tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48208568738161276012024-02-21T05:52:54.369-05:00Christians... Criminals ... and Chickensjethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-495736996319793182011-03-14T06:42:00.004-04:002011-03-16T11:21:12.671-04:00Rattlesnake Roundup #44.. Claxton, Evans County, GA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1usWIXWuuEigsCbrSfBdNLmgROJN0e3KZ8QlmNeMTkTe99A8oSo2Aq9CsnV3MEwq5B4YcxaaQNpbp2-CU90rbrSGv1VuwcNxm9xNck7gdc8rl0JbaGLwvfEKoNIdef74BTLXaX1MLS_1/s1600/IMG_9558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1usWIXWuuEigsCbrSfBdNLmgROJN0e3KZ8QlmNeMTkTe99A8oSo2Aq9CsnV3MEwq5B4YcxaaQNpbp2-CU90rbrSGv1VuwcNxm9xNck7gdc8rl0JbaGLwvfEKoNIdef74BTLXaX1MLS_1/s320/IMG_9558.jpg" width="227" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Z0ntqUnyf2Fuixh1lJi4bYCGeohZVoQAuQHzwzJcvwYilxk3mCuMomSz0Edk6MuMHt8DaZITZ-hsSegWzEI4RdNTDABcMofKl73N1hb_alVfCoPXvMWYQS0mJPW7NCmV_3J8cQrsIHLu/s1600/IMG_9543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have had the wonderful blessing of sharing scripture and truth to a lovely group of 4th and 5th grade girls these past few months. What a blessing they have been! I wonder if they understand the true significance in their position as "daughters of the King". Many of them have claimed Jesus as Lord and Savior of their life. But do they really understand the implications and significance of such a status?? I pray they will not live life as though they are mere paper plates... for their life is like that of fine china.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I pray they rebuke the lies of satan.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I pray they denounce the influence of the unholy.</div>I pray they reject enticements of this world.<br />
I pray.<br />
<br />
"Let the king be enthralled by your beauty; <br />
honor him, for he is your lord." Ps. 45:11<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" style="-moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none;" /></a>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-44067063397292542902011-02-03T14:38:00.003-05:002011-02-03T21:05:41.398-05:00You can thank us for those chicken nuggetts!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRI4i-QEH115T8frCCLzH2FGRIHg6a4vuQEB2XVWpHCLqgQOaRIicClH4fOdqJKDx9_yNo8tvnQbMGlLiUFne5L4KJ14PNACHUqdCLHcR-lyP6v-TCxSfHZCCoxcJz9EzFqwQxaTrgHpj/s1600/IMG_8695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRI4i-QEH115T8frCCLzH2FGRIHg6a4vuQEB2XVWpHCLqgQOaRIicClH4fOdqJKDx9_yNo8tvnQbMGlLiUFne5L4KJ14PNACHUqdCLHcR-lyP6v-TCxSfHZCCoxcJz9EzFqwQxaTrgHpj/s320/IMG_8695.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQwMUgW05vdGH6pKEveUUJznZdWoBWMve-1aXItBGwgrmTHD18Q2nq3CyBUCz1nPtDVMCPlhccZsnY2pcm_Fy4ynjQLZ1e5oeNQnBOUTCt-eGvRwzaheAjOA4KtqPE_xuOiXasBXFig-O/s1600/IMG_8696.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQwMUgW05vdGH6pKEveUUJznZdWoBWMve-1aXItBGwgrmTHD18Q2nq3CyBUCz1nPtDVMCPlhccZsnY2pcm_Fy4ynjQLZ1e5oeNQnBOUTCt-eGvRwzaheAjOA4KtqPE_xuOiXasBXFig-O/s320/IMG_8696.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5fAkpui5_LuoAMBC_nm4HfDx_dRYtyCnmdXa2mknw69y4T3YH1XUc8FjPIBEJjXg8fbagILhHqazPDtQ46AegpZkH01lskH5pAF_VHHY2SltQVrjbXltW1riwfffzaVZx6Q0-luN5h6e4/s1600/IMG_8704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5fAkpui5_LuoAMBC_nm4HfDx_dRYtyCnmdXa2mknw69y4T3YH1XUc8FjPIBEJjXg8fbagILhHqazPDtQ46AegpZkH01lskH5pAF_VHHY2SltQVrjbXltW1riwfffzaVZx6Q0-luN5h6e4/s320/IMG_8704.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Living with two chicken houses in our backyard provides lots of opportunity for Tyler to enjoy the smell of good country living. Tyler and his mommy live in the city (ha... is Claxton, GA a city?? yes, it is a city! Why do you ask??) We actually have more chickens in our two houses than Claxton has residents. I'm thinking the census workers missed our chicken city. There are less than 3,000 residents in Claxton. We have on an average 5,500 biddies to birds. <br />
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But the joy of watching Tyler.. watch the chickens is sweet.. funny and downright hilarious at times. Let's face it Randall and I have come to a point there the joy has lessened (especially with the cost of LP gas out of the roof.. it makes profit a dream away). But Tyler doesn't know .. and obvioulsy isn't ready for such reality... so he takes these little funny looking 2-legged feathered friends and stands in awe. Depending on the cluckers age... biddies to full-breasted... makes a huge difference to a two year old. (I do believe there's a whole 'nuther blog in that statement!)<br />
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Sometimes life is better that way, not to truly understand everything involved. Trusting in God's sovereignty in life is becoming more and more real to me. All Tyler knows is that those chickens are cute... funny... and yes, stinky! But so is life sometimes... and that's where trust.. faith.. and submission kicks in. Best to keep your feathers down... and not ruffled. Life is short.... ask one of our chickens...<br />
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<i><span style="color: #783f04;"><b>"Many are the plans in a person’s heart, </b></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #783f04;"><b>but it is the LORD’s purpose that prevails."</b></span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #783f04;"><b>Proverbs 19:21</b></span></i><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" style="-moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none;" /></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-22908129721607078832011-02-02T23:21:00.000-05:002011-02-02T23:21:34.224-05:00Sippin' Lemonade Time!<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdp43D8wJSMkCDbHMsJdhGsJD8Empesjy28nUyMYDIa_mobqKj_ZjB9r7W1OyQ4MGM5dIOqgfciKJQMkwoV_8lQcOdyeYJKJwK7tiMBcEW3htQFPMQijT0gTvDNXZDhePiwa9-Auzz7U9m/s1600/IMG_8952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdp43D8wJSMkCDbHMsJdhGsJD8Empesjy28nUyMYDIa_mobqKj_ZjB9r7W1OyQ4MGM5dIOqgfciKJQMkwoV_8lQcOdyeYJKJwK7tiMBcEW3htQFPMQijT0gTvDNXZDhePiwa9-Auzz7U9m/s320/IMG_8952.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I can't believe I haven't shared about Wonderful Wednesdays! Sherry and I call it... "Sippin' Lemonade on the Front Porch". It's absolutely wonderful! The Parker's drink on the floor in the above pic... yep, that's a diet coke! But our sippin' lemonade.. is more like "taste and see."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
It's amazing.. totally amazing and an obvious gift of grace, that God allows me and my dear friend Sherry to teach a Children's Sunday School Class. WHAT JOY!! We have been teaching on God's providence for the past 24 weeks... and every Wednesday around 5pm, we meet for a sweet time of prayer, studying God's Word, preparation for our lesson and "girl time." The curriculum is 40 weeks of study on "His Purpose Will Stand"... and it is WONDERFUL!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We have been on many a rabbit chasin' during our lemonade sippin'. That's what grazing on the Word of God does... </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And what is up with the picture??? I started a CHALLENGE this week prompted by a blogger friend to take (and post) a picture a week for the remaining weeks of 2011. It's a photo journal of just what 2011 is doing to me. Oh dear! Good thing that I didn't start this photographic escapade in January. Scary thought!! So I started out my week, and my new blog with this pic! My lemonade buddy snapped my pic... so there you have it! (fyi..we don't normally sit on the floor... )</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">If you don't take time to "sit on the front porch and sip on some sweet lemonade"... seriously, you should start. Find a friend... grab the Word.... pour a glass.... and Rock on!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who trusts in Him." Ps. 34:8<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" style="-moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none;" /></a></i> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-87544497343038614262011-01-30T22:03:00.004-05:002011-02-02T21:33:20.593-05:00Southern Belle...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrYNoKj-4iiC08Y1avyHcO5EiPa3iifdZ0KWRCDKS0mLrlxSxMknd40-4V-xFz6cB_9Ko3Nd_LDXThFVl0vfLjMoBZkxM3EYk_2ojxNyM05z-FqBACKrG-6jnHEHG9AW7uJZmqzVdSWG3y/s1600/new+growth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="327" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrYNoKj-4iiC08Y1avyHcO5EiPa3iifdZ0KWRCDKS0mLrlxSxMknd40-4V-xFz6cB_9Ko3Nd_LDXThFVl0vfLjMoBZkxM3EYk_2ojxNyM05z-FqBACKrG-6jnHEHG9AW7uJZmqzVdSWG3y/s400/new+growth.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">I took a walk outside today. I don't believe I have walked in my yard since November. I have been held captive. It's so safe inside my house. Not that I fear going outside. Other than a few red necks down the road <a href="http://www.claxtonenterprise.com/v2/content.aspx?ID=28610&MemberID=1304">(famous red necks I might add..)</a>, we live in a quiet peaceful area of South Georgia. A few farm trucks.. a few four-wheelers... and a random stray dog. And of course... us. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">But I've been inside. Blinds closed except on random days. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit;">It's been cold. December and January have brought a chill factor that would make a "well diggers hinney" shiver. We haven't experienced the cold that others have .. but for South Georgia, it's been a cold winter.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">It's been foggy. I don't mean the typical fog that comes from condensation. I mean the fog that comes from your inners .. I've just wanted to stay inside. Remember, it's safe.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">But today, I went outside. The breeze brushed my face and the sun kissed my check. I took my camera... my friend. It was like grasping the hand of a child. Guess which one was the child. It was good.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Picture taking didn't seem to be an option. Walking this dreary landscape was like walking in a theater where nothing but black and white movies play. Dull. Dreary. But yet, the sun was shining. The only thing shining. Front yard... back yard... colorless. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">I worked up the courage to take a look at my "herb garden". It's planted to the side of my house and I have always delighted in the fact that I could look at my "herb garden" from my bedroom window. Did I mention there are only two herbs in that garden.... it's turned into a rose garden with a few other interesting characters. This little garden was a summer project by Justin and my mom. A summer adventure.. I've held on to it... even though it now shows the wear and tear of 20 years . It has survived the cold.. the heat.. heavey down pours... and the fog (my fog..) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Much work is needed in that garden. Fall came.. winter is here.. and neglect set in... never clipping.. never grooming. Abandoned. How did I forget to give it a "winter" clipping. Oh yes... I've been safe. Blinds closed. In the fog. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Today my camera.. my friend... became my bird dog. It sniffed out this small splash of color among the death of winter. This little southern belle was attached gracefully to a branch.. from a rose bush given to me by a friend. During the summer this rose bush outshines them all... but winter has not been friendly to my dear friend. However, a small appearance of life, was reaching out and appeared to be holding on every so tightly. Embracing the warmth .. for fear it might soon leave. (yes, thunder in January means frost in May.. at least that what we say in these parts). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cc0000; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">It was good to capture this colorful "friend" with the camera today. Had I stayed inside.. I would have missed this glimpse of growth... struggle for significance... desire to maintain. I'm not sure this splash of color will be around very long... February and March can be so cruel. But today, this "friend" was out and embracing a moment of sunshine... waiting on someone like me to find it's beauty. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><i>"Then God said, “Let the land sprout with vegetation—every sort of seed-bearing plant, and trees that grow seed-bearing fruit. These seeds will then produce the kinds of plants and trees from which they came.” And that is what happened. The land produced vegetation—all sorts of seed-bearing plants, and trees with seed-bearing fruit. Their seeds produced plants and trees of the same kind. And God saw that it was good." Gen. 1:11-12</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"></div><i><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" style="-moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none;" /></a> </i>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-9895492112914795622011-01-28T22:23:00.004-05:002011-02-02T21:33:51.105-05:00A to Z...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_0FpGIGw7p7cg28wKBeamipb7OYPfsFVnHV5p5dBUe4CjsQfPMybyMS_RBV7A2zZM3stAajUTMI_FDFIwVV9isaJnDhaonuD6KAyV_YzP-I3YyVG8zyZjEhmrugo4UoU1VgfFHv4EsPLi/s1600/Tyler+1+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_0FpGIGw7p7cg28wKBeamipb7OYPfsFVnHV5p5dBUe4CjsQfPMybyMS_RBV7A2zZM3stAajUTMI_FDFIwVV9isaJnDhaonuD6KAyV_YzP-I3YyVG8zyZjEhmrugo4UoU1VgfFHv4EsPLi/s320/Tyler+1+2011.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Adorable</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b> Bashful</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Cute</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Darlin'</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Energetic</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Fun</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Gifted</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Handsome</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Intelligent</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Jo Jo</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Keeper</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Lovable</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Magical</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Nice</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Ours</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Perfect</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Quick </b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Runner</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Sweet</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Ticklish </b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Unique</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Valentine</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Wonderful</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>X-traspecial</b></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><b>Young</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Zip-pe-de-do-dah!</b></div><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"</span></b>I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. I say: </i><br />
<i>My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please." Is. 46:10</i><br />
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<i><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" style="-moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none;" /></a> </i></div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-62918662201362747202011-01-25T05:46:00.003-05:002011-01-28T16:37:44.276-05:00A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi449-ajWBazCSIf8Jc9GPAd7wfNYNTqryd1T0PrkhxLbaP1a3ovWFmYwxok5UGVqMSz77HYpj07rNffjSMlNmRZUmci6Ru6ze-GYf1rq2zcJJ8nfRe-2YVx8gyH_glJvpayD4__Ff23Ww1/s1600-h/mannington+house.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311928525635133666" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi449-ajWBazCSIf8Jc9GPAd7wfNYNTqryd1T0PrkhxLbaP1a3ovWFmYwxok5UGVqMSz77HYpj07rNffjSMlNmRZUmci6Ru6ze-GYf1rq2zcJJ8nfRe-2YVx8gyH_glJvpayD4__Ff23Ww1/s400/mannington+house.jpg" style="display: block; height: 291px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">It has been stated that during the time of Martin Luther only 3-5% of the population could read the written word. In order to send a message or to just simply get one across, the messenger had to be extremely resourceful. When Luther lit the fire of the Protestant Reformation, he fanned the flames using images disguised as art. </div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">There is something about imagery through pictures that conjure up thoughts of present.. thoughts of past. Photography has taken on whole new meaning in today's world. Just check out your facebook page.. everyone is a model. Photographers are a dime a dozen (notice I didn't say good photographs). The camera clicks and instantly its "out there" for the world to see and conjure. Scary..</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The picture of my dad's home place in Mannington, Kentucky didn't bring a thousand words to my mind. But it did conjure up a few... </div><br />
Black and white TV<br />
Wizard of Oz<br />
Happy <br />
Double glass doors with panes<br />
Long hallway<br />
Christmas Eves<br />
Delightful <br />
Screened-in front porch<br />
Pin Ball Machine<br />
Bicycle riding<br />
Thanksgiving<br />
Carefree <br />
Big backyard .. rolling down slopes<br />
Big Trees<br />
Fenced in front yard<br />
Well<br />
Cigarette smoke <br />
Two-story garage<br />
Clubhouse<br />
Adventurous <br />
Lightning bolt<br />
Crackers and milk<br />
Superman<br />
Tub baths<br />
Comic books <br />
Weather vane<br />
CB Radio<br />
Laughter <br />
TV Guides<br />
Fireplace<br />
Death<br />
Suicide<br />
Confusion<br />
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Just a few words... not a thousand. I like this picture... by a good photographer. Excellent photography.<br />
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<i> <sup>"</sup> For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you ...." 1 Tim. 1:6</i><br />
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<div></div></div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-39518001408927488922011-01-25T05:09:00.002-05:002011-02-10T19:40:13.714-05:00Get Over It..<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEU_CZ_QTgFENrCdW01-jfDgCKObwSItllc2qHfim9dIBT-N33vJOvZtDHyJTLKSFURI2KLrnX-NXimj7B2u-gMQbCGwyoVNomtyD1oLBcCGUp6adgvoPXnH7ANzrWxAAFop4Pgffp5G0b/s1600-h/duck.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311928040779011154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEU_CZ_QTgFENrCdW01-jfDgCKObwSItllc2qHfim9dIBT-N33vJOvZtDHyJTLKSFURI2KLrnX-NXimj7B2u-gMQbCGwyoVNomtyD1oLBcCGUp6adgvoPXnH7ANzrWxAAFop4Pgffp5G0b/s320/duck.jpg" style="float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 257px;" /></a></div><br />
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Sometimes I just need to let go of things ... like water off a ducks' back. Let it roll ...<br />
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Now if I could just convince my brain of this simple truth. <br />
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<i>"Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes." </i> <i>Matt. 6:34 </i><br />
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</div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-8126235246182746932011-01-22T17:00:00.007-05:002011-01-28T16:39:20.679-05:00Dusting Up Memories...<div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvHFXTTSz2duh3K8lf2qZ_AOk-o0cnH0cYvPVKxaIkbqb17ClKBg342V2z8f9I_zzrpb_r5172G6Tcq6WAgSrT4ctiEdxM42A6OIHVpfPTa7_Sbz_ot4fpUv6RLHwLNC5cjrZEdgFI7CxX/s1600/justin+and+jordy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvHFXTTSz2duh3K8lf2qZ_AOk-o0cnH0cYvPVKxaIkbqb17ClKBg342V2z8f9I_zzrpb_r5172G6Tcq6WAgSrT4ctiEdxM42A6OIHVpfPTa7_Sbz_ot4fpUv6RLHwLNC5cjrZEdgFI7CxX/s320/justin+and+jordy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jordy & Justin</td></tr>
</tbody></table>It's Saturday and my delight is to clean my house this day. I am serious. It's my futile attempt at being a tiny "smidgen" of a Proverbs 31 gal. She had a clean house.. so shall I, at least one day of the week and that being Saturday. I shall not worry about the other six days. (It's not like I'm home to see it..)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But today, I clean.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I found a gift today. Yes, I often do when cleaning. Sometimes it's a nickel, dime, penny or a lost sock. Today, it was a memory. A memory of Christmas 2006 when I made an attempt at sharing my poetic flair with hubby's family. But to quote my boys... it was in fact an .. <i>epic fail. </i>My boys are naturals at evaluating my successes and failures. I remember this particular "performance" was one that they didn't rate highly.. unless hiding under a table .. hiding behind their father ... rates a high mark. Don't get me wrong... I truly believe they would have given me an "E" for effort, but I wasn't on my way to the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry. <i><br />
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I don't know.... maybe they (the in-laws) enjoyed it. I honestly don't recall a word being said after I read it. Who knows?? But I remember feverishly penning these words. And to find this poem appearing under my dresser.. (okay, remember I only clean one day a week with cleaning under the dresser every five years)... was like God's gift to me this day. And it made me laugh. I like laughing. If you live with Justin and Jordy, you laugh.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was Christmas 2006 (exactly five years since I had last been under the dresser.) Randall's brother, sister and their families joined us for a Christmas meal. Now I'm no Paula Deene.... so I had to think of a clever way to masquerade my lack of culinary skill. My thinking went like this... "I'll make them feel special with a small gift!" (Candles that smelled like fantastic flavors of ice cream) and a poem. Certainly their feeling of "special" doesn't need to be linked to my cooking skills. (And later you will see it didn't need to be linked to my writing skills.. oh my!)<br />
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I clearly remember reciting the poem.. handing out the candles.. and then thinking.. girlfriend, you are a dork. If I could have crawled under the kitchen table I would have. (I clean under the kitchen table more often than under the dresser).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Oh well, it was a memory. And as I re-read this poem, the "dork sensation" was still there .. but it felt good. Not that I remember feeling and looking like a dork, or that I actually had people over for FOOD.... but that I had a longing for others to know.. what I know. So here.. let me share this gift with you today. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: red;">"From the Randall Tippins Family"</span> (okay, so I started out with a truly ridiculous title. My family had nothing to do with the writing of this poem.. nor did they contribute to the purchase of the candles. If I could go back.. I'd possibly change the title.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>Today is celebrated with family & friends,</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>to what do we claim this day?</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>It's the mark of new beginnings </i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>2007 is on the way!</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>Enjoy your steak and potato... </i> <span style="color: black;">(I told you I was no Paula Deene)</span><i><br />
</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><em>a little salad and garlic bread will do!</em> <span style="color: black;">(from a bag and a box..)</span></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>And have we mentioned the ice cream dessert in the freezer... </i><span style="color: black;">(now that stuff was good.. no lie)</span><i><br />
</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>save some room.. your gonna want some too!</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>We hope you enjoy your present..</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>t'wis bought for this special day!</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>Lighting up a candle is simple..</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>But what does it truly say??</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>May the glow remind you of Moses ..</i><br />
<i>The man who spent time with God..</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>His face shone in brilliance ... </i><br />
<i>causing people to run where he trod.</i><br />
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<i>He covered his face in great reverence.. </i><br />
<i>The people were trembling in fear</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>Our prayer for you .. spend time with God</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>and others will know who you've been near.</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>The scent of the candle is neat </i><br />
<i>We sniffed each one with care... </i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>Great news .. no need to worry.. </i><br />
<i>no added weight anywhere! </i><span style="color: black;">(it was at this point I noticed my boys .. and their dad.. was distancing themselves from me!!)</span><i><br />
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</div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>Sweet aroma we should be to the masses </i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>having a scent of Christ on us.</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>Now there's a wick with a hint of real sweetness.. </i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>will you join us on the glory bus?</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black;">(Official end of the poem.. now the closing. My boys were under the table by this point... and what the heck is a glory bus anyway????) </span><i><br />
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</div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>Our prayer from our family </i><span style="color: black;">(this was so not true... they knew nothing of MY prayer) </span><i>is that as each day passes and each year unfolds</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>that God bless you and brings you joy.</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>Thank you so much for coming and sharing this evening with us...</i></div><div style="color: red; text-align: justify;"><i>Randall, Jo Ellen, Justin, Jordy and Bandit</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i style="color: red;">(.. we wish James, Robyn, Cady, Grace, Jacob & Ruby could have been here!)</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before you totally discount my writing skills, it should be noted that I had family pics all over the sheet of paper to enhance what was lacking in the poetic rhythm.<br />
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I laughed out loud upon ready this sing-songy effort of poetry in dead motion. I honestly think I've written better... maybe?? <br />
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But nevertheless, my house is clean.. and I got to enjoy a memory of sharing a scent of ice cream and a taste of Truth. It was a good laugh amongst the dust...<br />
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<div id="p02034034.01-1"><i><span class="verse-num" id="v02034029-1">"</span>When Moses came down from Mount Sinai, with the two tablets of the testimony in his hand as he came down from the mountain, Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.<span class="footnote"> </span><span class="verse-num" id="v02034030-1"> </span>Aaron and all the people of Israel saw Moses, and behold, the skin of his face shone, and they were afraid to come near him. <span class="verse-num" id="v02034031-1"></span>But Moses called to them, and Aaron and all the leaders of the congregation returned to him, and Moses talked with them. <span class="verse-num" id="v02034032-1"></span>Afterward all the people of Israel came near, and he commanded them all that the <span class="small-caps">Lord</span> had spoken with him in Mount Sinai. <span class="verse-num" id="v02034033-1"> </span>And when Moses had finished speaking with them, he put a veil over his face.<span class="verse-num" id="v02034034-1"> </span>Whenever Moses went in before the <span class="small-caps">Lord</span> to speak with him, he would remove the veil, until he came out. And when he came out and told the people of Israel what he was commanded, <span class="verse-num" id="v02034035-1"></span>the people of Israel would see the face of Moses, that the skin of Moses' face was shining. And Moses would put the veil over his face again, until he went in to speak with him." Ex. 34</i>:29-35</div><br />
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</div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-29126454961457511262010-12-31T23:07:00.022-05:002011-01-23T02:27:16.280-05:002011... Behold, I Make All Things New<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNMhTWjCuYZ6feFrsZbrZeV2sS94zpMr6rfGATR13Has2SUQiJubtTuTyiyjqWG1qCjTGlj_Jap_Hjr5YU1kKvvnK3Rij9drrPbf3UOzfT_ItZvcV5m7xwQYEupra6vcBmlFhut3glodf/s1600/IMG_8572.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNMhTWjCuYZ6feFrsZbrZeV2sS94zpMr6rfGATR13Has2SUQiJubtTuTyiyjqWG1qCjTGlj_Jap_Hjr5YU1kKvvnK3Rij9drrPbf3UOzfT_ItZvcV5m7xwQYEupra6vcBmlFhut3glodf/s320/IMG_8572.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> I am not one to go shoe shopping. As a matter of fact, it took me a year to fork out the money to buy boots that I had been longing for.. and trust me, I don't often "long" for shoes, boots, etc.... But a great sale.... called my name, and I fell victim. The shoes in my closet reveal the fact that the outer covering of my feet, truly don't make a huge impact on my comings and goings. Of course, the older I get the more I hear.. it's not the look but the feel, it's not the feel but the support. How much support is there in flip flops??</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It's New Years eve... I hear that's a special day. For the past several years, for me it has come to mean the beginning of paperwork. Taxes... paperwork... checkbooks... taxes... and more taxes. It's a mindset. Everyone does taxes... don't they? no.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But the beginning of a new year is a chance to make things different. People still have big celebrations. They make resolutions and promises with good intention. Memory over-load of the year before. And a ball drops in New York city. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">While looking for a "suitable" marque for the church where I work (how did I get that task???), I came across a small paragraph about the new year. It caught my attention. It didn't fit our marque but it made me think. And thinking.. I appreciate it, especially since it seems to be more of a challenge for me these days. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The bottom line was that the new year was an "unspoiled page".. an opportunity to do better than the year before. An opportunity to practice what has been learned. An opportunity to renew allegiance to God.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Over the past few weeks, I have fallen back in love with a scripture from Zephaniah. It reminds me that I am His... He is with me. He delights in me.. even quietens me when I am afraid. And the most tender portion of this scripture to me.. is that he sings over me!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I find comfort in that... knowing that my heavenly Father blesses me with a certain rhythm. A rhythm .. I didn't earn or deserve. A rhythm that was birthed purely by grace.. and grace alone. His rhythm.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm tired. I'm just really tired. I've got new boots... and I'm tired. It would be easy to stay in the safety of my home and just enjoy my boots by myself and honestly that would satisfy my soul. I'm adjusting. I'm accepting. It is what it is.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But I took a day (a day in this instance means a few hours...) away from being "focused" and "driven" and let myself relax. And it was "weird". I liked it. It hit me that something really is wrong. I found myself wanting to be BFF's with the sales clerks that looked me dead in the face. I made sure I saw their name tag and called them by name. They smiled .. and liked hearing their name. And I really liked that! Maybe I am still relational. God did create us that way.. right?? I'm more than a blank slate... safety is sometimes in a blank slate. There are some jobs that it just pays to be a blank slate. It is safer. That's bizarre. Shouldn't be that way. It's really weird when you work at a church and people think you have just one long devotional day with God. I mean "He is your boss.. right?? How awesome can THAT be??"</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tomorrow's a new day.. oh yeah, it's new year's day. I'm going to a wedding where a young couple will begin a new life as husband and wife. A mother will give birth to a 19 year old daughter-in-law. She will instantly become a grandmother to a precious little boy. "In-laws" will become prayer partners for this young family. "Behold, I make all things new." I pray that God will be this couples focus as 2011 begins. What a way to start a new year... (and no, it's not the RED NECK wedding down the road.. arrghh!!)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
All things have an opportunity of being new.. even the tax forms. January will be a blur as has December. I look forward to February. <br />
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As the digital clock lights up the new year, I'll be asleep and I really like that, remember I'm tired!! Bring on a lullaby Lord... and in return, let me wake up with a song for You. Because it really is my desire.. underneath this blank slate.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>"The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing." Zep 3:17</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>I woke up this morning feeling very guilty about this blog... so many people have reason to keep the blank slate... stay inside and they don't even have a pair of new boots. And worse, some people don't understand the rhythm of God's grace. The words of Zephaniah don't grab their heart like they did mine. So much I do not understand about the things of God, but I am learning that His purpose will stand... providence will prevail. I'll leave this blog up ... I heard His rhythm while I wrote it and I liked that.. I really liked that. </i></div><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" style="-moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-19414153520923901652010-06-12T13:13:00.013-04:002011-02-10T19:38:58.596-05:00The Purple Fairies have left...<div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgSll_-JxWtfb8XKqkNY6MV8HlRqczBe3OIHfE1g-mR08l8elHAPIaehc1AyS6q3BrxH43cuON1xBs_G333-Zi1MR9Dh17mSqnoqRfbG7tPX7JHKpRcE0ICBvdxWZoz4xKw1Kowj3cRPFU/s1600/dead+flower.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481937650954433762" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgSll_-JxWtfb8XKqkNY6MV8HlRqczBe3OIHfE1g-mR08l8elHAPIaehc1AyS6q3BrxH43cuON1xBs_G333-Zi1MR9Dh17mSqnoqRfbG7tPX7JHKpRcE0ICBvdxWZoz4xKw1Kowj3cRPFU/s320/dead+flower.jpg" style="float: right; height: 214px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></a></div><br />
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I am embracing today.. it's Saturday. Not because I have nothing to do, the good Lord knows there are many things that need my attention! Not because I'm going to the beach, the pool or even the mall! This past week was a whirlwind of Vacation Bible School! It's the great amazing race, to share Jesus with all the kiddos of our small community. Actually for our children, it was Saddle Ridge Ranch... Roundin' Up Questions.... Searching for Answers.<br />
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It's a time of tilling the soil, planting, watering and then hopefully an opportunity to continue an investment inspired and created by none other than the Creator himself, God. But today is Saturday, and it is work day at home. My attention is needed here. <br />
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As I came home from work on Friday, I remembered that .. wow.. I had totally neglected all the flowers that I had just planted and prayed over from the week end prior. Not that my hubby, wasn't busy himself.. with those darn chickens and criminals... but his attention hadn't crossed over to my sanctuary of beautiful bliss scattered across our plot called "home". As I began my pilgrimage, my heart sank. For nearly, all that had been planted had suffered from the extreme South Georgia heat, and to my dismay, many appeared to be long past resuscitation.<br />
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My greatest pride and joy was a hanging basket I had placed in a bird bath in the front of my yard. I loved it so.. for it reminded me of purple fairies. Why? I could just imagine purple fairies leaving remnants of themselves throughout. (Disclaimer: I don't believe in fairies, angels yes.. fairies no.. but it was just a nice but totally absurd thought.) The plant was fresh, airy and pleasing to my senses. However, after my afternoon pilgrimage.. my purple plant looked more like a forgotten cemetery arrangement.. you know the kind I'm talking about.<br />
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The week of early to rise... late to bed... had played havoc on my friend of only a week. For death was amongst us.. due to neglect. VBS had killed my plant.<br />
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I couldn't help but see myself in this pitiful plant. I knew exactly how it felt.. as probably many other VBS workers. Now please don't get me wrong, but I saw many faces on Thursday evening, (the last night of VBS) , that looked worse than this plant.. and mine was one of them. As I began my journaling this morning, it occurred to me that I had not written, read God's word or cracked a book on spiritual growth since Wednesday. By Thursday evening, I was full-blown in my flesh. I have been a follower of Christ long enough to know the connection of working in the "over-flow" of God's love. My over-flow had flown out.. much like the fairies in my hanging basket. I knew it was happening and over and over again in my head I kept saying "as a deer panteth for water, so my soul panteth for You". However, I couldn't seem to get to the "Water". How easy it is to get caught up in the vortex of the busyness of the church and not take care of the starvation of the soul.<br />
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How can I share .. that of which I do not know?<br />
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I had told myself I wasn't going to blog today... I had too many things on my plate. I actually had a delightful blackberry messenger conversation with someone last night and it reminded me all that I had to do today.. i.e. pay bills, wash clothes, pay bills, buy groceries, pay bills, clean house, pay bills and last but not least SIT IN MY FATHERS LAP. I knew I was in trouble (and it wasn't just the credit card late fees.. it was so much worse.) For the last several days, I hadn't done anything to KNOW GOD, which for a believer and follower of Christ is what makes life worthwhile and our greatest objective in life.<br />
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Oh how I pray that there were some little cowboys and cowgirls that were drawn close to the love of Christ from VBS...that they could taste and see that the Lord is good, not just a slice of pizza or corn dog nugget. The decorations were awesome.. the games were fun... but the Word.. yes the Word, it will not return void. I know they will need watering along the way... and just like my tumbleweed that now sits in the hanging basket, we all need Living Water....<br />
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"O L<span style="font-variant: small-caps;">ord</span>, I have longed for your rescue,<br />
and your instructions are my delight.<br />
Let me live so I can praise you,<br />
and may your regulations help me."<br />
Ps. 119: 174-176</div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" style="-moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-84833784366444228542010-06-07T00:15:00.004-04:002011-02-10T19:44:12.282-05:00Ear Flies...<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibkc3H4Vk_imTiXfmOmOcXtuGKcbti2DFeXZpkOqf_N8uSOEf_MCV6GD4LlrapmeAFYzehTXg0cxN8udzf6z4HZStFwLSQGSthlUbaoqqLE29sCpKPpKVJWfx_DvgTYdZnFbGu2pFSQAV3/s1600-h/butterflies.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311930137481030162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibkc3H4Vk_imTiXfmOmOcXtuGKcbti2DFeXZpkOqf_N8uSOEf_MCV6GD4LlrapmeAFYzehTXg0cxN8udzf6z4HZStFwLSQGSthlUbaoqqLE29sCpKPpKVJWfx_DvgTYdZnFbGu2pFSQAV3/s320/butterflies.jpg" style="float: right; height: 213px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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How many times have you wanted to ask someone.... "Have you listened to a word I have said??"<br />
It is often the case scenario for parents with their children, children with their parents, employers with their employees and teachers with their students. I even find myself so preoccupied with current technology that a simple conversation with my husband is a challenge. How have did I become a partner in crime with media technology frenzy?? It's become normal for me to have at least 3-4 conversations going on at the same time, while trying to listen to my husband. I can text, twitter, facebook, read and totally give my "full attention" to my husband whom I haven't seen all day. NOT. I wish I could say that I've got this down pat and that my multi-tasking has successfully met the challenge of talking, listening, comprehending and offering quality feedback. But I haven't made it. And I doubt many of us have.<br />
So much interference. How did simple conversations get so complicated??<br />
<span style="font-size: 100%;">I was reminded while reading J.I. Packer's <span style="font-weight: bold;">Knowing God</span>, that </span><span class="f" style="color: #222222; font-size: 100%;"><span class="f" style="color: #333333;"> "God has spoken to man, and the Bible is His Word, given to us to make us wise unto salvation." </span></span>I wonder what God's thoughts are on our multi-tasking when it comes to listening. I understand that a whisper is enough, but in today's world, a whisper could easily be drowned out. Is our media frenzy, cramping out the still-small voice of our Creator? Wouldn't it just be easier if He had a facebook page or did the twitter gig??<br />
Maybe it's time we evaluate the conversations that find their way into our ears. Put down the computer, the blackberry. Manage the ear flies.<br />
Now what was that you were saying honey??</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">James 1:22 (The Message)</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">"22-24Don't fool yourself into thinking that you are a listener when you are anything but, letting the Word go in one ear and out the other. Act on what you hear! Those who hear and don't act are like those who glance in the mirror, walk away, and two minutes later have no idea who they are, what they look like."</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" style="-moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a><br />
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<div></div></div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-799711902585272912010-06-06T14:31:00.023-04:002011-02-03T11:25:48.659-05:00Man's Best Friend....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX07sL_qvx-pwxn8AX2HECs1jDj9T6EEa5BzTe8lvnUKLTmUhV_m_Lv5KAmnLc7TXc8HyXnSPBdqQp0PRfLoT5vr9stV4hazVg5ZJSefig5XFwEujxPAfx12YhjzVc8mAff4riYaFXArpv/s1600/IMG_6937.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479751285099053586" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX07sL_qvx-pwxn8AX2HECs1jDj9T6EEa5BzTe8lvnUKLTmUhV_m_Lv5KAmnLc7TXc8HyXnSPBdqQp0PRfLoT5vr9stV4hazVg5ZJSefig5XFwEujxPAfx12YhjzVc8mAff4riYaFXArpv/s320/IMG_6937.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 214px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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Wow.. It's been over a year since I have waltzed on to this bloggin' dance floor. I almost feel like a stranger in my own blogger house... weird. I haven't been "home" in a while for several different reasons. First and foremost, my "inspiration well" has been dry as dust.<br />
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I'd like to totally blame my oldest son, Justin for this lack of inspiration. I mean.. come on son!!! It was your photography that fired up my creative juices and you have just left your mom out to dry.? Okay, the blame game isn't always the "Christian" way to play, but it's always been one of my favorites.<br />
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So Justin has put down his camera to tend to his own life. I will let him have that I guess. I pray that one day soon, he will pick his camera back up. He has a god-given talent, but it's not his season of life for photography.<br />
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True writers have to have motivation. I don't consider myself a "true writer" but I do know enough to know that if the motivation isn't there for me, then neither are the words.<br />
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Over the past several weeks, I have felt a tugging in my heart to return to this bloggers life. And there has been .. okay.. a tinge of motivation. I felt it when I saw this picture that my youngest son, Jordy took. I could feel my fingers tappin' on my best friend, Mac... tappin' a few words of reflection.<br />
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That particular picture was taken on the evening before Justin, Jordy and I headed out to Louisville, KY. It would be moving day for Justin within a few hours, and our family had decided to "bond" one last time before the pilgrimage. Our destination ... The Red Lobster in Savannah. We would also celebrate May birthdays.!! "May babies are the best" has always and will always be my motto especially since Justin, Jordy, James, Amanda, Terry Parker, Shelly, Maclain, John (plus a zillion other people) and I have May birthdays!!<br />
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So before the descent to Savannah, we had a brief photo session. Ironically, it wasn't the pictures of the family that stirred my heart the most. But this one.. this one particular capture of a man and his dog.<br />
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I do not know of two better friends than Randall and Bandit. The saying... "A man's best friend is his dog" is to say the least .. true in the Tippins household. Our Bandit is a pure breed Boston Terrier who has been a part of our family for 13 years. In case you don't know, there is a new formula to determine dog years in comparison to human years. The formula is: 10.5 dog years per human year for the first two years, then 4 dog years per human year for each year after. Good gosh, excuse me while I calculate that. (why do we humans always have to complicate things!!!)<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">Okay, so Bandit is practically 65 years old. This means Bandit is eligible for medicare, social security and membership in AARP. (Okay, so Randall and I are both eligible for AARP as well.)</div><br />
But Randall and Bandit have a bond that is so very precious. The boys and I have always known that we take second place to Bandit. Possibly it has something to do with the fact that Bandit continues to shake his tail when Randall comes through the back door. I quit shakin' mine years ago, although I do try to force "hey honey, how was your day" in between farmville and twitter.<br />
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Bandit is so very loyal when it comes to helping out on the farm. Bandit never misses an opportunity to ride with his daddy to the chicken houses. When those magic word's "let's go" are spoken.. Bandit makes his way to his masters feet. The boys on the other hand... there is no other hand. They are gone and in their own corner of the world. Not that they wouldn't help if destruction was on the horizon, but the everyday monotonous routine of the farm, has not peaked their interest in ... years. Bandit, even at 65 still wants to ride side-saddle with the Sheriff.<br />
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As soon as I saw this photo, I was reminded of Proverbs 12:10, "Whoever is righteous has regard for his beast." (ESV) I love that particular translation, because I personally think Bandit would choose it above all the rest. Beast.. yes, Bandit our little beast.<br />
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I have started pondering what will happen when our little beast is gone. What will my man do.. without his beast of a best friend? Will I have to learn how to wag my tail?? Will the boys have to come home to comfort their dad.. and jump on board the mule at his beckon call. I don't know what that day will hold. How will I encourage Randall? For believers, "in death there is not sting".. but what about our beasts?? I wrote of Palin when I first started blogging. She was a beautiful lab that was taken from us way to soon. The sting still hurts when I think of her.<br />
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I have to resign myself to the fact that God created Noah. Noah built the Ark. God called all the animals of creation to come on board the ark. Obviously, He made a place for them.<br />
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But in the meantime, I won't dwell on that. I will just enjoy the friendship that these two have with each other. I love this captured moment...<br />
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and it's good to be back.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" style="-moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; -moz-background-origin: padding; background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0pt; border-left: 0pt; border-right: 0pt; border-top: 0pt;" /></a><br />
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</div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-663603211653431482009-03-05T20:00:00.011-05:002009-03-08T15:14:27.306-04:00Be still and know.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy4CeV5EtetiyzdWQ-Ap3-TOd7t4BAHOc54zEQsWWDOR3-15jjWc1UYc8hV3xtVIollNxVZw2Du0HgEd3ZyoywAx5P3DQ__3FF-mHRgclcejPhbYCiInXETVonWaRJAxtE4uVXjLuj_tRD/s1600-h/jordy+1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309877980768030082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy4CeV5EtetiyzdWQ-Ap3-TOd7t4BAHOc54zEQsWWDOR3-15jjWc1UYc8hV3xtVIollNxVZw2Du0HgEd3ZyoywAx5P3DQ__3FF-mHRgclcejPhbYCiInXETVonWaRJAxtE4uVXjLuj_tRD/s320/jordy+1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify">When I was growing up, there was a popular saying ... <em>"Be sure to take the time to smell the daisies."</em> There is just something healthy and good about taking a break from life's chaos. Slow down. Take a walk on the beach. Watch a sunset. Take a quiet stroll. Sit down in the snow... okay, I never heard that one, but you get the idea.</div><p align="justify"><br /></p><p align="justify">Sometimes, life is just crazy and different personalities deal with life's insanity differently. Sanguines go into over-drive, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">cholerics</span> get a tad bit demanding, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">phlegmatics</span> want to crawl in bed, and melancholy's refer to their day-timers!!! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Temperments</span> make a difference in how we respond. Understanding <a href="http://www.oneishy.com/personality/">personality types</a> will not only help a person understand themselves, but also give insight to family, friends and foes.</p><p align="justify"><br /></p><p align="justify">Some people believe that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">temperment</span> analysis is hogwash or even satanic with a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">slant</span> toward astrology. Dr. Charles Stanley, Pastor of First Baptist Atlanta, GA, frequently refers to personality types. Christian author, Florence <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Littauer</span> wrote, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Personality-Plus-Understand-Understanding-Yourself/dp/080075445X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1236307185&sr=1-1">"Personality Plus"</a>, a book that describes the different <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">temperments</span>. The book made a believer in me. God's Word, the ultimate authority, reveals that God took careful measure when He created us. <em>"Oh yes, you shaped me first inside then out; you formed me in my mother's womb." <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Ps</span>. 139:13. </em>Along with God's Holy Spirit, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">temperment</span> peculiarities makes the believer's life unique and "wonderfully made!"</p><p align="justify">May I share with you some personality types within my family???</p><p align="justify">My mom is a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">definite</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">choloric</span>! She is strong and take charge, not easily discouraged and usually right! She is very goal-oriented.</p><p align="justify">My son, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Jordy</span>, oh he is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">definitely</span> a sanguine for sure! He is fun loving, light-hearted, a people person, and a wonderful entertainer! </p><p align="justify">My son, Justin, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">hummm</span>.. I'm thinking melancholy. He is a thinker and a ponderer who is highly creative and content to stay in the background. The melancholy type <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">personality</span> is philosophical and finds creative solutions.</p><p align="justify">My husband is a phlegmatic with a touch of choleric thrown in! Case in point: He is a great mediator which is his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">phelgmatic</span> side however his choleric side kicks in when he is strong-willed and decisive! </p><p align="justify">As for me?? I took the personality test and scored very high on the phlegmatic type which means I tend to be easy-going, I keep my emotions hidden, and I am quiet but <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">whitty</span>. :-)</p><p align="justify">Life does get crazy and no matter what type of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">temperment</span> you have, rest and reflection is good. I should know, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">phlegmatics</span> enjoy the quiet side of life. </p><p align="justify"><em>"Be still and know that I am God. I will be honored by every nation! I will be honored throughout the world." <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Ps</span>. 46:10</em></p><p align="justify"><br /></p><p align="justify"></p><br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/100/C42F6D2E6121C7373F353C2B4F62C79A.png" /></a>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-44114536248320369732009-03-03T22:48:00.005-05:002009-03-03T23:05:14.503-05:00Holding Hudson<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRM7Jaf8GIV7cAxPOcvTBeFzW9VhS0GNJJwpGX2s8Xo8_2xdNg6D2NNTH1JwLmOIltjw-lZQOGROFGzcDN2z6k3BEquW0DaijKSrQS4EOKx-dclBuz_DUg3Bm9W9rNuj1Wk9J_oOkWZIwL/s1600-h/drew.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307275062739024786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRM7Jaf8GIV7cAxPOcvTBeFzW9VhS0GNJJwpGX2s8Xo8_2xdNg6D2NNTH1JwLmOIltjw-lZQOGROFGzcDN2z6k3BEquW0DaijKSrQS4EOKx-dclBuz_DUg3Bm9W9rNuj1Wk9J_oOkWZIwL/s400/drew.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Wikipedia</span> defines a miracle as a "sensibly perceptible interruption of the laws of nature, such that can only be explained by divine intervention, and is sometimes associated with a miracle worker." </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><br />On Feb. 15, 2008, I received a very disturbing email from my son's best friend, Drew. Drew and his wife, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Kamarie</span>, were expecting their second child and had received <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">devastating</span> news from the doctor. They were told that the chances of carrying this pregnancy to full-term was very slim (less than 10%) and should the baby survive the full-term pregnancy, death was certain within a few days of birth. An ultrasound had revealed that the baby had severe cystic <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">hygroma</span>, which by medical terms is growths of fluid that form as a result of the lymphatic system not forming properly. Best case scenario was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Down's</span> Syndrome, however, the severity of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">chromosomal</span> defects appeared to make the best case scenario, the least. Although not mentioned in the initial email, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Kam</span> later shared that the issue of abortion was discussed by the doctor as an option.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><br />Upon learning that the baby was a boy, this young couple proclaimed Hudson Taylor Miles to the world. At the close of their email, Drew and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Kam</span> asked their friends and family to pray for a miracle. <em>"We are still hopeful, because we believe that God could work a miracle on Hudson. We just ask that you pray for Hudson and for us that God will give us peace as we are waiting."</em></div><br />Four weeks later, a second email arrived. An <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">amniocenteses</span> revealed that baby Hudson had <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Down's</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Syndrome</span>. He was high risk for certain heart defects. The future was still very unsettling and unsure. Again, this young couple sought the heartfelt prayers from family and friends. A miracle was needed.<br /><br />On August 12, 2008 at 10:03am, Hudson Taylor Miles beat the odds and was born! Although he had some issues with breathing and feeding, Hudson's prognosis was hopeful, yet guarded. A small hole in his heart was discovered and heart surgery would be sooner than anticipated. Drew and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Kamarie</span> had spent the last 5 months preparing, planning and praying. They were now the parents of a special-needs child with Downs Syndrome. But the bottom line, they had a new baby to bring home... a baby who wasn't suppose to live.... a baby they could have <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">chosen</span> to abort.... a baby with ten fingers, ten toes and one hole in his heart. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><br />Baby Hudson came home within a few days after he was born. He has had one heart surgery and today Hudson is smiling, laughing, eating, and pooping in his diapers.. all the things little babies do. His brother, Lane, thinks he is wonderful, almost as wonderful as Thomas the Train. Hudson's parents, continue to see God at work in their lives. They embrace the miracle God has entrusted them with ...facing the future ... faith first.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><em><br />"Give thanks to him who alone does mighty miracles. His faithful love endures forever."</em></div><div align="justify"><em>Psalm 136:4 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">NLT</span></em> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" /></a></div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-22529866249207088352009-03-02T19:52:00.002-05:002009-03-02T21:06:54.560-05:00Feed Them and They Will Come<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_vjr2vXWMF6LfRFg-fXvh_nl6zdjNXfPP52zjDIgKIsX_cc9Wn6cvYkEBoOYIwzN_ZgWY9gs_9PzujIx5H2s2VFhGKudKBrMiAMlY4DJh8U6_TMVHki0KsN2wEkV-F1t4WY9knfMJa3MS/s1600-h/baptist+covered+dish.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307273920724432722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_vjr2vXWMF6LfRFg-fXvh_nl6zdjNXfPP52zjDIgKIsX_cc9Wn6cvYkEBoOYIwzN_ZgWY9gs_9PzujIx5H2s2VFhGKudKBrMiAMlY4DJh8U6_TMVHki0KsN2wEkV-F1t4WY9knfMJa3MS/s320/baptist+covered+dish.jpg" border="0" /></a> There is absolutely nothing better than a good old-fashion, after-church, "on the grounds", casserole dish, covered-dish, pot-luck, finger-food, we got the meat - you bring the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">fixins</span>, soup-n-salad, ice cream sundae social, spaghetti dinner!! Whew!<br /><br /></div><div align="justify">Let's face it... Southern Baptist love to eat and it seems that we take every opportunity to do just that! If Southern Baptist were ever to sponsor the Olympics, free-style eating would certainly be in the line-up!</div><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">We eat on demand, deliverance and dedication. It doesn't matter if it is sympathy or showers, we are going to nibble, if not <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">naw</span>. Committees can't even congregate without some type of chewing! </div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">As if that isn't enough, NOW we are feeding breakfast at Sunday School. Since when did Sunday School become associated with eating?? Am I over-reacting or are we over-eating at church?? I have attended a few Sunday School "Conferences of the South" and I really do understand the concept of feed 'um and reap, but it seems to me like this may be a subtle attempt to replace the responsibilities of Pop Tart Police in our own humble kitchen.</div><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">I have been out of college for a few years (okay... 30 years), but I remember studying about a man named <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ivan_Pavlov">Pavlov</a>. I truly believe his work on conditioned reflexes with the salivating dog is note-worthy at this particular <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">juncture</span>. From my own personal experience, and from what I have observed, Southern Baptists salivate at the site of a steeple. I can remember the little "finger game" I use to play with my boys...."Here's the church, here's the steeple, open the door and here's the people." Remember it?? We should now take this a step further... "Here's the church, here's the steeple, open the door wide, there better be food inside!" </div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">This pattern has certainly taken it's toil on statistical seating numbers within the church. Ten years ago, the average church pew could seat 10 adults. Today's statistics reveal a sharp (or should I say "round") change in that figure. The average church pew seats 7.5 adults with no room for wiggle. </div><div align="justify"><br /><br /></div><div align="justify">There have been attempts made in good faith to balance the scales. The Christian community has developed hundreds of weight loss programs: Weigh Down Workshop, Weight Loss for Christian Women, First Place, The Eden Diet, Vonder Wheley's Weight Warriors, The Lost Vineyard, Fit To Be Me, .... just to name a few. If you google "Christian Weight Loss Programs", you will be amazed at the never-ending list of weight-loss communities for the brethern. </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><br />However, the fact remains, "Here's the church, here's the steeple, open wide, there's food inside." <div align="justify"></div><br /><em><strong>"You say, “I am allowed to do anything”—but not everything is good for you. You say, “I am allowed to do anything”—but not everything is beneficial." 1 Corinthians 10:23 (NLT)</strong></em><br /><br /></div><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png"/></a>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-9371114812116997932009-02-28T22:00:00.044-05:002011-03-19T22:11:17.189-04:00CLAXTON-EVANS COUNTY, GA... RATTLESNAKE ROUNDUP<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRvx-PmUyeca5lG3Z1n8Ep6cJrhN9OYsgCMdJErw7MIlWRAF2cHuHctVkg9ZR02BvgQjWD9VB9UrdkIXfQPqkOBIMiDkwpTaStEUwa73TJB5HW2hRq3VnjjuNl5TLzAn32QruyP4Z4Cjnl/s1600-h/419451929_3c420aba32.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310872941255506274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRvx-PmUyeca5lG3Z1n8Ep6cJrhN9OYsgCMdJErw7MIlWRAF2cHuHctVkg9ZR02BvgQjWD9VB9UrdkIXfQPqkOBIMiDkwpTaStEUwa73TJB5HW2hRq3VnjjuNl5TLzAn32QruyP4Z4Cjnl/s320/419451929_3c420aba32.jpg" style="float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 262px;" /></a><br />
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</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">On the 2nd weekend of March, the small rural communities of Claxton and Hagan, Georgia are submerged with visitors from all over the South. People from miles around come to see the sights of the annual <a href="http://www.claxtonevanschamber.com/display.php?cid=9&pid=28">Rattlesnake Roundup</a>. The event has played host to as many as 15,000 on-lookers... 4,000 more people than the county has as residents!<br />
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The event began in February 1968, in an effort to reduce the population of the rattlesnakes in the area. The first year a total of 48 snakes were captured. By official count, the largest number of entries collected was in 1992 when 588 rattlesnakes were captured. </span></div></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div align="justify" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">The event has become an economic boost for the community. It will certainly be interesting to see what 2009 holds. Not only is there a side-show of snakes, but there is a local beauty contest, <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.rattlesnakefunrun.com">Rattlesnake Run</a> and parade. The 200 plus arts and crafts exhibitors fill the grassy lot adjacent to the Evans County Wildlife Club building in Hagan, GA. </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div align="justify" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">The Shriners come out in full force for the annual parade! It's an event that brings the city of Claxton to a complete halt! Weather permitting, thousands will line the streets of Hwy 301 and Hwy 280 to watch dignitaries, beauty queens, floats, bands, and full-grown men either dancing in their Aladdin costumes or driving go-carts that are 10 times too small for their derriere. </span></div><div align="justify" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">I must confess, when Justin and Jordy were small we were faithful to adorn our Roundup Tee-Shirts and position ourself for the best seat on the parade route. It was a huge event for our family. Cousins Ashley and Terry would come to Claxton and off we would go! </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div align="justify" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Years have passed and so has my passion for the parade and the roundup. I don't think I have actually seen the parade "in person" for several years. A television station in Savannah, GA covers the parade, so it's much easier to watch it from the comfort of my couch, in my pj's with my coffee cup in hand. And as far as the vendors, how many leather belts, house plants, and wood carvings can one person own?? The traffic is comparable to downtown Atlanta on a Friday afternoon!! Have I mentioned the only fast food restaurant we have in Claxton is McDonald's?? (Do you get the picture??) </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div align="justify" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">The Evans County Wildlife Club members, however, have done a great job of making the weekend memorable for those who attend. Up until a few years ago, the Roundup was held in a tobacco warehouse... yes, it was crazy and jam packed! Moving to an outside venue has certainly helped in dealing with the crowd and with the traffic. There are also many vendors who provide some delicious food which does help the long line at McDonalds.</span></div><div align="justify" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">There are some truly awesome things that the Evans County Wildlife Club and the Rattlesnake Roundup in itself does for our community. A large part of the revenue received from this event goes to worthwhile organizations and charities. It is like a MAJOR stimulus check for many groups who do "good things" around our area.</span></div><div align="justify" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Maybe I should re-adjust my thinking on this aggravating weekend... where 15,000 people come to my small quiet little town of Claxton, GA. But I'm still watching the parade in my pj's. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">**For more current pics of 2011 Roundup click <a href="http://christianscriminalsandchickens.blogspot.com/2011/03/evans-county-ga-wildlife-club.html">here! </a></span></div><div align="justify">**********************************************</div><div align="justify">Be generous: Invest in acts of charity. Charity yields high returns. Ecc. 11:1</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></div></div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-73315928827216292502009-02-27T23:45:00.005-05:002011-02-10T19:45:50.751-05:00I See The Moon and The Moon Sees Me<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij0fyQNLu2joVOf8zi98v2KLEeARfj9pHf35sMMdFamMbgBROQE7VCtfrYtaKkxeCQEwKFIdrlC-fyNMUevgrlGfDQBQUgMiF2cLcneBf5jIIySbqup1peRFA82tTUpe36cK60JPP7bINz/s1600-h/moon.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307276841076139730" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij0fyQNLu2joVOf8zi98v2KLEeARfj9pHf35sMMdFamMbgBROQE7VCtfrYtaKkxeCQEwKFIdrlC-fyNMUevgrlGfDQBQUgMiF2cLcneBf5jIIySbqup1peRFA82tTUpe36cK60JPP7bINz/s400/moon.jpg" style="display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a> When my boys were small, we would often take late evening walks to the pond next to our house. There were many nights when the moon would be bright and brilliant. But then, there were those nights when the moon appeared blue. However, it really didn't matter what color the moon displayed because it was always magical and illuminated our evening walks.</div><div align="justify">There is a sweet rhyme that we use to cite when the moon made an appearance. <i>"I see the moon and the moon sees me. God bless the moon and God bless me." </i>This little sing-song rhyme was soothing, happy and always brought a giggle. I believe the boys liked it as well. :-)</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">The moon was certainly no stranger to us. We enjoyed our nightly adventures by moonlight , but we also spent many a bed-time ritual reading <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Happy-Birthday-Moon-Moonbear-Frank/dp/0689835442">"Happy Birthday, Moon"</a> a delightful children's book written by <a href="http://www.frankasch.com/aboutme.html">Frank Asch</a>. This book was a simple little story about a bear who befriended the moon by carrying on a conversation with the moon. The closer the little boy got to the moon, from hill-top to hill-top, the clearer the conversation became. The conversation was in reality the echo of the little boy's own voice. However, this repetitive monologue revealed that they both had the same birthday and they both wanted a hat for their birthday! You do get the picture.. don't you?? The little bear buys the moon a hat and because of a strategically placed tree limb, the hat is a perfect fit for the moon. Later on that evening, a breeze blows the hat right to the footstep of the bear's house. When the bear finds the hat, he assumes this hat is a gift from the moon. There are a few more twist and turns to this story but it is truly a simple story of friendship, caring, sharing and forgiveness, along with a lot of determination! My boys loved this little story. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Isn't it awesome how God provides us with life lessons through His creations. Look for them, they are everywhere!</div><div align="justify"><br />
<i>God spoke again to Ahaz. This time he said, "Ask for a sign from your God. Ask anything. Be extravagant. Ask for the moon!" Isaiah 7:10</i></div><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-65772998935177413662009-02-27T18:00:00.007-05:002009-02-27T18:55:34.339-05:00Don't Worry .. Be Happy!<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSEki99mucAem6J8OwsIr5T3WAf8WbEmFL8QVJRBRQtmtkgqqO8p-KdDVrYxxmx4Dc5oVCb4NlZXOJUDfFccwKD9HOdrUFcsJ_LqUMjiUQGgfkok6L_hVaa0AAcZsuhmNecZjFOk5gKjw3/s1600-h/419279486_257ca02464.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307617476081507442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSEki99mucAem6J8OwsIr5T3WAf8WbEmFL8QVJRBRQtmtkgqqO8p-KdDVrYxxmx4Dc5oVCb4NlZXOJUDfFccwKD9HOdrUFcsJ_LqUMjiUQGgfkok6L_hVaa0AAcZsuhmNecZjFOk5gKjw3/s320/419279486_257ca02464.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />There is just something so magical about the transparent, genuine smile of a child. There is no inhibition or restraint, just pure bliss.<br /><br />In 1988, Bobby <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">McFerrin</span>, Jr. recorded a song that made it to #1 on the billboard, <a href="http://http//www.dailymotion.com/video/x2b3xk_bobby-mcferrin-dont-worry-be-happy_music"><em>Don't Worry, Be Happy.</em></a><em> </em>The song was awarded <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Grammy's</span> Song of the Year and the album, <em><em>Simple Pleasures</em></em>, won Album of the Year. <div align="justify"><br />I actually googled "smiley face." The top entries listed were related to the little yellow smiley face which displays nothing more than two small dots for eyes and a slight curve for a mouth. Often times the words "HAVE A HAPPY DAY!" will accompany this little face. There is a large debate over the originator of that face, but the fact remains, that particular "smiley face" is bigger than ELVIS and very much alive! <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smiley">Smiley Face </a>is frequently on buttons, posters, t-shirts, beach towels, mugs, greeting cards and earrings.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />Smiles are contagious. Some are lopsided. Some are crooked. Some are down-right <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">frightening</span>. Smiles can be weary or weathered. But then there are those smiles that are full of energy and electricity and just make you smile when you see it... like the one in that photo!</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />The one thing that we all have in common about our particular "smile" is that we control those "smile" muscles. As we grow older we may need a bladder tact due to muscle issues or we may have under-arm "bat wings" as a result of lazy muscle tissue, but those little smile muscles are faithful. With <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">minimum</span> daily use, a smile can ease the heaviest burden of a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">distraught</span> friend. It can make the wait at a fast food drive-through a little more bearable. It can say "your special" without uttering a word.<br /><br /><br />Psalm 42:11 (The Message)<br />"Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul? Why are you crying the blues? Fix my eyes on God— soon I'll be praising again. He puts a smile on my face. He's my God."<br /></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" /></a><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"></div></div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-91550117209440225542009-02-26T22:30:00.003-05:002011-02-10T19:48:02.521-05:00Best Friends<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR4WauvAypiniY-pPZXyn2M-0Cog0yQlpitOc9mlGP8pJ2Ka1ua8w1IZYVmBctys4Rl3B-kHbnG6cuCQH5Fbgcl4h4mIqIxKfM1yFO8oJonpzm6EA0a7EejXvPwLFD8RVDpuF23pD2H70D/s1600-h/2426344333_a4c9d7dafd.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307225269262164626" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR4WauvAypiniY-pPZXyn2M-0Cog0yQlpitOc9mlGP8pJ2Ka1ua8w1IZYVmBctys4Rl3B-kHbnG6cuCQH5Fbgcl4h4mIqIxKfM1yFO8oJonpzm6EA0a7EejXvPwLFD8RVDpuF23pD2H70D/s320/2426344333_a4c9d7dafd.jpg" style="float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 170px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friendship">Wikipedia</a> defines "friendship" as a term used to denote co-operative and supportive behavior between two or more people. Other words of interest that are noted in the definition include trust, empathy, loyalty and affection.<br />
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This particular picture is of my son Jordy and his best friend since Pre-K, Kelvin Goodson. This candid shot was taken right before their Senior Prom. They had been posed and polished with their dates on each arm, but as this picture reveals, it was time to relax and just laugh. This is the kind of picture that just simply makes a person smile.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">There has always been something special about the friendship between Jordy and Kelvin. I think one of the most interesting aspects of their relationship has been the lack of competitiveness. Boys, in general , just seem to have a natural competitive streak. However, throughout the years, these two best friends have always had "each other's back". Growing up and watching them play, I was always amazed at how they wanted the best for each other. They have both had other friends... lots of other friends. But their friendship has a closeness and a bond that is truly special.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">I often wonder where life will take Kelvin. He is a very smart young man with great athletic ability. Kelvin has spent many, many hours on the baseball field. His versatility makes him a "coach's favorite" and his gentle, but domineering conduct crowds love! He has social graces that are sadly becoming obsolete!! Of course, I always wonder where life will take my Jordy!! My son is intelligent and he has a personality that brightens up the room when he enters. And although he hasn't put as much time on the playing field as Kelvin, Jordy is the ultimate team player that brings balance and consistency to a team. He doesn't give up. He looks for the best in people and always considers their feelings. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Ten years from now, I don't know where Jordy or Kelvin will be or what they will be doing. But one thing I feel is certain, they will have each other's back and they will most definitely still be best friends. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><i><b><br />
"Friends come and friends go, but a true friend sticks by you like family." Proverbs 18:24</b></i></div><div align="justify"><i><b></b></i></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0pt none ! important;" /></a>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-41035549899666202522009-02-21T21:30:00.002-05:002011-02-10T20:15:23.433-05:00Dripping Faucet<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZBHhv3hUMGoyhEVvWA93fduelqaMBpUcHTFPAtG63v1ZAuIYWkFX-vt6WjtvbDuqK6T3doy1Z2ycLK_zq0uZcYb5qX5godv1vXFRnq-7aw0k1R1fXuM6kXYhOeYB9U_4pp5mh9umSFUST/s1600-h/justin+3.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304724527730174562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZBHhv3hUMGoyhEVvWA93fduelqaMBpUcHTFPAtG63v1ZAuIYWkFX-vt6WjtvbDuqK6T3doy1Z2ycLK_zq0uZcYb5qX5godv1vXFRnq-7aw0k1R1fXuM6kXYhOeYB9U_4pp5mh9umSFUST/s400/justin+3.jpg" style="display: block; height: 286px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<div align="justify">The house that my husband was raised in is located right next to our present home. We live on a family farm and Randall's mother lived alone in that home for 30 years. Randall's father died when Randall was just 6 years old. The brick house still stands and occasionally plays host to visiting family members. However, to be honest, it has become a wonderful refuge for Justin's theology books and my out-of-season clothes.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />
In the back of the house are two bedrooms with a restroom adjoining them. Justin took this particular picture of the old facuet in that restroom. I laughed when I first saw this picture because this particular facuet has caused me so much frustation and irratation. It appears that Justin has turned on the water and his lens, with the help of shutter spead, has captured the water dripping. The fact is that the water never stops dripping. It has a continual drip. No amount of pressure applied stops the drip. As if the noise of the drip isn't bad enough, the basin is ruined from the stain from the dripping. (Remember ... farm... well water.. rust... yuck). I can be in one of the bedrooms and I can hear it. I can be walking down the hallway toward the bedrooms and I can hear it. Heck, I can hear it just looking at that picture!! That water dripping is one naggin' irratation to me. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />
While writing this, I asked Randall if I "nagged" him. He actually looked at me like I was crazy, which was a good thing. "Of course, you don't nag me!" I felt a sigh of relief within me. I don't want to be a nag. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />
Maybe I won't "nag" Randall about un-tucking the sheets on his side of the bed tonight. Each morning I make up our bed and ever so tightly tuck the sheets at the foot of the bed. However, at night Randall untucks the sheets with "proclamation" when he gets in our bed. I like my sheets tucked.. He likes his un-tucked. He stands at the foot of our bed and proudly "un-tucks" his side of the bed as I am laying there as if to say.. "ugh huh!" Oh my gosh!!! I'm NOT the nagger.. he is!!! Drip.. Drip.. Drip...</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><i><br />
A nagging spouse is like the drip, drip, drip of a leaky faucet; You can't turn it off, and you can't get away from it. Proverbs 27:15<br />
</i></div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-70792253005894107762009-02-20T19:15:00.004-05:002011-02-10T19:55:14.170-05:00The Chicken Challenge<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsiuDwLSYGUqBk2mvGa7Cl3V1A7C56l07VKiY-o0Rye33-Q0b0yZaa4ECamXj4IXEJPD6gKhHVXRW0WcKddb-RxS2LvwQXjbC-1WXcAn-ACqsTK0h579pYYjrR_i5T0C5H_vdIL3sZujvQ/s1600-h/bambino.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304979005557552146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsiuDwLSYGUqBk2mvGa7Cl3V1A7C56l07VKiY-o0Rye33-Q0b0yZaa4ECamXj4IXEJPD6gKhHVXRW0WcKddb-RxS2LvwQXjbC-1WXcAn-ACqsTK0h579pYYjrR_i5T0C5H_vdIL3sZujvQ/s200/bambino.jpg" border="0" /></a> The biddie bus came down Tippins Road today bringing us 54,400 baby biddies to care for and love! Yes, we are bonafide, certified chicken farmers. We have been foster parents to these little critters for 14 years Wow! Approx. 6 times a year we take <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304982208370745810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 143px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 121px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizAvnicfxk-uy5OdCsO4yWwIK81MmONC6DLOvz3j3x_ECLD1rNXScapAVr4ecBHmYXVXU0dEZwU_K2cthXtFHCHBL7rbbDljfXD9Ci3Sa0-2A3FqjdEwCZCtOVUVD-JU-mbYzPzbWimGEl/s200/logo.jpg" border="0" />in these cute little biddies, feed them, water them and encourage them to eat to their hearts content! (Our last batch ate 342,000 pounds of feed.) At the end of their stay which could be anywhere from 36 - 44 days, 8 Eighteen Wheelers from Claxton Poultry come to take the big honkin' chickens to the chicken plant. They are processed and eventually find their way into the menu of Chic-fil-a', Wal Mart Super Stores or the like. </div><div align="justify">I can remember vividly our first "grow out"... the term used to represent their period of stay on our farm. (Never really thought about why it's called "grow out"... but considering it is our task to fatten them up, maybe it's descriptive. Maybe we should refer to Thanksgiving and Christmas Seasons as "grow outs"). Our family was so excited about this new adventure that we even created a "Reality Series" and videoed the process.. beginning to end. The documentary included a fashion show.. the latest trends in chicken wear, footage of the "chickens with disability" area, coverage of the chicken nails (honestly, women would die for sturdy nails like theirs!!)... and last but not least, the final walk. The final walk was probably the most touching aspect of this Chicken Reality Series. With tender care, it was videoed with music in the background... Dolly Parton singing "I Will Always Love You" while me and the boys carried our buckets picking up dead chickens for the final time. (Did I mention that many chickens die layin' on their back with one leg straight up.. as to say.. "Take me Lord, I'm ready!" Palin will be thrilled if the chickens are in heaven too!!!)</div><br />
<div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Mr. Norman Fries was the President of Fries Farms and owner of Claxton Poultry when we initally started our home-based business. I wrote Mr. Fries a poem about our family adventure and shared it with him before he died a few years later. I called my tribute..</div><div align="justify">THE CHICKEN CHALLENGE...<br />
</div><div align="justify"><em>This adventure it's true,</em></div><div align="justify"><em>we began in the dark,</em></div><div align="justify"><em>Plannning, preparation and prayer </em></div><div align="justify"><em>helped get us off to a great start.</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>Decisions, decisions...</em></div><div align="justify"><em>made in light of the truth</em></div><div align="justify"><em>that neither Randall nor I</em></div><div align="justify"><em>knew beans about a chicken coup.</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>Adams Poultry, of course,</em></div><div align="justify"><em>took their sweet time.</em></div><div align="justify"><em>While Tippins Bank made interest</em></div><div align="justify"><em>on each and every dime.</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>Then finally that day, at last, did arrive.</em></div><div align="justify"><em>Claxton Poultry wanted to know,</em></div><div align="justify"><em>"Can you keep our biddies alive?"</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>Justin and Jordy, Randall and Jo</em></div><div align="justify"><em>looked at each other and said,</em></div><div align="justify"><em>"Of course! We've been ready to go."</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>Our schedules, they changed,</em></div><div align="justify"><em>as we knew they would.</em></div><div align="justify"><em>The boys, Connie and friends from around</em></div><div align="justify"><em>did what they could.</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>Late nights, early mornings for 46 days,</em></div><div align="justify"><em>then the call came.</em></div><div align="justify"><em>"Oh yes! We're ready... they're NOT the same!"</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>"Their ugly, they've changed. No longer are they cute.</em></div><div align="justify"><em>We can't bride our boys to help..</em></div><div align="justify"><em>We all need a space suit!"</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>So yes, the crew came</em></div><div align="justify"><em>We'd been warned all about.</em></div><div align="justify"><em>Eight hours later</em></div><div align="justify"><em>our houses looked like a hurricane route.</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>But two weeks later, for all that work,</em></div><div align="justify"><em>we received a nice sum,</em></div><div align="justify"><em>in hopes that our first .. is a sign of many to come.</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>From beginning to end,</em></div><div align="justify"><em>We've come to be blessed.</em></div><div align="justify"><em>Our family has been a team</em></div><div align="justify"><em>and now we've had our rest.</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em>So Mr. Fries, we're back up</em></div><div align="justify"><em>and ready to go.</em></div><div align="justify"><em>TIPPINS POULTRY FARMS can make you proud</em></div><div align="justify"><em>we'll make your sweet biddies grow! </em></div><p><em><span style="font-family:webdings;">***********</span></em></p><p>If you're a hard worker and do a good job, you deserve your pay; we don't call your wages a gift. But if you see that the job is too big for you, that it's something only God can do, and you trust him to do it—you could never do it for yourself no matter how hard and long you worked—well, that trusting-him-to-do-it is what gets you set right with God, by God. Sheer gift. Romans 4:4</p><p><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" /></a><br />
</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_4RAw-sO1RRvZ5G5Oegle5TIQf2V9coQhTTvIVOLtpkwSQLdMrS_5RBk0G8R7YL0IhODA-0e8JdgBlGHPtNrAqCz5o5aBVY88ZKAnddxCMjFx7D1V2bgxp5rFY-7xVke7aD9AWXcCM482/s1600-h/sleep+time.jpg"></a>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-8623226365867858342009-02-20T07:00:00.002-05:002011-02-10T20:14:20.000-05:00Perspectives<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-pbqqKcfoeDYzWsXq0fIJ6cz9-cIxt9CQsU-VQpn_bBs26i6HnaKunwnCZEDfy4fADbQelZAZR13btZEkC2caAlYUT6uRyja5aJ30BDHPJ1UmILfXdDRrrRNRl8qrx8t02lVnxLbl1SXX/s1600-h/jordy.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304357282969660386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-pbqqKcfoeDYzWsXq0fIJ6cz9-cIxt9CQsU-VQpn_bBs26i6HnaKunwnCZEDfy4fADbQelZAZR13btZEkC2caAlYUT6uRyja5aJ30BDHPJ1UmILfXdDRrrRNRl8qrx8t02lVnxLbl1SXX/s320/jordy.jpg" style="float: right; height: 213px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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In the late 60's there was a popular television show called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Land_of_the_Giants">The Land of the Giants</a> It was about a group of space travelers who had the misfortune of landing on a planet where everything... surroundings and inhabitants .. were "super-sized". The giants diligently worked to seek, kill and destroy the wee ones. </div><div align="justify">When I first saw this picture, I thought of this short-lived series. Justin is obviously laying low in the rye field and his brother, Jordy, is looking larger than life. When my dad saw this picture on Justin's Flickr Web Page. he called it <i>From An Ant's View</i>. Okay, so possibly the ant has a telescope, but you get the idea. </div><div align="justify">Whether it be the perspective of the ant or the ill-begotten space traveler from the 60's, it's not a comfortable feeling to be looking in the nostrils of a "giant"; walking among giants is even more stressful. We have all experienced "giants" in our life. Sometimes we run from them, other times we face them head on. I've heard it said that giants are like life-storms ... we are either just coming out of one, in the middle of one or getting ready to enter one! Giants .... storms.... they are all around us. Delivered or devoured... which will it be? </div><div align="justify">It appears that each of us are facing a giant called "Recession". He seems be looming around every corner laughing in our face and talking behind our back. It appears he has stolen our money, our hopes and our dreams.... just watch the news. How long will this giant torment us? How much more devastation and heartbreak can he do? Does he really have the power to lick all the red off our sucker??</div><div align="justify">I don't know where all this will lead and how it will end. I do know that my perspective will make a difference as to whether or not I will worry or worship. I also know that God is sovereign... and is in total control of the universe. None of this has taken Him by surprise. </div><div align="justify"><br />
<i>1 Samuel 15:34-37 David said, "I've been a shepherd, tending sheep for my father. Whenever a lion or bear came and took a lamb from the flock, I'd go after it, knock it down, and rescue the lamb. If it turned on me, I'd grab it by the throat, wring its neck, and kill it. Lion or bear, it made no difference—I killed it. And I'll do the same to this Philistine pig who is taunting the troops of God-Alive. God, who delivered me from the teeth of the lion and the claws of the bear, will deliver me from this Philistine."</i> The Message</div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-17324363181994120522009-02-19T18:00:00.005-05:002009-02-19T20:20:04.466-05:00Irrigation for the Soul<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9g4aJWr8Prij0pD5BCa9NKKRb0U1744EqoPNGWSRR0_sAU54ir5uyXzz27d-m_7eeAplFE_yHiDTBd_eUHpXjsbLHzU0MDU9tq94I_bTf2kPjlwgF7IeYE30PU0nmXYk6gAOjdhDeFer/s1600-h/irragation.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304597361388506338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9g4aJWr8Prij0pD5BCa9NKKRb0U1744EqoPNGWSRR0_sAU54ir5uyXzz27d-m_7eeAplFE_yHiDTBd_eUHpXjsbLHzU0MDU9tq94I_bTf2kPjlwgF7IeYE30PU0nmXYk6gAOjdhDeFer/s400/irragation.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />There is something about "farm pictures" that I have always loved. They stir something inside of me that makes me appreciate the men and women who till the land and plant the seed. Farming is probably one of the most "thank-less" professions (along with law enforcement) in our culture. Pictures of farms, farm equipment and crops remind me of the simple <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">necessities in life.</span><br /><br />This particular picture is taken of an <a href="http://ga.water.usgs.gov/edu/irsprayhigh.html">irrigation pivot system</a> located on the property that our family leases for farming. These systems have become quiet popular because of frequent drought seasons. This bad boy has a price tag of approx. $50,000. This particular bad boy has a bad boy brother a few hundred yards away. The cost of these glorified water hoses gives me even more respect (or should that be sympathy??) to the farmer and the landowner.<br /><br />It is always an interesting sight to watch these systems crawl across a field. These mechanical centipedes are powered by motorized systems that generate enough gusto for travel. I have always thought it would be perfect subject matter for a Alfred Hitchcock thriller or Stephen King blockbuster. Remember <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yfO7gmj0lJ4"><em>Children of the Corn?</em><br /></a><br />Check out the thunder clouds looming above the pivot. Shortly after Justin took this picture a "gully washer," as we call them down south, provided nourishment to the soil. God has His own way of tending to His creation that pales against this giant water sprinkler. God is the Original Nourisher of the soil and the soul. There have been times in my life when I have settled for "imitation sprinklers" for nourishment. But nothing quenches true thirst like the showers of God's words when we allow them to pivot and guide us.</div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><em></div><div align="justify">Fear not, Earth! Be glad and celebrate! God has done great things.Fear not, wild animals! The fields and meadows are greening up.The trees are bearing fruit again: a bumper crop of fig trees and vines! Children of Zion, celebrate! Be glad in your God.He's giving you a teacher to train you how to live right—Teaching, like rain out of heaven, showers of words to refresh and nourish your soul, just as he used to do. And plenty of food for your body—silos full of grain, casks of wine and barrels of olive oil. Joel 2:21-24</div><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div></em>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820856873816127601.post-23453523844243277082009-02-18T15:07:00.016-05:002011-11-05T12:50:41.346-04:00The Store That Love Built<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM8aXm8t2ijcrgfv6k2GZTmeobBdBVaOvH7_xEpoDZiQJERwBrWd98MdonUsycDlpQ0cE73q42gFWIlF5SNN7gEbnlz1PMlc8Uvpe_yxyfsIFxfAIUmkwHcailDTS9B9f0_26o1m8Ir-Xu/s1600-h/love+momument.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304238656353068386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM8aXm8t2ijcrgfv6k2GZTmeobBdBVaOvH7_xEpoDZiQJERwBrWd98MdonUsycDlpQ0cE73q42gFWIlF5SNN7gEbnlz1PMlc8Uvpe_yxyfsIFxfAIUmkwHcailDTS9B9f0_26o1m8Ir-Xu/s200/love+momument.jpg" style="float: left; height: 160px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 200px;" /></a><br />
Living in a small south Georgia town, I have come to realize that last names can take on particular meaning and significance. Often you will hear people say... "you part of them Stricklands?? Sapps?? Todds??" Of course, other names are often mentioned but surnames especially in small, rural areas bring familiarity.<br />
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My maternal grandparents' last name was "Love". It's happens be to ranked #311 in popularity in the US according to <a href="http://names.mongabay.com/data/1000.html">Mongabay.com</a> The surname "Tippins" is listed as 18900. Wow... I'm thinking those "Tippins" think they are a little more popular than that!! haha!<br />
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<div align="justify">My grandparents, Roy and Irene Love, are buried in Nortonville, KY, a small coal-mining community in western Kentucky. Daddy Roy and Mom, as we called them, represented their surname well. And though their last name appears to be fairly common, they were not. Up until their sicknesses, they kept the road from Nortonville, KY to Claxton, GA hot... always coming with a tool box! Daddy Roy was a great repair man (and came cheap!!) They had a passion for Christ and His church. They were like "Jesus... with skin on".<br />
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</div><div align="justify">My grandfather died of cancer in 1995. He fought the good fight and lived 7 months after his diagnosis of colon cancer. There was an 8 hour difference of time between me and my grandparents, and I only saw him a few times before his death. I had so many things I wanted to tell him. I wrote him a little poem, <span style="color: black;"><b><i>The Store that Love Built</i>.</b></span> I mailed it to him but we never had the chance to talk about it. When I wrote the poem, I was feeling extremley guilty that I had not spent more time with him. This poem is framed in my house as a reminder.</div><div align="justify">May I share it with you??<br />
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</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">If "thank you's were noted on lifes special account,</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">I guess "over-due" would read on much of my amount.</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">For I've never walked through your good will store...</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">that I didn't leave with good feelings galore.</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;"></span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">You stock your shelves with kind words and soft smiles,</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">You encourage and show compassion all down your long aisles.</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">Upon entrance a whistle of a special little tune,</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">that signaled to me.. "My Daddy Roy's in the room!"</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;"></span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">This store within, you have built with God's grace,</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">Today I thank you for the love you didn't waste.</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">For you see from your one store, a chain did evolve</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">that nurtured me with love and kind words, even when I was small.</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;"></span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">And now that I'm older, I look at my past.</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">I see the my purchases were made to last.</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">The Store that Love built, you are owner, that's true,</span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: black;">And I love you and "thank you" for overlooking my "past due."</span></i><br />
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</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><i></i></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints." </div><div align="justify">Psalm 116:15</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/79/9A1BE75B000D28C960DE3D5B9F426BC4.png" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; border: 0px none;" /></a></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: red;"></span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: red;"></span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: red;"></span></i></div><div align="justify"><i><span style="color: red;"></span></i></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div>jethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11233326682296258965noreply@blogger.com1