to make sure ventilators and beds were set up and ready should they be needed. The quarantine was never meant to last until a cure was found. It was meant to buy some time. But time becomes a game of Russian Roulette as we stay shut down, with the lives of those that might be most at risk are balanced with the lives of those where waiting also has an extreme cost. That is what is meant by “the cure can’t be more costly than the disease.”<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZAJ6NH1QFjg1B4trUIYEwAVjKj1aqP-6x16mJtg8Cymk8y_2Bt1oezgUxBJngsuIqozCoE1x_X0Q-znSbCCjx6-smXaD5i0PlvqV1EwkHf2JcgTfBr7QoWwQzOa-lkzDmKndKYymxuO54/s1600/1D6FE112-3D85-48A3-967E-08CDB7B38360.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="518" data-original-width="776" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZAJ6NH1QFjg1B4trUIYEwAVjKj1aqP-6x16mJtg8Cymk8y_2Bt1oezgUxBJngsuIqozCoE1x_X0Q-znSbCCjx6-smXaD5i0PlvqV1EwkHf2JcgTfBr7QoWwQzOa-lkzDmKndKYymxuO54/s320/1D6FE112-3D85-48A3-967E-08CDB7B38360.jpeg" width="320" id="id_a0a9_4945_4ea5_e5ee" style="width: 320px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
It’s not a decision I would like to be responsible to make.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Are you going to tell the kidney transplant candidate that his life is unimportant? What about the man contemplating suicide six months from now when he and his family are homeless as unemployment rates soar and deflation overtakes the country? And, if the economic downturn turns into a depression that lasts years, do you think we can just continue to print money to throw at the problems? Basic economics tell us that leads to worse issues.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
I agree that we won’t emerge from this crisis the same. I think many believe that the only repercussions will be they will be more careful of their health. The truth is that we won’t be the same because we had to make choices that weren’t comfortable or easy or fair.<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicsmdeyQpl75VY2iH0kQCN_4CPcc9_C8pV1uYn23CgNk3muwKFwNpVLoY2J-gHGsy5ePApmJx-oHVS-f-GytCKu2DAPYjIqHYxz-om0hfj7fN47eSR8GGnCreqY2-AV9CoRa3IJdBqlqwV/s1600/430947F3-679C-43EB-8E04-3100CAC00E92.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicsmdeyQpl75VY2iH0kQCN_4CPcc9_C8pV1uYn23CgNk3muwKFwNpVLoY2J-gHGsy5ePApmJx-oHVS-f-GytCKu2DAPYjIqHYxz-om0hfj7fN47eSR8GGnCreqY2-AV9CoRa3IJdBqlqwV/s320/430947F3-679C-43EB-8E04-3100CAC00E92.jpeg" width="320" id="id_1b82_d1fb_143a_679" style="width: 320px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
What I hope is that fear stops ruling and wisdom makes an appearance. It isn’t fair to ask me to risk my daughters’ lives... or my parents’ lives or my friend with cancer to open the economy prematurely. It is also not fair to dismiss the consequences of keeping it closed. But I can try to protect my family members by all of us taking precautions and maintaining distance if possible. There is nothing I can do to protect my family from the impact of long-term unemployment and an economy that collapses. Fear is ruling, and the proof is that I still struggle to find toilet paper or hand soap or disinfectant. I read yesterday that frozen pizzas are now being hoarded. Frozen pizzas! </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
So, if we stay locked down, will getting food be a challenge the entire time? The price increases we’ve seen in groceries and staples sure don’t match with the gas prices. We’ve set up strict standards, are being tracked on our cell phones to grade citizens on their compliance, and have decided what is and isn’t essential. Some states even have hotlines to report people not in compliance with social distancing measures. Could there be anything more Nazi-like? Most are gladly willing to comply to save lives for a time, but how long is long enough? Do we wait until no one is dying? Because we already know a reoccurrence could happen in the fall. Do we wait for a vaccine that might take a year or more to develop and certainly poses risks? Do we wait until a couple weeks after the peak, as is what is being encouraged, and slowly open things back up in phases while continuing to protect the most vulnerable? Do we continue measures in the hardest hit places for a longer period of time, but lessen them in the places that haven’t been impacted to the same degree?<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-du37ZHhYJdXey0Exp92NHvQZRiSXIRD4-SVzpu5V6MEXZ6iQojXS31-B3hiZ0u4iRTFCGaxJZFXx-g1K7ks5gcbXWfXIKoNc_LuuXVaOBRmj2HSRVAPSvVTRSJYAMMSqPb2xOp8PipzH/s1600/63CA292E-E2A0-482B-8028-F99B58F57751.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-du37ZHhYJdXey0Exp92NHvQZRiSXIRD4-SVzpu5V6MEXZ6iQojXS31-B3hiZ0u4iRTFCGaxJZFXx-g1K7ks5gcbXWfXIKoNc_LuuXVaOBRmj2HSRVAPSvVTRSJYAMMSqPb2xOp8PipzH/s320/63CA292E-E2A0-482B-8028-F99B58F57751.jpeg" width="213" id="id_c75d_8cde_43c6_eeba" style="width: 213px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Do we wait until there are no small businesses left because they have disappeared due to the weight of not being “essential?” Do we watch our big stores that have already been struggling in the age of Amazon completely disappear from our landscape because they were closed for so long? Do we keep our parks, our restaurants, our schools as abandoned for another few months or a year? Do we continue to hope parents can pay for their internet with so many having been laid-off; or for them to maintain the car payments to take their child to a WiFi hotspot so they can “do school” online, in the back seat? What’s the limit and what qualifies you to make it?</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Again, I am grateful it is not me having to make the tough decisions. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
I am blessed because we still have an income. I am blessed because my faith has never been stronger. I am blessed because my county has a .07% rate of infection. I am blessed because we have been homeschooling for over a decade and this hasn’t completely altered my daughter’s life. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
I’m also aware and alert. History is happening, and I don’t want to miss the lessons. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-52550997064086643742019-11-23T17:34:00.001-08:002019-11-23T17:42:45.537-08:00 Be Free or Die<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio_o_T03dxtecBqB-BW4bS4T1czOfgS8H3FVYk2oGjj2x1ZkDBn4KKGXpKvM70jrGZRO0BD2HAWEIuAsY1JALRYxvUn1I6tKU1ng2Khq4B1_eAjPTW4P4Kpu4mREMzfWCQPwnUqf9m9eoW/s1600/EBBBCDC6-E755-4726-BED0-01E2225C2E5E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio_o_T03dxtecBqB-BW4bS4T1czOfgS8H3FVYk2oGjj2x1ZkDBn4KKGXpKvM70jrGZRO0BD2HAWEIuAsY1JALRYxvUn1I6tKU1ng2Khq4B1_eAjPTW4P4Kpu4mREMzfWCQPwnUqf9m9eoW/s320/EBBBCDC6-E755-4726-BED0-01E2225C2E5E.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
“I will be free or die.”</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The words spoken in the movie <i>Harriet </i>struck me to my core. Sitting between my mother and my twelve year old daughter, I was struck by the story of an American icon and hero. She loved her family and her people so much, she risked her life repeatedly, going back into slave territory over and over, to lead slaves to freedom through the Underground Railroad. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I didn’t hesitate to take my twelve-year old daughter to see the film. It was gritty in spots, but I want my daughter to read books and see movies about history that are true. If anything, this movie was tame in the depictions of slavery. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I appreciated the fact that Harriet Tubman’s faith was not taken out of this depiction of her life. She knew slavery was a sin. She knew God. She prayed. She spoke to Him. She loved Him. She would rather have died than to remain a slave. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At one point in the movie, she is addressing leaders of the Underground Railroad. She explains to them the realities of slavery and the dangers of getting “comfortable” and “waiting for a war.” She knew that suffering would continue unabated for thousands of slaves; that continuing to lead slaves to freedom was a risk worth taking. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I heard a missionary tell my church a few years ago that, “There are more slaves today that ever in the history of the world.” The reality of the sex-trade and sex-slaves is not in our face as much as slavery was in the face of those living in the south during Harriet Tubman’s life. It is hidden in the profit-making businesses of porn, drugs, and prostitution. We don’t see the children sold into slavery today at our local Walmart, but they exist today is numbers we struggle to count. We don’t see the horrific videos of child sex-slaves on prime-time television. The videos are hidden online, and we only occasionally hear of the “busts” by law enforcement as they uncover child porn. We joke about Epstein in memes and get fired up about the “Me Too” movement, but rarely seriously consider the reality of more slaves now than in history.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Harriet Tubman lead slaves to freedom. “I will be free or die.” How many could we bring out of modern-day slavery today if we felt the same way? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Harriet Tubman’s faith led her. I was reminded, in the midst of the movie, as she was called “Moses,” about the story of Moses... and the story of Jesus. Moses led the Israelites our of slavery in Egypt. Harriet was nic-named aptly. I was also reminded of Jesus.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jesus leads all that accept Him out of slavery. Like the leaders of the Underground Railroad, I think Christians become comfortable. We forget we were slaves; slaves to sin, slaves to our earthly nature. Some of us have been redeemed from horrible bondages. Some of us were addicted. Some of us were murderers, thieves, adulterers, profane in our very nature. Some of us were just lost, angry and confused, emotionally bankrupt. We were slaves. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
“I will be free or die.” </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The quote takes on a new connotation when we remember Jesus freed us from slavery. He freed us from bondage. He freed us and we are free indeed. And like Harriet, we need to understand that there are still many living in the scourge of slavery, both physically in modern-day slavery, and spiritually. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Don’t get too comfortable. Our freedom has been bought, but we were bought for a high price, and many others still remain in bondage. </div>
www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-86913731751900263782019-10-13T21:34:00.001-07:002019-10-13T21:36:52.305-07:00 Swimming at MidnightTaking the first actual vacation we have had in a few years, I found myself late at night in this first night out in the hotel swimming pool, just me and my twelve year old. We often get some time, just the two of us, but it’s usually full of school or driving in the car, running errands. Just to have thirty minutes of relaxing, swimming, just us, is rare. Even when it’s just us, at home, we have distractions. Screens surround us... phones, TV, YouTube, so many screens.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkrdDcZRBZnjUMhvuQcPFpXnag7Fza0GtrziJS3XnQOPMv-FiUnUSPTzV4HdGAFrg-I-iLiKdToRFeCMBgaHy8P6OvcD2aCFsA36TYMeL4gDLopbN1atNFS1dYXMHQ80tTstXRRDCk8V6U/s1600/A5BC0B65-9C8A-4295-9F41-28065BE15A1C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkrdDcZRBZnjUMhvuQcPFpXnag7Fza0GtrziJS3XnQOPMv-FiUnUSPTzV4HdGAFrg-I-iLiKdToRFeCMBgaHy8P6OvcD2aCFsA36TYMeL4gDLopbN1atNFS1dYXMHQ80tTstXRRDCk8V6U/s320/A5BC0B65-9C8A-4295-9F41-28065BE15A1C.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
I cherish these few times of just us, swimming, talking, laughing. I will remember them. I’ll remember that she still wanted me to watch her do a canon ball and a handstand in the water. I’ll remember her sideways swimming that ran into me. I’ll remember her chatter as we dried off and made our way up in the elevator. She still wants to push the elevator button. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKHhjru0SuBDqLC-BDeaU1nLso4jL91vo_5xs_33AQSJMvN0EpWuJH6kZsTlDUj4IxD_IxUYTastQ6acLL6tdy0O8tMKpskaDccjL8KfgCHKjPC8q-9uhp9j_TkZXWuFnYbrgC-717IqMw/s1600/5D63461C-0A6B-415A-9351-F45192A332C9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKHhjru0SuBDqLC-BDeaU1nLso4jL91vo_5xs_33AQSJMvN0EpWuJH6kZsTlDUj4IxD_IxUYTastQ6acLL6tdy0O8tMKpskaDccjL8KfgCHKjPC8q-9uhp9j_TkZXWuFnYbrgC-717IqMw/s320/5D63461C-0A6B-415A-9351-F45192A332C9.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
These moments don’t last forever, but the memories might live on in my heart... and the pictures. </div>
www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-8267775020740526122019-10-02T21:48:00.001-07:002019-10-03T19:37:35.188-07:00 God in the UnexpectedI’m in the last couple weeks of my college classes, except for my internship. I am working hard. One of my last classes is Philosophy of Religion. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBcXey1LVrVYTuFciysACKgMhWKE6hYSNioSeWgI4rnKoB6X8AePboA37MxZDHmf3vowcfND0vx6qIJMqG1CyrdzqemDa4P7STq6ErwOdEwJMQT8ieTMeO114ijEJxmM-NSTyrYDsTbbfw/s1600/04060CA8-CB8A-4514-8766-2E46EFFFB1DD.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBcXey1LVrVYTuFciysACKgMhWKE6hYSNioSeWgI4rnKoB6X8AePboA37MxZDHmf3vowcfND0vx6qIJMqG1CyrdzqemDa4P7STq6ErwOdEwJMQT8ieTMeO114ijEJxmM-NSTyrYDsTbbfw/s320/04060CA8-CB8A-4514-8766-2E46EFFFB1DD.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This is a class I almost dread every week. It’s very humanistic. I’ve taken other classes that were quite outspoken. In their anti-Christian sentiments. It’s a secular college, so I knew it would occur. Over the last few years I have definitely gotten an education in what secular colleges are putting into the minds of their students. It makes it easy to understand much of the sentiments and thought processes by many anti-Christian millennials and liberals. As much as Christians are accused of indoctrination, I am no longer surprised by the shallowness of thought I am exposed to in some of my classes. And make no mistake, there is little tolerated of a different opinion. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Philosophy of Religion seems to have more of a mix of thought, however, within the students. It’s an online class, which may actually be a benefit. People will share views in discussion boards that, in a classroom of students, might take more courage. Like on social media, there is a bit of protection being behind a keyboard. Thoughts are expressed a little more freely, perhaps, because we don’t have to see the faces of those that might be offended. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I tend to ask God, in the midst of different struggles, “What do You want me to learn from this, Lord?” Asking that has changed my perspective about many situations because it gives me a positive thing to focus on... what God wants me to see, or do, or change. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In this class, I find that I read the textbook, and I get a tad frustrated at the bias shown. Even though the students are a good mix, the coursework is still quite secular. And yet, I have found a blessing in disguise.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Every week there is a discussion board or two and a journal entry or two that is graded. The topics and questions always come from the reading. I may be presented with one point of view, the secular one; but I have the ability to research. I’ve found myself digging out books I haven’t read in years and rereading sections that correlate with the text I’ve read.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am thankful that, when I was a new Christian, God led me to books that answered questions. He led me to Lee Strobel, for example, and showed me the research that was begun by an atheist that wanted to prove his Christian wife was wrong about her beliefs. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I find myself digging through these books, seeking answers to questions I haven’t researched in many, many years. Despite the secular thought presented in the text, I find my faith being strengthened. I remember my beginnings with God; back when I was a mom searching for truth, searching to fill the void. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As a Christian of many years now, I absorb the knowledge differently. The questions I had then are not the same questions I have now. Now, I have different ones. Or perhaps it is safer to say that I stumble across stuff I never thought about, but when faced with it, it still lights up my heart and mind. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I read once that study is a form of worship. God often speaks to me when I study. Many times it isn’t necessarily in a Bible study when something is revealed. It can be a fictional story, a tv show, or, like now, a college class. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
God can and will be found in many unexpected places. He won’t stay in the boxes where we often place Him. He will speak, if we seek Him, even in the midst of a secular college class.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-24963526057755331872019-01-11T22:15:00.003-08:002019-01-11T22:15:52.119-08:00Candid<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvowp1qFrk54WzaZj6OvXJiCsG50U79pEHI8kdB4vZu1mCfqU5kLNS4UhufP7IbSDkaGJluFSCGmCcLBZZas1AZuKDmWXuUrg-JNAHCTc7fSn8BAzvZPHftRnYUDjV_EEWTAb6DXQL2TG0/s1600/IMG_0938.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1109" data-original-width="1600" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvowp1qFrk54WzaZj6OvXJiCsG50U79pEHI8kdB4vZu1mCfqU5kLNS4UhufP7IbSDkaGJluFSCGmCcLBZZas1AZuKDmWXuUrg-JNAHCTc7fSn8BAzvZPHftRnYUDjV_EEWTAb6DXQL2TG0/s320/IMG_0938.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I am learning more and more. One of the things I always did when I was younger, from the time I was fifteen, was to take my camera with me nearly everywhere. Today, we do that with our smartphones. Everyone always has a camera with them, and the cameras in smartphones have improved immensely over the last several years. There are a few fun videos on YouTube that show shoot-outs of a professional, expensive camera versus an iPhone camera. The results vary, depending on the video, but the truth is that even the best iPhone camera is limited in its specs. I can take some awesome pics on my iPhone that look marvelous when uploaded to Instagram, but if I were to enlarge the photo to an 8 x 10 or larger, the photo might not look so sharp.<br />
<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/AVvXsEioe9gKiMNNgYEQqHIAe3WXBRywung1yKFecGTcQ0BUJHwSoyIx9rb3neQOTMfGUewUiz1u7hEXwMlRlzUNM0M4WnCfQRHniDmP3Rw5L-IJdps2ZTSQUxkwr0BUtVZFER66d-L18T0XLHn2/s1600/IMG_0064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1122" data-original-width="1600" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioe9gKiMNNgYEQqHIAe3WXBRywung1yKFecGTcQ0BUJHwSoyIx9rb3neQOTMfGUewUiz1u7hEXwMlRlzUNM0M4WnCfQRHniDmP3Rw5L-IJdps2ZTSQUxkwr0BUtVZFER66d-L18T0XLHn2/s320/IMG_0064.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">iPhone photo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But... I still want to have my camera with me. When the opportunities arrive, when the image is there that might never come again, I want to be able to take a quality shot. Yes, I will have my camera at holidays and major events. The best pictures sometimes happen when I'm not at an event or planning a shot.<br />
<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/AVvXsEjV5ZI_9_JhoWo4867KGDuGb-QRI02Di1Cp2LDWxB7DrJaXSqQgOyAOPPInA1ThqmnRc-FLYK7BKTJF83BH_rMZ5xdNWFMc7StDOjMKGUQGv_qjtggDzcrKWFdnQbtn3BsPmAn11L1bGMki/s1600/dec2015-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="838" data-original-width="838" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5ZI_9_JhoWo4867KGDuGb-QRI02Di1Cp2LDWxB7DrJaXSqQgOyAOPPInA1ThqmnRc-FLYK7BKTJF83BH_rMZ5xdNWFMc7StDOjMKGUQGv_qjtggDzcrKWFdnQbtn3BsPmAn11L1bGMki/s320/dec2015-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A picture while walking.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I go walking a lot. Some of my best pictures happen when I am walking. I encounter so many awesome images on these walks: the river with wildflowers around it, the reflections in the pavement of the trees overhead on a rainy day, the light as it streams through the trees. With a young daughter still at home and grandchildren, I don't want to miss those moments, those little moments that make up a life. <br />
<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/AVvXsEi7uEPcIp7L_gsSYAdObwT3vASVBGDVJDLXoNzJ4aVman2jyABUVqd5YvHqpt9lvvAEx7iztC_w4nA3oirWsENYzVNgHxrezttw-3S2ys2eLc3bVCtn1zrm86MzhyphenhyphenAzBEi-oDuMEeyElHcE/s1600/DSC_0016+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1543" data-original-width="1600" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7uEPcIp7L_gsSYAdObwT3vASVBGDVJDLXoNzJ4aVman2jyABUVqd5YvHqpt9lvvAEx7iztC_w4nA3oirWsENYzVNgHxrezttw-3S2ys2eLc3bVCtn1zrm86MzhyphenhyphenAzBEi-oDuMEeyElHcE/s320/DSC_0016+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Got to capture those candid moments.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I am not a professional. I am a hobbyist. I have helped in the professional realm a few times and it has been scary and fun at the same time. I never felt that my photography was very good. I never invested a lot of money into it because, with five children, the money just wasn't there. I stuck with my point-and-shoot cameras and simply recorded our lives. I got some nice pictures over the years. I loved shooting with film, but realized how wonderful it was to not have to measure every shot and debate whether I could afford to get all the rolls developed if I took all the pictures I wanted.<br />
<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/AVvXsEhbQ59yqsw6f6PtkSUk2cvTwMSbJcHYADC6-XfjMRZqs3vuJBXQp-RATkuJ1s_vExAYc_OoFcUAVSI62UAbvZfjdsbJJd-YPPPFtxi-1JvmDejRbVcUOGOfowdrOKf1kPlabH5cx6XadH9f/s1600/aug2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="644" data-original-width="960" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbQ59yqsw6f6PtkSUk2cvTwMSbJcHYADC6-XfjMRZqs3vuJBXQp-RATkuJ1s_vExAYc_OoFcUAVSI62UAbvZfjdsbJJd-YPPPFtxi-1JvmDejRbVcUOGOfowdrOKf1kPlabH5cx6XadH9f/s320/aug2012.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A picture I took when I got my Nikon eight years ago.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I was given a DSLR eight years ago for my birthday. I have used it often. I would use it a lot for awhile, then set it aside and use my smartphone camera. More and more my smartphone camera was used because it was with me. In all honesty, Nikon that was a gift is bulky and difficult to have with me all the time. There's a photography quote that says, "The best camera is the one you have with you."<br />
<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/AVvXsEg7ixpVsRaeOS2zT0bsLhilXs-WJh-bcsG-nndOcqND5x8wTHOCb02hY2DbRhktoriQzIJkWvJSmvimIfQ1sIwWutHnsFhDHigOXG9RYu95Yw-YuWsawQ4gY4al_P42Mr2_tOIUP9yfbqho/s1600/DSC_1354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1600" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ixpVsRaeOS2zT0bsLhilXs-WJh-bcsG-nndOcqND5x8wTHOCb02hY2DbRhktoriQzIJkWvJSmvimIfQ1sIwWutHnsFhDHigOXG9RYu95Yw-YuWsawQ4gY4al_P42Mr2_tOIUP9yfbqho/s320/DSC_1354.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some moments are too important to miss.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
There is a documentary on Netflix that I have watched over and over. Finding Vivian Maier is a beautifully done documentary about a street photographer that was undiscovered during her life. Her work was discovered, but by the time she was tracked down, she had passed away. She has gained attention because of the substantial amount of work she left behind and the amazing quality of the art. When the filmmaker interviewed those that knew her, they all said that she always had her camera on her. She would go walking and take photos all over Chicago, recording the people on the street and a substantial amount of history along the way. She purposely looked for the shots. But she also took a ton of shots that were taken of the kids she took care of as a nanny, of the moments in her life, simply because she always had her camera on her. <br />
<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/AVvXsEjh4fVhy_l03mqdRm9fvA94GFreJHjW8flS26fythB8kADYd9O2hCJk5M0-4JqRhRVpgIiowvCDRGnQIwYZkSZ3S0STszArgKe1a0jeteFMib0h5CUkagXEvlkaDqQ68zH_spCs0putPxuQ/s1600/DSC_1403.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1027" data-original-width="1600" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh4fVhy_l03mqdRm9fvA94GFreJHjW8flS26fythB8kADYd9O2hCJk5M0-4JqRhRVpgIiowvCDRGnQIwYZkSZ3S0STszArgKe1a0jeteFMib0h5CUkagXEvlkaDqQ68zH_spCs0putPxuQ/s320/DSC_1403.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Having a camera on me means I can capture my loved ones.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I have to be honest, that is hard to do with the bulky Nikon that I have. The ones that I have looked at or borrowed are just as bulky or too expensive for me to purchase. And so, I find myself considering options I hadn't considered previously. Mirrorless? Do I need less features? How important are megapixels? Can I get by with less? Do I need to use a less "professional" camera to have the ability to keep a camera with me at all times?<br />
<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/AVvXsEjFy-Vy1CZfPOsDaCS_YS4OoMYAgtXi5r4dxNM3Qtelw902csihfQuR7xm5ygKJhoGqyg8GrvHLgFO_rfjw3SEM4rvQGMgOA1GOjL7P5oZphUWpK7y9Xp0Y3_DEOBeCUVNLhh9L5D_Au0gU/s1600/DSC_0539-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="973" data-original-width="1600" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFy-Vy1CZfPOsDaCS_YS4OoMYAgtXi5r4dxNM3Qtelw902csihfQuR7xm5ygKJhoGqyg8GrvHLgFO_rfjw3SEM4rvQGMgOA1GOjL7P5oZphUWpK7y9Xp0Y3_DEOBeCUVNLhh9L5D_Au0gU/s320/DSC_0539-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Self-expression and art are important to me. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
These are the things I am thinking about as I research and pray about the next step in my photography. For me, it is going to be more about capturing the journey and creating art more than being a professional. I am going to work in a library. That is the career path I chose. I am excited to do so. Photography fulfills me in a different way than research and books. It is a different way to express myself. I am learning all I can because I want to create awesome images. I want to capture the candid moments that I might miss if I don't have my camera on me because carrying it was inconvenient. www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-8982137591102099132018-12-21T12:48:00.002-08:002018-12-22T11:14:22.268-08:00The Storyteller<i>"We are all storytellers, photojournalists of lives that are rich with tears, bruises, tenderness, strangeness, and humor." </i> George Lange in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Unforgettable-Photograph-Secrets-Taking-Pictures/dp/0761169237/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1545505926&sr=8-1&keywords=the+unforgettable+photograph">The Unforgettable Photograph</a><br />
<br />
When I was fifteen I received my first point and shoot camera. Even before that moment, I loved to take pictures. I remember using someone’s camera (probably my mom’s) to take photos of my Barbie dolls. <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Through the years I must have taken hundreds of rolls of film. (Yes, film. That probably makes me old.) I would take photos of daily life. I wasn’t ever super great at the posed stuff, but I captured candid moments often. They were my favorite, perhaps because they tell a story and reflect people.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJqGeFjIt6gpofLym_NHvG1_NppxrbY5slF33YGAN8OKcRQQLYUwuiDETr61XKA4Z-K4GDmqYLXuBRUtqXUH_y3lrLIIQjvb9kIps_EDVIgN5MASNWIqO7LBbZF8u_zFaZnR-70mU72bfV/s1600/IMG_9869.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1423" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJqGeFjIt6gpofLym_NHvG1_NppxrbY5slF33YGAN8OKcRQQLYUwuiDETr61XKA4Z-K4GDmqYLXuBRUtqXUH_y3lrLIIQjvb9kIps_EDVIgN5MASNWIqO7LBbZF8u_zFaZnR-70mU72bfV/s320/IMG_9869.jpg" width="284" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was often teased for my photo obsession, especially in the moment when I always had a camera in my hand. My husband would groan at the boxes of photos, albums, and negatives. But the few times someone thanked me for taking the photos, for capturing the moments that were fleeting and then gone, it was worth all the groans and jokes. When I had pictures of my nephew after my sister lost her home and most of their things in a house fire, I felt as if taking those photos had been a gift. When my brother-in-law thanked me for all the photos I took of his girls while I babysat them, because he never took many as a single dad, I was touched. The best moment was probably taking a photo of my girls and their cousins, aunts, and uncles with their great-grandfather during a summer cookout. The great-grandfather passed away soon after and that photo was the last one taken. It was special. He was surrounded by family in the photo, the moment captured as a testament to his enduring legacy. </div>
<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Llz52MafYHlZJ1KT5o9G5ylB5fbs6TbyM_Yp9Z2NtgnrGgWND0rwEIY6WR1C9E6xCHtNlEnJHo0RgqoreiiOJZo86qSSJcfdu2O7bISdLszh6qGfcqBVM-LjYLHPkgPLXzdA-WekJHQP/s1600/IMG_9870.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1044" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Llz52MafYHlZJ1KT5o9G5ylB5fbs6TbyM_Yp9Z2NtgnrGgWND0rwEIY6WR1C9E6xCHtNlEnJHo0RgqoreiiOJZo86qSSJcfdu2O7bISdLszh6qGfcqBVM-LjYLHPkgPLXzdA-WekJHQP/s320/IMG_9870.jpg" width="208" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I think in images. I read stories and a movie plays in my head. Stories intrigue me and a picture tells a story. The idea of stopping time, capturing it, being able to relive it through an image has always held a power over me.</div>
<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvT1HNyGNqHfK9DTeV82FePy5AALYiqDeh1EkAbvNoNpNTeY6N5RA8y9MSC-hGaA48Ue8CIcROb6vaaqN97o9maIBw7lccIsZy_3ETSi-m5-g64U4DEdK9JMiWLOwQKOX1PxmSWPjhudaD/s1600/IMG_9875.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvT1HNyGNqHfK9DTeV82FePy5AALYiqDeh1EkAbvNoNpNTeY6N5RA8y9MSC-hGaA48Ue8CIcROb6vaaqN97o9maIBw7lccIsZy_3ETSi-m5-g64U4DEdK9JMiWLOwQKOX1PxmSWPjhudaD/s320/IMG_9875.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I never seriously considered photography as a profession. I played. I took pics of my kids. I would take them to the professionals for the Christmas shots. I would buy the school photos. But I would still take several rolls of film a month. It was pricey, and I would burn through the point and shoot cameras every couple of years. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigAlfQcc_cf9B8F4WXa_kuKVRgXd4VlpcKZBGZE5CYSH55NR6CuBpbGBCumv_JrTOe_u1OTcgroQ-Zgf-4CYvgbDb-dxYs3g6feY0o9P6E39KLqMp093lH4JPbJnLJ_zd1Eea2JVdJxUfl/s1600/IMG_9871.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1043" data-original-width="1600" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigAlfQcc_cf9B8F4WXa_kuKVRgXd4VlpcKZBGZE5CYSH55NR6CuBpbGBCumv_JrTOe_u1OTcgroQ-Zgf-4CYvgbDb-dxYs3g6feY0o9P6E39KLqMp093lH4JPbJnLJ_zd1Eea2JVdJxUfl/s320/IMG_9871.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I got my first digital camera in 2008 as a gift. Since then, storage has been much easier. And I can snap to my heart’s content because the pictures don’t require developing unless I choose. Point and shoots have given way to smart phone technology and everyone now has a camera always with them. Social media encourages everyone to snap away. The storyteller in me thrills that the other storytellers in the world can fulfill that desire.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhomlWJ8NZnfMy3yIAJarXhhhLr9ShhUjSAxhdS2pr0gN3XUW35_R6AQUwskFPEQPv-ebcE50qP3hkZ7_8Pb41PgXd5nn0Y1CRTz4zU-vPRud4hg6hOghu-1n0Wk4bbp3NK4WlQaFSScxur/s1600/feb2011-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="293" data-original-width="362" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhomlWJ8NZnfMy3yIAJarXhhhLr9ShhUjSAxhdS2pr0gN3XUW35_R6AQUwskFPEQPv-ebcE50qP3hkZ7_8Pb41PgXd5nn0Y1CRTz4zU-vPRud4hg6hOghu-1n0Wk4bbp3NK4WlQaFSScxur/s320/feb2011-3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Eight years ago I received a DSLR as a present. It was used, but it has been an awesome teacher. I played. I learned. I’m still learning. I am just now really diving into the more technical aspects of digital photography. I want to take better photos, which means learning and growing and investing in my hobby more. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRPwEWqXLyjhPRoGs3u0ZM5uEgj_oUIcsj4Oh_u6bW5C6B-1xEuMGHI1z8HoqPR3fBAuvno5Qbbk5ltptaX6byE_Y7fBvRC8-mqh3HQ3GwYEiq21gSAEhPxMLSQ_IpxaGNQwRA-ULuElq9/s1600/feb2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="573" data-original-width="796" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRPwEWqXLyjhPRoGs3u0ZM5uEgj_oUIcsj4Oh_u6bW5C6B-1xEuMGHI1z8HoqPR3fBAuvno5Qbbk5ltptaX6byE_Y7fBvRC8-mqh3HQ3GwYEiq21gSAEhPxMLSQ_IpxaGNQwRA-ULuElq9/s320/feb2011.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Will I ever become a professional? Does it matter?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMM4Pqj_wFNWE-hMCcUZBHm7Ot0RoyOOS8BHoDsNktSmY-o9Wgpa1GJwH-EAXBXTphb4RshH5rcvOpaEoOALWqU9n9tk_pBIDnL3jnldW-H0Jp2gBA-asxF_aANkSCtKTpl-1k_va8aUzz/s1600/June2012-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="462" data-original-width="805" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMM4Pqj_wFNWE-hMCcUZBHm7Ot0RoyOOS8BHoDsNktSmY-o9Wgpa1GJwH-EAXBXTphb4RshH5rcvOpaEoOALWqU9n9tk_pBIDnL3jnldW-H0Jp2gBA-asxF_aANkSCtKTpl-1k_va8aUzz/s320/June2012-7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Honestly, I don’t take pictures for that reason. I take pictures because it fills a part of me. Perhaps the photos will never be more than mostly snapshots. Perhaps family holidays, daily moments, and the things that catch my eye will be the extent. Maybe helping the professionals shoot weddings and family sessions will be as far as I go. Or perhaps I will decide that I want more.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQXTLPkeJ0erxXgSq86K-NBttSV5FRT1uc5siyqLNw-5xDGOwi5OoJvdIx4JwnpibP7aejGh4F83_5cD_8SwcVIV1xkyKt9UyChSh-f8wvQNLqiTilkmMlgJV4aKECHlhESISmY88IGlT_/s1600/may2011-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="739" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQXTLPkeJ0erxXgSq86K-NBttSV5FRT1uc5siyqLNw-5xDGOwi5OoJvdIx4JwnpibP7aejGh4F83_5cD_8SwcVIV1xkyKt9UyChSh-f8wvQNLqiTilkmMlgJV4aKECHlhESISmY88IGlT_/s320/may2011-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The last couple of years have been transformational. I have been through some very hard times. There have been changes. My children have mostly all grown, leaving me with one daughter at home. I went back to college. I began to pursue things that I had set aside or didn’t have time for in having a large family. I began to rediscover the me that is more than the wife, the mom, the daughter, and the sister. I began to remember what makes me feel alive: Reading, writing, taking photos, and researching wherever my curiosity takes me. It’s been a journey of learning to follow my passions without comparing myself to others, of feeling good about the unique me instead of feeling like I don’t measure up. In the last few months God has shown me that the woman He created has a right to not always feel as if she is in a competition she didn’t enter, judged on talents and gifts that aren’t hers and coming up short. He has shown me that He created me to be enough, and if others can’t see it or put me down to build up themselves, the problem is with them.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNIoKBYKJivGOcGyJdW5HJxNbhoRsWt_-cjzHlYI2yoChwvLxih7zBUAlJBw7wbF2DYGHWfQjN0E0_1_JwZnu-eZib8IOR1Ziq8QOKQH0OSJedz9vZlaamobrjeWP9jUPIicy0ndrhMml4/s1600/DSC_0301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1600" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNIoKBYKJivGOcGyJdW5HJxNbhoRsWt_-cjzHlYI2yoChwvLxih7zBUAlJBw7wbF2DYGHWfQjN0E0_1_JwZnu-eZib8IOR1Ziq8QOKQH0OSJedz9vZlaamobrjeWP9jUPIicy0ndrhMml4/s320/DSC_0301.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Photography can be expensive, and hobbyists sometimes must decide how much to invest. I haven’t been able to invest much while homeschooling and having a large family. I have no regrets. My point and shoot cameras, cell phone cameras, and the DSLR that I worked inadequately still recorded a life that I loved. I didn’t have perfect composition. My lighting was often too dark. Many photos are full of red eyes and blurred by constant movement of children. But I have the look in my children’s faces when they opened their Christmas presents. I have the wonder of childhood as one daughter saw it snow the first time one season. I got the costumes in the plays. I took pictures of the firsts. I recorded the memories of daily living, the moments we easily forget. I have the great-grandparents meeting their great-grandchildren for the first time. I have pictures of the blizzards and storms, the blackout where we played cards in candlelight, the cookouts, the gardens, and even clothes flapping in the breeze on the clothesline. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhel6AycQvk5S2Dw0ur-erLtGxHeNf-qVTMrCnlzsaSfrR419xqbwVREKVc1c0uWlKwozMKFD7nFqvzygeSfSboNGgu9uKtRz03IhEWZ4k0X6SxDYFsWOWbQ5w7wj7cAF5IMaNcekDEqrep/s1600/DSC_0290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1600" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhel6AycQvk5S2Dw0ur-erLtGxHeNf-qVTMrCnlzsaSfrR419xqbwVREKVc1c0uWlKwozMKFD7nFqvzygeSfSboNGgu9uKtRz03IhEWZ4k0X6SxDYFsWOWbQ5w7wj7cAF5IMaNcekDEqrep/s320/DSC_0290.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We may have lacked finances often. We may have struggled in so many ways. But we had something special. Having two people reach out in the last couple months to tell me that we meant so much to them in the crazy years of five children in one home with friends and busyness and chaos; I see that my investment wasn’t in stuff, but in people. I recorded on cheap equipment, but I loved the journey. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBM508za5JCGARP3-s8SVp-LHWA7rjmfIzwrTnUBhKTQiDNvqqP2UFBngStaftF0ILz8ICt_5N8CPzFF-PlhETIpbnCK93xUiMyp0lGxvRpC7Dx4HAknp9mQBP33yAhPpMenOYDMrDZZNK/s1600/aug2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="644" data-original-width="960" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBM508za5JCGARP3-s8SVp-LHWA7rjmfIzwrTnUBhKTQiDNvqqP2UFBngStaftF0ILz8ICt_5N8CPzFF-PlhETIpbnCK93xUiMyp0lGxvRpC7Dx4HAknp9mQBP33yAhPpMenOYDMrDZZNK/s320/aug2012.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And I will keep recording the journey, seeing life through lenses and viewfinders. I have passed down my love of recording the journey and it thrills my heart. I get to see the little moments in the lives of my grandsons because my daughter is also a storyteller. There is nothing more beautiful than a good story.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAOu881YDoR-wDtjo-nqZc2ax7S-uFJSzbQZGbrMdxpJN41pNqnXUzHbWc8Z7S7L5mNkr2sRC4usFfcymWWZkAO-R6ZLEIVoyzyXn50e5eUzu__v6wwRzvNvvXsoqr9SStd6OaBH7RcsTB/s1600/DSC_0184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1600" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAOu881YDoR-wDtjo-nqZc2ax7S-uFJSzbQZGbrMdxpJN41pNqnXUzHbWc8Z7S7L5mNkr2sRC4usFfcymWWZkAO-R6ZLEIVoyzyXn50e5eUzu__v6wwRzvNvvXsoqr9SStd6OaBH7RcsTB/s320/DSC_0184.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-69125127629358169562018-10-20T21:46:00.004-07:002018-10-20T22:08:16.677-07:00Sharing My Christian Walk with the Baxters<h2 style="text-align: center;">
The Baxter Series</h2>
I still remember the day I checked out the first book in the Baxter series, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Redemption-Karen-Kingsbury-ebook/dp/B000FCK1BG/ref=sr_1_18?ie=UTF8&qid=1540096337&sr=8-18&keywords=redemption"><i>Redemption</i></a>, from the local public library. I had read<a href="https://www.amazon.com/One-Tuesday-Morning-11-Book-ebook/dp/B001EM0YIQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1540096400&sr=8-1&keywords=One+Tuesday+Morning"> <i>One Tuesday Morning</i></a> as my first <a href="https://www.karenkingsbury.com/">Karen Kingsbur</a>y book. I had been a Christian for only a short amount of time. Bookworm that I am, I had felt the conviction of God to change my reading choices. He wanted me to make some choices in my reading that would encourage and educate me about Him.<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIXQJzeyNiIsJjS3IYvcvLipurDZuk5l2aQOhG6mbWthHeXTjibrVUEQps6brFjH3-7tysfAmBJ6dqblLbnMJGhm0hGyQW11raebWrlBWTVEHnyq-Yu7Xqnlb_midCcJjHr922GZQ1H4Sh/s1600/redemptionseries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="230" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIXQJzeyNiIsJjS3IYvcvLipurDZuk5l2aQOhG6mbWthHeXTjibrVUEQps6brFjH3-7tysfAmBJ6dqblLbnMJGhm0hGyQW11raebWrlBWTVEHnyq-Yu7Xqnlb_midCcJjHr922GZQ1H4Sh/s320/redemptionseries.jpg" width="212" id="id_8c48_d6b6_9c57_c7b6" style="width: 212px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br>
I wasn't sure what to expect as I delved into the series. I knew it was a series, but at the time (2005), there were only five on the shelves. I devoured them, one after another, and entered the lives of the Baxter family.<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaLmR71XqdayopRCLaxbUSqmaQeucsjNpMydeNxHJEysZeLxuzLl82O5GZUm3fNZO9sn5Huy5G4S9PtkpYczLdi6o-IrHClvdeoIR3Mlw_SAiebX6lLUdRWezLtIHMGD6BM12RSjolFrtj/s1600/baxters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="293" data-original-width="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaLmR71XqdayopRCLaxbUSqmaQeucsjNpMydeNxHJEysZeLxuzLl82O5GZUm3fNZO9sn5Huy5G4S9PtkpYczLdi6o-IrHClvdeoIR3Mlw_SAiebX6lLUdRWezLtIHMGD6BM12RSjolFrtj/s1600/baxters.jpg" id="id_bda8_a35a_942f_3671" style="width: 178px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br>
They were so different from any family I had ever known. They were Christians. They were imperfect. The parents, Dr. John Baxter and his wife, Elizabeth, were wonderful. I so wanted to know them. Their children were young and flawed and I related to them so well. Brooke, Kari, Ashley, Luke, and Erin. I felt an affinity for this large family, despite our differences. Like them my family was a group of seven. Like the Baxters, we live in Indiana. Those snowy winters and hot, humid summers weren't a stretch to the imagination for me. I can see the corn fields out my window. Reading about a large, Christian family living in Indiana while trying to find my way as a new Christian with a large family living in Indiana... it was inspirational for me. In so many ways, the Baxters began to walk with me.<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVboatU8zHG1AunXMgz4lj55ifhecPpMY4jrDRM_SI6lTKCNSQpYjlHuS4kgVbslMVwJJamjapUdxreKLgpSZdCdRTPN9Cvy9fRw91MzfCwGhiOp5QZMAlw9QbwAUCg7meThS90Vwsnbi_/s1600/baxters2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVboatU8zHG1AunXMgz4lj55ifhecPpMY4jrDRM_SI6lTKCNSQpYjlHuS4kgVbslMVwJJamjapUdxreKLgpSZdCdRTPN9Cvy9fRw91MzfCwGhiOp5QZMAlw9QbwAUCg7meThS90Vwsnbi_/s1600/baxters2.jpg" id="id_a139_40f1_3296_f843" style="width: 218px; height: auto;"></a></div>
As I read the books, lived with these characters through the years, I grew with them. I grew in my faith and learned so many lessons, both in real life and in reading about their lives. I grew to feel like I knew the characters. The lessons from their lives felt so real to me, and often were as new to me as they were to the characters that learned them the hard way in the story-lines. I remember John Baxter praying for his kids as he looked at their senior pictures. At the time, I had two daughters in high school, and I remember thinking what an amazing idea that was, to pray for my kids when I saw their pictures.<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5AM9urHmhldk_k_egmQK6gb3v2-DsGhPgvEm0TrqQ5tdSS0TIMs_RWhOBJ-Vp61oUC-R3FIa63ocBV04r2kq9dYjBIi2mwq5KspXL-v302Jr4TPswslEWBQrAIGE_RSn-BxQq_ZCpfucf/s1600/baxters3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5AM9urHmhldk_k_egmQK6gb3v2-DsGhPgvEm0TrqQ5tdSS0TIMs_RWhOBJ-Vp61oUC-R3FIa63ocBV04r2kq9dYjBIi2mwq5KspXL-v302Jr4TPswslEWBQrAIGE_RSn-BxQq_ZCpfucf/s1600/baxters3.jpg" id="id_6727_8be1_2dc0_1fc0" style="width: 218px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br>
The cast of characters grew over the years. It was occasionally reduced also, and those moments were heartbreaking in ways I can't describe. And yet, even in the goodbyes there was hope and love and even, somehow, joy. I was shocked the first time that there wasn't a happy ending. We get so used to happy endings, and in Christianity, we tend to believe that God will fix everything the way we think He should. Life isn't always so neat and formulaic. In fact, many times, life is messy and very hard. God is not a predictable God that works on our timetable. His plans can be tough to understand. And,<a href="https://www.karenkingsbury.com/"> Karen Kingsbury </a>doesn't shy away from tough topics. She tackles the hard things, from terrorist attacks to the loss of a loved one.<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEyRpS5fPNPYlN0RkzxZhyMcClPB_eCTKVWUmD87eKyCSFh5m8IWtI3BDW1Agf748h8VXyFi5IoDpNNmOc7OmyK34tfIpwweBM1JCOM3UYP5164wpoSf-7-WEblbm17kk8KNDry6uwLB93/s1600/baxter9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEyRpS5fPNPYlN0RkzxZhyMcClPB_eCTKVWUmD87eKyCSFh5m8IWtI3BDW1Agf748h8VXyFi5IoDpNNmOc7OmyK34tfIpwweBM1JCOM3UYP5164wpoSf-7-WEblbm17kk8KNDry6uwLB93/s1600/baxter9.jpg" id="id_efa_fae6_c9ee_d0b0" style="width: 218px; height: auto;"></a></div>
The first time a main character didn't get a miracle, where there wasn't a happy ending, I was deeply grieved. It was like losing a member of my family. Little did I know that there would be other times of loss in the series that would take my breath and leave me wrung out emotionally, grieving as if I had really lost a member of my family. Of course, being a bookworm, I tend to get overly engrossed in the books, but I soon discovered that I wasn't the only one that felt an attachment to these characters. I introduced the books to so many others, and would gladly do so again. I even had two of my daughters read the first ones. Seeing those I introduce to the books get hooked, get emotional about the lives of the characters, proves to me that these books are powerful.<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidq7MnsOKZX0kanwWx0zKZfA2JeKrbxR1516E1O8xRUar8jMhmrO7TXFRwc9k4nAIxi2aXoBXG1NnIWPh8Z11yEwGk5oOKFlcm8h9DD5iHlTjMZS6btOepz-sKEMh1CDw6puXw9Gsup4i2/s1600/baxter8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidq7MnsOKZX0kanwWx0zKZfA2JeKrbxR1516E1O8xRUar8jMhmrO7TXFRwc9k4nAIxi2aXoBXG1NnIWPh8Z11yEwGk5oOKFlcm8h9DD5iHlTjMZS6btOepz-sKEMh1CDw6puXw9Gsup4i2/s1600/baxter8.jpg" id="id_1a2d_d614_aacb_fde9" style="width: 218px; height: auto;"></a></div>
The Baxter family, the Flanigan Family, and so many others in the book series have walked with me through my journey as a Christian. Every year or so a new book would come out, and the Baxters would come alive to me again. I felt as if I could drive to the Baxter home, have a cup of coffee with Ashley, see her paintings, and talk with her about marriage, raising children, and following Jesus. I even wanted to talk with her about being the black sheep of the family, as she was at first.<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcG4agUs8ejNhqkHd4nUpvzrMd6nIiZaxwndlqFYNj0C0SJff-hc8A7cGjI4zExjpVcGjgmgR14v13A-GdVFEuULQyVtQV1E9G3nNSq0MnX5SGyO_z64qN6163r8x2mvDaTJuEarPJI-mJ/s1600/baxter4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcG4agUs8ejNhqkHd4nUpvzrMd6nIiZaxwndlqFYNj0C0SJff-hc8A7cGjI4zExjpVcGjgmgR14v13A-GdVFEuULQyVtQV1E9G3nNSq0MnX5SGyO_z64qN6163r8x2mvDaTJuEarPJI-mJ/s1600/baxter4.jpg" id="id_8635_ce2_21ec_1be9" style="width: 218px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br>
I wish I could tell about all the coincidences that occurred while I read. My oldest left for college while I was reading <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Leaving-Bailey-Flanigan-Book-1-ebook/dp/B003U4UXXC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1540097629&sr=8-1&keywords=karen+kingsbury+leaving"><i>Leaving</i></a>. My family endured such a trying time for so long, and becoming Christians didn't take away the problems. I love that the Baxter family had real problems too. I like that they struggled with their faith, had deep doubts, and great sorrows. I like that they messed up. I like that they occasionally still struggle with the same issues that have come up in the past, but keep pushing forward in Christ. I like that they sometimes disagree, get on each other's nerves, and even have to overcome hurts and wounds. I like that it sometimes doesn't happen in a single book, that the happy endings glorify God, but so do the ones that aren't so happy.<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfRUIH6-FwX2SghJyWQt8jAa30s6-xdx7Zd2l2ra1rb1LL15gSe5jxiN5eP4ToJclJ7a4Y5gLTPqRHhyxj3IMWYwKr_5gupLyDnfl9oQnD8rWexCIgLomXu399yaNtPD8r2mJVAvENbRE0/s1600/baxter7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfRUIH6-FwX2SghJyWQt8jAa30s6-xdx7Zd2l2ra1rb1LL15gSe5jxiN5eP4ToJclJ7a4Y5gLTPqRHhyxj3IMWYwKr_5gupLyDnfl9oQnD8rWexCIgLomXu399yaNtPD8r2mJVAvENbRE0/s1600/baxter7.jpg" id="id_640a_babe_d5f2_8813" style="width: 218px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br>
The first book,<i> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Redemption-Karen-Kingsbury-ebook/dp/B000FCK1BG/ref=sr_1_18?ie=UTF8&qid=1540096337&sr=8-18&keywords=redemption">Redemption</a></i>, was published in 2002, but it was late 2005 or early 2006 before I read it. (I became a Christian in November 2005.) Now, sixteen years after they were first published, and twelve or thirteen years after I first met them, the Baxters still continue to touch lives. <a href="https://www.karenkingsbury.com/">Karen Kingsbury</a> still writes about them, though I am certain the plan was never to have thirty books in a series! I have read all except the newest one, and I will read it soon. Some made my heart soar with joy and hope. Others made me cry, heartbroken and devastated. Some were romantic. Some showed God's plans in ways we wouldn't have expected to see. Some were bittersweet. And yet, in each one, was a focus on Jesus. In each one was the theme of a grander story, the ultimate redemption of all our souls.<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3PexiuHVjSl9vHuBbgQ9vteQ346UGhBSs-pTiSglBYqQVCXbG_eds9XO9HF0q9ZsLucFn-BdJ20NQb6spnySSykvPq2Z0SwqZWOJAl1Zjoa_CT1p5t9aTv9BOyIrmuJ3i-3hu-MpV33LE/s1600/baxter6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3PexiuHVjSl9vHuBbgQ9vteQ346UGhBSs-pTiSglBYqQVCXbG_eds9XO9HF0q9ZsLucFn-BdJ20NQb6spnySSykvPq2Z0SwqZWOJAl1Zjoa_CT1p5t9aTv9BOyIrmuJ3i-3hu-MpV33LE/s1600/baxter6.jpg" id="id_f82e_1ca_f3ef_faca" style="width: 218px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br>
The Baxters are a legacy. The characters and their lives live on in millions of readers and Christians all over the world. We all will think a bit of the Prodigal son when we read of Luke's struggles in <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Return-Redemption-Book-Karen-Kingsbury-ebook/dp/B0046H9KKY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1540096475&sr=8-1&keywords=Return+Kingsbury">Return</a>.</i> We will all yearn for John to find the son he never got to meet, and rejoice when he does. We will all feel the glory of salvation when Dane finds Jesus. And happily ever after is not supposed to mean betrayal or birth defects or a drowning accident or cancer or life-altering tragedies. Through the years, millions of us have clung to this family, grieved with them, prayed with them, laughed with them, gotten angry with and at them, and learned with them. Most of all, we have grown closer to Jesus as we shared their lives.<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRaGixFbVNW-CTDEPSIUIemUQo3JRrmY2M6lD4x7Hlqn-mZzJYH9hONDA7-1GkQovY8hapMg2UjKhyphenhyphenZKMdGe9qZMPaYiJizvnCoTZFDy5Uuls5wM2AA02iI0DePNQZlBZGLsPZgEH3Utbm/s1600/baxter5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRaGixFbVNW-CTDEPSIUIemUQo3JRrmY2M6lD4x7Hlqn-mZzJYH9hONDA7-1GkQovY8hapMg2UjKhyphenhyphenZKMdGe9qZMPaYiJizvnCoTZFDy5Uuls5wM2AA02iI0DePNQZlBZGLsPZgEH3Utbm/s1600/baxter5.jpg" id="id_bedc_9e54_665b_b05b" style="width: 218px; height: auto;"></a></div>
<br>
The <a href="https://tvline.com/content/the-baxters-tv-series-trevor-donovan-interview/">Baxters series is being developed for television</a>. I look forward to that, but also carry the apprehension that every reader holds when the books he or she loves is adapted to film or television. We carry the images in our minds and hearts and fear that the portrayal won't be the same, no matter how talented the actors and actresses. However, letting the example and love of the Baxter family, which is full of the love of Jesus, reach out to those that haven't read the books makes the endeavor worthwhile.<br>
<br>
One day the last Baxter book will be published and written. The fans will have a difficult time letting them go. I know I will. I can only thank <a href="https://www.karenkingsbury.com/">Karen Kingsbury</a> for writing the series, because she has given me so many wonderful examples of faith. She has written stories that have taught me much, put me through an emotional roller coaster (and I loved it), and helped me draw closer to Jesus. She has given me encouragement in some tough times, and showed me that the story isn't over, even when the last chapter of the book is read, because Jesus isn't done.www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-81153826488423601732018-09-27T11:46:00.001-07:002018-09-27T11:48:24.314-07:00I Focus on What You See<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/>
<w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/>
<w:OverrideTableStyleHps/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="false"
DefSemiHidden="false" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="375">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="footnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="footer"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="index heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of figures"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="envelope address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="envelope return"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="footnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="line number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="page number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="endnote reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="endnote text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="table of authorities"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="macro"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="toa heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Bullet 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Number 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Closing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="List Continue 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Message Header"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Salutation"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Date"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text First Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Note Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Body Text Indent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Block Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="FollowedHyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Document Map"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Plain Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="E-mail Signature"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Top of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Bottom of Form"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal (Web)"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Acronym"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Address"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Cite"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Code"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Definition"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Keyboard"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Preformatted"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Sample"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Typewriter"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="HTML Variable"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Normal Table"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="annotation subject"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="No List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Outline List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Simple 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Classic 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Colorful 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Columns 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Grid 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table List 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table 3D effects 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Contemporary"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Elegant"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Professional"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Subtle 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Web 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Balloon Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Table Theme"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" QFormat="true"
Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" QFormat="true"
Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" QFormat="true"
Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" SemiHidden="true"
UnhideWhenUsed="true" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="41" Name="Plain Table 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="42" Name="Plain Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="43" Name="Plain Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="44" Name="Plain Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="45" Name="Plain Table 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="40" Name="Grid Table Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="Grid Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="Grid Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="Grid Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="Grid Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="Grid Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="Grid Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="Grid Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="Grid Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46" Name="List Table 1 Light"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51" Name="List Table 6 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52" Name="List Table 7 Colorful"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="46"
Name="List Table 1 Light Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="47" Name="List Table 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="48" Name="List Table 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="49" Name="List Table 4 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="50" Name="List Table 5 Dark Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="51"
Name="List Table 6 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="52"
Name="List Table 7 Colorful Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Mention"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Smart Hyperlink"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Hashtag"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" SemiHidden="true" UnhideWhenUsed="true"
Name="Unresolved Mention"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0in;
mso-para-margin-right:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:8.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0in;
line-height:200%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"><i> (The following is a poem written by me for my Creative Writing class. I don't often share my personal writing, but I enjoyed this process immensely and was encouraged to share publicly.)</i></span></span> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVRR9g0b1F_q61I3zUcD38p-YyI6Qx5oQHf-9__hATvxwUH8NASFIUhTQFoqQ9hT1pjB8TQTvgaaUKhC0WL-tbG6iJHh-9Q5OGP22fB-dIsH63QXvJNLtEbXGeo9zE0alVdP45n38eBgP/s1600/camera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="276" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVRR9g0b1F_q61I3zUcD38p-YyI6Qx5oQHf-9__hATvxwUH8NASFIUhTQFoqQ9hT1pjB8TQTvgaaUKhC0WL-tbG6iJHh-9Q5OGP22fB-dIsH63QXvJNLtEbXGeo9zE0alVdP45n38eBgP/s320/camera.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
do not feel the rush of wind as it tosses falling leaves. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
do not hear the grieving moan of the widow as she grieves.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">But
I see and can remember all that is in front of me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
stop time for a moment, a glimpse, a breath in your story.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">My
job is sometimes art, sometimes hobby, my voice is unheard.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Life
moves so fast that we can’t remember all that had occurred.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
sound almost violent when it is said I am used to shoot.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Each
‘shot’ I take is a thousand words; but I don’t speak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am mute.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
took those first, precious moments of your celebrated birth.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The
smiles of proud loved ones forever telling of your worth.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
saw the horrors of war, the images burned in real time.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">From
first tin-type to digital, from unique to paradigm.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">And
when I am picked up, I can be a weapon or a tool.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The
milestones, the laughter, treasured and guarded like a jewel.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
don’t decide where to focus, or if the image is posed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
don’t decide which secrets are the ones to be exposed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
can be manipulated, settings changed, altering the scene.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I’ve
seen a million sunsets, and ugh… another selfie queen.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The
last few years I’ve seen a lot of food I will never eat.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">A,
hello, cleavage central… Ladies, try to be more discreet.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The
best images are candid, ones that show a world that’s true.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">From
the tender to the gritty, from beautiful to the cruel,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Like
a thief, I steal the bounty of what won’t ever come again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">And
yet that makes my job more special, as you ‘remember when.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">My
best days are still ahead, as I’m hardly yet to my prime.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
took ten minutes to make an image in 1839.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Now,
in just a blink, I capture moments on high-tech smart-phones.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
am launched into the sky to see on satellites and drones.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">What
was once only an option for some once in awhile</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Is
now common; so don’t just portray a pretend lifestyle.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Use
me to capture special moments that take your breath away.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Let
me help you mark the journey as you travel day to day.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
may change and be replaced with more advanced technology, </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">but
I hold to the truth of the past without apology.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I
don’t feel or hear, taste or touch, but the images I see</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Help
you to do all thee above as you touch a memory. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-55675841586108801282018-09-13T22:40:00.001-07:002018-09-15T18:36:22.780-07:00The Choices That Define You<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj0HAO1UEp9bKHBGuXmtyAS0BmuETRl8nNajxj4FsAwdKaGJNNAdcV2hhE3M1HX41RjSq7MEa_tri8qkhbu7DP3iM1WgZwoI96OYwO_5YHxhpYD6XLQcWzatnBKNlLx-LB7ellJ5SkPNrb/s1600/deuteronomy3019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="258" data-original-width="195" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj0HAO1UEp9bKHBGuXmtyAS0BmuETRl8nNajxj4FsAwdKaGJNNAdcV2hhE3M1HX41RjSq7MEa_tri8qkhbu7DP3iM1WgZwoI96OYwO_5YHxhpYD6XLQcWzatnBKNlLx-LB7ellJ5SkPNrb/s320/deuteronomy3019.jpg" width="241" /></a></div>
Many times, as I go about my days, I sometimes think God tries to send me messages. Oh, he will often use His Word to speak to me. Or He will have a song that touches me at just the right moment. Sometimes He even uses other people to speak into my life. But, seeing as how I am a bookworm, He often uses the power of story.<br />
<br />
When the same thing is repeated, a theme or a message, in a short amount of time, it tends to grab my attention. I am awed at the ways God will speak to me. The last few months have been a struggle in my life, and I have taken some nasty hits to my faith and my confidence. God decided it was time to reveal some things to me, not to bring me down, but to bring peace and healing inside me, to fix things that I have avoided dealing with for a long time.<br />
<br />
Luckily, even in the times of struggle and frustration and discouragement, His voice doesn't leave us. He doesn't leave us. The last few days have held wonderful gifts for me, that I didn't expect.<br />
<br />
First, in reading<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Book-Girl-Journey-Treasures-Transforming/dp/1496425804/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1536901466&sr=8-3&keywords=Book+Girl"> <i>Book Girl</i></a> by Sarah Clarkson the other day, I was engrossed in a story she told about a tough time in her life. She was discouraged and struggling, feeling powerless. That's a scary place to be. The world feels like it is crashing in, you are wounded and a bit lost, and you just want to quit. You want to quit trying. You want to quit hoping, as disappointment has shrouded you so often and for what feels like such a long time.<br />
<br />
She encountered <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Lord-Rings-50th-Anniversary-Vol/dp/0618640150/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1536901563&sr=8-2&keywords=Lord+of+the+Rings+books">Lord of the Rings</a>, </i>and the messages in the story, the words craftily written long before she was born, helped change her perspective and give her strength. She made the decision to turn back to God, despite the obstacles she faced. She knew it wasn't going to be easy. But, she felt it was a choice, and she wanted to make that choice in her story. She learned that she wanted to be a part of something much more beautiful and bigger than herself, and the narrative of God has given her a role.<br />
<br />
Today, I was reading <i>Where There's Hope</i> by Elizabeth Smart. She writes in the beginning of the book about choice. After being kidnapped and experiencing a nightmare for nine months, she was rescued and got to go home. She now speaks to women around the country, and one of the things she talks about is choice. We all have trials. She writes, "I'm not suggesting that once you make the choice to move forward, your problems disappear, but making that choice is the first step down that path."<br />
<br />
In just a couple days, I was reading about women that had made a choice to not let their struggles keep them down. In essence, they were determined to live out what God had for them, despite the things that had brought them to a place where they could have given up.<br />
<br />
But then there was more...<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Book-Girl-Journey-Treasures-Transforming/dp/1496425804/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1536901466&sr=8-3&keywords=Book+Girl">Sarah Clarkson</a>, while reading <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Fellowship-Ring-Being-First-Rings/dp/0547928211/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1536901770&sr=8-1&keywords=The+Fellowship+of+the+ring"><i>The Fellowship of the Ring, </i></a>came across the quote, "What must I do with the time given to me?"<br />
<br />
She realized that she must fight bitterness and resist hopelessness.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Where-Theres-Hope-Healing-Forward/dp/1250115523/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1536901607&sr=8-1&keywords=Where+There%27s+Hope">Elizabeth Smart </a>continued the quote above by saying, "We are so often worried that we will be defined by what happens to us, and yet, that sometimes happens - when we let it. But it's important to remember that you are not defined by what happens to you. You are defined by the choices you make after."<br />
<br />
The trials and tough times that have brought me to my knees countless times and left me empty in such a deep, dark way have had consequences that I struggle to this day to accept. In so many ways, I miss what used to be. The emptiness from what was and no longer is lingers in my core, even as I try to fill it with the Lord and good things, such as reading to my child or working diligently in my college classes. <br />
<br />
I miss the passion in my husband's voice when God placed something in his heart or revealed something in Scripture. I miss the security of knowing that we shared the same vision for our lives. I miss his presence beside me as he prayed with me. We went through so much, and watched God do so much, things that we were told were impossible. Is he just struggling? Is he discouraged and disillusioned? Can I blame him, really?<br />
<br />
I miss my daughter. Yes, I respect her right to make her own choices as an adult. After the health battles that nearly cost her life over and over, and then the stress of the last couple of years, she deserves to make a fresh start. But... I still miss her.<br />
<br />
The things I miss... I can't change. Like the Serenity Prayer says, "God grant me the wisdom to accept the things I cannot change." Missing what was in the past doesn't mean that everything was perfect then, just that it feels as if a lot has been lost. The cost, sometimes, of other people's choices and actions can be very high. Like Elizabeth Smart said, however, "You are not defined by what happens to you..." The choices I make now are what will define me.<br />
<br />
Henry David Thoreau said, "The question is not what you look at, but what you see." I can continue to look at the things that were and have changed, or I can look at the now and place my trust and future once again back in His very capable hands. He is not surprised by all that has happened. He is not shocked. He still has a plan, even when it all feels like climbing a mountain in a mudslide. <br />
<br />
I wasn't the only one that has faced tough times and trials, that has had to look honestly at my past, both at my choices and the choices made by others. I'm not the only one that had cried rivers of tears, grieved deeply, been overwhelmed, and wished there was a way to fix all that went wrong. But of course, sometimes my efforts to fix things make them worse. Sometimes, God has to work things out in His way and in His timing. <br />
<br />
Even more, I have learned that this is simply a chapter in the story. Yes, the challenges have been tough and possibly have changed me forever. But, there have been lessons also, and revelations that God has given me. <br />
<br />
I ask myself, what will I do with the time given me? What choices will I make from this point that will define me? Will I love well? Will I value the person God created me? Will I choose to hope? Will I choose to keep going, even when faced with tough times, no matter what?<br />
<br />
I am determined to do so.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-21203218890644603672018-09-08T20:09:00.002-07:002018-09-08T20:18:13.178-07:00Reading Books about the Reading Life<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifFp1gLKpV90BE7dKZ_1_HJrbo5cnPjNSrA1h3yxTe3kjtxEKl0mXT1-036mdpGyaFQffIjya7eueFVgfvqf9Z_gAEZCw91yxz7hfNsx2FzYLpm3Z-9gLeCMDMbf8TMyZUU-_x5TKX2NTb/s1600/book1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="177" data-original-width="284" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifFp1gLKpV90BE7dKZ_1_HJrbo5cnPjNSrA1h3yxTe3kjtxEKl0mXT1-036mdpGyaFQffIjya7eueFVgfvqf9Z_gAEZCw91yxz7hfNsx2FzYLpm3Z-9gLeCMDMbf8TMyZUU-_x5TKX2NTb/s320/book1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I am reading two books this week that have to do with living an book-centered life. In other words, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Book-Girl-Journey-Treasures-Transforming/dp/1496425804/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1536456324&sr=8-3&keywords=Book+Girl"><i>I'm a Book Girl</i></a> because <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Id-Rather-Be-Reading-Delights/dp/0801072921/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1536462173&sr=8-1&keywords=I%27d+rather+be+reading"><i>I'd Rather Be Readin</i>g</a>!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYPb5f39wavWI5q2ck6k6ALDJwkLO2D2Pj1RohktV8JJZ_X0SOv32CM6Yi9PEWbj2zbB2I0TVrDbEl7jeUEdybcASDFtoJC47B8Q4zCvPfslyIjPXg5mA_lfnZmL1Bi05K3veRGcu-_ffH/s1600/book2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="183" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYPb5f39wavWI5q2ck6k6ALDJwkLO2D2Pj1RohktV8JJZ_X0SOv32CM6Yi9PEWbj2zbB2I0TVrDbEl7jeUEdybcASDFtoJC47B8Q4zCvPfslyIjPXg5mA_lfnZmL1Bi05K3veRGcu-_ffH/s320/book2.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_jZaJpMkpvWZQCkHEVua_tbt0_87UVobdzUMMHlTqzkjCX_yZ1y8YCV8jQirzpIA4g-W-JhIaWZUpqDfN4N-8ymi2ZVgC0Fy4StLaigaSOJnq1k-iJskDe1fqzgW_gqd-cO_s0FX163_-/s1600/book1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_jZaJpMkpvWZQCkHEVua_tbt0_87UVobdzUMMHlTqzkjCX_yZ1y8YCV8jQirzpIA4g-W-JhIaWZUpqDfN4N-8ymi2ZVgC0Fy4StLaigaSOJnq1k-iJskDe1fqzgW_gqd-cO_s0FX163_-/s320/book1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Sarah Clarkson and Anne Bogel both so elegantly and beautifully describe the reading life. Any woman that had delved deep into the beauty of reading, the wondrous reality of living multiple lives, the visitation of places I many never physically travel to see, the myriad of people that I may never met but feel as if I know and love... this is a blessed life.<br />
<br />
There are many in my life that aren't readers, or perhaps they don't read voraciously. I always wonder if they know what they are missing, but the truth is that I am certain that areas that fulfill and inspire them give them a similar curiosity about others that don't share their passion. My husband is a musician, and I sometimes wonder if he looks at his non-instrument playing wife and thinks that if I just picked up an instrument, I would understand.<br />
<br />
I sometimes think how sad it is that non-readers can be content with one life. Readers experience hundreds. I can understand those that are obsessed with story told a different way, such as through film. I get that perhaps reading isn't their thing, but story still touches a part of them deep inside. I think story touches us all in some way, or it wouldn't be such a powerful medium. The news wouldn't have many watchers if no one wanted to know that inside scoop. The blockbuster movies wouldn't be worth the investment of millions or billions of dollars if there wasn't people that wanted to see the story... on a bigger than life screen. And the New York Times Bestseller List would not exist if people weren't drawn to the stories that cause them to want to snuggle on the couch or sit on a park bench in the warmth of the sun and escape into a different reality.<br />
<br />
Story drives us. It gives our lives meaning, as we think about our lives as a story. The child that died too soon lives on in the hearts of parents and in the stories that made up his or her short life. In the Christian faith, the Bible encourages us to share our testimonies (Revelation 12:11). Why? Because the stories of what God had done in our lives is powerful. It is inspirational.<br />
<br />
No matter how often I write about the importance of reading, I always still feel an urge deep inside to talk more, to write more. My desire is to see our nation once again be a <a href="http://homemissionfield.blogspot.com/2018/01/a-literate-nation.html">A Literate Nation</a>. I see quality literature as such an encouragement for Christians, and believe that <a href="http://homemissionfield.blogspot.com/2018/01/why-christians-need-story.html">Christians Need Story</a>, need to redeem the art and create such intriguing plots and deep characters that even non-Christians will want to read the works. I believe that quality literature can <a href="http://homemissionfield.blogspot.com/2018/02/redeem-day-with-story.html">Redeem the Day</a> when it has not gone well, and possibly teach lessons to young and old alike in a way that is relatable on a much deeper level than an sermon.<br />
<br />
I honestly feel like reading has saved my life. There are the countless times that books find me just as I need them, just as I am enduring a struggle and a book comes into my world that changes my perspective or encourages me or lightens my world. That has happened too many times to be a coincidence. But, without books, without the characters that have walked certain paths with me, I don't know if I would have made it through some dark periods in my life.<br />
<br />
As a child, I didn't have many friends. I would make friends, but eventually I would move and have to leave them. There was very little stability in my childhood and teen years. I never realized just how much it impacted me until I was older. After all, it was what I knew. I saw that others had different lives, that didn't move every year or two, that had friends "since kindergarten." That was not me. I moved eight times before I turned eighteen. I went to four high schools in four years. It was a special kind of isolation, always being the new girl, never allowed to keep friends.<br />
<br />
I turned to books and to writing. I first, in elementary, met the Ingalls family and the Woodlawn family. Laura Ingalls Wilder was my friend. I devoured her books, over and over. I kept thinking that <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Long-Winter-Little-House/dp/0064400069/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1536458449&sr=8-1&keywords=The+Long+Winter"><i>The Long Winter</i></a> was atrocious, but I would so rather be in the Ingalls kitchen, starving as the bread flour diminished more and more and the blizzards kept blowing across the open prairie, than move one more time. Caddie and I, in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Caddie-Woodlawn-Carol-Ryrie-Brink-ebook/dp/B007MB5CEE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1536458579&sr=8-1&keywords=Caddie+Woodlawn"><i>Caddie Woodlawn</i></a>, were tomboys together. At the end of the novel where she got a painful lesson and wanted to embrace being a girl, I was right there with her, wanting to make the changes with her.<br />
<br />
In middle and high school, I became friends with Elizabeth and Jessica, the identical twins in<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Sweet-Valley-High-Books-1-12-ebook/dp/B016IDMKXW/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1536458640&sr=8-2&keywords=Sweet+Valley+High"><i> Sweet Valley High.</i> </a>I struggled to make friends, moving so often. Eventually, I didn't even want to try very much to make friends and fit in because I knew that I would just end up having to leave them anyway. It broke my heart every time. But Elizabeth and Jessica and their friends and their family in these sweet little books wouldn't abandon me. They were there to stay. I wouldn't have to leave them. Even if I had to leave them, I could rest assured that the next town or school library would have them available. I clung to them, even when the reading level was way too easy. I clung to them even when peers in my class would laugh at and mock me for reading those "kiddie" books. Why? Because they were stable. They were there for me, with their adventures and deep-down love for each other. Their family did things my family rarely did, like go out to eat and go to the movies. When I read, I felt for a brief time, as if I belonged.<br />
<br />
School was a nightmare for me. Academically, I did okay, which is a surprise with all the moving. Emotionally, I was scarred from the bullying and rejection. Perhaps that is one of the reasons that I believe homeschooling is such a blessing, because I hated the environment of school... and I had been in several.<br />
<br />
Books were my refuge. I remember checking out <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Little-Women-Louisa-May-Alcott/dp/1503280292/ref=sr_1_1_sspa?ie=UTF8&qid=1536459157&sr=8-1-spons&keywords=Little+Women&psc=1"><i>Little Women</i></a> for the first time, and falling in love with Jo. And then I met Anne Shirley in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Green-Gables-Black-White-Classics/dp/1503214133/ref=sr_1_1_sspa?ie=UTF8&qid=1536459336&sr=8-1-spons&keywords=Anne+of+Green+Gables&psc=1"><i>Anne of Green Gables</i></a>. Suddenly, I read about having a bosom friend, and felt as if she was one for me. We both hated our hair, her the red and me the frizzy curls. We both felt misunderstood. We both had a temper. It was love.<br />
<br />
What would I have done without the characters in books to be there for me? Would the constant moving, the instability, the rejection and loss... would all that have left me at the end of any hope? Would I have become full of rage? Would I have become suicidal? I was so lonely, so desperately wanting to be loved and validated, and I didn't have that from the people around me. I experienced glimpses of that love and validation and warm family atmosphere in the firelight of a cabin, listening to Pa play the fiddle. I found it as I journeyed with Laura into teaching, living away from my family for the first time, saving money to help pay for my sister to attend the school for the blind. I found it as I bullied Clara, and was severely reprimanded by my mother, only to be given understanding by a tender father that, in real life, I had not known. For a brief moment, I knew what it was to feel unconditional love and gentle guidance. It had been missing from my life. <br />
<br />
I found comraderie when a boy called me "Carrots" and I broke a slate over his head. Well, it happened to Anne, but at that moment, I understood her. I understood how it felt to feel mocked and made fun of at a new school, as the new girl. The next time I was teased for my crazy curly hair, I thought of that moment. I never broke a slate over anyone's head, but I held my head high and walked on. And when I cut my hair and it looked bad, I remember the horror of when Anne died her hair green, and having to live with the consequences.<br />
<br />
I met friends that understood the big and small things, and I met them in the pages of books. <br />
<br />
As I read Sarah Clarkson's words about how books were so foundational in her life, or listen on <a href="https://www.audible.com/">Audible</a> to Anne Bogel talking about growing up as a reader and how it impacted the woman she would become, I appreciate each woman's encouragement and validation that books mean just as much to them as they do to me, that the characters and places helped form them as they did me. It is as if only other readers can "get it." I can't imagine my life without books because I feel in many ways they "saved" me. Reading two books at the same time about living a book-centered life, to me, feels like making friends with women I don't know and may never meet in person. They "get" me and "get" it, when it comes to reading. For that, I am so thankful. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-4125712108663813532018-09-05T11:14:00.000-07:002018-09-05T11:14:03.560-07:00A Quiet Life<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b><span class="text 1Thess-4-11" id="en-NLT-29575"><sup class="versenum">11 </sup>Make it your goal to live a quiet life, minding your own business and working with your hands, just as we instructed you before.</span> </b></i></span><span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b><sup class="versenum">12 </sup>Then people who are not believers will respect the way you live, and you will not need to depend on others. 1 Thessalonians 4:11-12</b></i></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFSiYwfw_u2yfYRQ8bEuafg7nzaf4hSkEIyTrkA7bFNg2QopK3pVN8x5myrKnbkiMB4kOVmdz6tn9C-lR7nr0ZWDl2guodGSlgJ6BuapHMgTrxOF7O-fzWFYiBfwsII4oBzBQI85P0Z79j/s1600/quiet.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="711" data-original-width="1600" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFSiYwfw_u2yfYRQ8bEuafg7nzaf4hSkEIyTrkA7bFNg2QopK3pVN8x5myrKnbkiMB4kOVmdz6tn9C-lR7nr0ZWDl2guodGSlgJ6BuapHMgTrxOF7O-fzWFYiBfwsII4oBzBQI85P0Z79j/s320/quiet.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">My Grandmother was a quiet lady. She had a quiet faith. She was plain about what she believed, but she was the kindest lady I've ever known. Her faith was blatant, a part of her, but she didn't use it as a weapon to hurt others. When she was upset with someone, she didn't tell them or others that they weren't "real" Christians. She was humble, knowing she was flawed in her own self, and depending on God to change her heart. Her prayer list showed that she did many of her battles on her knees. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">She was human and made mistakes, but her love for Jesus was clear. She would be sad about some of the circumstances that have arisen in our family over the last few months. She would, perhaps, not agree with my decisions. But she would love me anyway, and she would pray. That is most important. I always knew she was praying for me.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">In this age of flashy, of collecting likes, shares, and people on social media, it seems strange to think of a quiet life. And yet, the Bible is clear that we should make it a goal. Why? Perhaps it is because, like the example set by my grandmother, a quiet life of faith is one that is steady, not dependent upon the ups and downs of circumstances. A quiet life is one that finds its strength in God, not in how many people agree with my lifestyle. A quiet life is counter of what is popular today.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">I understand loud. I have five daughters, and when they were younger, quiet was not something that happened often. I would love the late evenings, when they were all finally in bed, and I could have a few moments of quiet. Even today, when the family goes to bed, I take a bath and read and embrace the quiet. My girls are nearly all grown now. When we all get together, it isn't quiet. It is full of laughter and talking and even some healthy debates. No, it isn't quiet. But the chaos is time together, enjoyed and full of love. This loud is loud from external, and not the same as the loud that I think God speaks against. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">That is not the same kind of loud as the loud life that comes from inside. A loud life is full of noise, but it is also full of striving and desperation and wounds and ups and downs. It's full of fears and anger. The loud life is sometimes loud within, from within relationships to within the heart and mind. I've lived the loud life. I've had enough drama to last five lifetimes. While I can't control the actions of other people, I don't want my heart and mind to be full of noise and chaos, causing health issues. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">I much prefer the quiet life, quiet inside, resting in Jesus, feeling His presence, grateful for my blessings. There are many reasons, I am certain, that the Bible encourages us to make a quiet life a goal. One of those reasons is so that I don't have to depend on others (verse 12). While I am sure that working steadily brings about a financial security, I personally believe there is much more in this verse. I think a quiet life, with a steady quiet faith, leads to reliance on Jesus, for acceptance and validation and fulfillment, not relying on other people that often can't give to you what you need because they are desperately seeking it themselves. </span></span></span><br />
<span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">A quiet life has become my goal. It was a goal that God stated clearly in His Word we should strive to achieve. Deep breath.... I can do this... I can close my eyes, breathe in His presence, and thank Him for my blessings. I can give myself a break, that wounded, loud girl within. I can give her the grace and mercy that she needs while she lets go of hurts, heals wounds, learns to set boundaries, and forgives herself for seeking from other people what only God can give. I can give that girl a lot of love and time, because she needs it, because God loves her, and because, despite the loud in her overthinking mind, she didn't deserve to be treated as disposable.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">So many times a quiet life seems boring. My goals are still there. I still have dreams. But instead of a desperate need to fill a bucket before life is over, it is more like a journey. I don't have to strive so hard to get, get, get. I don't have to fill my life with background noise. I just have to keep steady, work diligently, and understand that the quiet life is like a good book. Yes, there are plot twists. There are chapters that fill you with joy and laughter. There are chapters where the tears flow from heartbreak and despair. God is a master storyteller. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Quiet isn't boring. It is peaceful. And, as I sit beside my daughter, reading her a chapter of the read-aloud we are sharing, or making dinner for my family, or sitting in the evening with a cup of coffee and a good book, the quiet life seems much bigger than the loud life, because it opens up such a large space in my heart and mind. Perhaps this is the season I am in now, where I am done striving and feeling desperate. Perhaps I am tired of the tension and strife that comes from unhealthy relationships where I change myself over and over to be accepted and validated and respected, and failing miserably over and over. I just can't do that anymore.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span class="text 1Thess-4-12" id="en-NLT-29576"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">My heroes aren't the movie stars that seek fame and personal glory. My heroes are the beautiful women that loved me and pursued me, steady in their love, faithful to God. My dream romance isn't the man that makes millions and can sweep me off my feet. My dream romance is the husband that works steadily to provide for his family, that comes home to me and his children every night, that holds my hand as we drive down the street, and teases me about my curls trapping his fingers as he brushes the stray tendrils from my face before leaning down for a sweet kiss. I have that in reality.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I'm not ambitious anymore. I have seen the sneaky bondage of ambition, the selfish motives people often use in the name of God. I long to be genuine, to have roots that grow deep in God. The thing about roots that most people don't consider is that roots are unseen. They are hidden. They bring steadiness and strength to the plant, to what is seen, but they aren't noticed unless they are dug up. I was always surprised, when gardening, just how deep the roots were and how strong they became. It took a lot of work to dig up a well-rooted plant. That is what I long for... being well-rooted. When the storms come, when others try to rip up my life, it will fail because my roots are deep and strong and stable. They grew that way in the unseen, in the steady, in the quiet. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
My heart over the last few years has changed. Give me the quiet life.www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-16530239057422375182018-09-04T11:35:00.000-07:002018-09-04T11:35:04.553-07:00Gifts Differing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsq_zlcTLUwtcecz176azBw4r_dsGcYhAU7bhypBmtUdOvBQxNZA66TdUeaBZRWm6nwFrRk2Op5nPLpw0MFlgYf5WALZnPuWkN-r0S4UpcNCWyh5suqsqHkU_pmfAZDkNo6x51tbetP4PY/s1600/writing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="268" data-original-width="188" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsq_zlcTLUwtcecz176azBw4r_dsGcYhAU7bhypBmtUdOvBQxNZA66TdUeaBZRWm6nwFrRk2Op5nPLpw0MFlgYf5WALZnPuWkN-r0S4UpcNCWyh5suqsqHkU_pmfAZDkNo6x51tbetP4PY/s320/writing.jpg" width="224" /></a></div>
We all have God-inspired gifts. This has circled around in my busy mind often over the last couple of years. Too often in this world certain gifts are given a higher status than others. Perhaps this is unintentional. Perhaps this is simply a matter of differing personalities. There is a cliche that seems to ring true about the innate gifts bestowed by God: "The squeaky wheel gets the grease."<br />
<br />
Our gifts will often come naturally in our lives. Practice will sharpen and hone skills. To practice the gifts and talents that God has placed in our lives is to show Him we are good stewards of what He has given us. This is just as important as being a good steward of our finances. Our gifts and talents - and we all have them - are given to us to enable us to fulfill our role in the body of Christ.<br />
<br />
Our gifts are not about us. They may fulfill us in countless ways. They may be useful tools to help us make a living and/or inspire others. They may even bring us attention, but they are not about us. The gifts we have inside of us are about what Jesus would have us do on this little planet HE loves so dearly, for His glory, not our own.<br />
<br />
It is dishonoring to Him to want someone else's gifts and talents. It happens all the time... that insidious treachery... envy. We see someone else's gifts, perhaps the gifts that routinely gain attention and validation, and it can feel as if our own gifts are not as valuable because they aren't so public or so extroverted. And yet, that is insulting to God. It is insulting to look lowly upon our own gifts. Not all gifts are ones that gain attention or accumulate likes and shares on social media.<br />
<br />
It sneaks up on us, this devaluing of our own talents and gifts. Perhaps it is the sin of this world that tells us that what is inside of us doesn't measure up to what others display. Maybe it is the wrong people in our lives have been allowed to be too loud in our minds, crowding out the voice of God that says the gifts He gave us are worthy and valuable and part of His plan. Perhaps it is our own view of the world, where we see that those squeaky wheels never seem to have enough grease, and instead of ignoring the sound, the world feeds the squeaky wheel continuously, forgetting that a little grease would help all the wheels. Encouragement is quite different than praise. Everyone needs encouragement occasionally.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, we have to grease our own wheels. This isn't to say that we have to seek validation from others or be vain and self-serving. It simply means that neglecting to take care of the gifts inside of us is not being a good steward of God's gifts. Sometimes we call this self-care. Sometimes we call this being true to who we are.<br />
<br />
I have been reading a book series to my eleven-year old daughter called The Penderwicks. The series' main characters are a group of four sisters; Rosalind, Skye, Jane, and Batty (Elizabeth). These sisters are very different from each other. They have different personalities and different gifts. Being raised by a single father for the first part of the series (until he remarries), because their mother died from cancer, the girls are very close to each other. Their differences may bring about conflict occasionally, but they are each celebrated as the individuals they are, with their different gifts and talents. One talent isn't placed above another. The science and math loving Skye is very different from the creative, imaginative Jane. The leadership of the oldest, Rosalind, is not more or less than the musical Batty. In this way, this series for children sets an example where gifts differing is shown to be a beautiful thing to be celebrated.<br />
<br />
I often feel that I am not certain how I feel about something until I write about it. The act of writing engages a part of my brain and heart that allows me to evaluate and put order to the chaotic ramblings that often occur in my mind. If I want to escape the world for awhile, I will read. If I want to make sense of my world, I will write. That has been true since I was a child, as the mountain of half-filled journals can attest.<br />
<br />
I almost quit writing. It is like trying to quit breathing. I felt I was suffocating. So I would write, but not share any of it. I would write blog posts I never published. I would journal through my tears, as I dealt with difficult times and deep wounds. The truth is that writing is essential for me in processing life. I will always write, because that is how I am wired. It is also a means of expression that contains much rejection when shared publicly, as someone can always look at what is shared from the heart, even when shared with the best of intentions, and crush cruelly.<br />
<br />
But God... right?<br />
<br />
I pray I never do that... diminish someone else's gifts and talents because they differ from mine. I know that opinions vary, but I see a lot of people crushing others instead of building and encouraging them to use their gifts, to walk in them, humbly and for God, not for self-seeking motives. There isn't a limited supply of blessings that can only be doled out to a few. There isn't a small, measurable stash somewhere that says that if one person does well in an area, it takes away from us. That isn't how God works. When He is honored and glorified, He multiplies. This is why, as followers of Jesus, we never have to fight for position or live in envy as the rest of the world does on a normal basis. We can be secure that what God has given us, the gifts He bestowed on us and wants us to use to show His love in the world, He won't waste. There is a security in knowing that He has us and we are a part of His plan, from the circumstances we go through to the gifts He doles out. There is a plan. <br />
<br />
A couple months ago on a Wednesday evening at church, my pastor handed out a test. After a couple jokes about being exposed to a pop-quiz, the results were comforting. It was a Spiritual Gifts Inventory. My pastor stated emphatically that, though the numbers of how big the gifts we have may change throughout our lives, depending on where we are and what we are dealing with at those times, the actual gifts will stay the same. My top three were knowledge, writing, and teaching. As a teacher, there are times when that gift has come front and center. When my curiosity is demanding answers, my love of research will kick in and add to my knowledge. And, as a natural extension of my being, I will write. I will write what I have learned. I will write what I feel. I will write to make sense of my world. I will write to calm my heart. I will write as a way to teach. <br />
<br />
God has used a couple people to encourage me lately in delving deeper into my writing, to find ways to use what is inside me for His purposes. Building up others is tricky, because I want to come from a place of sincerity. No one needs false or fake anything, and I am terrible at portraying anything that isn't genuine. As I pray about how to use my gifts for this purpose, the weight of responsibility is sobering. Certainly, I am in the midst of many roles, and wish to balance them well. That isn't unique to any of us as we all have day planners filled with responsibilities. That doesn't mean that we are given a free pass from God when it comes to obedience and using well what He has placed in us. <br />
<br />
The gifts inside of us may differ, but God has a purpose for each one. His purposes aren't trivial. They are essential to what He wants to do and achieve in this world before He comes back. When we don't utilize those gifts, or when we try to use gifts that have been placed in others, we hinder what God wants to do in our lives. Imagine if the church, meaning the group of believers that make up the body of Christ, was encouraged in discovering and helping the individual gifts of each believer and then they walked in those gifts for the glory of God. There would be no distinction for the Christian between secular and sacred, as we would be doing all for the Lord in every area of our lives. www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-55828541659140587372018-06-09T10:01:00.001-07:002018-06-09T10:32:54.021-07:00 Parallels of Physical and Mental Battles<br><br><img id="id_3ecb_5499_1034_8368" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-RmnelaZTruk/WxwH1K5hATI/AAAAAAAAsgw/jFMAnlX8wqAzcd618j5VANjPHIcar0t9ACHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br> <div>Four years ago my daughter had a routine surgery that turned into a nightmare. Every day since has been a struggle to survive. She improved for awhile, but then everything seemed to get worse. She is still struggling each day. </div><div><br></div><div>Suicide has been a big topic on the news and locally lately. Two celebrities committed suicide within a couple days. A young man committed suicide in our town. Suicide is a brutal topic. It has touched the lives of people we know and love. It is a topic in which we should all feel compassion considering it deals with depression, anxiety, and hopelessness. </div><div><br></div><div>My daughter deals with these feelings. She isn’t suicidal, but when facing days filled with pain and nausea and pills and needles, it can get overwhelming. When panic attacks hit for no reason except a body out of control, unable to even adjust its own hormone levels appropriately, she copes the best she can and uses medication to help. When the illnesses are causing severe pain and she struggles to make it through the day, she takes medicine and often has to lay down and rest.</div><div><br></div><div>Reading and hearing about the suicides, often in people with healthy bodies, I am saddened and a little angry. I feel as if so many don’t know what a gift they have if they have health. </div><div><br></div><div>But last night, watching my daughter struggle with overwhelming nausea and illness, I felt the impact of the fight many people struggle with in their minds. </div><div><br></div><div>The Bible alludes to the battle in the mind. It talks in Romans 12:2 about the importance of renewing our minds. The rise in depression, anxiety, and suicide has so many causes. I have no doubt that the foods we eat and the environments that surround us play in to the health of the mind. That is the key, however... health.</div><div><br></div><div>Watching my daughter, I caught parallels between her battle to regain health and those that have battles in their minds that many of us don’t understand. Everyone has times where they struggle with depression. Anxiety disorders have risen in my family, possibly in correlation to autoimmune diseases that have also risen where hormones are impacted. Physical health and mental health are intertwined many times. But those that battle with issues in their mind that lead to suicide, their battle is not unlike what my daughter faces physically. </div><div><br></div><div>My daughter often struggles to make it through a day. She pretends to be okay much more often than people realize. She finds the little things that she can to help her cope. She enjoys working with teenagers at our church, even though it is not always physically easy. She makes herself push through days until pain and nausea overtake her and she is sick. At those points she is often hospitalized so that doctors and nurses can give her fluids and try to get her back on her feet. She sees specialists, most of whom are in no hurry to treat her. She is told tests are urgent, but the next day told the soonest they can occur is months down the road. She has been treated by some professionals as if she just isn’t taking care of herself. Some people have walked out of her life, unable to handle the reality of chronic illnesses. Others have surrounded her with love and prayers, hoping to see her recover. And truthfully, even the professionals have had few answers.</div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_9581_aea0_e6fd_ca8a" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-d_ckdXZlluw/WxwH1pDFKbI/AAAAAAAAsg0/CN6WojlHxkkitHUpwIZ8pQr7YI1aJgF4QCHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><br><br></div><div>How much of her battle parallels those that fight in their minds? How many struggle to make it through a day, unable to understand why they just can’t snap out of it, the weight of hopelessness upon them? How many pretend to be okay when they aren’t? How many fight to find a professional that will actually treat them with compassion and respect, and not just treat them as if they are to blame somehow? How many are given meds that sometimes work... and sometimes don’t? How many search for the things that bring them some joy, but sometimes even those things are too hard? How many have had people walk out of their life despite their best efforts to get better? How many walk through their days wondering how long they can hold on?</div><div><br></div><div>Just like there are those that destroy their own bodies with drug abuse or damaging habits, there are those that do so mentally as well. There are those that feed off the attention and pity that comes from complaining. There are those that are very negative and refuse to work to change thought patterns and bring health to their own minds. </div><div><br></div><div>That isn’t everyone. In fact, in many cases, like my daughter, someone desperate to be well will battle for a long time, seeking treatment from doctors, trying medications, therapy, and whatever else might bring an end to the feelings of despair and hopelessness. Mental illness can be more difficult to diagnose than physical illness. There is still a stigma, and many don’t receive treatment because they don’t understand that there could be physiological reasons for what they are enduring.</div><div><br></div><div>Often it takes an approach to treat those with such severe depression and anxiety that they are suicidal that includes physical, mental, and spiritual health. Certain physical issues can lead to irregularities in hormones that the brain needs. Low fat diets have starved brains of needed fats so they can work efficiently. Often a person needs to learn to think properly, on purpose. And sometimes the environments we are in need to change. </div><div><br></div><div>Treatment should never be looked at as negative. And like my daughter, professionals that treat a patient with compassion and respect will be more helpful than one that treats patients as if they are inconvenient and not trying. </div><div><br></div><div>As a Christian, I cannot deny that spirituality can make a difference in the battle. Prayer, fasting, meditation on Scripture, praise and worship, renewing the mind... all of these can be beneficial in helping battle the darkness that threatens to overtake. Here is the reality, the battle in the mind is often just as much a spiritual battle as it is physical. They work together. </div><div><br></div><div>My daughter’s example to me and those around her in her battle to find health has shown me much about the spiritual battles in the world. I often see the spiritual battle as something I can’t understand because it is something unseen. And yet, the representations of that spiritual battle are right in front of us at times. The spiritual battles flood into our physical battles, our relational battles, and our mental battles. Knowing that the battles in the mind are serious, are bigger than pulling yourself up by your bootstraps, are linked with physical and spiritual worlds, tells me that we need to approach the topic of suicide and mental health very differently than we have. </div><div><br></div><div>My greatest desire for my daughter is that she finds healing. I want her whole once again. I want her to be able to chase her dreams, not simply try to survive each day. Those fighting depression and anxiety that lead to suicide want to be whole. They want to chase dreams. But they feel that hope is gone. They are in pain and are weary of fighting. In some cases, especially with children and teenagers, their minds can’t see a reality different from that moment. They can’t see the temporary problems as temporary. The child bullied so badly in school that they take their life doesn’t see that they won’t always be in that environments. They just know they can’t handle another day of pain. </div><div><br></div><div>The celebrities that have taken their lives prove that fame and riches, chased after by so many, don’t win the battle. As much as those of us that believe the pleasures found in riches or the adoration that comes from fame would fill us inside, it is a mirage. The reality of acquiring those things falls short of true health and healing that would mean no struggle in the mind. The struggle happens despite wealth, despite fame. </div><div><br></div><div>My daughter woke up today felling a little better. She is not perfect, but she is improved. Today she will rest. Her physical health can change rapidly, and we cherish the times of “a little better,” praying for answers and healing as we seek treatment options. If it is the same for those fighting mentally, they have my understanding and compassion in a way I never felt in the past. </div><div><br></div><div>Keep holding on. Seek treatment. It is a battle, but don’t give up. It is okay to pursue wholeness and healing. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-26148937088016527492018-05-16T11:10:00.001-07:002018-05-16T11:10:45.851-07:00Cocooned For a Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmdLJIlrliDwsuwX2ZTjyUso_mwnUqC24WcKEq3Ajc9X_yf8sWLwa6HIALAXgpO7XbF5w9bMdWxogsdWgg6zai1jsoo3X2xejcJkOVZQKnPnWBwVEQsapzbOvAIOLtFkk7pTuUH4Jg6oyU/s1600/personality3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="727" data-original-width="501" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmdLJIlrliDwsuwX2ZTjyUso_mwnUqC24WcKEq3Ajc9X_yf8sWLwa6HIALAXgpO7XbF5w9bMdWxogsdWgg6zai1jsoo3X2xejcJkOVZQKnPnWBwVEQsapzbOvAIOLtFkk7pTuUH4Jg6oyU/s320/personality3.jpg" width="220" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's time for honesty.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I have withdrawn. I stopped seeking people. I stopped chasing them. Of course, a few people love me too much to let me hide from them. For me, I feel as if I am at a point in my life where I am fine with spending time on my own, in my own world. I am figuring out some stuff. I am enjoying silence instead of chaos. I am praying and spending time evaluating. I am waiting to see what God will do next.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I am actively healing. This means actively working on myself. I have to, because the picture below describes so much of how I have felt for such a long time. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qtGTBCPNjwajPCG-D-2pdTNa3MZqhsL4fywkVWKqZmFQixERYbFpZKCFL3SYZIXEIWQFpPUkBjnzrS9Ux8uhOfpbbuwxlS5X5zgtCWJyqoUZubxzj3INLNlfKUvX4nDOdcTYqfiuTCGC/s1600/personality9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="498" data-original-width="500" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qtGTBCPNjwajPCG-D-2pdTNa3MZqhsL4fywkVWKqZmFQixERYbFpZKCFL3SYZIXEIWQFpPUkBjnzrS9Ux8uhOfpbbuwxlS5X5zgtCWJyqoUZubxzj3INLNlfKUvX4nDOdcTYqfiuTCGC/s320/personality9.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
It is all lies... hate-filled, damaging lies that sent me spiraling into depression. Why would I believe this about myself? Because I have spent too long getting my worth from other people, and too many people don't know how to speak life to others. Honestly, I stink at it also. It is difficult to give what you have never received.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLQ2a3vRn00uYjDNsFzv8cNwPFFTJJlSFZy7hWFfwiEB9W387TxX0097TxAsQbQMF7Hta0JWWI2NiYchrDu95am_jgZRN-bIA_sjLL1ipmnGSWh8yaomepBvG7Ak6r_jFRHT8YYWpryfvI/s1600/personality8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="564" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLQ2a3vRn00uYjDNsFzv8cNwPFFTJJlSFZy7hWFfwiEB9W387TxX0097TxAsQbQMF7Hta0JWWI2NiYchrDu95am_jgZRN-bIA_sjLL1ipmnGSWh8yaomepBvG7Ak6r_jFRHT8YYWpryfvI/s200/personality8.jpg" width="117" /></a>I am at a place in life where God is doing some stuff, but that stuff isn't huge signs and wonders. Sometimes the stuff He is doing is deep, working inside someone more than working outside in their circumstances. That is what I feel He is doing in my life. Circumstances have been stressful. Dealing with life through the lens portrayed in the picture is unhealthy, for me and those around me. It isn't how God wants me to interact with the world and the people He has placed in my life.<br />
<br />
Some of my relationships are unhealthy. Some of the unhealthy aspects are because of me, because I see the world through wrong eyes. Some of the unhealthy aspects are because of others, because of things inside them that I can't change or fix, that it isn't even my responsibility to change or fix. Right now, God has me withdrawing from certain people, so that I can gain a perspective that comes from some time and distance.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Vc0ucn-vsgdOG69mIvEU20exWw0afuVt1IhQvK4hxc0Ygg04M1n4mpGIIg_qO7f0Cvvw5afQu0lLfPUMZbkHGnEtjx1LxKqV4hjNVjbPUSE-VIg2U_lzJerzmqJzlsaWG_is1zU9zwXU/s1600/personality1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="404" data-original-width="539" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Vc0ucn-vsgdOG69mIvEU20exWw0afuVt1IhQvK4hxc0Ygg04M1n4mpGIIg_qO7f0Cvvw5afQu0lLfPUMZbkHGnEtjx1LxKqV4hjNVjbPUSE-VIg2U_lzJerzmqJzlsaWG_is1zU9zwXU/s320/personality1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
There are some things that have been in me from childhood that I never understood. God has showed me about personality and about how we are wired differently, think differently. One of my problems is that I always wanted to fit in, and I never really did. God is showing me that it is okay to not fit in. It is okay to be different. It is okay to not have a platform, to not be the center of attention, to not see the world through the same lens as others. While His people are all in the processes of sanctification, of becoming more like Him, the great variety He put on Earth shows that He is not easily labeled. He created wondrous variety so that all aspects of His character can be portrayed to the lost and the hurting. His character is just as prevalent and glorified in the quiet songs of a grandmother as she hangs laundry as in the center of a spotlight, leading worship. He is just as glorified in the story read to a child as He is in the sermon given on Sunday. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgSzxzICSSMtK3wQlWuxio4Qmr58MhAwO3Nb-l4BtCSfGH2HVI8DTWnAzo2sO60xetLvH6W9KNuj-kUf-JdJt_PBSWpza9uwGzJosl9jfzYGjdR2eCxoUB56y1zC8WGpXlqAho3D53z2yx/s1600/personality5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="786" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgSzxzICSSMtK3wQlWuxio4Qmr58MhAwO3Nb-l4BtCSfGH2HVI8DTWnAzo2sO60xetLvH6W9KNuj-kUf-JdJt_PBSWpza9uwGzJosl9jfzYGjdR2eCxoUB56y1zC8WGpXlqAho3D53z2yx/s320/personality5.jpg" width="229" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
He is showing me that others can't fill me, can't give me what only He can give. He gives love and joy and guidance. But, I am craving His peace. So much around me is filled with an undercurrent of anger and rage that threatens to explode. In me, I have felt that same anger and rage, have fought it from poisoning my entire life. When my anger and rage left me feeling judged, I tried to hide it, to conceal it. I don't think I dealt with it very well, because instead of disappearing, it became passive-aggressive. If there is one area that me and many around me do well, it is passive-aggressive. Ironically, most don't see their own passive-aggressiveness, even though they want to call out others when it used against them.<br />
<br />
I honestly feel that it is better to deal with the anger inside in a way that doesn't explode all over my loved ones. It is better to be on my own, to write, to pray, to study, to read. These are aspects of my character that I neglected for a long time. They are hidden disciplines, and no one sees them. No one sees the hours I journal until my hand cramps. No one sees the time I spend in prayer for my loved ones. Very few of the blogs I write are shared in a forum where my nearest and dearest will give them attention. No one sees the hours I spend studying not just for college, but areas where God is having me gain knowledge and healing; such as personality, anger, rejection, trust. No one except those closest to me see me diving into books and reading, growing my empathy and imagination, growing my walk with God by reading about others' lives with Him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAEQUv-w2oXZkd6w3wlznTSnRyHer0hPhW9V6k0Tb6w3jZ5VAR8NMvVy3pdVgDd7WcnVtMFxuUfmFzwBGeqSTASjTRbVvIpSoZRXaq1s5Q-tXPRmx2emhQ09-wAh347Fdgzgq9e3LE7If9/s1600/personality2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAEQUv-w2oXZkd6w3wlznTSnRyHer0hPhW9V6k0Tb6w3jZ5VAR8NMvVy3pdVgDd7WcnVtMFxuUfmFzwBGeqSTASjTRbVvIpSoZRXaq1s5Q-tXPRmx2emhQ09-wAh347Fdgzgq9e3LE7If9/s320/personality2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
God has called me to use my gifts for Him. I write. This is a time of preparation. I don't know what direction He will send me in my writing, but I know He wants me to use my love of words to glorify Him. Right now, that means hiding in Him and spending time in the hidden disciplines. That means reading and praying and walking through this time learning to trust Him and not simply those around me. It means healing from wounds and pain so that I can write from a place of health. There are enough damaged people giving poor advise in the world. There are enough people in the world that believe they are victims and don't take any responsibility for how they treat others. There are enough people in the world worried more about their image than their character. <br />
<br />
I find, as I have made time for hidden disciplines, for delving into the strengths of my personality, that I find that peace from God. I would rather hide with God and be hidden in Him for awhile than to allow my wounded feelings to take charge. I would rather allow God to heal me than to react in passive-aggressive ways. I would rather stop placing my trust in people and allow God to bring me to Himself. I would rather feel His presence for a few moments than feel victorious in things that don't matter.<br />
<br />
Relationships matter. They do. But if I can't bring health to a relationship, than I would rather take time away than contribute to its toxicity. I can't fix someone else's wounds and damage. I can only allow God to heal my own, and in the process, show me His perspective. Only He can show me how to establish healthy boundaries. Only He can show me how to pray for those that have their own issues, but not feel responsible to do what only He can do, and fix those issues. Only He can show me how to guard my heart without allowing others to make me feel like that list above. Only He can grow me to a point where I am healthy enough to speak into others lives in a way that glorifies Him.<br />
<br />
Until that time when He tells me it is time to come out of my shell, I am learning contentment in my cocoon. I don't know how long this time will last, but it I don't think God is in any hurry. Lessons happen slowly. Lessons that stick take time. Healing takes time. Preparation takes time. I am in a place in life where I am willing to let God take the time. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-50926192573254979912018-04-25T12:52:00.001-07:002018-04-26T13:24:03.899-07:00God Shouts in Our Pains<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0BDorAjG_HkBpJybkidZsgn2QUuEnrPl3c49vEGdH8VUP5x09xFSB9z-fOGbVW7OxQcvp_MShUetEqJ7R5HikNJay51P-6hgYZ2y5rQXU3pN4SWr0RVEY01HbAjQCgVJXKM5igFh4eeS/s1600/Quotefancy-368263-3840x2160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0BDorAjG_HkBpJybkidZsgn2QUuEnrPl3c49vEGdH8VUP5x09xFSB9z-fOGbVW7OxQcvp_MShUetEqJ7R5HikNJay51P-6hgYZ2y5rQXU3pN4SWr0RVEY01HbAjQCgVJXKM5igFh4eeS/s320/Quotefancy-368263-3840x2160.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</blockquote>
I watched my daughter go through weeks of testing and severe pain only to be told that they won't do anything until she meets with her GI specialist... next month. She has fought so hard, endured so much, and it honestly feels like no one will help her in her very well documented battle to survive.<br />
<br />
The familiar feelings of rage and fear arise within and I try to distract myself with a book or a TV show. Surely something will help. I have prayed and prayed and watched this vibrant, quirky, intelligent, beautiful twenty-four year old girl get worse and worse. I suddenly understand why people question the goodness of God, when suffering is in your face like this. The images in the news containing war and famine seem so far away from our daily reality. When others question why God allows suffering, I can give the "It's a fallen world" answer.<br />
<br />
I thought the hardest thing I would ever deal with was being cheated on. Then I thought the hardest thing I would ever endure was a divorce. Then I thought being a single mom was pretty difficult. I thought unemployment was torture. Then I thought the most difficult thing ever was watching a child be abused and spending years trying to fight for her to be safe. I thought God had put me through the times that I didn't think I could endure. I thought, foolishly, as if I had a testimony already. I didn't expect everything to be without pain and suffering, but I did feel as if my family had had more than their fair share of issues. But, life doesn't work like that. God doesn't work like that.<br />
<br />
When it is your child, your perception changes. When it is your child, the fear is raw and physical. And it would be tough to endure if the many "experts" were doing their utmost to help, but the knowledge that the doctors really have no empathy and are content with watching the suffering in a young woman is a horrifying display of exactly how cold our system has become. Last October we were told she wouldn't make it until January when she was supposed to have a needed surgery. It is now April, and she still hasn't had the surgery. She has beaten the prediction, but it has not been an easy time.<br />
<br />
It is a brutal world at times, and I will take the love and grace and warmth where I can find it. The cold, hard truth is that many around us don't see the reality of the daily walk through pain. They don't see the tears of pain that come after eating even the most basic meal. They don't see the pill bottles and needles, the near daily trips to the pharmacy to pick up prescriptions. The doctor bills don't come to their mailbox; piles bound together with rubber-bands by the mail carrier so they don't get lost. They haven't carried a grown woman to the car for a trip to the hospital because she is too weak to walk. They don't hear the attending physician walk into an ICU waiting room and treat a young woman as if she just isn't trying hard enough. Their ego couldn't look at the medical records that are the size of several large phone books, and that is only the last four years.<br />
<br />
I have questioned God on if I will have to say goodbye, with tears streaming down my face and my heart in a vise. The girl has stated that, if something doesn't happen soon to change things, she doesn't think she will be here much longer. There are those that know what this does to a mother, to a family, to hear these devastating words from a young lady that feels as if her body can't keep experiencing this trauma. I can't imagine life without her, and I know most others that know her can't either.<br />
<br />
"She will have an incredible testimony." I hear from some. <br />
<br />
"Please..." I whisper silently in a plea to God.<br />
<br />
Let her have a testimony. Let God heal her through a miracle, through a doctor's hands, through whatever will allow her to stay with us here. We need her. We love her. I want to be able to tell of what God did in healing her. Right now I can only tell of what God is doing through her illness, and I feel like a hypocrite. It is hard to tell what God is doing when every day has at least one moment of me begging Him to keep her going, to keep me going. I don't have that blind trust that I would hope I would have. I doubt, and those doubts are bigger than me some days. I beg God for this time to allow us to grow closer to Him, but it often feels like the opposite is happening. We are weary. We feel like our pleas are ignored. My husband and I struggle to be strong for each other because we feel so very weak all the time. <br />
<br />
I wouldn't wish this on anyone. I know I am not alone. I know other parents are walking through a child that is severely ill. I know other parents are fighting doctors for treatment and care. I know other parents have their hearts in their throat at each downturn, each diagnosis. I know other parents have the same frustration when tests come back with no new clues on what could help. The term "inconclusive" feels like torture. We want a concrete, viable diagnosis with clear treatment that won't require jumping from one doctor to another with each one passing the buck down the road and no one actually doing more than charging for their time. I would love to meet these parents, because this path seems so lonely.<br />
<br />
C.S. Lewis said after his wife passed away from cancer, "God whispers
to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our
pains: It is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."<br />
<br />
One thing I know for certain is that life cannot be viewed through the same lens as it was in the past. The pain of this time has definitely roused me from deafness. I can see it in the faces of others that, because this situation keeps going on and on, they think there must be a reason, a cause. Christians have empathy, but only for a certain amount of time. They may feel badly for you, but it isn't their reality. They are human, faced with their own day to day, not a part of the reality of someone else's normal. It is discouraging to see the glazed look on their faces when they politely ask how things are and I tell them about the new tests that revealed nothing or that nothing has improved. So, I have begun to not tell much. I don't want to be a downer. I have begun to withdraw. It isn't that I don't think others care. It's just that it sounds so negative, even to my ears, to not be able to say that all is well. God knows. He has heard the thousands of prayers. A chronically sick woman where challenges extend not for weeks or months but for years doesn't fit into most people's lives. It challenges their worldview, that they are exempt from such crisis because they are blessed by God.<br />
<br />
I can tell you that I see blessing very different now. <br />
<br />
Not long ago a person complained how they don't feel supported in a new venture. It was a slam, subtle but vicious, and I cried when I read it. I cried because, on the same day, I was trying to find someone that would take my sick daughter to an emergency appointment. I was rearranging my schedule to help out my children so they could get to needed doctor appointments, while running a third daughter to her job. I had put aside my own responsibilities temporarily, to help, because that is what you do for those you love. I realized at that moment that people don't understand, that they can't understand unless they have been there. And while I was hurt, knowing the comment was aimed a bit at me, I also thanked God that this person didn't have to experience what no parent should endure.<br />
<br />
I don't mean to sound angry. Actually, I think this is a gift that people are shielded from many of the harshest realities around them. People can only understand from their level of perception. And, thank God. Thank God they aren't asking for prayers for their child's life. Thank God they have the time to surround themselves with like-minded people that will encourage them and tell them they are awesome. Thank God they can be irritated at petty grievances, the traffic or the weather or the slow store clerk. Thank God they have the luxury of complaining about their overbearing boss or how close-minded that person is on social media. I will even go so far as to say thank God that people can be insecure or territorial or petty about things that have no bearing on life and death. Because the alternative is unthinkable. I am glad most aren't walking this path. I am glad my loved ones aren't in this place. I am glad that they can worry about daily issues like the cold their child has or getting to work on time or what to eat for dinner. These are issues that I relish dealing with now because they are normal. I am grateful that I am not watching some one else break down when their child has a tube shoved through their nose, causing them to bleed and gag and cry in pain, to pump out a stomach turned septic from undigested food. I am grateful those of us that have endured that did so with strength we didn't know we had. I am grateful that others can plan vacations and use their talents in giving to the world, for these are the blessings of God. Yes, the things that seem so dire and urgent and important, the things that seem like a hassle and inconvenient, these are the blessings of God.<br />
<br />
I sit with my daughter some evenings, laying around on the couch. We watch TV. We play Words with Friends with each other on our phones. We send funny memes back and forth. She doesn't feel well, so we don't do much. Sometimes she snacks a little when she can. She doesn't eat many big meals anymore. She sleeps a lot, so she can have the energy to keep living her life... help with teenagers at church, spend time with a beautiful toddler, snuggle her dog. I see these times as the most precious moments, gifts of peace in the chaos. She may be in pain, but she only lets on when it becomes overwhelming. She takes a pill to calm her anxiety. She gives of herself, in whatever way she can, even though it costs her sometimes. She will forgo sleep to have a few more minutes with those she loves.<br />
<br />
Last year, in my social media memories, I saw where we would go walking in the mornings. She can't do that now. She doesn't have the energy. I loved those walks with her. One day, perhaps, we can go walking again. For today, I will be grateful she pushed herself to perform a human video for Easter. For today, I will be grateful that she rides with me to church on a Wednesday evening, listening to music and singing worship songs with me. For me, I will cherish the random text that arrived while I was studying, saying, "You're beautiful. Just so you know."<br />
<br />
I don't know what lessons God has in this time. I don't know what He will do with all of this. Right now it is difficult to see what could be when I am consumed with what is. There have been surprises for us along the way. There have been people that have reached out that I never expected. There has also been a shift inside me, somehow, where I feel sacred moments, moments of living in the present and capturing them in my heart.<br />
<br />
There have been people and situations where I have had to withdraw. I have cut down on my own goals to focus on what is needed now. I have forgone what I wanted for what was needed. And, I'm perfectly fine with doing so. I have had to step back from responsibilities, from people, from situations and circumstances that are too much right now. I have to be healthy, as much as I can, physically, mentally, and spiritually. I can't give from an empty tank. I can't walk out each day, with the ups and downs that are unique in this time, my heart already wrenched in two, and surround myself with responsibilities that demand too much of my energy and people that choose to see how I am failing them. Not at this time. Not when I am doing my best each day to cherish moments, not when I am living in fear of my prayers receiving an answer of "no." I have overloaded myself in the past and was not good for those that needed me. I have let people speak negativity over me and my life and the lives of my children for too long and I won't waste time with those that seem to feel it is okay to do so.<br />
<br />
In the times of barely hanging on, sometimes other things have great clarity.<br />
<br />
I long to say, in one year, that I was overreacting. I long to look at this as the past that was tough, but everything turned out okay. I long to brag of the great miracle that occurred. I have to reconcile what I long for with being content with God's will. I have to find peace in the unfair. I have to cherish the little blessings. I have to write what was good, even in the midst of unbearable, or I will forget to see God is good.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-2784881337311510522018-04-14T11:56:00.000-07:002018-04-15T23:11:10.370-07:00Soul Care During Tough Times<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq6EI0tbge4JgkuLr44MadYvhyitaorLciaK-HJyqCzsMKnQYlSxGKkjvhEOFwoicXIbxTN7zBnseyoAfRI6yKHqON2_UVVImOT46mpZs13Rq5IZAN0VnYxdMj1x65wYvQq3Sg9k_VsjyN/s1600/blogphoto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq6EI0tbge4JgkuLr44MadYvhyitaorLciaK-HJyqCzsMKnQYlSxGKkjvhEOFwoicXIbxTN7zBnseyoAfRI6yKHqON2_UVVImOT46mpZs13Rq5IZAN0VnYxdMj1x65wYvQq3Sg9k_VsjyN/s320/blogphoto.jpg" width="320" id="id_62e0_dd63_c3d7_7ee3" style="width: 320px; height: auto;"></a></div>
I am the person that will put herself last when it comes to meeting the needs of those around me. I have done it for a long time, and the result is usually I end up sick, unable to take care of anyone. So, over the last few months, I have been determined to take more time for myself. After all, I can't give to others if I am empty.<br>
<br>
Taking care of yourself means different things to different people. Some think it is about some pampering, with pedicures or spa days. I think that is wonderful if you can afford to do so. Some want to travel. Some work out and drink more water. Some gather a group of their friends and paint the town red. All of these things are great if they are what fills you.<br>
<br>
My personality is what is key to taking care of myself. Different personalities fill up in different ways. We find different things feed our souls. For instance, I don't mind hanging out with friends, but large groups wear me out. They drain me. I can be in a group for awhile, but eventually I need to get away. For me, hanging out with one or two people, having conversations over coffee, is better. And even then, it is not something that I feel the urge to do constantly.<br>
<br>
Life can get stressful very quickly. Tough times sometimes come, and though you tell yourself it is just a chapter of your book, the chapter seems to be long and exhausting. Life sometimes happens in this way because it is a marathon, not a sprint. The battles we face, the trials that we think might take us under, sometimes keep going for awhile... much longer than we ever dreamed possible. The key is to take care of yourself in the midst of the tough times. <br>
<br>
For some, this is not a natural instinct. Some personalities (all us empaths) naturally are attuned to meeting the needs of others around us first. We will put off our needs to help those around us that we love. Sometimes doing so even feeds us a little because we are serving, and serving is a priority for us. Eventually, however, we can run dry and the weight of the world falls on our shoulders. Slowly, I am learning to set boundaries for myself, to take care of me so that I can take care of others.<br>
<br>
What works for me might not work for someone else. Know yourself. Know what feeds you. The key for me was learning about my personality (INFP). I learned about how God wired my brain. I took the silly tests and read the books and articles, and discovered that it is okay if the ways I take care of my soul and meet my needs are different than what works for others. What works for me might actually be more stressful to someone else. The reverse is also true. What works for someone else might seem like torture to me.<br>
<br>
Soul care... filling up so that I can give to those around me... this is vital, and never more than during tough times. I want to put what works for me, but that isn't necessarily what works for everyone else. I hope that what works for me doesn't inspire others to copy me, but to be inspired to look inward and discover what works for them.<br>
<br>
<h2>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">How I feed my Soul:</span></h2>
<br>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: large;">Quiet</span></h3>
<br>
I love quiet. After years of a busy home with five daughters and their friends, I didn't think that quiet was something I would have. My youngest daughter talks from the moment she wakes until she finally falls asleep. It is still sometimes rare, even though most of my children have grown, but I purposely seek to find it. For years, even when I had those rare times of being alone, I always had noise happening. I would switch on the radio or the television for the background noise. Now, I enjoy not having background noise. I have found that quiet is peaceful. I enjoy a cup of coffee with only the birds singing outside. My mind stops running a hundred miles an hour when I find quiet time, and I am able to simply be. It is in the quiet that I can talk to God. It is in the quiet that I can push aside all the stress and trials and breathe. It is here, in the quiet, that I can process the wild thoughts that tend to run chaotically through my brain. It is here, in the quiet, that I can soften my soul and find some rest.<br>
<br>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: large;">Reading</span></h3>
<br>
I am a reader. That has been a fact since I was a young girl. Reading gives my mind a place to go and something to do other than think about the stuff that is happening in life. Let's be honest, one of the most difficult things in tough times is the battle in the mind. Any other over-thinkers out there? I have escaped from my mind by vegging in front of a tv and binge-watching Netflix. Sometimes that helps, especially if my brain has been busy all day with college classes and needs a passive activity for awhile. But reading isn't passive. Reading fills my soul. Each book that I dive into feels like a secret between me and the universe, a trick where I get to briefly live a different life. I get to experience things that are far removed from my life as it is currently. Sometimes, I get to live a life that is far removed from most of our reality. Anyone that has ventured through Narnia or hid in a wall with the Borrowers knows that there is something special about places or perspectives that are not our own. Sometimes, during tough times, the best way to get through is to not focus on it quite so much. There is only so much we can do, at times. So much is out of our control. For those of us that will drive ourselves crazy with overthinking, distracting our minds can be a great blessing. And occasionally, God will lead us to books or a story that gives us encouragement during the tough time.<br>
<br>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: large;">Writing</span></h3>
<br>
I process information by writing. When I read an assignment for school, I am usually writing. When I hear a sermon at church, I take notes. When I want to remember something, I write it. And when my thoughts are running wild and bouncing off the walls of my brain, writing sorts them out and processes them. This is me. I know that others aren't wired this way. I have probably deleted a hundred blog posts. I wrote them and processed what I was feeling while writing, and felt there was no need to post. Sometimes my writing is a way to sort what is in my heart and mind. When I am done, I often see that it isn’t what God would have me share with the world. I journal, and journal, and journal. Sometimes the speed of a keyboard is more expedient in the processing of my thoughts. Sometimes, writing it all out longhand is best. It all depends on my thoughts at the moment. <br>
<br>
My husband will decompress by playing music or diving into a project that usually involves working with his hands. That is his personality. One of my daughters will draw. That is her way to decompress. I have friends that will call up and chat for an hour as a way to decompress. For me, if I want to make sense of my thoughts and my feelings, I must write. <br>
<br>
For a long time I didn't understand this about myself. I would run into problems with my mouth because I would talk too much to the wrong people, just trying to process the myriad of thoughts and feelings. My jumbled thoughts and feelings would come out wrong, especially if I was upset. I would cause more problems. Most people couldn’t understand that I was just trying to process in a brain that moves very quickly through emotions I feel very deeply. Of course, if I didn't understand, it makes sense that others wouldn't understand. When I began writing more and with purpose, journaling and copying Scripture and blogging about more than homeschool goals, I began to understand this part of my personality. I have to have an outlet, and the healthiest one for me is to write. <br>
<br>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: large;">Study</span></h3>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">This is where I lose people. This seems an odd addition to the list about soul care. I am not normal. I enjoy learning. I enjoy studying. I love to pursue my passions, diving in and learning everything I can about them. I am in college part-time, and get a little disappointed in myself if I don't put all I have into each subject. While college can be stressful, learning is not. I find that my brain comes alive when I am excitedly pursuing something of interest. I retain so much more when the topic is something that I feel a curiosity to learn. I always assumed that I was strange, and many people have made me feel that I am definitely odd because I enjoy this. However, I have come to see it differently.</span></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">God talks to me when I study. Yes, He definitely speaks through His Word. Studying the Bible is one of my favorite things to do. But He also speaks to me when I study other things. God doesn't classify some things as His and others as secular. The world is His and all that is in it. So, when I am studying about myths and legends in my Child's Literature class, I can see how the power of story can be used to paint Godly truths, such as what Jesus did when he taught using Parables. When I am studying personality, whether Myers-Briggs or Enneagram, I can see how God gave such great variety to His people, and we are all still in the image of Him. </span></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Most people link "study" to school. For me, it is just how I feed my mind. I have a big imagination. I can escape into my own world very quickly. I believe in being authentic. Learning about the world around me feeds the world inside me. I am very much "in my head" most of the time. I read once that prayer is how we talk to God, study is how He talks to us. I have found this to be true not only in studying the Bible or theology, but in studying nearly anything. It may seem odd to say that studying feeds my soul, but in a strange way, it does. I get a sense of fulfillment when chasing down information. </span></span><br>
<br>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: large;">Alone</span></h3>
<br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Of all the things that fill me, I have found I need time on my own most of all. I have come to closely guard my alone time. In part, alone time allows me to do all of the above. I homeschool, so alone time is often in short supply. When I have a chance to just be on my own for a bit, I jump at it. Whether it is an hour at the library or time in the bath each evening, I strive to find time to be alone. This is the personality of an introvert. We need alone time to recharge. When the weather is nice, I love to take long walks, just me and my headphones. Sometimes I play an audiobook or a podcast. Occasionally, I just put them in my ears so others don't feel the urge to strike up a conversation, and I walk and walk. It's wonderful. I love going hiking with my husband. We might talk, but often we are just enjoying time together, hiking and looking at the scenery. In this way we can be alone together. He's more introverted than me and this is one thing we both enjoy. </span></span><br>
<br>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"> A Marathon, not a Sprint</span></span></span></h3>
<br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tough times don't have to mean that you can't take care of your soul. In fact, during the tough times, it is probably more important to do so. Yes, it is important to take care of your physical body. Get some exercise, eat healthy, and get plenty of rest if at all possible. Take care of your spirit by staying in touch with God. Spend time with Him in prayer and in His Word. Let Him flood you with His peace. But remember to take care of your soul. Find the ways that feed you and do them if you can. Of course, there are times when that becomes a challenge. Some weeks are more challenging, busier, more stressful than others. In those weeks, you might only get to pray a quick prayer and hope you can take a shower alone. You might not have the time, in some seasons of life, to take a long walk or dive into a good novel. And if you feed your soul by spending time with a group, there may be times when that is impossible due to crazy schedules. Just do your best. </span></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">It seems as if the tough times in my life didn't end quickly. Some do, but others linger, sometimes for years, and become a backdrop of life. Health battles aren't often healed quickly. Financial issues can take time to sort out. Relationship problems sometimes need space and work. Whatever the tough time, it is important to feed your soul during. "Life is what happens when you are making other plans." Sometimes, life is what happens when you are trying to get through whatever is in front of you. One day the testimony may be there, and you can look back and see how God brought you through. You can look back and see the little things; the moments with God, the book that brought a smile, the walk in the sunshine, the page of thoughts written haphazardly in a notebook, and know that life is about more than the tough times. Our story, at the end of our lives, the chapters will tell a story far more complex than the tough times. Our story will show how we endured during the trials, who we lifted up, and the inner life that showed our true hearts. We must remember, this life is not a sprint that only contains one hill to climb, it is a marathon with many hills. We have to take care of ourselves along the way.</span> </span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-55334667599698158252018-02-07T07:49:00.001-08:002018-02-07T09:05:34.732-08:00The Highlight Reels<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<img alt="" height="320" id="id_3536_5256_ad84_28fc" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-TPm-XDZbcZA/Wnsf7EcvavI/AAAAAAAAsWU/nAgqsjXuNu8YvoSK-GoLWS7aJdGSHtwAwCHMYCw/s320/%255BUNSET%255D" style="display: block; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 342px;" title="" tooltip="" width="256" /><br />
<br /></div>
<div>
Every morning I look at the app on my phone called <a href="http://appsload.net/en/apps/92570?utm_campaign=IOSFreeAppUS_timehop&utm_medium=331080525_1166581988905387_92570&utm_source=cpc"><i>Timehop</i></a>. I see the pictures from years past that were taken on that day. I see a glimpse of my life with my family through the years. Sometimes those glimpses are humorous. Other times they break my heart. But every day I see part of my journey.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<img alt="" height="320" id="id_aeb9_d24f_9bf5_c541" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fAE27UV69Yc/Wnsf3BpuLXI/AAAAAAAAsWI/ymd0zueg6tU6wW0eWDXRCwMgfBmD459OACHMYCw/s320/%255BUNSET%255D" style="display: block; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 334px;" title="" tooltip="" width="320" /><br />
<br />
<div>
The pictures I have shared over the years on social media are the highlight reel. I don’t have the pics of the dirty home or the times I lost my temper. I don't often show the blurry pictures. I don't even take pictures of the sickness or the times of financial struggle. Most of us don't easily share the mistakes, the tough times, the hurts. We don't show the two days we laid on the couch binging on Netflix. We show the pictures of smiling children, playful puppies, beautiful shots of nature, holidays, and special moments.<br />
<br />
And that is perfectly fine. Why? Because we should be able to focus on the positive in life. The negative will always be available, tempting us to despair.<br />
<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfW4yvYSBVwv_P_NM7B1IHT4nNWxvngv3bNT7daGwAxf9t53Mi8FpCZJmopoykXlI7_sk96CXA4TfXu-x6uV0gLCGkSHF9yUSS4jQ-f2YdbA8VSBufNLxAiWEORT1U1Pxzen0E6IeRUGmL/s1600/positive.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="334" data-original-width="700" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfW4yvYSBVwv_P_NM7B1IHT4nNWxvngv3bNT7daGwAxf9t53Mi8FpCZJmopoykXlI7_sk96CXA4TfXu-x6uV0gLCGkSHF9yUSS4jQ-f2YdbA8VSBufNLxAiWEORT1U1Pxzen0E6IeRUGmL/s320/positive.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I see the beauty of the journey when I look at the memories that I made throughout the years. I see my children grow. I see the changes that have occurred. I see pictures I took of nature, moments in time that captured my attention, the projects I embarked upon. I remember what my family was going through at that time. The negative is there, at the cusp of my memory, tempting me to relive the emotions, but the picture is there, reminding me that there were good moments in the tough times. <br />
<br />
When we lacked provision, we had each other. When we weren't sure how to get through, we did, and the pictures attest to the ongoing journey. When I was overwhelmed and stressed with a large family, I captured the memories of my young daughters playing and dressing up and putting on "shows" for us in the living room. <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<img alt="" height="238" id="id_a094_119a_5b07_81c2" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-G-bn5xt91ZQ/WnsfyRQuCsI/AAAAAAAAsWA/rVXqIkepHBAFXvL7Ayd9byUK7aHUqiacgCHMYCw/s320/%255BUNSET%255D" style="display: block; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 271px;" title="" tooltip="" width="320" /><br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My life won’t capture the envy of Hollywood. It won’t sell bestselling books. The stories I have lived, the trials I have endured, are the things that God has used to teach me lessons, develop compassion in me for others in similar circumstances, or to give me a testimony of His faithfulness. They aren’t things that others look at and think, “I want that life.” There are, instead, things I look back at and think, "I have been blessed."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It's okay to be content with what God has given, not with the ideals you imagined in your mind when you were young. It's okay to not reach every goal or see every dream come to fruition. It's okay to grasp for simple blessings that don't fit the narrative of success in our culture.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<img alt="" height="320" id="id_2c62_faf3_ae93_1360" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-50UDOkC-Knw/Wnsf0zc7NaI/AAAAAAAAsWE/Xh5DC0MUaFUiBpnCQWAN1onmBZboqiVgQCHMYCw/s320/%255BUNSET%255D" style="height: auto; width: 392px;" title="" tooltip="" width="320" /></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It’s okay because my journey is unique. I am learning to find joy and peace in the midst of hard times. I am learning to be positive on purpose. I am learning to enjoy the blessings, even when my heart is heavy. I’m learning that the quirks and misunderstood parts of my personality are there for reasons, that fitting in isn’t always a good thing. I’m learning there are others like me in the world, and they aren’t part of a clique, may not have a tribe, but they add so much value to life. As I’m doing these things, and learning these things about myself, I find my hard times aren’t so hard. I find my memories are like the <i>Timehop</i> pictures, focused on the good. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Social media may show the highlights of my life, but my writing shows the struggles. I write about the lessons I am learning, the pleas in my heart to God, the mundane homeschooling project, and walk in the snow. I write because that is part of me also. Combined with the photos, I see a journey. I may never be rich. I may never be famous. My blog posts don’t often reach thousands. But never have I written a post or taken a photo with a big goal. I record my journey. Sometimes it’s visually. Other times, being a “word” girl, it is in writing. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<img alt="" height="240" id="id_3ca1_8977_f1d7_73d5" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QW-aCG_F64A/Wnsf6AzNALI/AAAAAAAAsWQ/IoAExjjTK0AT30zwsh2HeUcASvtpTSwLwCHMYCw/s320/%255BUNSET%255D" style="display: block; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 318px;" title="" tooltip="" width="320" /><br />
<br /></div>
<div>
My adventures will probably always be small. That isn’t me saying I won’t set big goals or dream big dreams. It’s me saying that I won’t feel like my life has failed if I never get to do the big things. For instance, if all I do is raise my children, homeschooling each to graduation, I will know I did what God told me to do. If I get to finish my degree and one day work in a library, I will consider that a success. If I continue to learn and grow and live with love and authenticity, then I will have been me. If I continue to serve God, learning about Him, worshiping and loving Him, I will know He will use my life both here in earth and in eternity. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In the end, I hope I choose to bless those around me, to speak life into their days, to love unafraid. Being content with a life, my life, that God blesses me with is a choice, a decision. Choosing to live each day finding meaning in the mundane is one of the keys to knowing purpose. Making that meal, washing that laundry, reading to that child, studying that lesson, rinse and repeat... those are what make a life. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<img alt="" height="320" id="id_81c7_4912_4277_d915" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hkaKRnDsB-w/Wnsf6OaJ0LI/AAAAAAAAsWM/d4ZPJE_emX87EUrQL6oJvcZ8nJlTCQ2-QCHMYCw/s320/%255BUNSET%255D" style="display: block; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 318px;" title="" tooltip="" width="320" /><br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The highlight reel on social media is perfectly fine as long as you see the beauty in your days and not compare the good you display and the bad you hide with only the good in someone else's highlight reel. We should focus on the good, learn from the struggles, and keep pressing on. If your life isn’t the stuff of a Hollywood movie, that’s perfectly fine. If you don’t die famous, life is still good. And if you somehow don’t get all your dreams fulfilled, but loved well and kept going with as much joy as possible, your life will have been a success.</div>
</div>
www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-11011212481898682052018-02-05T18:47:00.001-08:002018-02-05T19:11:47.323-08:00Any Dream Will Do<img alt="" height="320" id="id_d250_5e62_421f_3a4d" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Ww6laY2Ml1o/WnkXQmsLkiI/AAAAAAAAsVw/2k9Ix5Tb_3E2tF-PVQl-CeBeXjhn_M_pgCHMYCw/s320/%255BUNSET%255D" style="display: block; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 338px;" title="" tooltip="" width="285" /><br />
Sometimes a second chance can change a life. Such is the case for Shay. Convicted of embezzlement, she is released from jail to begin her life anew, as a felon.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
She stumbles into a church and the pastor, Drew, helps her get into a program called New Hope. This sets the stage for new beginnings for Shay and for Drew. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This was my first Debbie Macomber novel. I stumbled upon it at Walmart, in paperback. As I read the synopsis and the first few pages, I knew I wanted this book in hardback. So I ordered it, and prayed I wasn’t wasting my money. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I enjoyed the story immensely. While it wasn’t all I hoped, it made some awesome points as the main character changed her life and the people around her lifted her up. I think we often forget how far we have come. We often see that person we once were and not the person we have become through Christ. And there are so many other people that will hold our pasts against us.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Shay faced these issues. She faced them from the world, but I was struck by how Shay dealt with the worst judgments and criticisms from the church.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And yet, in some ways, I could understand the church’s trepidation. We want to offer Jesus to the world, to watch Him redeem the lost and the broken. We also want to use wisdom. At one point in the book, Shay is offered the opportunity to count the church offerings and set up the deposit. My own thought was, “I probably wouldn’t extend that kind of trust.”</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know my weak points, the sin that so easily entraps. Most churches have multiple people counting money for accountability for the very reason that temptation exists, even for someone with no history of theft. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The story shows a woman that made a poor decision turned her life around and was given a second chance. Faith’s role was downplayed, and that was a bit sad because the work of Christ in a person’s heart and mind is so much bigger than any other journey. And yet, there was still so much to the book that showed the process of redemption. The way many people around Shay fought for her and helped her, uplifted her and stood by her side was an awesome example of how we are supposed to be.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I think the character of Shay made a poor choice while trying to help her brother. Other than that, her inclination to do her best, to work hard, to reach out to the homeless, and to be friendly to all she met showed her real person underneath was not represented in the mistake that sent her to jail. She understood that others saw her mistake, her crime, as her identity. She set out to change that for herself without trying to force that on others. That speaks volumes about how we should be as new creations in Christ. We have to live it, not preach it or force it on others. The genuine changes in us will be seen by all that take the time to look.</div>
www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-33089623785829238132018-01-30T10:28:00.000-08:002018-01-30T10:28:29.491-08:00Why Christians Need Story<i><b>And
they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their
testimony, and they did not love their lives to the death. Revelation 12:11</b></i><br />
<br />
<div>
<b><i><br /></i></b></div>
<img alt="" height="320" id="id_41a_1c99_2083_bd6f" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tnuArZquYQ0/Wm-eJK7nNuI/AAAAAAAAsU8/ONQ1hK4b7boLVM_3bvi5lA8br3TeEzekwCHMYCw/s320/%255BUNSET%255D" style="display: block; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 330px;" title="" width="320" /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5738724991642549961#editor/target=post;postID=7258012674963645143;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=0;src=link" title="Edit post">Edit</a><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<br />
It <a href="http://www.twotenmag.com/magazine/issue-3/features/courageously-facing-the-giants/">took Hollywood by surprise.</a><i><b>. </b></i>The small movie, produced in 2006 for $100,000, made three million dollars in the first two weekends. <a href="https://www.christianbook.com/facing-the-giants/pd/702899?event=ESRCG"><i>Facing the Giants </i></a>was
called the "Little Movie that Could," and it violated most of the rules
for a blockbuster movie, It didn't have sex scenes. It wasn't
violent. It wasn't marketed for children, though children could see
it. And, it targeted a small segment of the population... Christians.
The reviews from secular publications were not positive. And yet, it
ended up grossing over ten million dollars domestically. It opened the
door for other films to be made that shared the magic of story from a
Christian point of view.<br />
<i><b> </b></i><br />
My bookshelves are full. When I became a Christian, in my early
thirties, I looked at my shelves of romance and action books, and I knew
that this was not what God would want me reading. It was a bit tough
to let go of the characters in books, as they had become my friends in
many ways. But they were the kind of friends that I knew would
influence me poorly. And so, I trashed nearly all of them. I threw
them away.<br />
<br />
The power of story has always deeply influenced me. Stories influence
my thoughts and emotions. They influence decisions. They inspire. And
so, when I threw away the books full of things I knew God would not
want me to keep putting into my mind and heart, I needed a replacement.
I needed to have access to books that would inspire my new life as a
Christian, that would teach and guide, that would flood me with all the
things of God in the way that I had been flooded with the things that
were not of God before I followed Jesus.<br />
<br />
I filled my life with the novels by Karen Kingsbury, Tim LaHaye, Davis
Bunn, Robin Jones Gunn, Terri Blackstock, and others. I filled my mind
with the stories of others finding and living for Jesus, through all the
ups and downs in their lives. As I did so, I found friends again, in
the fictional characters. I found a place where I could go to when my
life was struggling or my faith was tested.<br />
<br />
Stories are vitally important or God wouldn't have used them. The Bible
is full of stories about the lives of His people. Jesus taught through
the use of parables, stories that have lessons for His followers.
Story was used for generations, oral narrations gave history and lessons
and meaning to people in all cultures. How can we overcome when life
is oppressing us, when we are tired and tested, when we need to see God
working? By the blood of the Lamb (our only way to salvation) and the
word of our testimony.<br />
<br />
What does our testimony do? If we love Jesus and serve Him, our
testimony tells of Him. It tells of what he did in certain situations
in our lives. It inspires others to know that they are not alone, that
not only is God with them in their challenges, but that others have also
walked a similar path, and God was with them. I love to tell what God
did when, after years and years of prayers and struggling, we watched
God not only bring my step-daughter out of a rough environment, but
bring healing to her soul. When I see a parent that is worried for the
safety of their child, I can understand that parent.<br />
<br />
We overcome through the use of story because story reminds us that the
world isn't just about us, but rather that it is a story about Him.
That story is still ongoing, at work in our lives every day.<br />
<br />
I recently read the story <a href="https://www.christianbook.com/impossible-miraculous-mothers-faith-childs-resurrection/joyce-smith/9781478976950/pd/976951?event=ESRCG">The Impossible by Joyce Smith</a>.
The book tells the true story of her son falling through the ice and
being underwater for over fifteen minutes. He was without a heartbeat
for 45 minutes. He was dead. Joyce walked into that Emergency Room
and began to pray. Her son's heart began to beat.<br />
<br />
The story continues with the struggle of the boy's healing, the fears
and doubts of the family, the decision of the family to refuse to allow
death to be spoken around the boy. It is the story of a family that
watched God heal their son, the son that should have died, the son that
should have been a vegetable. A little over two weeks after the
accident, the boy walked out of the hospital, completely healed. He had
no brain damage. He was healed.<br />
<br />
These are the reasons we need story. I have heard about, read, and
studied for years the power of speaking life. This story, of a family
and church choosing to apply the principle and stick with it was more
impacting to my spiritual walk than all the study I have done
previously. Story... a testimony... changed how I choose to speak about
my situations and struggles.<br />
<br />
The power of story needs to be understood by every Christian. Not all
stories have the endings we associate with happy. For instance, the
book<a href="https://www.christianbook.com/coming-home-karen-kingsbury/9780310333678/pd/333678?event=ESRCG"> Coming Home by Karen Kingsbury</a>
deals with the death of not just one loved one, but nearly every member
of a family in a tragic accident. I cried and was deeply grieved by
the loss in this book, as the characters had become known to me through
the years of reading about them in the series. And yet, the hope given
in the book was astounding, even in the face of grief.<br />
<br />
I thought about the father in the story, knowing his daughter was dying,
and choosing to trust God anyway. I thought about it when I read it,
and it came back to me when my own daughter was in the ICU last
October. God spared my child. But I knew God reminded me of that story
as a way for me to see clearly that, in the midst of fear and pain, I
could still choose to trust Him, no matter what happened. My fear was
great, as I didn't want to lose my precious daughter, but He met me in
those moments, and reminded me of a book I had read a couple of years
earlier.<br />
<br />
How amazing is our God? How great is His love for us? He gave us the gift of story!<br />
<br />
We all have our different ways of absorbing story. Some of us like the
straight-out stories told in books or movies. Some of us feel story in
music. Some us like to listen to others, because the story of their
lives in interesting. Some of prefer our stories to be in forms that
are more visual, such as graphic novels or works of art. Either way,
story changes our world, and Christians need this now more than ever.<br />
<br />
The stories we see on the nightly news or that are focused on in the
media are often not glorifying to God. The stories that are most
popular today reflect the cultural norms and values, not the ones God
shows. While we should desire to be informed, we also need to be
transformed. The negativity and even outright hostility of the things
of God in our secular world can leave us feeling as if we are losing the
battle in a war that the Bible states we win. We can lose hope. We
have to purposely put God-glorifying story into our lives. <br />
<br />
I am always thrilled when the Gospel is told in a culturally relevant
way. Sometimes that takes thinking outside the box and presenting the
truth of Jesus to people in a way that uses the current culture. That
is precisely what Jesus did in His parables. He used what the culture
of the time knew and understood. The Prodigal Son is a story that most
of us have found ways to relate to because, throughout time, prodigals
still exist. And yet, most of us don't give the oldest child a double
inheritance or go to the backyard and kill the fatted calf when we
decide to hold a celebration. We don't understand just how insulting it
was in that culture for a child to ask for his inheritance before the
death of a parent. Those that heard the Parable at the time would have
understood, and it wouldn't have had to be explained. Today, we have to
explain just how significant these details are to people for them to
understand. Telling the story of a prodigal from today's perspective,
with applicable current cultural norms, can be a reason someone's world
is changed.<br />
<br />
Please, Christians, tell your story, and be creative when doing so.
Tell how Jesus has changed your life. Tell how He has brought you out
of your slavery. Were you trapped in the chains of addiction? Were you
locked in the bars of abuse? Were you a prodigal that God brought
back? If God saved you through His Son Jesus, you have a story that
glorifies Him.<br />
<br />
Use words. Write music. Paint a picture. Be visual. Film a movie.<br />
<br />
If that seems too big, then remember your life is a story. Tell it in
the mediums we all use every day. Tell what God is doing or has done on
Facebook. Post the pictures of what God is doing in your life on
Instagram. Let your story be one that the Lord sees and uses, even
though it is flawed and even though it is full of mistakes. You never
know how your story, your testimony, will help someone else to overcome.
The pictures tell more than a thousand words. The songs, the ones that
give glory to Jesus, are the soundtrack of our story. <br />
<br />
Don't discount what your testimony can do in your own life. Sometimes
remembering what God has done in my life and in the lives of loved ones
reminds me that He is not done, and that if He saw me through before, He
will again. The Bible is full of times God told His people to
remember. He had monuments built so that people would remember. He
established holidays and feasts so people would remember. In those
feasts and at those monuments, the stories of God's redemption is
retold, over and over, becoming part of the fabric of the lives of His
people. His chapters become written on our hearts as we retell and
remember His great redemptive works. <br />
<br />
I will continue to promote the beauty of story in the lives of
Christians. I will continue to encourage others to engage in story and
allow the beauty of what God is doing in the world to flood your being.
I honestly believe that sharing our stories, humbly, with all glory
given to Jesus, is one of the best weapons for overcoming. A story can
change perspective. It can inspire. It can move hearts. It can
transform lives. It can plant seeds for salvation. Stories teach the
most long-lasting lessons. Story uses emotion and imagery and words to
teach, touching each part of the brain so that we don't easily forget.<br />
<br />
Christians needs story.www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-64639093295939050182018-01-11T21:46:00.001-08:002018-01-11T22:04:11.168-08:00Scripture Writing<img id="id_e4d_ef59_727e_f5aa" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7A4MofyJv5o/WlhLos9sHpI/AAAAAAAAsSI/c6VVhcEBdnI_XUWFvXwhsDg68Cnpv0juACHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 310px; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; display: block;"><br><div>It’s so simple, really. I’ve done it before, but this time it is not a neat idea or a duty. It is joy.</div><div><br></div><div>One of my favorite books is <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B004APA8F8/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1515733644&sr=8-1&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_QL65&keywords=safely+home+by+randy+alcorn" id="id_21e7_800d_357a_29d2">Safely Home by Randy Alcorn</a> The story is amazing. Set in China, the story is about the persecution of Christians there. In one part of the story, a section of a Bible is brought out. It is handwritten. When the main character asks why it was smudged, he is told those were the tear stains from the one that copied the words.</div><div><br></div><div>Since that time, I would often hand-copy Scripture. But... I wasn’t consistent. Mostly I would hand-copy Scripture verses when I was studying and the verses pertained to the topic. Hand-writing the verses always helped me to remember them.</div><div><br></div><div>In December, I was handed a printout of verses to write out as part of an actual Scripture writing plan. </div><div><img id="id_9b39_7b63_d75d_1363" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WxAR-yfLvrs/WlhLoLk-uWI/AAAAAAAAsSE/uiY98ClV-I0YOfRVoCG1ssSdFErU7X1pACHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 283px; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; display: block;"><br>Our leader had made each lady a copy. I decided that I would attempt to follow the plan and see how it went. I bought a small journal for the very purpose of keeping the Scripture writing in one place. </div><div><br></div><div>Writing Scriptures is something that I have fallen in love with in a very short time. In those moments, I am not just reading the Bible. I’m not digging deeply into Greek or Hebrew meanings. It is just my pen and God’s Word. </div><div><br></div><div><img id="id_2fed_9622_264f_1281" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IBHOLoQqUns/WlhLpOWdnjI/AAAAAAAAsSM/IwUnkZZxEw0m6UWS3qUEZS-FbYxPFcECgCHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 275px; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; display: block;"></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);">Scripture writing is s...l...o...w! I try to not make errors (but I do), which means paying attention to detail. Think about it, writing something longhand is very slow reading. It isn’t just glancing at the words on a page, it is meditating on them, perhaps rereading them a couple times as you write each section of the sentences. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0);"><br></span></div><div><div>“<i>It is the same with my word. I send it out, and it always produces fruit. It will accomplish all I want it to, and it will prosper everywhere I send it.”</i></div><div><i>Isaiah 55:11 NLT</i></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>The process of physically writing the verses works the same way anything a person writes out long-hand works. The mind makes a physical connection to the material with the act of transcribing something long-hand. According to <a href="https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.forbes.com/sites/nancyolson/2016/05/15/three-ways-that-writing-with-a-pen-positively-affects-your-brain/amp/" id="id_b6_cc_ae7a_c831">Forbes</a>, “<strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Handwriting increases neural activity in certain sections of the brain, similar to meditation.”</strong></div><div><strong style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></strong></div><div><div>“<i>Study this Book of Instruction continually. Meditate on it day and night so you will be sure to obey everything written in it. Only then will you prosper and succeed in all you do.”</i></div><div><i>Joshua 1:8 NLT</i></div><div><br></div></div><div><div>“<i>But they delight in the law of the Lord, meditating on it day and night.”</i></div><div><i>Psalms 1:2 NLT</i></div></div><div><br></div><div>God discusses the benefits of meditating on His Word. What does it mean to meditate on the Word of God? It means to roll it over in your brain, to think about it, to repeat it to yourself. Scripture writing does this. As you write, you are slowly meditating on the words and phrases. </div><div><br></div><div>Forbes also says, “...<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>sequential hand movements, like those used in handwriting, activate large regions of the brain responsible for thinking, language, healing and working memory.”</b></span></div><div><br></div>I knew writing verses out by hand would help to memorize them. I was stuck by the word ‘<i>healing</i>.’ </div><div><br></div><div><div>“<i>The words of the reckless pierce like swords, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.”</i></div><div><i>Proverbs 12:18 NIV</i></div><div><br></div><div><div>“<i>Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.”</i></div><div><i>Proverbs 16:24 NIV</i></div><div><br></div></div><div><br></div><div>Right before Jesus preached the Beatitudes, the Bible has this to say:</div><div><br></div><div><div>...“<i>who had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases. Those troubled by impure spirits were cured, and the people all tried to touch him, because power was coming from him and healing them all.”</i></div><div><i>Luke 6:18-19 NIV</i></div><div><br></div></div><div>People came to see Jesus and just tried to touch Him so they could be healed of their diseases. Can we expect the same from words on a page? </div><div><br></div><div><div>“<i>In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”</i></div><div><i>John 1:1 NIV</i></div><div><br></div></div><div><br></div><div>If we take the above verse to heart, the Words we are writing are Jesus. “<i>And the Word became flesh...”(John 1:14)</i>. Do I think writing Scriptures will heal me? Who am I to question the power of the Lord. He heals my heart every time I write. I almost always have a moment of the Lord filling me with Hos presence and His peace. If He does that with a few verses, I believe His Word has power.</div><div><br></div><div>Writing Scriptures is something that only takes a few minutes. And yet, those few minutes are sometimes the most beautiful part of my day. It often sets the tone for prayer. There is a quote I love to share: “Prayer is when we talk to God. Time in the Word is when He talks to us.” </div><div><br></div><div>Take the time to write out His Word, and I promise He will speak to you.</div><div><br></div><br></div>www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-53860661854551955462018-01-10T22:18:00.001-08:002018-01-11T07:42:42.213-08:00See Ya Later While I Carry On<img id="id_11e1_7df7_1e7b_8218" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iv72uMUv5XU/WlcBzAWWXMI/AAAAAAAAsR0/H89orxCwg24KFM_ly9m1hquUXGVhCrCbQCHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 314px; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; display: block;"><br><div>My husband and I have been married for eighteen years. In that time, there has been many changes in our lives. Such is life... change. In those years we have said good-bye to loved ones. Several have gone home to be with the Lord, including the two beloved faces above.</div><div><br></div><div>The two above were strong figures in our families. They were examples we often remember during times of struggle. They were known for being giving and loving and beautiful souls others wanted to be around. </div><div><br></div><div>Were they perfect? No. Their flaws and their histories made them compassionate and understanding. To this day, they are missed. To this day, we think of them on every holiday and birthday, weekends visiting each other... We tell stories of our precious memories with them. In this way, they live on, here in our hearts and memories. They left a legacy of faith and family and love. I can still hear their voices, even after five and nine years of passing time. </div><div><br></div><div>I sometimes wonder what advice they would have for us now. What would they say about the choices we have made in the years since? How would they react to our struggles? Our triumphs? Our frustrations? Our petty disputes? The children that have grown? The beautiful babies that have been born?</div><div><br></div><div>I wonder sometimes if, in heaven, the ones that have already completed the journey here get to know the ones that are on the way. Did my grandson meet his great-great grandma even before he was born? Did the newest great-niece, just months old, get to meet the great-grandpa that would have loved her so dearly? </div><div><br></div><div>One day, whether they met already or not, I pray they meet again, in a place I long for, at a homecoming more anticipated than any baby’s birth or soldier’s return. </div><div><br></div><div>What would they say to the loved ones still here, in this broken, cursed earth with sickness and fears and doubts and pain? What would they tell us when they see our struggles and hurts? We know they would rejoice over the gatherings and births and beautiful moments. I miss them at those times, because their absence is still felt so keenly. But I also miss them in the moments of confusion, when their wisdom could bring clarity. I miss them in the times of frustration, when their understanding and compassion were a healing balm. They are so missed...</div><div><br></div><div>I am not completely clueless about what they would say. None that loved them are completely uncertain. We knew what they believed. It was not a secret. We knew how they loved because it touched and impacted not just our lives, but countless others. We know, even still, that their prayers are still being answered, even after they have completed their journey. </div><div><br></div><div>We don’t always see those answered prayers on our timetable. Perhaps some, spoken in quiet, private moments, between a weeping follower and a merciful, loving Savior, are still unanswered. God, after all, doesn’t live in the bonds of our time table. A prayer yet unanswered when God calls His child home doesn’t mean that the prayer died also. </div><div><br></div><div><div>“<b><i>He always stands by his covenant— the commitment he made to a thousand generations.”</i></b></div><div><b><i>Psalms 105:8 NLT</i></b></div></div><div><br></div><div>In the moments when I most long to hear the voice of a loved one, listen to their advice, have one more day; I feel the weight of their prayers spoken years ago. They prayed not prayers for only themselves. They prayed not for riches. They prayed for the very hearts and souls of their loved ones. They prayed for blessed lives and joy, sure. Mostly they prayed for the ones they loved to know the ultimate love... the love of Jesus.</div><div><br></div><div>No matter the doubts, the disbelief, and even the apathy of those that were prayed for, the prayers still happened. The prayers still have power. The prayers still stand, and God is still moving, still working, still answering, still honoring the heartfelt requests of those that chose to honor, love, and serve Him. Their pasts didn’t matter. Their circumstances didn’t matter. Their flaws didn’t matter. All that mattered was their hearts wanted Him, wanted their loved ones to know the freedom that comes from honoring, loving, and serving Him. </div><div><br></div><div>I remind myself often, especially in the heartbroken moments when all in my world seems to have changed, when all in my world is full of people that are angry or disappointed or depressed in some way, that the story isn’t finished yet. The chapters are still being written. The prayers that were said way back in time for us can still be answered. And if the prayers from the past can be answered, my prayers today can be answered. </div><div><br></div><div><i>“And if it doesn’t turn out like I think it should, that doesn’t change the fact Your always good. Your ways are higher than mine.” </i><div style="display: inline !important;"><i><a href="https://youtu.be/d55O4XJE5yc" id="id_bab4_bb68_1478_c372">Tricia Brock, What I Know)</a></i></div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;"><br></div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;">Changes are difficult. Most of us struggle with change. We struggle with loss. We struggle with uncertainty. We feel overwhelmed by the chaos, defeated by the battles, and wounded by unexpected weapons and foes. And yet, I have seen forgiveness modeled for me. I have seen people live so well that there were very few in their world that didn’t long to give love back to them. Such was the example of the two pictured above. Such is the person I hope to be.</div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;"><br></div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;">I work to give that same love to those around me. I fail, of course, but I keep working because to keep going is what I know to do. I choose to pray for loved ones with the same passion, the same devotion as those that walked before me, completely trusting the God that blessed me with the living examples he placed in my life. I hope my life honors the spiritual legacy of devoted loved ones, because I know that they honored Christ. How could I want any less for my own life? </div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;"><br></div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;">Their journey home means I got to say, “See you later.” I know I will. I believe they would tell me lots of things. “Let go of anger.” “Love and serve the Lord.” “Always forgive.” “Trust in Him.” And while doing those things, I believe they would say, “Carry on.” </div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;"><br></div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;">“Carry on with what I prayed.”</div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;"><br></div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;">“Carry on with showing love to this broken world.”</div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;"><br></div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;">“Carry on with cherishing the life He has blessed you with.”</div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;"><br></div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;">“Carry on with walking out your journey for Him.” </div></div><div><div style="display: inline !important;"><br></div></div><div><br></div><a href="https://youtu.be/d55O4XJE5yc" id="id_bab4_bb68_1478_c372"><div></div></a>www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-63398607016848855022018-01-10T08:42:00.001-08:002018-01-10T09:17:46.846-08:00Procrastinating <img alt="" id="id_e036_28ce_8481_9ce2" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oLaC9uAy5Hk/WlZCfi3mrfI/AAAAAAAAsRk/lzcBQsrLdVs54SPlH9igA69x3JFTBPTgACHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" style="display: block; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 287px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br />
<div>
At times, I procrastinate. I know there are things I should be doing, but just get busy or lazy or weary. Most of the time, I am really good about doing what needs to be done. The bills are paid on time. Schoolwork for both homeschooling and college gets completed in a timely fashion. My home may get cluttered. I may forget the laundry in the washer for a day or two and have to rewash the clothes. For the most part, however, I don’t think I put off too much.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Except...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My health. I was on a Ketogenic diet last year, and I was feeling good. My energy level was high. My weight dropped a bit. But then life happened. The paycheck was low, and I struggled buying separate food just for me. I already have to eat gluten-free. Then college classes overwhelmed me. I would cave more and more because I was stressed. My daughter was in the ICU twice in two months, and I felt even more stress. I am totally a stress eater. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Spiritually, I felt the weight of the world. I went through a very dark time. For awhile, I just stopped caring about the food I consumed. I was so busy all the time that I stopped walking. I even stopped taking my supplements and vitamins. I still avoided gluten because I literally get sick when I eat it, but I gave up Keto.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My snacks of nuts and water became chips and diet soda. The holidays offered many sweet treats, and I indulged greatly. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The plan was to begin again in the New Year. But money was tight after Christmas and, still on break from schoolwork, I just wanted to enjoy my time of rest. I ignored the aching that I know is caused from elevated inflammation. I ignored the slumps that hit in the afternoon. I was so tired I often felt I could take a nap. Sometimes I did. I ignored the hunger. The last two weeks, I feel like I am hungry all the time!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know that all of this comes from excess sugars in my body. I know that my body was keto-adapted, and then it disappeared with eating lots of sugary, carb-loaded foods. Basically, I have felt sick and tired once again. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Having two autoimmune diseases, inflammation and high sugars are a nasty combination over time. I spent a long time last year studying the impact of sugar consumption on autoimmune diseases. It isn't a lack of knowledge, it is simply a cycle of stress, busyness, and limited resources leading to frustration and then to apathy. Even when I felt the inflammation levels rise, I procrastinated. <br />
<br />
It is human nature to take the easiest path... even when that path is leading us down a road of sickness and more health problems. After the nightmare of September through November, I knew my life was out of balance in a big way. I made it through the semester in my college classes and then dropped to part-time. I am diligently working to feel good again. I am restarting my supplements and vitamins. I am steadily working to lower my inflammation levels with diet and exercise. I am spending a lot of time with the Lord, because I simply can't handle all the stresses of life without Him. <br />
<br />
I doubt it will be smooth sailing. I am trying to plan and set myself up for success, but it is something that is challenging. I may have lowered my class load, but the rest of life is still there, and I still must deal. I know that God doesn't want me sick and tired for my journey. He has called me to be there for my loved ones, and I can't do that well if I am dealing with health issues all the time. <br />
<br />
Time to quit procrastinating and get my health back! <br />
<br />
</div>
www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-64634233380153022372018-01-03T23:58:00.001-08:002018-01-04T00:08:19.014-08:00Speak Life<div><img id="id_14b2_4ec8_edd3_d87f" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-CDNUxTrzt7c/Wk3ehzx7BxI/AAAAAAAAsP0/tTaEKAmzbkEsvIYDODmQGTRWimAgGg0ogCHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 302px; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; display: block;"><br><br></div>Years ago I read a book by Gary Chapman titled The <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/080241270X/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1515047069&sr=8-1&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_QL65&keywords=five+love+languages+gary+chapman&dpPl=1&dpID=51rV-3xwEJL&ref=plSrch" id="id_2743_5740_1e18_613d">Five Love Languages</a>. This book was quite a gem, and I still have it on my shelf. Taking the quiz, discovering my love language and the love language of my spouse, it was all very helpful. <div><br></div><div>I learned I totally stink at one love language in particular: words of affirmation. It’s sad, really, because it is one of my husband’s love languages. I have to purposely try to use words of affirmation. It doesn’t come naturally. I will go a very long time without thinking to speak words of affirmation. Yes, I know this can be a big issue for those that have this as a love language. They crave validation and acceptance with words. The craziest thing of it all is that I am a “word” person... at least in writing. </div><div><br></div><div>Over the last couple of years, I slowly began to realize that many people totally stink at this love language. Perhaps it is a cultural thing. The comedies on television often get the most laughs with sarcastic, biting remarks. Sarcasm and put-downs are often seen as dry-wit. As a culture, we have become excellent at bringing others down. We can point out “their” flaws quickly, tell “them” off when we are offended, and put “them” in their place with choice words. </div><div><br></div><div>We can do excellent work with the opposite of words of affirmation.</div><div><br></div><div>I read once that on Shabbat, Jewish husbands speak a blessing over their wife every week. I was struck by the power of that, the power of a blessing spoken over the woman of a home. Years and years of blessing spoken by a man over his wife... it’s such a beautiful concept, honoring her instead of denigrating her, lifting up her as a woman, not demeaning her in any way.</div><div><br></div><div>The last several years, thanks to preaching about the topic and a bump with a song by Toby Mac, Christians have used the term “Speak Life” instead of “words of affirmation” or “speak a blessing.” We are told to speak life, not death, over situations and people and possibilities. The <a href="https://play.google.com/music/preview/Tvkpvqr5hrjol6madfim5uuydka?lyrics=1&utm_source=google&utm_medium=search&utm_campaign=lyrics&pcampaignid=kp-lyrics" id="id_e0c8_851b_ef6f_81f0">lyrics</a> are inspiring:</div><div><br></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i>So speak life, speak life<br>To the deadest darkest night<br>Speak life, speak life<br>When the sun won’t shine and you don’t know why<br>Look into the eyes of the broken hearted<br>Watch them come alive as soon as you speak hope<br>You speak love, you speak<br>You speak life, oh oh oh oh oh</i></span></div><div><br></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">It sounds a bit like positive thinking. In a way it is because the Bible says:</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><div>“<b><i>Brood of vipers! How can you, being evil, speak good things? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.”</i></b></div><div><b><i>Matthew 12:34 NKJV</i></b></div><div><br></div></div><div>So, is what we say or don’t say an indicator of where our heart stands? The fact that so many of us are great at pointing out all that is wrong but not at what is right says something about the standing of our hearts. </div><div><br></div><div>For me, I have thought about this a lot over the last couple of years. It was a topic that weighed on me heavily when I had to speak up about uncomfortable topics, confronting issues that were not easy to confront. I thought about whether I had spoken enough words of affirmation in the past so that, when I had to confront an issue, my heart was already known to be full of love for the person. I fear I failed.</div><div><br></div><div>Even more, I know that, as a writer, it is easy to find the flaws and expound on them, but ignore the areas where I could be encouraging, building up, acknowledging and validating others. So many of us are walking around, wounded inside from harsh words used as weapons, and we just want to feel like we have worth.</div><div><br></div><div>We literally withhold worth from others. </div><div><br></div><div>This is true for everyone, but if someone has talents and gifts that don’t gain public attention, it is not uncommon for that person to feel as if they are less valuable than the person that receives praises for their public displays. </div><div><br></div><div>Over the last couple of years I have noticed how much I stink in this area. I have also realized that it is a (how can I say this without speaking ill of someone?) family trait (yikes). I don’t mean to bash anyone, but traits like this do run in families. We struggle to build up, to speak life. We don’t struggle because we aren’t verbal. We don’t struggle because we lack opinions. We struggle because it is hard. It is hard to bless others when we feel we don’t matter ourselves. We struggle because life has always felt more like a competition and a comparison, and even if it seems immature, building up others feels like a loss.</div><div><br></div><div>Does it take anything from us? No. Could it improve relationships? Absolutely. The very things we seek the most: validation, acceptance, approval, acknowledgment, love; we struggle to give. Perhaps we struggle to give it because it hasn’t ever been something we received.</div><div><br></div><div>This isn’t to blame parents. They also couldn’t give away what they didn’t receive. Some cultures are more unemotional, thinking that speaking life would be a show of weakness somehow. Those cultures brought that closed-off habit with them when the emigrated to the United States. </div><div><br></div><div>I don’t think it shows weakness. The ability to speak life, to affirm others, to speak blessings is a strength. It is strength that could change families and hearts. It’s a strength that could give value and hope. It’s a strength that is desperately needed in a world that is harsh, that cuts down, that finds humor in causing pain in others.</div><div><br></div><div>It takes intentionality to speak life to family and friends. It takes courage. It takes looking for the best in people. It takes setting yourself aside, your pride and ego, to let someone else know that they have value and worth.</div><div><br></div><div>We have a society in an epidemic. Teenagers are bullied so much they are committing suicide as a way to escape the pain. Depression and anxiety are at all-time highs, and the record number of anti-depressants being prescribed attest to this. While I believe there are many causes, a part of me wonders if our reluctance to speak life into the lives of others isn’t a contributing factor. After all, how much negative can a person take before they feel like crap about themselves and their lives?</div><div><br></div><div>Perhaps that hunger for validation explains many of the posts and pictures we see on social media.</div><div><br></div><div>God talked a lot about sin, but He also gave inherent worth to His children. He calls us His heirs, chosen, adopted, the apple of His eye, bought with a high price, royalty, sons and daughters. He sent His Son to die for us. That is a pretty high price, one He wouldn’t have paid if He found our value lacking. And yet it is easier to believe that we are worthless, lowly, trash.</div><div><br></div><div>I always wanted to feel loved and valued. A child of a father that was absent for much of my life, I felt the opposite. I felt as if I wasn’t valuable enough to stick around for. When my first husband rejected me for another woman, that validated in me a very negative worth. It has taken years of walking with Jesus to even put a dent in that self-image. </div><div><br></div><div>The thing is, as I look around, I see so many others like me. Some try to fill the void with other things, but the truth is that so many of us feel as if we are missing something vital inside, something that proves we have worth. Goodness knows we have rarely been told so, and now, we don’t know if we would believe it if we heard it. But we so want to hear it anyway. We so want to hear that we are loved and accepted and valuable. </div><div><br></div><div>I am going to be more intentional about speaking life to my loved ones. I don’t want there to be things I wish I had said should someone pass on when I am not ready. Even more, I don’t want my loved ones to live in torment, feeling invaluable, when that isn’t the truth at all. The truth is that I am amazingly blessed with an awesome family. </div><div><br></div><div>Perhaps it is time to change those habits, to let myself be vulnerable, and speak life more. I heard once that it takes ten positive things spoken to counter one negative thing. Ask yourself if you speak ten positive things over your loved ones before you speak a negative? If you think you do, ask yourself if that is true about that teenager that rolled her eyes? The husband who left his clothes in the floor? The family member that could barely disguise his contempt at the holiday dinner? The wife who complained all evening about the kids? The spouse that overspent at the store? The child with the failing grade? </div><div><br></div><div>I am under no illusions that this isn’t much more difficult to put into action than it is to write about on a screen at nearly two in the morning. And yet, change happens one person at a time, one decision at a time. </div><div><br></div><div>Be the change you want to see in the world. Speak life. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div>www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-63429899393900166032018-01-02T13:50:00.001-08:002018-01-03T08:59:58.681-08:00Don’t Let Your Heart Grow Cold<img alt="" height="320" id="id_c969_d9f8_b554_c186" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-kmt30aGegRg/Wkv-n0PbJ6I/AAAAAAAAsPk/KhrNgxNQGi0VmF2S4-k7iXbdINff3E9eQCHMYCw/s320/%255BUNSET%255D" style="display: block; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 294px;" title="" tooltip="" width="256"><br><br>
Here in the Midwest, we are in the midst of a cold snap that has temperatures in the dangerous range. The wind chill can cause frostbite very quickly. Experts are warning that people should not be outside for very long, and if they are, they need to wear appropriate clothing to keep them warm and safe.<br>
<br>The cold outside seems to somehow echo the cold I know I have battled in my faith. The cold is uncomfortable at first. Stand in it for a few minutes, however, and you begin to feel numb. Sometimes that numbness comes with a prickling sensation. Sometimes there is just the numbness, and you can’t feel the damage occurring. <div><br></div><div>How often does that happen in our faith? A chill invades our heart, from offense or wounds or hurt. We feel uncomfortable. Maybe we miss Him and we turn back. Maybe we recognize that discomfort as a warning. Or maybe we use the cold to fuel apathy. Either way, we then become numb. Numb is deceptive. We don’t feel cold. The discomfort eases. If there is a warning, it could be in that pricking sensation in our conscience. Again, we can heed the warning or dismiss it. </div><div><br></div><div>The danger with numbness is that damage is beginning to occur. The longer a body in extreme cold feels numb, the greater the chances of frostbite and hypothermia. Spiritually, numbness leads to damage, and often we are unaware it is happening until it is too late.</div><div>
<br>
My youngest daughter was obsessed with the movie "Frozen." In it, Anna has her heart frozen by Elsa (her Sister) and only true love can thaw it so she can live. We spend most of the movie wondering which guy will be Anna's "true love," only to discover at the end that the true love that could heal Anna's heart was found by the giving of herself for her sister, by sacrificing her life for another. I found it intriguing that true love didn't come with a man, a kiss, or even friendship. True love, the kind that heals, came with a sacrifice.<br>
<br>
The cold gets to me. I struggle in the cold. My muscles and joints hurt. I hate the feeling of not being able to get warm. But even if I am struggling with the atmosphere outside, the inside of me is warm, because the sacrifice has been made already. Anna's sacrifice for her sister is simply an animated example (sort of) of what has already been done for us. Jesus already gave himself up so we could live eternally. He didn't turn to ice and then magically become thawed and healed. He died. He overcame the grave. He rose again. He bears the scars... and those scars still exist today.<br>
<br>The cold outside is a big topic of conversation on social media. Pipes are freezing and bursting. Cars don’t want to start. Inside my humble little apartment, we are enjoying the last of our Christmas break. The decorations are coming down from our holiday celebrations. My ten year old came home from playing with a friend, and she was sad that the decorations were being boxed up once again, to wait until next year. <br>
<br>
"The Christmas decorations getting put away means that the Christmas spirit is gone." She sulked.<br>
<br>
"No," I told her "The Spirit of Christmas is actually the Spirit of Jesus. He is always with us." I told her. <br>
<br>
But is He? With the bitter cold outside, I realized how often our faith can feel as cold as the Arctic winter weather outside my door. We have hurts, frustrations, grief. We are wounded, broken vessels so much of the time. Like Anna in Frozen, how many of us believe that we can be healed by a person or things, endlessly searching for something that will warm us, for a passion that is bigger than us, for something or someone that can consume us? We see the cold around us, the dark that comes too early, and long for the warmth and green of Spring.<br>
<br>
Rest assured, Spring will come. The earth rests in winter, but that doesn't mean that in its center isn't a ball of fire and magma. That doesn't mean that warmer weather isn't coming. In our times of early dark and bitter cold, we may long to hibernate and protect ourselves.<br>
<br>
There are times in our walk with God when we feel that we are in the midst of bitter, bone-chilling cold; when our hearts feel like ice and the warmth seems like it will never arrive again. We see day after day of that same cold, and we try to warm ourselves, but the cold still awaits, just outside the door. As long as we are uncomfortable with the cold, we will seek His warmth. Be careful about feeling numb. Be careful, because damage is occurring. Stay cold enough long enough, and it can lead to death. </div><div><br>
We forget, when the snow piles up and the mercury drops, that the center of the earth is a flaming fire. And we forget that that at the center of our faith, no matter how we feel, is another flaming fire.<br>
<br>
<i>"For our God is a consuming fire." Hebrews 12:29</i><br>
<br>
A red-hot fire awaits us, waiting to warm us, waiting to fill us, longing to melt the ice in our hearts and set our soul ablaze... with Him, for Him. He has already sacrificed Himself for us. He has already caused a blaze around the world, and it has continued to burn for centuries. And He longs to burn in us, to burn away the waste in our life that takes away from His simple grace. He longs to burn away the cold in us left by disappointments, by wounds, by grief, and fill us with Himself, to consume us with His fire.<div>
<i> </i><br>
"You are Holy. You are worthy. You are Holy. You're the Lamb of God." Sings out from my bluetooth speaker, as Tenth Avenue North fills my home. The cold seeps in as the last of the decorations are stored for next Christmas in our outside storage closet. I am reminded that the cold may try to invade, but God is inside me, and He isn't so easily frozen out. He is a flame, a burning flame, just waiting to kindle to life and burn away the dross, the worthless, the junk, the things that attempt to freeze my heart and clutter my mind. <br>
<br>
God's fire is a force that is difficult to defeat. The wind of the Holy Spirit spreads the flame of fire from person to person. It grows in people until they are consumed. Their lives are never the same. The fire touches hearts, thoughts, actions, words, and destinies. The fire of God is a force to be reckoned with, greater than any wildfire, spreading through nations, a fire that laws or oppression or even persecution can't stop. It is the fire that comes from the greatest sacrifice. </div><div><br></div><div>Take precautions against the cold. Change your environment for a bit. Don’t stand in the snow and wind, but seek a warm shelter. Dress appropriately by putting on your armor. May your stocking cap be you helmet of salvation, your coat your breastplate, your boots your shoes of peace and so forth. Fuel yourself with the warming comfort foods of praise, worship, and the Word of God. You will find, as you do these things, that the numbness will leave. </div><div><br></div><div>I have a warning: The return of sensation and feeling after being cold and numb can be painful at first. If damage has occurred while you were numb, this is when it will be discovered. Rest assured that Jesus can heal any wounds, but they still might require attention. It is easier to feel numb than to deal with why you went cold and numb. When the numbness is gone, you then have to deal with the wounds, the grief, the hurts, the pain. </div><div><br></div><div>There are seasons of life, both on the Earth and in our journey with the Lord. Winters are often the hardest for many of us. Seasonal affective disorder means that the dark and cold can get to us emotionally. Our mood plummets. Sometimes, the cold in our hearts comes from fighting the darkness and apathy around us for too long. It drags us down. But light up your world. Put the light of Jesus around you in the dark, like candles and fairy lights. Let His Word and His presence bathe you in soft comfort. Let His fire glow inside you, bringing warmth and light like a fireplace, chasing away the cold and dark.</div><div><br></div><div>Intentionally light the fire. </div><div><br></div><div>And know that until Spring comes with her warmth and new life, the fire of God is inside you, powerful enough to fuel fuel your faith and thaw your frozen, numb heart. </div><div>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<i> </i><br>
<br>
</div></div>www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1225445763622555442.post-50629610774249723282018-01-01T23:08:00.001-08:002018-01-01T23:08:29.756-08:00Prayers<img id="id_18ca_1746_9c86_3fce" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifK0gEHq6H835R8b5DwrZPG018g8ixKhPH54XsNEfdiXH05WpCNAXHHD9osbhX_GRDUpSm3P-LHhZ72gw00oKXMM79L5J3wciefthkkbdW5eOa8z0Um1z08ENHqyzzhhxzEws4f40LQH0Y/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 338px; height: auto; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; display: block;">I used to go on a fast at the beginning of each year. Then, after celiac changed my diet drastically, I stopped. It was so difficult to be restricted all year long and then add even more I shouldn’t be eating. <div><br></div><div>This year, I feel myself drawn to setting the stage for the rest of the year. After all, there are many things that need prayer. So much this last year was so difficult, and I feel as if my family is in bondage. The health issues have been tough, but the spiritual and mental battles may surpass even the health ones. </div><div><br></div><div>Whether I go on an outright fast or not isn’t the issue. That is between me and God, but I do feel that I must take some time to really focus on my prayer life and my relationship with the Lord. I have been so broken, so weak, for such a long time. Even more, I see my family slipping further and further away from the Lord in the slow fade that leads to death.</div><div><br></div><div>But my reactions have not exactly been helpful. Reacting emotionally, I have done all the “wrong” things. </div><div><br></div><div>We have a week before my girls begin school and two weeks before I begin college classes again. So I am going to take this time to truly seek the heart of the Lord for this year, my family, the struggles we have endured as well as those to come, and my spiritual condition. Despite being concerned about the spiritual conditions of loved ones, I can’t give away what I don’t have. And lately I have been riding a roller coaster of ups and downs that have left me nauseous (especially when combined with all the Christmas treats). </div><div><br></div><div>My attention has been scattered for a long time. I overloaded myself and life threw a bunch of obstacles at me this last year that brought me literally to my knees. And so, this year, I know I simply can’t go on this way. I need to get back my fire for Him. I need to feel Him with me as I face the future. </div><div><br></div><div>I cried many silent tears, alone, despairing at how overwhelmed I have been at... well... everything. I have focused on the anxiety others close to me are battling, ignoring the fact that mine is causing massive issues. I lost my hope in the midst of the darkness that accompanied this past year. </div><div><br></div><div>I have made very few New Year’s resolutions. Getting my heart right with the Lord again is first. Second is to write and write and write, because I process information and heal in my writing. Third would be to embrace the introvert in me instead of trying to change her to compete with anyone else, only to feel less than. God made me a certain way, and it is time to stop feeling like that isn’t enough.</div><div><br></div><div>Here’s to 2018... a year of new beginnings... a year of prayer... and a year of hope.</div>www.homemissionfield.blogspot.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17568367939452024887noreply@blogger.com0