tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51801021937050194262024-02-06T20:42:07.164-08:00Beautiful ThingsThe McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.comBlogger220125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-21503737549980840792020-04-11T11:51:00.000-07:002020-04-11T11:59:38.103-07:00And the whole world came to a screeching halt<center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And the whole world came to a screeching halt…. so many emotions resonate with this feeling right now in our world today. </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So many carrying grief of what they hoped would be: weddings, sports, senior Years, graduations, Retirements, funerals.</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One day people had jobs, and the next day many found themselves in the unemployment line.</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>Pain, grief, questions abound. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>And we wait. </b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And the whole world came to a screeching halt… they hailed him. Then they seized him. He gave his life painfully to death for us. The earth quaked, the vail was torn. The whole world came to a screeching hault. And in that moment, grief of what they hoped would be… died. Where is their King? Where is the Kingdom? Was He not who He said? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>Pain, grief, questions abound. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>And they wait.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">While the whole word waits, something stirs. It is restoration occurring. Our schedules restored from the grip of hurry. Homes restored with laughter, connection, and creativity. Land and sea restored, natural beauty rising in the stillness of man. Seismic activity, even the smallest of quake, is being detected rather than drowned out by human noise. Surely in this restoration for our soul can be found.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Something stirred that glorious morning, when the breath of life entered back into our Savior. Ultimate victory and restoration was made available to us all! Victory over sorrow. Victory over death. Victory over circumstances. Victory over expectations. Victory over fear and anxiety. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Just as the smallest sounds of nature are being heard in our pause, may we accept the gift of stillness and sense His presence this weekend. May our quietened souls allow for our hearts to detect His voice this Easter. May it deepen and give way to deepest praise and gratitude as the sun rises tomorrow- our Easter morning! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> He is near. </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">He speaks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> He comforts. He is our restoration. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> He is our Hope. </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">He is Alive! </span></div>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-37818900020447493032018-05-02T07:45:00.002-07:002018-05-02T07:45:53.416-07:00Breathing thru the HITs of life... <center>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You know that one.... maybe others mistake it for a sigh.... but you know what it is. It's that moment where you take that deep breath and then.... get right back to it. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">On this little 80 day journey I'm on, I've made really REALLY good friends with the deep clearing breath. 6 days a week this program kicks my booty. Some days I find it enjoyable, but there are those handful of days I DREAD!! I know I'm going to work way harder than I think I can. When the HIT training starts my heart quickly races... and sometimes my mind even joins in the fun. That's when I have to make a choice: I can either let things continue to be out of control and eventually succumb to the belief that I really can't...which usually leads to quitting OR I can make the choice to find my deep clearing breath and keep pushing. I inhale all the fresh oxygen my body needs and I exhale the carbon dioxide... I start to notice my heart rate starts to respond to my efforts, and it becomes more controlled. All of the sudden, things start to settle. Both my heart and mind reset and I finish strong.</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I have never regretted completing the hard workout. ever.</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I've found myself using this concept in my life... long after the workout is over. I mean, I'm a therapist... so I know the ins and outs of relaxation breathing techniques. There is a difference. This deep clearing breath takes place in the middle of the hard. </span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>I'm continuing in the hard, using the breath to allow me to indeed continue in the hard.</strong> </span></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Life is sometimes full of hard. One might say that for some, and at times all, it is indeed High Intensity Training. It doesn't let up. The moment you have one thing tackled, 2 more things demand all you have. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Life starts to feel more like the never ending climb than that thing you dreamed of as a little girl.</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The climb may not have a summit anywhere in sight...</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> the weight of what you carry may feel heavier and heavier with each passing moment....</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">the feeling of climbing alone may have stolen your motivation to keep putting one foot in front of the other.... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">That is when your heart and mind say "I can't do one more hard step..."</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But my dear friend... that.... that is the moment... to not fall into beliefs that have us anxious and overwhelmed.... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> In the middle of life's heavy, you breath in truth... exhale lies... meanwhile moving your feet forward... </span></center>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Exhale "I can't do this..."</span></strong></center>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Inhale "I can do all things..."</span></strong></center>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Exhale "Why am I being punished?"</span></strong></center>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Inhale "All things work together for good..."</span></strong></center>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Exhale "this is too heavy for me..."</span></strong></center>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Inhale "He will strengthen me with his hand..."</span></strong></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Take the deep clearing breath and feel your feet keep pounding up that mountain. It's in that moment that we our chaos and feelings of being out of control come under submission of a greater truth... I mean the chaos may continue... just like the workout... but it starts to FEEL differently... perspective shifts... and we start to notice that indeed our feet can climb what it thought it couldn't. </span></center>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"The Sovereign LORD is my strength! He makes me as surefooted as a deer...</span></strong></center>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> able to tread upon the heights." Habakkuk 3:19</span></strong></center>
The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-83416556967402960142017-11-19T07:27:00.002-08:002017-11-19T07:27:29.067-08:00I dare you to move... <center>
It's funny. After yesterday's post I thought, oh boy... I haven't come very far from the sounds of it. </center>
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But I started thinking, and reflecting about this journey in its entirety. </center>
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From the outside in, it might not look so bad. From my inside out, it seems like a rare breed of chaos and hope swirling around. Some days, one... some days the other. </center>
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I realized recently that I had allowed my emotional state to be ridden with what was actually <b>sin. </b> </center>
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self loathing.... </center>
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inaccurate guilt</center>
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self pity</center>
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loss of joy for today</center>
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lack of thanksgiving</center>
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grumbling and complaining </center>
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isolation</center>
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irritation and frustration (not the table flippin' kind)</center>
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making excuses for my thoughts and emotions as if I had good reason</center>
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All of this. <b>Sin</b>. </center>
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What's interesting is this... since my post yesterday, I've had other women tell me they struggle with the same thought patterns BUT resulting from different circumstances. Oh you crafty little devil. </center>
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Our minds are powerful. I know this because I work with people on the mind-heart connection. That's why Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy even exists. Thoughts impact behavior. Thoughts impact emotions that impact behavior. </center>
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And so I've just left that to run wild for the sake of "processing" and in the name of "grief" ??</center>
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A sweet friend shared with me the lyrics to a song yesterday. Several phrases struck me, but this one:</center>
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<i><b>"I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor." </b></i></center>
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Ok, ladies. Whatever our circumstances.... maybe it's moving across the country or world... </center>
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maybe its that opportunity that hasn't come... </center>
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or that child that just didn't .... </center>
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or the loss of someone that feels so unfair... </center>
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or the loss of yourself as you raise those babies at home... </center>
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or a body that doesn't work the way it once did... </center>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor. </span></i></b></center>
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Again. Today. And again tomorrow. And the next day... and the next day... and the next... </center>
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It feels exhausting to wake up and find yourself BACK ON THE FLOOR! ha. </center>
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I can't speak for you. But for me, my thought life has kept me there. </center>
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<b> It's time for me to confess them, catch them, and take them straight to truth. </b></center>
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We are in a battle.</center>
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We get to choose our weaponry. </center>
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I've stunk at that more days than not. </center>
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But Powerless should never be in us. </center>
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For me, its a direct result of choosing the wrong weapons.</center>
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In Deuteronomy 1, Moses was pointing to the Israelites that the journey through the wilderness was an 11 day journey. Ya'll. ELEVEN DAYS!!!!!!!!! And yet they wondered for FOURTY YEARS!! </center>
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<b><i>Their mind and hearts were in bondage although free!! </i></b></center>
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Sound familiar?!? </center>
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Good Lawd! I don't want this to take 40 years! </center>
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<b><i>"You have dwelt long enough on this mountain... Behold I have set a land before you; go and take possession of the land." Deuteronomy 1:6-8 </i></b></center>
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He is saying "lift yourself up off the floor... get off the mountain...I've promised you a land to take, why are you still wondering around aimlessly up here?" </center>
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This verse gave me a quick kick in the behind.</center>
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I DO NOT want to be the one wallowing in my own miserable head for one more second. </center>
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The Battle is real.</center>
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But as I told my friend last night... It's on like Donkey Kong. Cause I'm tired of this powerless, exhausting, overwhelming, earth dwelling mindset. </center>
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So for today... this very morning... I'm lifting myself off the floor and throwing my belt of truth on... putting on my armor (against my OWN MIND)... and praying non-stop that moment by moment... today... I will live in His power to live in Freedom already given to me. </center>
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I dare you to move.... </center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-58080661299492199972017-11-18T15:04:00.000-08:002017-11-18T15:11:52.104-08:00Stolen Aspirations of the soul....<center>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><i>"Sadness discolors everything; it leaves all objects charmless; it involves future prospects in darkness; it deprives the soul of all its aspirations, enchains all its power and produces mental paralysis." - Streams in the Dessert</i></b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I've wanted to write 1,000 times. What to say? How to say it? Can I share it in such a way that it doesn't evoke pity but rather a stirring in one's own soul? </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The past 18 months, I have wrestled in the pit, with enemy and with God. My mind has become a breeding ground for emotions that would rob God of all glory within me. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Deep grief has been at its root, with sadness- anger- and bitterness growing forth. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">There were no words, no act of kindness, no provision that could overpower. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As I entertained these thoughts and emotions, my actions became less and less... well... like me, and certainly not like Christ. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"This isn't the way things were supposed to be." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"This isn't what was promised to me." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"No one cares, no one understands, get used to it. It is the way of this new life." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"I can't do this." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Why is it so hard here in this land where dreams become a reality?" (sarcasm) </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"How can I feel more fear and anxiety now than in Africa?" </span></center>
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<i><b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Powerless. Once great love vibrant with color became colorless... no charm... nothing left to be desired. </span></b></i></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Why is He leaving me like this?" </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Why is there no space for me here?"</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Why do my kids have to struggle?" </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And the questions continued to swirl in my mind and eventually became second nature. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was angered over the injustices my eyes were watching. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I became infuriated at what seemed to be lost years never restored as promised... just leaving gaping holes and dreams staring you down on the other side of a barred window. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was so acutely aware of every fault, every "not enough", that just getting out of bed seemed pointless. My very existence. Pointless.</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Too much grief. Too much change. Too much loss. Too much loneliness. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I struggled to look in the mirror and not become overwhelmed with the thought of "What has happened to me? How did I get in this place?" </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Some say I died inside the day we left Zambia. Many days I believed this. </span></center>
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<i><b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When you lose what was never meant to become who you are, the process can be very ugly and painful. </span></b></i></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Depression. Lost Vision. Anger. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">That was me. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Are you still in that place?" you may ask. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And my answer? </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Yes. Some days. Some days I get lost in the anxiety of future things. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Some days I get exhausted and really lonely because life seems to be becoming LESS settled rather than more so. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I still get angry at what feels undone, out of reach, or honestly just TOO HARD. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I get tempted to have self pity. After all "Who has 7 kids, works full time, and has no family to help?" </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Often I feel that it isn't fair that I had to return to a "new" place and go through my "worst" without life-long friends or family to remind me of who I truly am. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But I'm learning... again... for the 785,987,463 time: </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I can choose to put my mind in a place that will allow my heart to follow. Some days are successful, some days aren't. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> "You cannot have a positive life and a negative mind." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> I confess I have been a person overwhelmed by the negative. It has stolen my souls aspirations. It has robbed me from joy. It has taken opportunities from me to bless others. It has placed a darkness over all things within my home. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I want to dream again. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I want to release guilt over not doing things "just right" or making this whole transition into a real mess. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I want to laugh... often and hard and a lot. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I want to steady my mind on Him. Have laser focus on what matters and let all else fall away. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I want forgiveness from those I love the most for dragging them through this emotional war. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I want to accept this "next place" and pour myself out for His glory. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I want thankfulness to be at the forefront of all I do.</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>(I'm just thankful that the "I want" phrase is there- Desire is half the battle)</b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So I'm hopeful that the coming year is better than the last. That somehow the messes I've made will be redeemed and I will see the "why me" for this journey. </span></center>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">"When you pass trough the waters, I will be with you; and the waves, they will not overcome you. When you walk through the fire; you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God." - Isaiah 43:2-3</span></i></b></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></center>
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<a href="http://s795.photobucket.com/albums/yy239/designsbyjenn/?action=view&current=siggywithdivider.png" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i795.photobucket.com/albums/yy239/designsbyjenn/siggywithdivider.png" /></span></a></center>
The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-34213784921708569792017-07-05T03:24:00.001-07:002017-07-05T03:24:46.955-07:00Year Gone By.... <center>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">A year and 20 days ago..... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We left. </span></center>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbhZ57Id9C4MGBsLHsUGLJ6K0wq-oQP9QGgKeMgWOTy2QY5MMJK-B9D5lJBU6ChNM-Zqo53R_zO0GOim7qdiO-vVeSvn_jxXUzywGQAqq-qAfg3OtxkPV9x9QTkoqQrC7Q-D6aBgz7_gMc/s1600/IMG_1431.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="358" data-original-width="1600" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbhZ57Id9C4MGBsLHsUGLJ6K0wq-oQP9QGgKeMgWOTy2QY5MMJK-B9D5lJBU6ChNM-Zqo53R_zO0GOim7qdiO-vVeSvn_jxXUzywGQAqq-qAfg3OtxkPV9x9QTkoqQrC7Q-D6aBgz7_gMc/s640/IMG_1431.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">No words or amount of sympathy could make it better. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The pain of leaving my people, my community, my children </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>(because surely by now you know there's more than 7)</i></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> was beyond me. </span></center>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUvS8ACUPRSF8N3Ad10GS__9zXpyNbdIJz2M_j2AxGRo-WU6kdpKaXzqAbAj3laXTbp8ex0ZA6h-Fzj3eni6O_UAd_DYaPuiekhai4hv7DUc_fK-6xxztYk-bv_gHlSiBS4bhFpwFW1h-g/s1600/IMG_4583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUvS8ACUPRSF8N3Ad10GS__9zXpyNbdIJz2M_j2AxGRo-WU6kdpKaXzqAbAj3laXTbp8ex0ZA6h-Fzj3eni6O_UAd_DYaPuiekhai4hv7DUc_fK-6xxztYk-bv_gHlSiBS4bhFpwFW1h-g/s640/IMG_4583.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I honestly didn't think I would have the strength to do it... or at least people on the plane would surely be convinced of my insanity. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>But He strengthened my every step.</b></i> </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I believe I talked quite a bit about the pain of leaving the place where my heart beats freest... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And if you haven't read <a href="http://growingmcbs.blogspot.com/2016/08/the-process-of-untangling.html">this</a> post, do that now. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">That stupid toenail. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>(I'd insert the photo I sent to Zambia to show them so we could laugh together but I'm thinking TMI)</i></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">What an unbelievably tangible way my Father has given to continue teaching me. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I know ya'll are gonna think I'm crazy </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>(maybe its too late?)</i></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> But... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">10 days after our 1 year of returning "home" .... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>my silly toenail fell off again!!</i></b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We were all a little shocked... and amused. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>(because of course the boys haven't let their dad live down the fact that he ripped it off in the first place)</i></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But you know what I noticed?</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>This time... it didn't hurt as much. </i></b> </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It had clearly worked hard this past year trying to look "normal."</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I even disguised it with nail polish thinking maybe this Summer it wouldn't be quite so noticeably...</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <b><i>different... </i></b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>damaged... </i></b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>broken... </i></b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But, <b><i>despite our great effort</i></b>, </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I just couldn't keep the nail on. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It is never going to look like it did before. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">To many eyes, it is pretty ugly. And that's ok. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm never going to have that perfectly pedicured foot any longer.... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">and....</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I'm kinda embracing my imperfect toe. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It is my alter stone. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The remembrance. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Of what? </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Once, there was something really beautiful... but my identity wasn't attached to it as I once thought. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When that something beautiful was ripped off of me... the pain was more than I could bare. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>But He spoke in it.</i></b> </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yes it looked ugly, different, and imperfect.... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But I can't be who I was before this beautiful thing. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I can't hide it under fake.... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">or...</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">empty and meaningless words... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">or... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> "culture" norms</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>(Cause we all know Jesus was really good at that... ahem)</i></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Because while the pain is nothing as it used to be,</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> the reality that it's really never going to be like it was is <b><i>ok</i></b>. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There's beauty in the hard... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">in the pain... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">in the imperfect.</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">No... I'd choose to look as if nothing had ever happened. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Its easier that way. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Its more comfortable. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>(for others more than me)</i></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Less risky. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>(because only calculated risk seems <strike>responsible </strike> acceptable in the church)</i></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But that's not my reality. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My eyes can't unsee... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My heart can't unfeel... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My mind can't undo... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>He's shown me way too much of Himself for me to wallow in what used to be.</i></b> </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So, the second year begins. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There's really no promise that the result is going to be this beautifully, perfectly manicured life </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">(or toenail)... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But I will see God's moving. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I will not ignore His voice. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I will pray that His love that so generously flowed out in a land strange to so many around me, will continue to overflow to those He has placed me before now. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>He is the same... I am not. </i></b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>I don't have to be, because He is. </i></b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So this year, I'm embracing the imperfect. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The things that didn't quite turn out the way I'd hoped for. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Trusting completely in the one who takes all our crazy brokenness </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">and lets His light shine brightly through the cracks. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> And in that... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I sense the healing... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">the purpose... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">and choose to not fight against the pain anymore...</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">but to feel privileged to have experienced it. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>It's actually really beautiful. </b></i></span></center>
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<i>"I saw what I saw and I can't forget it.</i></center>
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<i>I heard what I heard and I can't go back</i></center>
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<i>I know what I know and I can't deny it</i></center>
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<i><br /></i></center>
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<i>Something on the road, cut me to the soul</i></center>
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<i><br /></i></center>
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<i>Your pain has changed me</i></center>
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<i>your dreams inspire</i></center>
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<i>your face a memory</i></center>
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<i>your hope a fire</i></center>
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<i>your courage asks me what I'm afraid of</i></center>
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<i>and what I know of love."</i></center>
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<i><br /></i></center>
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<i> --- Sara Groves</i></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-64563423029885963592017-05-12T14:24:00.001-07:002017-05-12T14:59:59.397-07:00 That time I was the Commercialized Mother... (in my dreams)<center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As Mother's Day has been approaching, I've been tuning my ear to all of the advertisements... they are everywhere... TV, Radio, my mailbox. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is my first Mother's Day in the US in 5 years. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>(Maybe I hit one on furlough once, but that doesn't count because furlough is simply your brain fried.) </b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Is it just me or are these advertisements really putting on the pressure? </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It could be the fact that when I think about my mothering </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>(not to be confused with my MOTHER)</b></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">, I'm in a struggling phase right now. </span></center>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioH1rU1jxrwRlXl5_MdnQsQoyR7KVNseFqI7Ua1hNoBxbLfcBLMoeXoN-kqoJKKEuo728LHv1K0_06MZOpzxC9FtbANav5hGcN4hhWFZ_R96PtesUFRqK930RedEvZXvGXJIxq-eZnqYxz/s1600/images-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioH1rU1jxrwRlXl5_MdnQsQoyR7KVNseFqI7Ua1hNoBxbLfcBLMoeXoN-kqoJKKEuo728LHv1K0_06MZOpzxC9FtbANav5hGcN4hhWFZ_R96PtesUFRqK930RedEvZXvGXJIxq-eZnqYxz/s400/images-1.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's ok. If you have only come across the sweet messages, let me help you with some of the ones I've come across. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Life doesn't come with a manual, It comes with a Mother." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>(So, I guess that means I should know what I'm doing or have answers to stuff???)</b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"A mother's arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them."</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>(Unless you are a teenager and then you fear her arms... )</b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"The loveliest masterpiece of the heart of God is the heart of a mother." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>(So, my heart is HIS greatest masterpiece. eish... I'm thinking it's pretty messy. Ok, yeah, maybe once upon a time.)</b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Most mothers are instinctive Philosophers." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>(Great, now I have to be intelligent)</b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Moms are like buttons- They hold everything together." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>(Well, that explains why everything is a mess)</b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Mothers and their children are in a category all their own. There's no bond so strong in the entire world. No love so instantaneous and forgiving." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>(It's ok moms... who aren't having this blissful experience... )</b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"God could not be everywhere, and therefore he created mothers." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>(Oh Good, now I'm a substitute for God Himself.)</b></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Anyone else feeling the pressure?</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">That loving, kind, mother making that yummy favorite all the time and greeting you with goodness. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sigh. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I"m not that. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Maybe instead of celebrating some falsehood, I'll simply celebrate the reality.... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> that we actually MADE it through the year and we are all still TOGETHER. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I dream of those fantastic commercials actually reflecting my reality. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I want to be that... eventually. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But for all of those mother's that don't fit into the commercial version of Mother's Day... You're not alone. </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>(Plus I keep telling myself that its only a facade. If people actually think they are that good, they need a dose of insight I'm sure. hahahahaha) </b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Much love and Happy Mother's Day </b></i></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>to the tired, worn out, </b></i></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>can't find a dang thing, </b></i></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>grumpy, </b></i></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>trying as hard as she can mother, </b></i></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>or aunt, or grandmother, or foster mother... or whatever title you find yourself under. </b></i></span></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>(because sometimes just that is a mystery, too) </b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>(And don't soak into the lies, the great thing is that for the children who love you as the mother... you really are like a dream to them)</b></span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-79401614180482887622017-05-11T03:17:00.001-07:002017-05-11T03:17:54.272-07:00Oh deceiver... <center>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Oh deceiver... you are good at what you do. </span></center>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiKSrrhkjc0JkLj8QtWGhsGL82umpsDeIUIVFYriW5fDnXeaLqkCREqEsBTkxY-1f6pK7LdQokWSsd-b8hce0ScRT3fP4Sq0fMn2QGfwcqODXWGmIerTZWw5QqoOcuWbI2va7YtF3zNmkk/s1600/15826ea6e37e6b897e89dfed85b6398a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiKSrrhkjc0JkLj8QtWGhsGL82umpsDeIUIVFYriW5fDnXeaLqkCREqEsBTkxY-1f6pK7LdQokWSsd-b8hce0ScRT3fP4Sq0fMn2QGfwcqODXWGmIerTZWw5QqoOcuWbI2va7YtF3zNmkk/s640/15826ea6e37e6b897e89dfed85b6398a.jpg" width="456" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You run thoughts & replay words through the mind ...</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">creating... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">doubt</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">insecurity</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">frustration</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">isolation</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">the second guess</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">the not enough</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yes, you are the author of all of these things. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And Oh.. deceiver... how you use the ones we love the most to wreck havoc on the pieces of a broken heart. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yes, you are good at what you do. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But you see. I see you for what you are. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You have always been the liar.</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The doubt causer.</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The one who isolates his prey in hopes for a kill</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Just to capture one down trodden soul on their journey</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Oh deceiver, I know your plan. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You've been using it since the beginning. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And yet, somehow, power is given over to your stupid little lies. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But you see, deceiver, I know The Truth. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And that... that is what will set me Free. </span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-6817247066321935552017-04-01T05:56:00.000-07:002017-04-01T05:58:25.240-07:00Growing roots....<center>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Well, it looks like I didn't forget how to write after all. Ya'll, there is SO.MUCH. to say and process, but the time simply isn't right to share with the world. You know, sometimes you need to walk through things without the world watching.... or knowing... but just pondering them in your own heart and with a few close friends. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But... That's not the point of this post... so blah blah blah on that. (looks like someone hasn't lost her sassy). </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's been 9 short and long months since leaving Zambia. It feels like yesterday and it feels like forever. As we went through the debriefing process, they spent a lot of time talking about viewing your transplant like an actual plant. The uprooting process .... the transplanting... and then the security of making your roots strong in the dirt where God has placed you. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Over the past 9 months, I've *tried* to put some roots down.... I'll give myself a C+.</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">During this time, some things have become more clear for the hubs and I. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">1. We aren't really subdivision people anymore. (I never was for the record)</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">2. We want more space to grow, not just our children, but stuff... like food and maybe a pig (and chickens) </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">3. We see value in small town living, and hope to find community there. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We realize that our life seems like a ball of chaos. That's not our goal. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><i><b>But our goal is to never be so tied to what we have that we can't hear God's voice and have the courage to let go and follow. </b></i></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I am so tempted to have this dream that this will be "it." That this will be the home where our children come home to, and bring their children to, and where we grow old together. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But then there's this other side. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>I never want my roots to grow deeper in a PLACE than they are IN HIM. </i></b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I want my roots, and my children's roots to be in HIM. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>Everything else is an illusion. </i></b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">There is no security in a place. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">There is no guaranteed forever in a home.</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Not in things. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Not in neighbors. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Not in a job. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The only secure place we can put our roots down is in Him. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I always want to remain willing to take my roots in Him and GO anywhere He leads. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">There is security in that. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our children can find security in that. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We are TOGETHER in Him. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So, as we look forward to what this next stage brings of building a home on a little farm, and taking our roots and placing them in a small town... we hold this verse in hand:</span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Let your </span><b><i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ROOTS</span></i></b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> grow down into </span><b><i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">HIM</span></i></b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">. </span></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And Let your </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Lives</b></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> be built on </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>HIM</i></b></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Then your </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>FAITH</i></b></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> will grow </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>STRONG</i></b></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> in the </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>TRUTH</i></b></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> you were taught... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">and you will <b><i>OVERFLOW</i></b> with <b><i>THANKFULNESS</i></b>." Colossians 2:7</span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-59313898470824823802016-08-06T06:52:00.001-07:002016-08-06T06:52:47.851-07:00The process of Untangling.... <center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> It's been 7 weeks since I left part of myself in Zambia. 7 weeks. Yet it feels like a lifetime ago. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I feel like theres so much to share and yet I simply can't yet... stories of laughter, tears, where God showed up in big ways. Things that right now are just held deeply in my heart in a secret place. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Right before we left Zambia, our boarding students and staff gave us an unbelievable amazing party. And at this party, we had a volleyball tournament, because we used to play a LOT of volleyball. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">During this great and intense tournament (because, in case you didn't know, I'm super competitive and have no mercy. Ok actually I usually get my face smashed, but I feel like I'm Kerri Walsh Jennings) .... ok back to the tournament... After the McB family beat the kids (I told you no mercy) Then we proceeded to the staff. Shane and I went up for a block at the same time (which is a site within itself) and He came down with his big ole shoe on my toenail... the edge of it just right. BOOM! Horrific pain ran up my leg and as I looked down my big toenail had been popped completely off from the root. woah. SUB! </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I sat with this thing soaking in water, and the pain shooting up... God was just like "this... this is what your heart looks like and feels like right now. Your toe is a visible picture of your emotional pain. And this will hurt. And it will take a LONG time to heal. Actually, it might not ever look the same again. And that's ok." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And there it was, a message in my pain. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">7 weeks later... when my grace starts to run out...</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I feel like "why can't I get myself together?" </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">...when I feel like I've totally lost myself and have no idea what I'm doing here... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I look at my toe. And I laugh. And cry. And add a lot of grace to my life and to the life of my family. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Because my toe still looks kinda yucky. Thus, it is my measure. It's ok that I still feel and look a little yucky too. Because it hasn't been long enough to heal. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The other day I noticed that theres a nail starting to grow, and I had hope. Hope that something new is growing in the life of our family. Hope that God is going to do something NEW in us. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And it will all take time. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Honestly, I start and end my day with thoughts of Zambia. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I drive down the smoothly paved roads craving for a pothole. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I look around wanting to find people walking or standing on the side of the road... or the smell of exhaust and dust mixed while the wind blows through my hair. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And let's not even start how I long to be there for the children who call me mom. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am fully in the process of Untangling grief. And there are good days, and bad days. Our family is walking through this together with laughs and tears and memories and uncertainty... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">" He is before all things...And by Him all things Hold together...." Col. 1:17</span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-85562265841437504532016-06-17T04:24:00.002-07:002016-06-17T04:24:24.983-07:00Our Needs made known... <center>
Well, it happened. We have landed. Delirious and emotional. </center>
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While we do not know for certain when the next time our feet will hit Zambian soil, we know that we can't go that long... </center>
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And while I have a million thoughts and emotions processing through my mind right now, I'm choosing to wait on sharing those. </center>
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However, Here's what can't wait. Recently we sent out a letter to our faithful support team making our needs known for this transition. We totally get that serving in the US is much less "glamorous" than serving in Zambia. (I mean, I'd rather be THERE if you weren't picking up on that)</center>
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But, to have our needs met here are important as well, and we must let our needs be known. Here is the letter that we have sent and ways in which many people can help. Maybe you can only help a little, maybe you can help a lot... That's not for me to determine. For us, we will be faithful in making our needs known. </center>
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Friends, Family, and Supporters… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">We pray that this letter finds you well, and enjoying the
warmer weather where you are. As for us,
we are in our winter and the coolness feels nice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Our time in Zambia is quickly coming to a close, and the
weeks and months ahead feel very scary, painful, and strange. We are certainly in the grieving process
amidst the very busy season of teams, interns, and change. Things have been given away, sold, and the
house is starting to look empty of things, but certainly not children. The house says “something big is about to
happen.” One room is piled with things
that we are bringing home. That
squeezing your life into 14 bags… again… feels familiar but unwelcome. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">However, despite our own emotions, things on the ground are
going well. We continue to look forward
to 4 more boarding homes being completed by the end of the year, and a total of
100 students in boarding for next year.
Currently there are 74! Plans continue to be made towards growth for the
future, and students continue to be serious about their learning and are
producing good results. The forward
momentum continues, and will continue.
The program is solid and we have made a plan for the responsibilities to
be divided and therefore conquered.
Shane will continue to observe reports and be available to leadership on
the ground while he is in the US office.
Next year we will have our first graduating class! We so pray our family (or at least part) is
able to return for that celebration. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">As in a previous email, we will remain on support for the
next 12-18 months. We so desire for you
to continue your support as our family transitions. It is necessary for us to continue with the
ministry God has placed us in. In
addition, we have some one-time needs that are coming our way because of the
relocation. We have been very blessed
with families advocating for us to collect a lot of things needed for our
return. If you have been one of those who
have donated furniture, etc… we are so so grateful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">We would be so grateful if you would consider a one-time
gift to help our family transition back to the US. Some of the one time expenses we have coming
to us are listed below:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">·<span style="line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Immigration Fees for our 2 oldest children
($5,000)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">·<span style="line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->A second car/van for our growing family ($7,500)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">·<span style="line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Medical exams/checkups/etc for our children to
enter school ($1,000)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">·<span style="line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Plane tickets & school fees for our 2 foster
boys: Brian and Webby ($8,000)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">We have not made very many requests over the last 5
years. We’ve rarely asked for an
increase in giving to our personal support.
We ask that you prayerfully consider a one-time gift to help our family
transition well. If you are unable to do
so, but able to increase giving for a period of time, we ask that you
prayerfully consider that. We look
forward to a time where we are able to transition off of support, but we always
welcome opportunities to see God’s faith stretching provision. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Beyond giving, we truly covet your prayers. There are many many details that must come
together in the next couple of weeks.
Pray for emotional endurance, a good ending of a season here in Zambia,
wisdom for the steps ahead, and the hearts of our children especially. Pray we would be wise in making the many
decisions necessary to transition from another country. Pray for the people and children we leave
behind. Pray for the VISA appointments
for our foster children, that they would be granted the student visa allowing
them to remain a part of our family.
(Surprise! Many of you didn’t know we have more than 5!) Please pray for
provision. Pray for protection for the
family we leave behind. Pray for good,
Godly friends for my children as we start a new life in Normal, IL. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Words cannot express how grateful we are to each of
you. Tears feel my eyes and my heart
feels like it will explode with gratitude.
The work that has taken place here over the last 5 years is a product of
YOUR faithfulness. It would NOT have
happened without YOU. God is at work,
and I believe that in Heaven… if not before… some of our Zambian children will
thank you. Their lives are changed
forever. And, this is not the end. My vision remains for this place and these
children. We still have work to do and
we pray you will continue that with us! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">We will be sending an update as soon as we get settled in
the US. Please feel free to call us or
email us anytime. After June 16<sup>th</sup>,
you can reach us at 423-404-3334. Our
email and giving information is below. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">We love you all beyond words! Nalikutemwa! (We love you!) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> Shane,
Mitzi, James, Paul, Zack, Kaytie, & Elijah<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Giving information:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><u><span style="color: #333333;">Check and Mail</span></u><span style="color: #333333;">: Please make checks payable to “Lifesong for Orphans” and mail
them to: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Lifesong for Orphans, PO Box
40 Gridley, IL 61744<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> *In the memo line, please
write “McBride: 97800"<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><u><span style="color: #333333;">Online Giving</span></u><span style="color: #333333;">:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-4673208506530524022016-06-09T20:14:00.001-07:002016-06-09T20:14:19.904-07:00Confessions of a Missionary... <center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Confession: My greatest fears of living in the USA. </span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Before even getting started, allow me to make 2 disclaimers. </span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">#1: I love my country. But it is not my only home. Actually, it doesn't even feel like home to me, nor my children. Our home is here, in Zambia. So when you say "Welcome HOME" or "Aren't you glad to be back on US soil?" It feels strange and disconnecting. Because for a while, the answer is going to be "No." </span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> #2: I know that fear is not a place believers want to live... but it is something we experience. So, I totally get that perfect love casts out fear... and I won't be living with these things forever. But right now, these are thing real life things swirling in m mind. </span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So with that disclaimer made, Let's get started. </span></center>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Fear Confession #1:</span></b></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">People won't understand us and won't want to talk about our experiences in Zambia because it makes them feel uncomfortable.</span></center>
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<i>Maybe talking about orphans, or other peoples struggles or even victories makes people feel guilty. </i> </center>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Fear Confession #2:</span></b></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">People won't be accepting of our family, the way it is.</span> </span></center>
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<i>We are messy. Everyone is if they are honest. But we are REAL. </i> </center>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Fear Confession #3:</span></b></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The Wardrobe Effect: Once you walk through the wardrobe, you start to wonder if Narnia is even real. I'm scared this life I've lived for 5 years will start to feel like a dream. </span></center>
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Leaving you want to believe it is, but once you are around others who haven't been to Narnia, it can make you start living as if it wasn't real. </center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Letting go of life together. Like really LIFE TOGETHER. African Style. What if I only can be with others by appointment? We can call it community, but that's not LIFE. </span></center>
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<i>I dare you to pop in without being announced! It will feel oddly comforting. </i></center>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Fear Confession #5:</span></b></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm scared of comfort because it feels good. What if I become self absorbed? </span></center>
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<i>In reality I know it won't happen because I have lots of kids left behind who will keep me focused. </i></center>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Fear Confession #6: </span></b></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">What if I don't want my kids to be "Americanized?" Will that put them as the oddballs out?</span></center>
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<i>I have so much to say to Africa for it's unbelievably amazing childhoods that it has given my children.</i></center>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Fear Confession #7:</span></b></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm scared of starting to TRUST in ME more than I TRUST in HIM. </span></center>
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<i>Let's be honest, Americans are prideful (that's a good thing... so are Zambians!)... and we hold OUR dreams close (again, a good thing), and sometimes we think we are actually the ones in CONTROL (here's the faulty thinking). I've known better the last 5 years, but I feel this strange magnetic pull to switch my dependency from fully on HIM to fully on ME. </i></center>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Fear Confession #8:</span></b></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm scared of all the things that have changed that I'm totally unaware of. </span></center>
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<i>I mean, I must confess, on my last furlough I didn't know how to use the cards with the chip... OH, insert... not swipe. </i></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I won't be needed outside the walls of my own home.</span> </span></center>
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<i>I remember KG saying 2 furloughs ago as we were walking, "no one needs us here, where are the poor people?" And it's true... you have to go searching. They are segregated in THAT part of town... or let's not even talk about the poor... how about your neighbor? Can I need my neighbor? Like for real... if you need a cup of sugar... come on over and I'll probably give you some tea too.</i></center>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Fear Confession #10: </span></b></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Will the hustle and bustle take over the politeness and warmness of relationship?</span></center>
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<i>I completely believe now that God has created us to be in relationship with one another. Deeply. Sincerely. Not just closed off into the walls of our own family and our own schedule. Greeting someone here can take 5 minutes! But it's genuine. It's refreshing. People have time for people here. And they will almost ALWAYS drop what they are doing if someone else needs help. I love that. We've fallen into that pattern. Lord, please help us to demonstrate that in a culture so overtaken by schedules, demands, and self consumption. </i></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And last but certainly not least ... <b>Fear Confession #11:</b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Do I seriously have to vote in November?</span></center>
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<i>Come now, enjoy my comic relief. </i></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">While I know that some of these fears are just that... fears.. some of them come from cultural differences. I also know that not everyone is the same, and I believe God is going to address each one of these the same way he addressed each one of mine coming here. That's the cool part. I have some experience with this under my belt and He's still the same God... only now, I see Him way more powerful than before. However, I felt it important to post so that even I could remember what I felt at this time... and once again see God's faithful hand as he deals with each one in the future. </span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-22367133957272904792016-05-30T09:31:00.001-07:002016-05-30T09:31:25.385-07:002 Weeks and NOT counting... What's next?<center>
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Some days I can believe it... I breathe in the dust of the road as I drive to school and think... "Will I forget what this feels like?" </center>
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I bought talk time the other day and thought "Will this be the last time I need to buy talk time?" (it's the minutes for a cell phone)</center>
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So many things I thinking, "is this the last?" </center>
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Just today, one of our students said "How are you?" and I said "ok, but i could cry." He grabbed his heart and said "Me too. I want to cry too." So we decided we would wait. Wait until next week. We glanced at each other and could even see the pain together. </center>
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Yes, in 2 weeks we will wrap up life as we know it here. When we will return? As soon as possible. </center>
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But the main question is "What's next?" </center>
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Here's the answer: trying to survive. No, i'm joking, kinda! </center>
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Our family is a Lifesong Family. They are our family. We have never felt released from Lifesong. My hubs will continue to work with Lifesong in the home office in IL. We will remain on missionary support for at least the next year to 18 months. If you would like to join our support team you can click here. He will be helping to develop new projects and advocacy support. </center>
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As for me? Well, our family is under going some pretty huge transitions... shocker, I know. I have a huge desire to be available for our kids and my husband while remaining involved with this so called amazing place... Zambia. While I have some employment options available, currently I've already partnered with a pretty cool wellness company that promotes family health on a budget. It will allow me to work from home if I so choose. This will help the hubs some with finances, while allowing me the flexibility of being fully available for my family... and for volunteering in the areas of ministry I am passionate about while figuring out my new capacity level on the other side. The best part is that part of the income that is generated will go directly to our ministry! #bonus I am super amazed at what a huge blessing and timing this has been for us. </center>
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As for our kids? Well, mixed emotions. They are starting to see that it is coming SOONER than later... and even the littles are starting to show signs of grief. At the same time, we try to focus on what we have in front of us, while being grateful for whatever is behind us. sigh. This lesson we could all learn over and over again. They are processing, and will be processing for a long time.</center>
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So... 2 weeks... we will get on a plane... and forge ahead into something new... different. </center>
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I've decided that THAT is the word i'll use. it will be different. </center>
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But I'll trust the process of grief that we are in... </center>
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I'll trust the God of healing and good things... </center>
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It will all be ok. </center>
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We will be ok. </center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-34982657042485791242016-05-20T14:43:00.001-07:002016-05-20T14:43:10.597-07:00How do I let go?<center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I'm laying here under my mosquito net... all quiet in the house... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I star gaze through the space in my curtains. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">the barking dogs that once kept me awake and felt so unsettling are now like lullabies. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">How a place so strange becomes so ...YOU... I'll never know.</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">A weekend pass from boarding... that's what I asked for today. I needed to be with them. I need them. <strike>Maybe</strike> more than they need me. How do I let go? warm tears flow. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Tonight one said "your boys have grown into men." I looked around and saw that it was true. Once skinny, small frames with broken English (Engrish) Now tall, strong, intelligent, loving. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">This place... so written upon my heart... and it will remain. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> Every sound, smell, laugh. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I am a sponge, soaking in every last ounce of Zambian goodness... while deep inside I am wondering how in the world I shall ever let go. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord. Be strong and let your heart take courage. Wait for the Lord." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Ps 27:13-14</span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-83161340079135990502016-02-14T00:27:00.002-08:002016-02-14T00:27:52.605-08:00A Story about LOVE... <center>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="color: #cc0000;">LOVE…</span></span><span style="color: #cc0000;">.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Love is a funny little thing… It’s written about, experimented with, it
breaks young hearts, it drives people to do courageous things. LOVE. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And for a Christian, it is the center of all we do. Love God. Love others. Love self. That’s it.
Love is powerful. Love changes people’s circumstances. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Love changes both the one receiving and the
one loving. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Love is crazy. It is risky. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is painful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But if one thing I’ve learned, it is this: </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">To hurt deeply,
means you have loved deeply. And there’s
no greater privilege on earth than that</span><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">.</span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With one, comes the other. To accept one without the other isn’t really
love, it’s just comfort. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Why all the talk about
this little thing called LOVE? What I’m about to share with you is
wrapped up in love. Love is weaved in
and out and through it. There’s no story
I could share now, if it hadn’t been for LOVE.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A long time ago… I met a young man. He stole my heart. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We dreamed of life together. We got
married. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We chased dreams, and dreams
chased us. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We had babies, both with
surprise and plan. We were in love. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One day our dreams were exchanged for God’s.
We adopted a little boy from Ethiopia. We moved to Texas. Hearts changed and
grew through pain of leaving family, but seeing that God’s family is BIG and
His love was BIG. We made friends and
loved our little life. 3 years later,
God did something else. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This love grew in our hearts to the point of
explosion. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The burning was deep, and the
calling was clear. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We had sleepless nights, and long conversations. Sometimes we were sick to our stomachs with
fear of the unknown. . </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">Somehow, HIS LOVE
MADE US BRAVE. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Without doubt, we sold almost everything we owned. God loved us through people who went above
and beyond. Their love enabled us to go.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With tears, 3 small children and 13 bags… we walked through
the security gates in the Atlanta airport and I waved goodbye to my family and
everything familiar, and I followed that young man I married, who was now fully
man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While it felt scary, <span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">the LOVE was greater than the fear</span>. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">HE was with us. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I hung onto every promise and truth, and I
found that it was exactly that. TRUE. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The African dust settled, and things that were so unfamiliar
and uncomfortable quickly became comfortable and normal. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I followed this man around, and trusted him
to show me the “hows” and the “whys”. He
did that. We were able to LOVE and be
LOVED. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The people from the community
began to see that our LOVE was real, and deep, and helpful, and strong, and
from Jesus Christ himself. Our love
grew, and so did theirs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We kept loving, even when we didn’t know how. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: large;">We made the choice to love</span>.</span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And so we did. We loved each other when it wasn’t easy. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We loved others when we wanted to quit. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He loved me when I was in despair. I loved him when he was spent. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Somehow, Love
was also crazy. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And this crazy love
brought us the gift of 2 more sons. Not
in baby form, but in the form of preadolescent bodies. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And Love kept us fighting for them. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">HIS love is relentless, never gives up, and
is full of HOPE. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> That’s the place we
must love from. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Together, we have
loved over 370 students… their caregivers… our staff… our team.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> LOVE has come
in the form of sitting with grieving parents as they mourn their children on
the dirt floor of their home. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">LOVE looks
like holding ones crying from the grief of loosing a brother or sister. LOVE advocates for those who can’t… and gets
them the care they desperately deserve. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">LOVE speaks life giving truth into a child’s mind, not once, but
continually until they believe it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">LOVE is allowing your family to become
theirs. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">LOVE takes a risk… and forgives
that child who has messed up… AGAIN AND AGAIN… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">LOVE scoops up the sick off the hard ground and carries them
to the doctor. LOVE corrects and
disciplines the children going astray.
LOVE forgives… quickly and fully. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> LOVE goes after the ones who have lost their
way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We’ve seen the power of LOVE transform… hearts, minds,
behaviors. We’ve seen the courage of LOVE
literally change the entire future of a person. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All of that with a little thing called LOVE. The greatest thing about true LOVE is that it
is never a ONE WAY STREET. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">The LOVE that
I’ve received, is by far the most valuable of it’s kind.</span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">LOVE in the form of letter, or paper
watch, or art. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">LOVE in the form of a student giving me an
encouraging word from the Bible, LOVE from those across the Ocean who were
willing to do almost anything to love us. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">LOVE in the form of visiting and LOVING the ones WE LOVE. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">LOVE in the form of note by your own son. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">LOVE through giving whatever they have. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">LOVE through acts of service. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And the LOVE of
my husband when I wasn’t really LOVABLE at all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Never be confused that LOVE only flows outward. It is a continual river running, being fed by
LOVE so that it can run with LOVE. That’s God’s creative way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And now, LOVE is asking me to do the hardest thing of
all. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">5 years of deep, deep LOVE. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Something that no one could ever explain
unless you have walked it yourself. To
me, 5 years seems so small. But the past
5 years have taught me more about LOVE than the 31 previously. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This man, whom I adore and will spend the rest of my life
with, is being led to walk down a new road.
Only, this time… He feels it, and I do not. That is a first for us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">It is like my head knows
what my heart is incapable of feeling</span>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, in June of this year… our family will once again be selling the
small items we have acquired… and once again leave the place that has now
become so familiar, so much a part of WHO WE ARE… The place where God did
miraculous and wonderful things, and we will start to look forward to yet
another adventure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I will follow this now life-experienced and seasoned
man. The one who kills snakes and
navigates the African countryside. This
man who was so brave to say YES to God and YES to LOVING in such a crazy way!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: large;">I will follow that man.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will continue to trust the same God who has
been with us through snakes, malaria, medical evacuations, adoption roadblocks,
ever-growing and changing projects, the God who spared my sons life…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">Yes. I will trust THAT God.</span> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The coming was hard.
The going unbearable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can’t
speak for the road ahead, for it is unknown.
It is the first time we have walked this way. We can only hold on to what we know to be
true… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(HIS) LOVE never fails.
LOVE is always worth it. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-15508820574148803992015-07-26T00:30:00.002-07:002015-07-26T00:30:50.613-07:00When the wheels fall off... <center>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When the wheels fall off in life... we often times want to complain. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We want to believe that we deserve better than this <i>said</i> inconvenience. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our minds want to start piling up the unplanned costs or the lost time. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>But what if the timing of the wheels falling off actually SAVED us from something worse? </b></span></center>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2J_qHu_9NfOBjUFGvdTvG-ky-jg7qyrxggBGyLTafKhcdWKKVNmKRYeTzFoqMULYv6MyA_1B9SKFSxW3D1n2YSMZ5uY-P_WkBTE0cHsiALhN0w8kr4n0AtQqTrFGr9Wi7lse4ipHpsaDE/s1600/11745415_10207567317365189_4862932958494316878_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2J_qHu_9NfOBjUFGvdTvG-ky-jg7qyrxggBGyLTafKhcdWKKVNmKRYeTzFoqMULYv6MyA_1B9SKFSxW3D1n2YSMZ5uY-P_WkBTE0cHsiALhN0w8kr4n0AtQqTrFGr9Wi7lse4ipHpsaDE/s640/11745415_10207567317365189_4862932958494316878_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This week, my wheel literally fell off of my car. Well, it really broke off. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I saw what had happened to the car... I became OVERWHELMED... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>with thankfulness.</i> (and laughter) </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You see, I drive my kids 45 minutes one way down the most dangerous road in Zambia to school everyday. It's full of trucks loading things to and from the Congo. The condition of the roads are horrific, and we see accidents almost every day. Not fender benders... but take your life accidents. Speed and passing also become so dangerous. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Each night as we pray, we thank God for a safe journey to and from school, and ask that He provide us with the same the next day. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So... it just so happened the wheel on my car broke off on the road that Lifesong School is on. Going <i>slow</i>. Close to help. <i>Safe</i>. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If it had broken off 12 hours earlier... going 100KM/hr... on a road packed with trucks... it very easily would have flipped and possibly ended in an <i>unthinkable</i> way. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thankfulness. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Provision in the broken wheel. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His protection and love shined bright on our family in that moment of "I'm sorry, did my wheel just fall off?" </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm thankful that my eyes were opened to the provision that day. And let's admit... considering the day before I made a joke that "the wheels are about to fall off" ... I found the situation quite humorous. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Grumpiness and Gratefulness can't live together in the same heart simultaneously. </b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>You get to choose. </b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Choose what you see. </b></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sometimes what <i>seems</i> to be a huge disaster is actually His protection from something unknown to you at that time... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That He chose to love us in that way... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and protect us in that way... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">that <i>indescribable</i> love. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;">"Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift!" </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;">2 Corinthians 9:15</span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-64299216651303662352015-07-19T07:05:00.001-07:002015-07-19T07:09:27.481-07:00Believe the Beautiful... <center>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How quickly <i>the accuser</i> starts... He's always had a keen interest in our type from the beginning. He starts in the smallest of ways, at such a young age. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>"Do you think I'm beautiful?"</b> she asks from behind her bowl of mixed cookie dough. Heart sinks. How early the doubts begin. The first signs of those awful feelings I can so easily remember...</span></center>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZTYInuYcLAUMzzfv_R5hyPR2W8qKhsLXyUHav2jtJEifildXHtgLT601fhnman1AZQYRVWAqSymHtan4URfRGsXkJrm381AW6bW-pwzMR2eM4j9LgSwwt5qPHflvgFOQvDwmLr-smFgfR/s1600/IMG_1347.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZTYInuYcLAUMzzfv_R5hyPR2W8qKhsLXyUHav2jtJEifildXHtgLT601fhnman1AZQYRVWAqSymHtan4URfRGsXkJrm381AW6bW-pwzMR2eM4j9LgSwwt5qPHflvgFOQvDwmLr-smFgfR/s640/IMG_1347.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Where did this come from? We live in a world free from the western ideas of "beautiful"... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But its something deep inside <strike>her</strike> all of us that longs to be seen as beautiful and yet, a blockage- a lie- doubt is somehow planted into the soil of her soul. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>The accuser... the planter of lies.</i> </span></center>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN2LLzBWLe6KJpxjNvbZEDNZm5QijyKFEXmav6y_LDyVUiwkWnLM3cZpnuMed9hkIE5IAJOs9qiz41mAfSm2abI1AtwbYDf9W7FyDkwNLULmaL59rVom8zRhHPSseLB1b8BK98pM4GPlxz/s1600/IMG_1906.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN2LLzBWLe6KJpxjNvbZEDNZm5QijyKFEXmav6y_LDyVUiwkWnLM3cZpnuMed9hkIE5IAJOs9qiz41mAfSm2abI1AtwbYDf9W7FyDkwNLULmaL59rVom8zRhHPSseLB1b8BK98pM4GPlxz/s640/IMG_1906.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As we get the fresh cookies out of the oven, I offer a compliment to the chef... "Great job!" The compliment is met with resistance... "you did most of it" or "they're not that great." The inability to accept a compliment... or the quick deflection and minimization is offered. Oh how guilty are we to not accept a simple compliment with "thank you." Because it surely conflicts with that lie planted deep into us that says "You're really not that good... not that special." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>The accuser... the planter of doubts.</i> </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And me- the caretaker of this beautiful garden growing in front of me. I begin to pick out the weeds that lies have sown. Weeds that I recognize all too well. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I tell her of her great value... her great beauty simply because of <b>who she is</b>... which has <b>nothing</b> to do with skin color, the wave of hair, waist size, brain capacity, performance, or bank account. </span></center>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCbgHjXZDdTHl0niPRpev3_xQgiOFVNI2Ny5NhOd0iEU8Y-DOA3GVBt6hN_Tk9YDen21-RzztqNzTo8oKbFxSi4D0DvOCDhW4li_O2t0oO3iC2Z722kmg61GVuoiR1TMIxjU-7w5krRM1_/s1600/IMG_3814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCbgHjXZDdTHl0niPRpev3_xQgiOFVNI2Ny5NhOd0iEU8Y-DOA3GVBt6hN_Tk9YDen21-RzztqNzTo8oKbFxSi4D0DvOCDhW4li_O2t0oO3iC2Z722kmg61GVuoiR1TMIxjU-7w5krRM1_/s640/IMG_3814.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>Deceiving is the only way to contain the great influence built inside of you</i></b>... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">because to hold such <i>beauty.</i>..</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">such <i>love</i>...</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">such <i>compassion</i>...</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and <i>grace</i>...</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>fearlessness...</i></span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>brilliance and hope.</i>..</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>love</i> for the one who made <i>you</i>... </span></center>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">it is a most perfect package for being the change...</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">for doing great things... </span></i></b></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do not be deceived my sweet girl... Hold onto truth... Know that <b>you are enough</b>... God's grace is enough... your life, your hair, your eyes, your laugh... it's all enough. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Believe the beautiful He has created in you...</b> </span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-7221949925556574572015-07-18T05:29:00.004-07:002015-07-18T05:29:51.148-07:00The empty seat... <center>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There are some things in life that simply can't be enjoyed without someone in the seat next to you... behind you... or across from you.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ecclesiastes 4:9</span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-85035950868251297072015-07-10T13:08:00.001-07:002015-07-10T13:16:37.708-07:006 months in 1 post... Highlight Reel... <center>
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How does 6+ months go by without blogging? </span></center>
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Maybe its being consumed in all things Zambia... </span></center>
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Maybe it's the frustration of it taking HOURS to load a photo...</span></center>
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the daily 8 hour power outages... </span></center>
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or just plain laziness... (ok, it's probably this one)</span></center>
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Despite the INACTIVITY of my blog... the life is full of ACTIVITY... </span></center>
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Here's my weak attempt at catching up... </span></center>
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Our 3 days of Christmas before the malaria struck... ahhh...</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThT4MmMszywPxQSE9lJbQDQ6Fye7RMEBfzTx9PBe5N8Bp1hv1hSiwW79Cg0m_-ui0UzURgTkpeZvpsDvBlipsRCur3CG5brippAoxq9GVU8EP5zrkVVqGfwMybYk7McJe65iMI1hCPqab/s1600/DSC09869.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjThT4MmMszywPxQSE9lJbQDQ6Fye7RMEBfzTx9PBe5N8Bp1hv1hSiwW79Cg0m_-ui0UzURgTkpeZvpsDvBlipsRCur3CG5brippAoxq9GVU8EP5zrkVVqGfwMybYk7McJe65iMI1hCPqab/s400/DSC09869.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Soccer tournaments that landed my 2 bigs in the Nationals!</span><br />
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Following the Soccer bus early... Enjoying the African Sunrise...</span><br />
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Celebrating with Friends after Z's first U13 Soccer game...</span><br />
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Opening our Student Life Program... 48 kids from G8-10 in boarding facilities...</span><br />
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Ukubyala without any power... Be the Light...</span><br />
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Art of Marriage at Nsobe... Good & Wild times with all our staff at Lifesong...<br />
Awesome time with Phil & Starla... our marriage coaches!</span><br />
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The Purchase of this property in which my heart has desired for 4 years! It's the new home to Girls Student Life! Ah-May-Zing! Tsangalala... Let's Rejoice!</span><br />
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My Friday and Saturday Nights by the fire pit... debating constellations and listening to NJ the DJ...</span><br />
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My G8s studying before exams in my Guidance and Counseling Class... because I'm nice the week of exams... only. ;)</span><br />
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The next generation of Lifesong Football... Z's best friends...</span><br />
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And all this activity... occasionally I steal away to my room for some juice and Jesus...</span><br />
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Mwaiseni... Welcome to our school... Here's a little peek for those who've never been here (which you are always welcome... )</span><br />
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Porridge for Breakfast... HOT... because it's winter here! </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ukubyala... Impromtu Praise and Worship with friends near and far...</span><br />
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KG and Benson planning their "song"... which was indeed the CUTEST THING EVER... would love to upload the video but i'm kinda pushing it with all these photos... ha. They sang together "Jesus Never Fails"... just the 2 of them... still.my.heart.</span><br />
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Us gals waiting on the frittas to finish so we can eat something yummy! Outdoor kitchen goodness...</span><br />
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This boy... ahhh... how he has grown into such an amazing young man... Serious about school... serious about life...</span><br />
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These, on the other hand, are still enjoying boyhood... to the fullest... Pray for these boys... their smiles cover a multitude of pains...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
Me and Skip Bo...</span><br />
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The Crew... Yes, they are out of control and one can't possibly get a decent photo...</span><br />
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Which requires more of this...</span><br />
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And these guys... my life... my heart...</span><br />
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How can one love someone so much anyway?</span><br />
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And that's a wrap...</span><br />
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So... that means I'm all caught up, right? You didn't miss a thing! We opened boarding, had an awesome soccer season, fun family time, teams, growth... and so much more! I'd love to promise that I'm back to blog land... but I might be lying. One thing is for sure... life is full and active even if the blog isn't. My journal is... and maybe one day I'll be brave enough to start writing again... love from Zambia... </center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-53071301508098315472014-12-26T07:17:00.001-08:002014-12-26T07:21:00.235-08:00And He whispered... Immanuel<center>
You know that excitement that starts to build in a child once the tinsel hits the nearest store, or when the first advertisement of the greatest toy shows, or the first hint that Christmas is near? We all know a little about that excitement... well... not ALL of us... but the ones lucky enough to have been born into a privileged lifestyle. (never mind me seeing 2 boys i love dearly planting their garden on Christmas... just another day)</center>
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Its so easy for me to have certain expectations of Christmas... even in the middle of Africa. I know what I want it to be like for my kids, how I want the house to smell... the things I want to bake, the gifts I want to give... the anticipated laughter. </center>
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But, yesterday was Christmas... and it couldn't have been further from my childhood memories... or my expectations. I found myself spinning in pain, high fevers, and difficulty even staying "present" (no pun intended) So I said "Shane we have to let the kids open presents so I can go to the hospital." Because of course I didn't want to miss the joy on their faces. Half way through, I couldn't do it anymore and a sweet friend, Kristie drove me to the hospital (at 9 am) while Shane tried to make Christmas as wonderful as possible for the kids. (and you were awesome as usual)</center>
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After getting there and settled, it was decided that I would be admitted. On Christmas Day. sigh. AFter an amazing show of affection from my friend, I sent her home... after all, who in the world wants to be in a hospital on Christmas? </center>
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I laid there drifting in and out of sleep... there wasn't a sound but the creaking ceiling fan. (because of course there is no AC) I started to let my mind wonder "What are the kids doing right now?" "Are they going to be sad I'm not there?" "How is Shane going to cook dinner?" "I wish I was home (like home home... you know where I could dig into some Christmas goodness with my mom, grandmother, aunt, and 2 something like sisters)" and I really wanted to cry. I glanced over and stared at the empty chair near my bed... and this is what happened: HE WHISPERED "IMMANUEL...I AM with YOU." Then I felt like the grinch's heart growing and growing. Christmas isn't found around a table full of food, or a tree full of presents... or all the many other things we want to make it. Christmas is about ONE THING: God becoming our Immanuel. </center>
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Because of Christmas, I can be in a hospital half way around the world on the best holiday ever... away from ALL my family... and still have Christmas. Because He is with me. He is with you. He is ours. And what else could I ever want? </center>
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So then... I began to cry... not out of sadness, but out of gratefulness that my present came from HIM yesterday... He spoke to me... the most comforting words "I'm with you" and just the right time... and just the right place. So, despite the fact that I type this with an IV remaining in my hand and my fever starting to spike once again... it's ok, because of Immanuel. Oh how HE LOVES ME. </center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-33427222623222861862014-11-29T13:20:00.003-08:002014-11-29T13:20:50.482-08:00Trading dreams... <center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of the things I love about Zambia is the spontaneousness in life... and the unpredictability... We usually say that one thing is predictable... and that is unpredictability. :)</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This morning I woke up and had one of team mates came in and said "the little boys are outside"... my first statement was "I told them yesterday no playing until Monday, because today is the party!" </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He followed that by... "well, they say their sister is missing. " My response: "oh! let me get my shoes!" </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After much search and effort... police reports, tears, and a Lifesong mini search party... She was found! The things that go through your mind when one of your grade 2 students are missing can down right scare a person! </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I quickly had to move on to decorating and final details of our Grade 7 and 9 party... as well as send my hubs off to the Dr. as he isn't feeling well, possibly malaria. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The party begins... music... dancing... food... and slide shows... </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I speak. God's handprint on all of our lives is evident. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I first landed in this great place... they were small... dirty... rough. What I see now isn't that. They are clean... smart... amazing. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I didn't do that... God did that... through Lifesong... through teachers... through our staff families who are willing to do the hard things: </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">did you know that At least 4 of our Zambian staff families are fostering kids from our school? </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That this morning it wasn't the police, but classmates who found the girl. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It wasn't the student's father who comforted and counseled her, but her teacher and our maintenance man? </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Did you know that we had to TURN AWAY some of our staff from being houseparents in our new boarding program because we don't have enough homes built yet?</span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do you know how awesome THAT is? </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Godly Zambian adults pouring their lives into vulnerable Zambian children. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today the grade 9s wrote and recited a poem. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of the lines said "you are sacrificing your dreams to make ours come true." </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It's true... our staff could make more money elsewhere... so could our family. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"you are sacrificing your dreams to make ours come true. " </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Trading our dreams for God's never leaves us with regret... this is worth it. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's worth it to witness transformation before your eyes. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's worth it to hear the laughs from a classroom. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's worth it to be a parent in their lives. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is worth. it. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They are worth. it. </span></center>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jesus is worth. it. </span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-80497033562087408932014-11-10T21:04:00.000-08:002014-11-10T21:07:36.297-08:00When the Tooth Fairy doesn't come... <center>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm sad, mommy"... were the words I woke up to this morning. "Why?" I asked in a foggy daze at 5:15 a m. "Because the tooth fairy didn't come." </span></center>
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Heart sinks.</span></center>
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Epic Fail. </span></center>
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Chalk another one up for me and it's only 5:15 am. </span></center>
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"How did I forget?" </span></center>
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"What kind of mother am I?"</span></center>
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"My parents never forgot."</span></center>
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And the guilt cycle begins before the rooster crows and the day begins. If you're a mom, you know the cycle... that deeply felt searing guilt. right? </span></center>
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For me, as any mom, the guilts and failure stack pretty high. </span></center>
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I've robbed the kids from their grandparents</span></center>
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They are missing out on so many traditional "American" things</span></center>
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My light skinned blondies are going to get skin cancer in this African Sun</span></center>
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I never got around to.... doing that craft... giving out the ice cream.... reading that book (the list is endless)</span></center>
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They have to share me with so many other kids</span></center>
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I couldn't cut it homeschooling and doing ministry</span></center>
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and now... THE TOOTH FAIRY DIDN'T COME!!!</span></center>
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What's next? "The Christmas Santa forgot?"</span></center>
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As moms, we all beat ourselves up over so many things. I only listed about 1/1000 of the guilts and failures I have... pertaining to 3/5 of my kids. 2/5 have a list all to themselves which is probably much longer and more complicated... </span></center>
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So often times I just think... "Why me?" Why did God choose me for this job? Why did He plop me in the middle of Africa when I was already in over my head as a mom in my own culture, with things I was comfortable and familiar with? Then... HOW am I going to do this well? How do I erase the memory "the tooth fairy forgot me" ... and all the other times I fail. </span></center>
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So, it's true... in our weakness HE is made perfect. In every failure, there is an opportunity to point to one who never fails. In our second guessing, we can cling to his sovereignty. </span></center>
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So, today... it's 6:15 am... and I will get up... "shake it off" in the wise words of Taylor Swift... fill myself with his TRUTHS... and pray for the ability to SEE opportunities to love my kids well and let God's grace cover all the past failures... and many failures to come. </span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-84026538722544369232014-08-13T13:36:00.001-07:002014-08-13T13:37:37.435-07:00What it feels like... <center>
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What does it feel like to sentence someone to death? While I'm certainly not 100% certain... I feel like today, I did just that. Not necessarily a literal death, but hope died today in my office for one young man. </span></center>
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He's one of the most intelligent, charismatic, beautiful young men that has ever set foot on our campus. This young man... I've been walking with him for 3 years. We've walked through major abuse, removal, reunification, pornography, lying, stealing, and now even more difficult things that not only effect him, but innocent people, too. We've done counseling... time away... controlled environment... mercy... discipline... only to find a heart that has hardened by life's hurts. </span></center>
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What I wouldn't give to go back 10 years... hold him when he was young... feed him when his mother was too sick to do it... nurture him when his father died. correct him when he came home late, or was choosing bad friends... sing over him songs of love... tell him that Jesus loves him... and that he is certainly special because he was GOOD. </span></center>
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His burdens of life have become too much. Addictions in place of self control, deception in place of honesty... but even now... I'm still holding on to the truth that Jesus can. </span></center>
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Jesus can change a man. I need a Saul to Paul experience with this one. </span></center>
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While it looks as if I have given up, be assured, I have not. It is sometimes in life's greatest disappointments, trials, or disciplines that true change can occur. It isn't one I like to hand out, but when all other options have been through... again and again and again... one has to stop sewing seed on the rock. </span></center>
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As I saw him walk out of our office... I could barely stand it. I felt like the father to the prodigal son... no... the mother. Painful. Hoping one day, we will see him again in a better condition. The reality is, however, unless something changes... he is walking out to a very long road... where education will be difficult to find, jobs impossible, food will be rare. </span></center>
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I can't stand it. I feel like I have sentenced him to a hopeless life. I held his mother's hand... and we cried together... recounting how many times we've begged him to do the right things... no remorse... no promise of change. Hope died for her today. Hopes she had for her son's life. No one wants to be the mother to Saul... Judas... Samson... but the truth is... it could be any one of us. </span></center>
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So today is a sad day for me. One of our firstborn children has left our program heading into a life that isn't promising of hope apart from Jesus. I can't stand it. I also can't rescue him. I've tried. I've failed. But Jesus... </span></center>
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"But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with CHRIST..." Eph 2: 4-5</span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-31748391143507474502014-08-03T23:49:00.002-07:002014-08-03T23:49:34.548-07:00What love looks like... <center>
Home again... the early morning chatter on the farm before harvest, the smell of laundry from outside, the dust settling on every square inch of me, and oh the children. Yesterday someone said "the mother of the village must be home because there were very few children here and now, they are everywhere." Mother of the Village. I'm not sure about that title... but I certainly know it takes a village. </center>
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While all these things are the beauty that settle around me... nothing compares to yesterday. One of my bigs has proven to have such deep love for his birth family. We always know it is there. We encourage it, and quite frankly, love them a lot as well. (seriously, his grandmother is one of my favorite people I've met here) </center>
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Unprompted, on our time away, he thoughtfully gathered gifts for each one of his family members, especially the children. "will this fit?" He would ask. Thought. Time. His own money. </center>
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Yesterday was the delivery. He has never forgotten them. He carries his birth family with him through life. I can see this. He carefully bagged each bag for each family member. I could see the anticipation and excitement building. </center>
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He was gone for maybe 2 hours. Upon his return, he had some cousins with him, which he had never invited over. We welcomed them, and said they were welcome in. He showed them his home... taught them how to play games, and laughed and laughed. They are the ones he grew up with. The ones before us. They are his family. </center>
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Afterwards, he and I were able to talk a bit about his visit. I could see that the burden of their need weighs so heavily upon him. There were things that were unsettling to him, where he coached even older family members to be more responsible and mature. He said "how can you not help?" That is love. That's the love that makes someone come outside of themselves... their own selfishness... and give. "You can give without love, but cannot love without giving" a pastor recently told me. </center>
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To see my son, who once felt he had nothing to give... give in such a generous way... without being prompted or guided... is amazing. </center>
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It's what love looks like... </center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-26160114241682265782014-08-02T14:23:00.000-07:002014-08-02T14:23:01.019-07:00Ebola... <center>
I believe that so many people have been reading about the recent outbreak of Ebola in West Africa, and the sadness of lives taken from this disease. My heart is breaking for so many... especially fellow missionaries who are serving in Sierra Leone that we know and love so much, along with Lifesong Liberia. They are currently packing up and evacuating their home and ministry until it is safe for them to return. I can't imagine what they are going through and the thoughts and emotions they are experiencing. To have the luxury of leaving alone... can make you feel guilt ridden and broken. To be uncertain of if the faces and people you have served with... cried with... laughed with... will be there upon your return... unimaginable. The children...the widows...the ministry leaders... </center>
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The love that Christ gives them to love is truly unconditional, deep, and real. </center>
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Please pray for the people of West Africa, and for the health care workers who are literally putting their lives at risk each day... some even loosing their lives to save others. </center>
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The suffering is real... the people are real... this is impacting people we love dearly. Please pray with us. Pray for a SUPERNATURAL healing and eradication of this disease. Pray God sized stories are formed and that HE alone would be glorified even in suffering. </center>
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I can't imagine leaving the children I LOVE like my own under these circumstances. Pray for Tom and Becky who serve and are sent from our church body. Pray for Lifesong Liberia and the children there that we serve. </center>
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p.s. People have asked about us and Ebola. There are no reported cases in our area of Africa. We are literally 3,000 miles from this disease... that's the distance from New York to California. </center>
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Please Stop and Pray. </center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5180102193705019426.post-36064069427798281662014-07-25T06:23:00.000-07:002014-07-25T06:23:01.969-07:00the greatest of these... LOVE<center>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sitting and listening to sounds that only the country can bring, I'm reflecting on all that I have experienced and had to journey through during this break away from Zambia. While the world has been spinning around me... appointments, activities, family fun (you know, the stuff you see on Facebook)... inside myself has been another story. One that's still "in process." My mind and body had to begin processing all that the last 3 years has brought us: joy, pain, fear, accomplishment, grief, exhaustion, spiritual depletion, deep relationships, loss... And the conflicts begin to stir around. 2 worlds begin to collide. I belong to both, or do I belong to either? I shut down inside. </span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The reality of what I am doing sits in. Fear comes to live. </span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I beg at the feet of Jesus to settle my mind and heart (and maybe my hormones)... to help me see things the way HE does. It was so dark... but now I'm starting to see light... What is bringing the light? LOVE. </span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As I was driving down the road, a phrase of a song sticks to me "it wasn't nails that held you to the cross, it was love." Love is a powerful thing. Christ's love is even more powerful. And as I sit shortly distanced from a dark place, it is love that drives me forward. His love can heal me. His love will direct me in the days ahead. I know this because He is near to the broken hearted. And, that's me. (so there. a moment of confession) </span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As empty as I have found myself... I have never been empty of love. I deeply love my family, now more than ever. I deeply love all the people, in both my worlds, and that will NEVER change. Despite the hard, I will peel my heart off of this place, my family, my deep friends, my familiar... and I will place it back onto those God has blessed me with in Zambia. Just to think about both is equally painful and joyful. (the roller coaster is making me nauseous) But, those who do not love... do not hurt. And those that love deeply, hurt deeply. </span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Unfortunately, fortunately... I love so deeply. </span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And so... I spend my last 5 days in this peaceful place grieving those I will say goodbye to... the life I thought I would have... AND EQUALLY daydreaming about hugging and laughing with those I left in a place so dear to my heart... and where our life is now. </span></center>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you Lord, that you said the greatest of these is LOVE. Thank you for giving me the capacity to experience it... and to give it away. </span></center>
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The McBshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105215254593831668noreply@blogger.com2