tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82349543916438209612024-02-06T23:36:25.192-08:00Joyful (or should it be Happy?!) Mother of 9! (And, yes, they're ALL mine!)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452349433999258830noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234954391643820961.post-46232975769756439332014-02-02T08:21:00.002-08:002014-02-02T08:21:16.827-08:00Focusing on LoveEvery year, for as long as I can remember, I have tried (emphasis on <i>tried</i>) to read the Bible through in a year. And I am not sure I can remember accomplishing that goal even one time--a fact that has left me riddled with guilt -- day after day, year after year. Even when I am faithfully reading my Bible, I'm not really spending time with my Maker because of one of two reasons:<br />
<br />
1. I'm feeling guilty about not being "caught up" and am madly rushing through the required reading. OR<br />
2. I am "caught up" and feels so good about myself (aka "self righteous") that I don't get anything out of it because of all the pride swelling up inside me.<br />
<br />
Maybe I'm the only one who has ever felt this way, but it is something that I have wrestled and struggled with for quite some time. So after another year in 2013 of said failure, I started rethinking my approach to this quiet time with my God. Does He require me to read through the Bible each year? Is that the <u>only</u> way He will truly be happy and well-pleased with me? I certainly hope not!<br />
<br />
You see, I have been the mother of small children for more than 16 years now. Time is a precious commodity in the realm of Motherhood. Then factor in sick or fussy children, sleepless nights rendering you a barely functioning modicum of a person, piles of dishes, mountains of laundry, cooking three meals per day, cleaning those toilets and sinks and floors, kissing boo boos, reading books, doctor's appointments, dentist appointments, bike rides, walks, trips to the library and the park and the grocery store, and now this precious commodity becomes a rare and priceless gem. Something akin to a diamond really. At least it sometimes (okay, most times :) seems to be that elusive.<br />
<br />
So I find myself thinking that all of the people who have ever told me indirectly through preaching or whatever that I'm not "right with God" if I don't read my Bible through every year might not have it right. Perhaps they didn't mean the words as my mind interpreted them. Perhaps the blame lies with me. I don't know.<br />
<br />
Since Jesus left His home in Heaven to dwell among men, the Christian life is no longer simply a set of rules as it was in the Old Testament. I am not against rules. I think they are necessary and even important, as they establish boundaries and guidelines. With the birth, life, death, burial, and resurrection of Christ came the ability and freedom to have a relationship with Christ. Relationships must have boundaries, but the relationship is not defined by those boundaries. Truth be told, if the relationship is a strong and healthy one, the boundaries will never be needed. If my relationship with Jesus is what it should be, I will be drawn to Him. Demanding of myself to "read through the Bible in a year" has not produced a strong, healthy relationship with Christ, which is what I am seeking.<br />
<br />
Maybe a pastor or someone in full-time Christian service has several hours a day to devote to Bible reading and can read through the four required chapters plus have extra time to follow "rabbit trails". As a mother of many little people, I don't have that luxury. Most days, I'm trying to cram a few minutes in my Bible while I'm hiding in the bathroom! That's my reality.<br />
<br />
So this year, I am following my heart and what I think God is telling me to do. There are so many specific areas of my life that I need to work on, not to mention areas that I am prompted to teach my children. So I have started this year with a word study on <i>love</i>. I have spent years focusing on my bad character traits and qualities and trying to eradicate them by dwelling on them all of the time. This year, God has changed my focus from <i>MY</i> <b>bad</b> qualities to <i>HIS</i> <b>good</b> qualities. I am also reading through Psalms and Proverbs and the New Testament as I have time. <br />
<br />
And do you know what? I am <i style="font-weight: bold;">LOVING</i> <i style="font-weight: bold;">IT!!!</i> I am having the time of my life. God is speaking to me and showing me things because I have slowed down a little. It's not a race. It's a relationship. Let God guide you in your relationship with Him.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452349433999258830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234954391643820961.post-57747237922788248552013-09-19T12:37:00.005-07:002013-09-19T12:37:58.031-07:00Faith vs. Fear<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We recently had a ladies conference at our church. And to just be real transparent, I didn't want to go. The reason I didn't want to go isn't spiritual at all, it's really quite fleshly, but I'll still let you in on the secret: I didn't want to go because I didn't have anybody to BE with! (My 16 year old daughter was attending, but, of course, she wanted to be with her friends. And I didn't want to "guilt" her into being with mom.) Finally, after much internal struggling with God, I decided He wanted me to not only go but to ask a newer lady in our church to sit with me. She had decided (unbeknownst to me) that she wasn't going to go either! But when I asked her to sit with me, she decided to go as well. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway, our special speaker this year was Amy Vassak, from <a href="http://www.nbcdanbury.org/main.html" target="_blank">Northeast Baptist Church</a> in Danbury, CT, where her husband is the pastor.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.nbcdanbury.org/main.html" target="_blank"><img src="data:image/jpeg;base64,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" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She spoke twice to all the ladies and then during some split sessions. Her session on marriage dealt with <span style="color: purple;">Faith vs. Fear</span>, something I had already been dealing with in my own life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Faith vs. Fear </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">is my new "self talk." Do you talk to yourself? I unashamedly talk to myself. Maybe it's an only child thing, I'm not sure. But I talk to myself quite often. Now I don't stand in front of the mirror talking to myself like I did when I was a child, and I very seldom answer myself, but I make a habit of talking to myself. Especially when my thinking is all messed up, which is quite often.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have been married now for 17 years, and our marriage has not been without its difficulties. I can choose to worry about where my husband is, what he's doing, who he's with. OR I can choose to have faith that God will take care of Him, and I can PRAY for my husband.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Faith</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">or</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fear</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am the mother of 9 children ranging in age from 16 to 7 months. I can choose to worry about my children when they are away from me. I can worry that they will make wrong choices. I can worry about what they are doing, who they are with, what they are thinking, whether or not they are safe, etc. OR I can choose to have faith that God will take care of them, and I can PRAY for my children.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Faith</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">or</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fear</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Maybe you come from a "model family," but I don't, and I'm not one bit sorry about that because I have learned so many life lessons as a result. Sometimes in my mixed-up, crazy life one or several relationships will get "out-of-sorts." It's been happening for as long as I can remember. And usually these relationship struggles get resolved at some point or another. I have allowed myself to fret and worry about these relationships at different points in my life. I have lamented the fact that they were not what they should be. But I am learning that there is only so much one person can do in repairing broken relationships. Relationships take two people. When I have finally given my broken relationships to God, He has taken them and made them into something that I could never have imagined. I have seen Him do it firsthand! Why do I worry? Who do I fear?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Faith</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">or</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fear</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is something I struggle with on a daily, if not hourly, basis! I find my "self talk" times being characterized by Faith or Fear.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">FAITH = Praying</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">FEAR = Worrying</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;">Why don't you start talking to yourself? (Most of us do anyways!) Tell yourself to have Faith and not Fear! Post signs around your house that say "Faith OVER Fear." Your mind can only think one thought at a time, so make that thought one of Faith and not one of Fear!</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQm9OK22fHA_4DpCPFtCJ_MRY2faFvWtK7gWqSKvbChb7Fwk0YqUpZhTCxMbL1x10jAMVjPQU7Cnj2jDGvdCcimfhzGyGStKRPJPy00WrbmgLKA6wLOS-sVOENaE3XLH0D0Y8fKLngcY/s1600/Faith+vs.+Fear+Printable.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQm9OK22fHA_4DpCPFtCJ_MRY2faFvWtK7gWqSKvbChb7Fwk0YqUpZhTCxMbL1x10jAMVjPQU7Cnj2jDGvdCcimfhzGyGStKRPJPy00WrbmgLKA6wLOS-sVOENaE3XLH0D0Y8fKLngcY/s1600/Faith+vs.+Fear+Printable.jpg" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452349433999258830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234954391643820961.post-12565380762054466512013-09-05T11:47:00.001-07:002013-09-05T11:47:54.127-07:00Oh, Be Careful!<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh, be careful little eyes what you see.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh, be careful little eyes what you see.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
For the Father up above</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Is looking down in love.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So be careful little eyes what you see.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
There are other verses to that quite familiar children's Sunday school song that involve the ears hearing, hands touching, and feet walking. After reading an article this morning about teen girls posting sensual pictures of themselves on Facebook, I have been thinking about online media in general all day. I can't get it out of my mind.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
As the mother of 4 sons, one of whom is now nearly 15, I am constantly walking guard around things like internet access, magazines that make their way into our home, television viewing and the like (even sale papers). It's a battle. A battle that I am willing to fight for the sake of my boys.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
But, what about me? What do I allow my own self to view via internet, television, books, magazines, etc.? Isn't it just as important that I guard my own eye and ear gate? </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
But, it's not just what I allow myself to look at or read. It's also what I allow myself to type or say. As a mother of three teenagers and six more coming behind them, I am well aware of some certain facts. Teenagers like to communicate with each other all of the time. More so now than when I was a teenager, I think. I didn't even want to talk much on the phone to my friends. Whatever I needed to say to them could usually wait until I saw them the next day at school or church or an activity. But nowadays, our teens want to be constantly connected to one another. And I really don't like it all that much.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
There's something about not being face to face with someone that empowers us. We get bold. We say things on the phone we would never say in person. And we TYPE things in text messages and on the computer that we would never dream of saying over the phone, let alone face to face. It's frightening to me.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I have a Facebook account, but my children do not. Neither does my husband. Anyone they want to be friends with will be added to my account. And we keep strict guidelines around our Facebook Newsfeed. We have hundreds of friends, but many of them are hidden. If someone is constantly critical, we hide them. If someone shares opinions that my children are not ready to see or that are simply depressing, we hide them. If someone uses foul language, we hide them. If someone posts an inappropriate picture, we hide them. Do you get the idea? My Facebook feed is largely coupons, blogs, family and a few friends. That's it. Everyone else is hidden!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I have seen wives openly criticize their husbands on Facebook. I have seen people defame someone else's character. I have seen vulgarity. Why do we allow ourselves to be an open book for the entire world to see? Where is our sense of decency as a nation? What has happened to us? We live in an "everybody-needs-to-know-everything" society, and I think things have gotten out of control. But it's our own faults. It starts with me. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
If I'm having a bad day, no posting unless it's positive. If'I hear that somebody did something unthinkable, no posting about it. Maybe I did have a fight with my husband. Maybe my kids are being rotten. Maybe so-and-so did something terrible. Maybe my church has a flaw. Maybe my neighbor did this or that. Some things should still be private. Somebody needs to teach our children what is public and what is private. Just because we CAN, doesn't mean we SHOULD.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Since my children are getting older, I have really begun to analyze what I do, why I do it, and if it would make me proud to see my children doing it as well.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNhSwn8wejai8CjmOvGNCNmwT1g2SUmG-SdcFWl2SJxfxRYSsP8BpJMk-hZJU-MisLXaWpi-o_grkldrtqyPR7rvxwHoZVNdnIs2vpuOdLLNN2AOPIAetYSH_lNb590rTS1Q8f93qk9UI/s1600/IMG_20130903_080207_530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNhSwn8wejai8CjmOvGNCNmwT1g2SUmG-SdcFWl2SJxfxRYSsP8BpJMk-hZJU-MisLXaWpi-o_grkldrtqyPR7rvxwHoZVNdnIs2vpuOdLLNN2AOPIAetYSH_lNb590rTS1Q8f93qk9UI/s320/IMG_20130903_080207_530.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
First Day of School</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Grades: 11th, 10th, 8th, 6th, 4th, 2nd, K5</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggATmeXualr98IKRIYwAWOh0Ic8xGTUp-xArgKa-N1WsmTOhbZhfMk2o5RiZbh6Sjf-oP1K8_Bjrat770dpmWzQ5oKXE_6i0vmbvm1OAcmoH49dxoHQH3_pTHcIVAfq5Qq-kD2JhgZvBg/s1600/IMG_20130903_080213_999.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggATmeXualr98IKRIYwAWOh0Ic8xGTUp-xArgKa-N1WsmTOhbZhfMk2o5RiZbh6Sjf-oP1K8_Bjrat770dpmWzQ5oKXE_6i0vmbvm1OAcmoH49dxoHQH3_pTHcIVAfq5Qq-kD2JhgZvBg/s320/IMG_20130903_080213_999.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452349433999258830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234954391643820961.post-15507267146572218782013-08-06T15:26:00.001-07:002013-08-06T15:26:53.752-07:00Just Say Yes!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I grew up in the 70's and 80's. I remember when Nike came out with the "Just say no" slogan. I took it to heart. I said no to the drugs and the drinking and all the bad things. And I continue to practice that idea now in my parenting, but "Just say no" isn't a great parenting slogan to live by!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPiVoJosfPGLd7DTu7c31bM4b5aIUagFmmILh7XdfDhDv6iUhDx2Cgs91pn7bFuoIDCXLWVEfbSqksF1Sucs_PYV-Nm7V_pHThKSpFSnevOYK78onVf_9PcpS2Yi_umQvAfwrOWjvAia0/s1600/1004661_691393087543650_2015226647_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPiVoJosfPGLd7DTu7c31bM4b5aIUagFmmILh7XdfDhDv6iUhDx2Cgs91pn7bFuoIDCXLWVEfbSqksF1Sucs_PYV-Nm7V_pHThKSpFSnevOYK78onVf_9PcpS2Yi_umQvAfwrOWjvAia0/s320/1004661_691393087543650_2015226647_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As a mother of 9, I find that I say "no". A lot. All the time. Then I saw this quote posted on Facebook by a friend, and I started thinking about it. Quite a bit. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Why, exactly, do I say <i>no</i> so often? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have discovered that I often say <i>no</i> because I am being selfish. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't want to deal with the mess. </div>
<div>
I don't want to be embarrassed. </div>
<div>
I don't want to be inconvenienced. </div>
<div>
I want my life to be stress- and hassle-free. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Well, as much as that's possible with 9 children, a dog, 6 snakes, a lizard, 7 hamsters, a turtle, several frogs....You get the idea!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Of course, there are things that we have to say <i>no</i> to sometimes. For their well-being, for their safety, because they're wrong, etc.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But I want to say <i>YES!</i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
Yes to...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Mommy, can I wear my church shoes in the house?</div>
<div>
Can you play a game with me?</div>
<div>
Can I paint?</div>
<div>
Can we go for a walk?</div>
<div>
Can I help you make dinner?</div>
<div>
Do you want to sit on the swing?</div>
<div>
Can I wear my rain boots {on a 90 degree day to the store with shorts. oh, and they have paint splattered on them}</div>
<div>
Can I go out to eat with my friends?</div>
<div>
Can I water your flowers?</div>
<div>
Can I go to the store with you?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
YES, YES, YES!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I want them to grow up feeling loved, don't I? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Just say <i>YES!</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452349433999258830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234954391643820961.post-21785973739291418162013-07-25T07:09:00.001-07:002013-07-25T07:09:44.711-07:00New Beginnings<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do you ever wake up one morning and just decide that you want things to be different than they are? Right now?! That's how I felt yesterday morning. When I woke up, I knew a change needed to happen and happen quickly. For me. A change in my head and in my heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, I hopped out of bed, threw on some workout clothes, put on the headphones, and walked out the door. I started running again. Oh, mind you, I am not at the point of doing much actual running, I usually do more walking. But I started it up again. I'm using the Couch to 5K phone app. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And when I got home, I felt great. So I decided to go a step further and stop eating grains. All grains. I did that a year ago and felt so good. My body just seemed to function better overall. So I made the change. Without much forethought or premeditation. I just did it. And today I added 50 crunches to the mix. And I feel really great about pushing myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Change can be scary, but we live in a world of change, especially if we have children. I have 3 teenagers now, and I know that big changes are just around the corner for our family. While it frightens me a bit, I'm excited as well. Excited for them. They have their whole lives ahead of them, and it's my job to make sure they're ready! Wow! What an awesome responsibility.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I'm changing. For today and for the future.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEGjVXdZmPlhtN8laPc96H8qaMFoJMTgRrwkhnpdAOUzxbJG2nLTHU48Dx_5rXgUcQQZIiFFore4q-t3W1TyZW113uF3-nYuQZITG_FiXbObfuqFQP0FvJ61OY6DknYIPzdGPyqZIKhYo/s1600/IMG_20130720_155010_600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEGjVXdZmPlhtN8laPc96H8qaMFoJMTgRrwkhnpdAOUzxbJG2nLTHU48Dx_5rXgUcQQZIiFFore4q-t3W1TyZW113uF3-nYuQZITG_FiXbObfuqFQP0FvJ61OY6DknYIPzdGPyqZIKhYo/s320/IMG_20130720_155010_600.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452349433999258830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234954391643820961.post-84503335789205654472013-07-20T07:19:00.001-07:002013-07-20T07:19:16.912-07:00Light In The Tunnel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHU7R41PPp-X8sVqEQ95JMaB0Lo_qB7EFO7zVhHnom7-Tw7Hkw08s3NjZqHzeowT4Cs7JpFeVQFAbiBSChlFWC_EVT69RRedIZKWUipdqsaw0GVghg-Zw_a0mdLMsFVhm-73mkaXXdyTg/s1600/899516_10201204305577300_1399475955_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHU7R41PPp-X8sVqEQ95JMaB0Lo_qB7EFO7zVhHnom7-Tw7Hkw08s3NjZqHzeowT4Cs7JpFeVQFAbiBSChlFWC_EVT69RRedIZKWUipdqsaw0GVghg-Zw_a0mdLMsFVhm-73mkaXXdyTg/s400/899516_10201204305577300_1399475955_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
I have had what I consider to be a pretty "normal" week. I haven't had one of those in a long time. I mean that I felt like me. Maybe you can't understand that, but I'm ecstatic about it! I'm beginning to see the light. I have had an extremely tough year. It started in about June of last year. But if I'm going to be honest, it started quite a few years prior to that and came to a head in June. I've struggled. I've been depressed. I've been angry. I just haven't felt like me. But I didn't give up. That's the important thing.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And I didn't try to fake it, either. During my college years, I often heard the teaching, "Fake it 'til you make it!" And I, like probably most of the other girls, thought it sounded like a good idea. Now I'm not so sure that it IS a good idea. If I fake it, am I trying to tell myself that there really isn't a problem when there clearly is? Am I trying to look to others like there isn't a problem and I don't need help, when I clearly do? I'm not sure what the point or purpose of faking it is, but even if I thought it was a good idea, I couldn't have done it. Not this time. This time the problems were just too big. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
You see, sometimes we just need the support of others. They don't have to know the specifics of anything, but our vulnerability allows others to love us in a way that they couldn't if we were pretending, or faking. It's okay to show our weaknesses sometimes. We just shouldn't wallow in them. We shouldn't allow our weaknesses and trials to define who we are. We should turn to God and allow Him to grow us through our trial. That's what I did.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I listened to music almost non-stop for months on end. I read my Bible constantly. I read a book over and over that helped me. And I prayed. I prayed for the situation. I'm still praying for the situation. It's a problem that won't be just disappearing. But that's okay because God is helping me through it. And I am growing. And this week, I finally felt like myself again.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452349433999258830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234954391643820961.post-88955064699862564402013-07-20T07:03:00.001-07:002013-07-20T07:03:54.369-07:00The Best Week Ever!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We have had one of the best weeks that I can ever remember as a family! It was hot here. Well, hot for Northern Michigan, anyway. We had several days in the high 80's. We have no air conditioning in the house and no pool, so we met Daddy and the boys at the lake 3 days in a row. What fun! We played and rode the jet ski and just had loads of fun.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVyTNtP_SFDaDgemujJINDvRp7vfmowPu4NNm9VZLT6HG607bFXmoFSXWFU22D4AZTU7TmA92pPbv9l_1ZfngcThLXHLxHGDz1NV1OMOQCBWapC_cHZ1hsnQFGRSRjFbuE2KFPpbp1bY/s1600/851923_10201204306257317_1494421223_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVyTNtP_SFDaDgemujJINDvRp7vfmowPu4NNm9VZLT6HG607bFXmoFSXWFU22D4AZTU7TmA92pPbv9l_1ZfngcThLXHLxHGDz1NV1OMOQCBWapC_cHZ1hsnQFGRSRjFbuE2KFPpbp1bY/s320/851923_10201204306257317_1494421223_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJLx-MHW67m-L-SYocqOuAYg4_sFsGupnVfF8_x_7b989fjwxbOvzxNynfqEA-kwnM5NZNhwwT13RZvzmOjQZiBt1XJAgKsH9tTF-OS71b0vKBSRafn796ynfxC1PGwcthdZqfEuOz2iM/s1600/899516_10201204305577300_1399475955_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJLx-MHW67m-L-SYocqOuAYg4_sFsGupnVfF8_x_7b989fjwxbOvzxNynfqEA-kwnM5NZNhwwT13RZvzmOjQZiBt1XJAgKsH9tTF-OS71b0vKBSRafn796ynfxC1PGwcthdZqfEuOz2iM/s320/899516_10201204305577300_1399475955_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Then, our little town has a festival every year downtown. Our kids wanted to go, but we have never taken them because of the sheer cost of paying for so many children to ride rides, so we told the girls we didn't have the money to go. Next thing I know, they are out on the corner selling lemonade and water bottles to passersby. And they made $80. Enough money to pay for 5 children to get wrist bands and ride rides for 5 hours at Alpenfest. Boy did they have fun! I love their determined attitude that says, "I can figure out a way to make this happen!"</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqaWYKTzYZOQ5MreBetH0Q3EhydF4r3pr-Ips6HELmVdn-3wigwDN1s9VdXgdQFBRqNmtaChc1LXwQOZTg94OQt_QVXpfAz58cWFMLzx9WKOJxCkjVdq9gTO-K0yr6Mee0cNvBP0j6ko/s1600/1065852_10201211071746450_476750103_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqaWYKTzYZOQ5MreBetH0Q3EhydF4r3pr-Ips6HELmVdn-3wigwDN1s9VdXgdQFBRqNmtaChc1LXwQOZTg94OQt_QVXpfAz58cWFMLzx9WKOJxCkjVdq9gTO-K0yr6Mee0cNvBP0j6ko/s320/1065852_10201211071746450_476750103_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioIz-d2xAJoAmD0wmDJWv7fRizlzC819fX6WKGJn37O8esZLd1Q7Qnc507kltc_dRYxp0GnXEZMIJoz3m3aZ4dIktQggUy65LRxAGLTiL0rjDtTcNsA8z5UsL4cxtuo0g_UQELt_RYcRA/s1600/1066724_10201212447460842_2109856845_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioIz-d2xAJoAmD0wmDJWv7fRizlzC819fX6WKGJn37O8esZLd1Q7Qnc507kltc_dRYxp0GnXEZMIJoz3m3aZ4dIktQggUy65LRxAGLTiL0rjDtTcNsA8z5UsL4cxtuo0g_UQELt_RYcRA/s320/1066724_10201212447460842_2109856845_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBArOYuI7kb8M3F2o7aL0d0uYxCxRSecoFh5Fey3B0D-_5rzkP7PcyXvYWMBz63uI3YMuQg7UlsE-CA4BKQcLF8ImGzhilaiKyLeCGeVDWNdT4id9IVMH9M08-2hAkBuM02bBpC3HBfc/s1600/1066742_10201211523597746_593133561_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBArOYuI7kb8M3F2o7aL0d0uYxCxRSecoFh5Fey3B0D-_5rzkP7PcyXvYWMBz63uI3YMuQg7UlsE-CA4BKQcLF8ImGzhilaiKyLeCGeVDWNdT4id9IVMH9M08-2hAkBuM02bBpC3HBfc/s320/1066742_10201211523597746_593133561_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc7gCCpTAsYeLYVsjWX6Rpaa4TpULPJac0l7mxsB4I491dOIutnmpRoCrbk5t_tgr2JdFH6Onn9IrlPW8iFAQPMctdO1mJ1QnXOygnI441K5yfdF65x_9o_DM02f0JoYkqfwpzi3bA0sY/s1600/1070427_10201204305937309_384326261_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc7gCCpTAsYeLYVsjWX6Rpaa4TpULPJac0l7mxsB4I491dOIutnmpRoCrbk5t_tgr2JdFH6Onn9IrlPW8iFAQPMctdO1mJ1QnXOygnI441K5yfdF65x_9o_DM02f0JoYkqfwpzi3bA0sY/s320/1070427_10201204305937309_384326261_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIbTeu_Gn3w32PlsQV89KVGfdpQvy5CJh8ivVmPDLilXmsHKr9BG-q7-NdS4VxCeCl_jTySDzs3GHFDJE8zQJbxT6t_pZR8nvIbZEHudo9DGQWaUwTkcdfluCw6LbsmKr-JZdrcE_0_W0/s1600/1070529_10201210869541395_1898705737_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIbTeu_Gn3w32PlsQV89KVGfdpQvy5CJh8ivVmPDLilXmsHKr9BG-q7-NdS4VxCeCl_jTySDzs3GHFDJE8zQJbxT6t_pZR8nvIbZEHudo9DGQWaUwTkcdfluCw6LbsmKr-JZdrcE_0_W0/s320/1070529_10201210869541395_1898705737_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvQ6rlbaykrr6PoCTaMqntB2Q3xQBGh9DyqXh9BjcVeM53l94RmpIzpoKlmdkvsBCIN6cJO3MBWn4b-HTaLUNgbKVfdXSgvF1dDT1S-X6n1yTZ9IsSdttXJtjXJPy5tD90PboVdxdEQhQ/s1600/1070820_10201211030905429_1086930391_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvQ6rlbaykrr6PoCTaMqntB2Q3xQBGh9DyqXh9BjcVeM53l94RmpIzpoKlmdkvsBCIN6cJO3MBWn4b-HTaLUNgbKVfdXSgvF1dDT1S-X6n1yTZ9IsSdttXJtjXJPy5tD90PboVdxdEQhQ/s320/1070820_10201211030905429_1086930391_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The wind blew or something, and that elephant ear attacked him!</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhppkDdtM50k312FNq1VHO6Vw4ruMkgl-Wpyhm3vNNIf54UpgKWQar1QzRiWQiNHzXqowVayD7t-4KD0l5J_CzYTrOvwEhbA3nk13RR-x-DkfByeS_KBUNMom1KdmdZXGEkFzr7lab5N4M/s1600/1071561_10201211093706999_1137857469_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhppkDdtM50k312FNq1VHO6Vw4ruMkgl-Wpyhm3vNNIf54UpgKWQar1QzRiWQiNHzXqowVayD7t-4KD0l5J_CzYTrOvwEhbA3nk13RR-x-DkfByeS_KBUNMom1KdmdZXGEkFzr7lab5N4M/s320/1071561_10201211093706999_1137857469_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu5e9ovsQObAbL-RHCBG-s0o3pdGg86uWX0ZvabFUzc75_O_PdavJCXgSVJoc5ZpKEoXeWHxKMrBy7qtOe1TlER3r60g27hl5cwg98LV2YOX_L_jC4ZLXEEuzQWomVAXWR2OGjI6Bjkgw/s1600/1065875_10201211469996406_2107251822_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu5e9ovsQObAbL-RHCBG-s0o3pdGg86uWX0ZvabFUzc75_O_PdavJCXgSVJoc5ZpKEoXeWHxKMrBy7qtOe1TlER3r60g27hl5cwg98LV2YOX_L_jC4ZLXEEuzQWomVAXWR2OGjI6Bjkgw/s320/1065875_10201211469996406_2107251822_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452349433999258830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234954391643820961.post-61555178773131830872013-07-13T13:53:00.000-07:002013-07-13T13:53:17.173-07:00A Good Read<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't you just love cuddling up with a good story? I do! But that's not the kind of book I'm reading right now. Instead I'm reading a self-help book of sorts. </span><div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Boundaries-When-Take-Control-Your/dp/0310585902/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1373748692&sr=8-1&keywords=boundaries" target="_blank"><img alt="Product Details" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/21-zgS7KMKL._SL160_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-dp,TopRight,12,-18_SH30_OU01_AA160_.jpg" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm only about 1/6 of the way through the book, but it is really helping me to be able to see myself in a new light. My friend has been recommending this book to me for several weeks now, and I didn't want to listen. Who knows why. Sometimes we don't want to admit that we have a problem in a certain area or areas. But often others can see our problems much more clearly than we can. The key is being open in our spirits enough to allow someone else to point out those problems without getting "prickly." </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't want to be unapproachable. Someone recently told me that I was, and I didn't like it one bit. (Here's me being completely transparent with whoever wants to read about it! ;) And, to be honest, I don't think they were completely accurate, but I did think about what they said. I thought about it, tried to discern if there were any truth in it, and then decided that there was at least a smidgen of truth in there. When I feel hurt, I tend to be unapproachable. That's not a good thing, but I don't know how to fix it just yet. I'm working on it.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And this book is one of the ways I'm working on it. I think that we all need certain boundaries in our lives. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, if you're up for a good read, and you have relationships that need some help, this book just might be for you!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452349433999258830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234954391643820961.post-85883292255885642182013-07-09T11:27:00.000-07:002013-07-09T11:27:05.644-07:00It Doesn't Have To Be PerfectI am a perfectionist. And I'm an only child. So, basically, I like for everything to be done right. Which really means that I want it to be done my way. Haha! Right. I have 9 children. And a very busy husband. So...<br />
<br />
I have learned to just "let it go." <br />
<br />
If you have a large family you have to learn to do that. At least to a certain degree. <br />
<br />
When I wake up in the morning I like to walk through a perfectly clean house. Everything in its place. It gives a fresh start to my day. It makes me feel like I can conquer the world. But the truth is that rarely happens. And I'm okay with that. Now.<br />
<br />
But, I still hang on to the fact that certain things in my life have to be "perfect" in order for me to feel good about life. This idea isn't right either. It's not true. <br />
<br />
I woke up this morning. All of my children were healthy. My husband was hard at work. I had food to eat. God blessed me. Again. And I didn't even ask for it.<br />
<br />
My world does not have to be perfect because He is.<br />
<br />
I can breathe easy.<br />
<br />
Enjoy <b><i>your</i></b> imperfect world today!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxgYbm8T47FqyvLWxTax4fUVnHCOHFOJyKR2_hpvrlINL12rD7CyOVP4e-96RdS_CByvcNtzxnUGXcvyB54wxzynOJZ8fr4UfG3llyv7vZU0a8xXipa3hSWeuQfpncbGx-TVVbm9boWEw/s1600/photo+2+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxgYbm8T47FqyvLWxTax4fUVnHCOHFOJyKR2_hpvrlINL12rD7CyOVP4e-96RdS_CByvcNtzxnUGXcvyB54wxzynOJZ8fr4UfG3llyv7vZU0a8xXipa3hSWeuQfpncbGx-TVVbm9boWEw/s320/photo+2+(2).JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452349433999258830noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234954391643820961.post-26352339608704330672013-07-06T07:10:00.000-07:002013-07-09T19:07:29.860-07:00Is it Happiness? OR Is it Joy?<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">I am in love with words. I always have been. From the time I was a little girl, I loved to read. To this day, once I start reading a book, I have a hard time doing anything else until that book has been devoured. (This can be a pretty bad thing when there are 10 other people plus numerous animals in the house who need taking care of while I am lost in another world!) As a lover of words, I often desire to know the exact definition of a word, or at least the closest definition to the original as I can get, so I love to reference<a href="http://1828.mshaffer.com/"> </a></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><a href="http://1828.mshaffer.com/">Webster's 1828 Dictionary</a></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">So, according to Webster's 1828, <i>happiness</i> is "the agreeable sensations which spring from the enjoyment of good; that state of a being in which his desires are gratified by the enjoyment of pleasure without pain. Happiness expresses less than felicity, and felicity less than bliss. Happiness is comparative. To a person distressed with pain, relief from that pain affords happiness; positive pleasure; agreeable sensations. Happiness admits of indefinite degrees of increase of enjoyment, or gratification of desires."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><i>Joy</i> is "the passion or emotion excited by the acquisition or expectation of pleasurable feelings which is caused by success, good fortune, the gratification of desire or some good possessed, or by a rational prospect of possessing what we love or desire. A delight of the mind, from the consideration of the present, or assured approaching possession of a good. Gayety; myrth; festivity. Happiness; felicity. A glorious or triumphant state. The cause of joy or happiness."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">I have kind of been taught my entire life that happiness is a bad thing while joyfulness is a good thing. I don't think I believe that to be true. I think that both are equally as good, just in different ways. Maybe joy is a little harder to attain. We have to work at it a bit more. Have a bit of the Pollyanna spirit about us. The word <i>happy</i> is found only 25 times in the Bible while the word <i>joy</i> (or any variation like <i>joyful</i>) is found 187 times. Neither one carries a negative connotation. So, I think that <i>happiness</i> is enjoying something good in the present, while <i>joy</i> is the anticipation of something good in the future.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">In other words, I can overcome the miserable circumstances of right now by looking forward to the blissful circumstances of the future. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">Think about that for a minute. I am only child who now has nine children of my own. I never have any time alone. My house is never clean. My laundry is never done. My floors are usually dirty. My dishes are rarely done. My yard is always a mess. But that's okay. It's temporary. I can look forward to better circumstances in the future -- namely, my children being grown-up, good Christian people rearing their own families for the Lord. My seemingly miserable circumstances right now are temporary.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">However, in my day-to-day life, there are also many happy times. Like when the misery of childbirth is immediately replaced by a squeaking, chubby, red-faced baby. Like a bike ride on July 4th with family and great friends. Like my 5 year old grabbing my face and telling me I'm beautiful (even though I'm 20 pounds heavier than I would like, my breath stinks, I haven't showered, and I look like I just crawled out from under a hole) and <i>actually meaning it!</i> Like sitting on the front swing with the sun beaming down on me looking at my beautiful flowers! Like sweet snuggles and kisses from the most adorable 5 month old in the world! Like hugs from my adorable 3 year old. Like roses picked (maybe illegally?!) and put in my hair by my ever-growing, nearly 15 year old son. These things are priceless. These things are easy to enjoy most of the time (we'll talk about when they aren't another day.).</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">But then there are the crummy times. The times when the laundry is overwhelming. When every. single. room in the house looks like a tornado tore through it. When I forgot (again!) to plan dinner and it's 6 o'clock. When my husband has been working 16-18 hours a day for the last two months. When every child in the house wants to exercise his independence at the same time. When the baby won't sleep. When the dog strews garbage through the whole living room. You get the idea. At these times, I want to feel sorry for myself. There's no <i>happiness</i> in sight. At these times, though, I can have joy. I can look forward to the hugs, the sweet words, the smiles, the snuggles, the flowers. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">The key is figuring out a way to remind myself that these circumstances are temporary and will pass. I'll be honest: I don't have it figured out yet. I fail more often than I succeed, but the secret is to keep trying to succeed. Don't give up! You can do it! This too shall pass. You will make it to the other side. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Open Sans, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;">The "older women" that I have been fortunate enough to have at various stages in my life always told me, "Enjoy your children while they are little. They grow so quickly." and "It's easier when your children are all young. It gets harder as they get older." I have to admit that I didn't really believe them. But now that my oldest is 16 I think I'm beginning to understand. Life passes by so very quickly. We only have these wonderful blessings for a few moments in the grand scheme of life. Certainly we can learn to endure and maybe even enjoy the "crummy" moments (and when we have little ones, they are often "crumby"!) in anticipation of the joy these little ones will bring us later -- sometimes just 5 minutes later!</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPCZ-tpGDjhg-0lTl3jorpFgw0U5Bk5J93maaHuQYPI6anVfE_RwlQhqMuFk6FDmf-789-E79E8YFCvTpwDECDCR9yM2NgAtsk9AOy-h9GiAK8cN8kpe6WqdzyQhu-yl94fgjl9s1zDpo/s1600/IMG_20130704_211430_551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPCZ-tpGDjhg-0lTl3jorpFgw0U5Bk5J93maaHuQYPI6anVfE_RwlQhqMuFk6FDmf-789-E79E8YFCvTpwDECDCR9yM2NgAtsk9AOy-h9GiAK8cN8kpe6WqdzyQhu-yl94fgjl9s1zDpo/s400/IMG_20130704_211430_551.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Open Sans, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Open Sans', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 23px;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08452349433999258830noreply@blogger.com0