tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117155672024-03-13T06:40:04.431-07:00Boards of Red TulipsGrace withereth without adversity. ~ RutherfordUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger322125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-13552462732589291632012-06-10T08:06:00.001-07:002012-06-10T08:06:34.722-07:00Americans dietOn our stop through Meridian, we discovered a new dietary plan from our friends the Rices. On this plan, rice and all other grains along with their cousins the legumes are blackmail for our bodies. Not only grains but the whole family of dairy. Congestion and fat rolls result if indulged. Throw out all forms of pure sugar and the scientific advances of additives, extra salt and potatoes, and what do we have left to eat? <div>
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Lean meat, </div>
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vegetables, </div>
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fruit,</div>
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olive oil, </div>
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plant based spices. </div>
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Is this possible? Is it healthy? Can we run faster, further, with fewer aches and pains? We are willing to experiment and see. </div>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-48659146548081829952012-06-10T07:52:00.001-07:002012-06-10T07:52:14.490-07:00Down to TexasSouth Texas is a mysterious place. At first glance, not much here but a bunch of mesquite trees and tangles of live oaks. Plenty of moisture in the air, not always in the ground. Towns few and far between make a newcomer a little lonely and wondering where are the resources, the stores, the people. Move down to the coast and the pace of life is slow and steady, methodical as the wind billowing out, blowing light, pushing the shallow bay water up towards the shore. <br />
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We are settled in to our parents' condo for the week. Having breakfast on the balcony, we watch the pedestrian procession of dog walkers set to the beat of shrimp boat and barge motors out in the bay, punctuated with the caw-caw-p-caah of seagulls scavenging. We took note of one walker with exceptional ingenuity: leash lassoed around her own waist, her eager spaniel powered their walk. <br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-12961207559270560042012-06-06T03:49:00.003-07:002023-08-10T12:24:13.319-07:00Ode to Herbs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Herbie the long dog is staying behind us in New Bern. </div>
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After nearly seven years of chasing squirrels, traveling in his little car crate, meekly enduring a toddler in his family, and serving on the greeting committee wherever we call home, he gained a reputation for funniest looking dog, and faithful house guardian with his loud bark.<br />
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In a mysterious twist of ill stretching, he ruptured a disk in his neck the very day we were being packed to move. He was about to embark on a new journey with us, and now we will miss our beady-eyed buddy in the back seat. </div>
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Good bye, Herbals. <br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-29683329853947379902012-06-01T10:44:00.001-07:002012-06-01T10:46:11.759-07:00Time to Move!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This time it's going to be like a mid summer Christmas, by the time we get back to our stuff and after traveling across the country and back. The mess is like the heap of paper immediately following gift opening; the floor invisible, the footing treacherous. Thankfully, we had professional help this time. Packers <i>and</i> movers, while we sorted through the clutter and packed our on-the-go bags. <br />
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Now, the floors are clear, the windows empty, all the work done but the catching up of sleep.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-72088926684253383622012-04-18T18:15:00.002-07:002012-04-18T18:22:05.531-07:00Wed Evening Musings"The servile state always thinks of history, man judging man, because it does not believe in Divine Power. It believes in abstract power. It equates the abstraction Democracy with the abstraction Equality, and this results in blind obedience to the struggle between partisan interests." <div><br /></div><div>~Andrew Lytle</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-3228915568304345712012-01-24T19:15:00.000-08:002012-01-24T19:20:58.842-08:00Party Spirit<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BRhHBkANu_w/Tx90-2i3XII/AAAAAAAADpY/6m8tvfkbuvg/s1600/IMG_4353.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BRhHBkANu_w/Tx90-2i3XII/AAAAAAAADpY/6m8tvfkbuvg/s320/IMG_4353.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701404276416797826" /></a><br />Do you know what that is?<div><br /></div><div>Check out Robert Capon's book, <i>The Party Spirit</i>. The end times meets us in the kitchen! With our guests--and how we host them. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-1440665629262888992012-01-22T18:17:00.000-08:002012-01-22T18:39:39.843-08:007 Years<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-38dN3mMRkB4/TxzIK3afq5I/AAAAAAAADn0/RLh9h-OaqEw/s1600/IMG_4264.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-38dN3mMRkB4/TxzIK3afq5I/AAAAAAAADn0/RLh9h-OaqEw/s320/IMG_4264.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700651317343529874" /></a><br />Seven long years. It's a long time since we publicly pledged our "I do" to each other. Seven years is a turning point in the life of a child, in his growth and development, as many educators and physicians recognize. It's enough time to get some history under the belt of a marriage. Time to "I do" to that and "I don't" to this. Doing about two of those seven years at a distance, like long distance dating, it's tempting to forge ahead with one's separate lives, forming plenty of survival habits and self-made schedules that will all need to change with reuniting. It's tempting to pretend like nothing happened in those seven years to need readjusting. We've gotten along thus far; we are basically fine, right? Where the hand of God is at work, there is no pot-in-the-fire "fine" for long.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-9843426821598181652011-12-18T19:35:00.000-08:002011-12-18T19:35:01.940-08:00Wow.A new Advent season. Reading our recently old posts, I can report that we have indeed "minimized," moving to a 2 bedrm apartment and rediscovering what is "essential." I want to get back to writing, but the deployment and repeated moving needs-based survival schedule took over. So, I guess I haven't actually simplified enough if there's still no time for what I used to think was most important. Maybe re-ordered priorities happened in the process.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3JNon033jtc/Tu6wQsxC3kI/AAAAAAAABNo/h3Qpw0MtD2I/s1600/carrier7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3JNon033jtc/Tu6wQsxC3kI/AAAAAAAABNo/h3Qpw0MtD2I/s320/carrier7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6DAWY0xMlI8/Tu6wjH6PxrI/AAAAAAAABNw/mh7XMuj4DvE/s1600/carrier22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6DAWY0xMlI8/Tu6wjH6PxrI/AAAAAAAABNw/mh7XMuj4DvE/s1600/carrier22.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-87031317995057054162011-04-28T10:40:00.001-07:002011-04-28T10:54:01.207-07:00Moving Day<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r2410DIWG88/TbmpPqna5OI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/kDeYT0GxexE/s1600/IMG_3061.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r2410DIWG88/TbmpPqna5OI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/kDeYT0GxexE/s320/IMG_3061.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600693698214683874" /></a><br />The time has come to say goodbye to our old house and make our way into the new. With the help of our church family and friends, we are able to pack it all up in a timely manner and make the transition with the comfort of their presence. I'm looking forward to the new neighbors we'll meet, even as we will miss our good, good old neighbors. I'm looking forward to the new things O can do since we'll be within walking distance of ice cream cafes, library and his favorite playgrounds. With many tears through our thanksgiving, it's good to have a time of leaving one's "old life" behind and pressing forward into a new. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>[disclaimer: the house in the background is not ours]</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-11247439762697175212011-03-09T09:13:00.000-08:002011-03-09T09:15:48.813-08:00Ash WednesdayAs we wait expectantly for the new life that comes with the Springtime,<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-dKhguRlUBmM/TXezOgem8FI/AAAAAAAABJI/jmnBuPOgL8s/s1600/IMG_2679.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>our inner man is under reconstruction,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-sqghkVVxN2Q/TXeziErWG2I/AAAAAAAABJM/UBQYtFtxIAY/s1600/IMG_2622.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-sqghkVVxN2Q/TXeziErWG2I/AAAAAAAABJM/UBQYtFtxIAY/s320/IMG_2622.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and we are ready for ashes and confession.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-pTO_p43GIuY/TXez-GDlr3I/AAAAAAAABJQ/t1E1DNFvUZE/s1600/IMG_2820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-pTO_p43GIuY/TXez-GDlr3I/AAAAAAAABJQ/t1E1DNFvUZE/s320/IMG_2820.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lord, come quickly! Amen.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-76068991309876925542011-03-01T10:51:00.000-08:002011-03-01T10:51:00.017-08:00Listing one's ThanksAnn Voskamp's new book, <i>One Thousand Gifts</i>, made it into our house and is challenging a very small group of discontents to make that list of things one is thankful for, to list the things we thought were ugly and mere distractions from "real life"as the things that help refine our hearts. It sounds way too simple, and perhaps like wishful, positive brainwashing, but the exercise of giving thanks is akin to weight lifting and squats--small intense movements that produce long term, major effects. There's a way of understanding the common, everyday things that we miss in the blindness of a perspective of mundanity.<br />
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Our morning <i>toast</i> is a gift of someone else's labor, therefore we owe thanks. <br />
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The cream <i>cheese</i> on my bagel is a gift of produce from a creature of the earth, therefore I am indebted and render thanks.<br />
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And <i>tea</i>--what would the day be without it?!--a gift that travelled far and through many hands to reach us, thus multiple layers of thanks is offered for this one cup. <br />
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I am impressed, upon thinking about the things I'm thankful for, what a debtor I am.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-4809198506043082812011-02-07T12:23:00.000-08:002011-02-07T12:23:58.193-08:00living in light of joyFor our friends who are trudging through the nitty gritty red tape of adoption; I read this poem and thought of you.<br />
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Whatever is foreseen in joy<br />
Must be lived out from day to day.<br />
Vision held open in the dark<br />
By our ten thousand days of work.<br />
Harvest will fill the barn; for that<br />
The hand must ache, the face must sweat.<br />
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And yet no leaf or grain is filled<br />
By work of ours; the field is tilled<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TVBN9WfNtFI/AAAAAAAABHY/pOHO6YSOZMo/s1600/IMG_2470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TVBN9WfNtFI/AAAAAAAABHY/pOHO6YSOZMo/s200/IMG_2470.JPG" width="200" /></a>And left to grace. That we may reap,<br />
Great work is done while we're asleep.<br />
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When we work well, a Sabbath mood<br />
Rests on our day, and finds it good.<br />
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Wendell Berry, <i>A Timbered Choir</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-2008034177010348132011-01-28T07:03:00.000-08:002011-01-28T07:03:55.487-08:00Learning to read"For most of us it takes years and years and years to exchange our dream world for the real world of grace and mercy, sacrifice and love, freedom and joy."<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>In Eugene Peterson's book, <i>Eat This Book</i>, I am studying to read again.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-76793972610497994472011-01-25T10:26:00.000-08:002011-01-25T10:26:36.062-08:00on occasionWhat's the one household chore one can do while in labor (with child) and recovering from violent illness? Laundry, of course. The exertion is minimal, the industrious hum of the dryer and washer, and the reward of fresh diapers, towels and socks that need no immediate folding are a satisfying way to make oneself feel not entirely useless even when gravely weak. <br />
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My latest FlyLady habit to practice is a load a day. Before one goes downstairs for the day, grab an armload of dirty clothes, and fill the washer to the brim. But only one load. I admit to cheating sometimes, calling diapers that extra load that's more it's own project than regular laundry. <br />
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<i>Laundry Room. </i>Not something we commonly take pictures of of think too much about!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-58628160859221149482011-01-19T19:45:00.000-08:002011-01-19T19:45:13.852-08:00Snow day!<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In the recent snowfall, we bounded outside before the hidden sun disappeared completely. We bundled O in his rainbow fleece suit, layered on socks, and grabbed the camera. While Herbie ran wild around the neighbors' yard, chasing cats, and the children next door dragged out their round sleds, Eric got the ball rolling for the snowman, carefully stacked and defended from O, who wanted to attack and topple the little snow guy. </div><br />
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After a while, the cold became too much for even rainbow fleece suits. O was becoming a grumpy snowman by the time we hauled him back in for dinner....<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And eating at the table is always fun time, especially when aunts give you vest-like bibs with patches!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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Sure, we are up for orders this year, but in all reality we will propably just stay here. True, we have put our house on the rental market in order to move from a lovely home in the suburbs to a small loft or home in the middle of the city, but we could still fit most of our stuff in there if we wanted to. So why? Why would I want to get rid of so much of our "stuff" and live with as small a footprint as possible? Am I running from something? Are we having a mid-life crisis already? <br />
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To be sure, I am not sure. But I would say that this idea of minimizing is in response to a feeling of the heart. Ok, so maybe feeling is not the right word, but pressure may be. I have met more people over the past year who have seemed to be light posts on a dark and lonely road. . . and they have all felt the same thing. Over Christmas, I was talking with a friend and he said "if I could put a word to what we are doing this year, it would be minimize." <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/ShyM8x3x1jI/AAAAAAAAAo8/UqyYNJWA7dM/s1600/IMG_4559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/ShyM8x3x1jI/AAAAAAAAAo8/UqyYNJWA7dM/s320/IMG_4559.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Christ Himself was all about minimizing. All He asked us to do was take up our cross and follow Him. Maybe that is the key. Maybe I am finally just learning to live as a Christian. At least that is what I would like to think is true. Perhaps I want my identity to be more tied up in who Christ is and what He wants me to do with my "stuff" than tied up in just my "stuff." <br />
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Regardless, the urge and desire is there. Our prayer is just that we would be wise to follow the desire with discretion and follow wherever He may lead.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-40903585459578194292010-12-12T14:02:00.000-08:002010-12-12T14:02:12.757-08:00Rest"As I swore in my wrath, They shall not enter my rest. . . So we see that they were unable to enter because of unbelief." Heb 3: 11-19<br />
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I consistently fall into the trap of thinking that if only I could get the proper amount of time away from my work, or go on a real sabbatical, or maybe even get 8 plus hours of sleep per night I might finally feel rested. But the heart of the matter lies not so much with the rejuvenation of my body, but with the rejuvenation of my heart. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TQVGBMMNZsI/AAAAAAAABEo/TTHX4ZzEUwY/s1600/CIMG0312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TQVGBMMNZsI/AAAAAAAABEo/TTHX4ZzEUwY/s320/CIMG0312.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>And so in order to find the rest that I need to carry out the work I have been called to, I need to seek out not just time off, but time with my Lord, the giver of life and the rest that He provides through His strengthening Spirit. Rest for us in God is rest forever. Let our prayer be then that we have belief in Him with the finality being a rest that is eternal and real.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-7383253464257020352010-12-05T16:11:00.000-08:002010-12-05T16:14:58.908-08:00Advent Musings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TPwq99rbNZI/AAAAAAAABEc/MjtdkC3YaHA/s1600/light_in_darkness2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TPwq99rbNZI/AAAAAAAABEc/MjtdkC3YaHA/s320/light_in_darkness2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>"A voice cries in the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord: make straight in the desert a highway for our God." Isaiah 40:3<br />
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This Advent season is proving to be one of great preparation for me. And well it should be. Advent is the season in which we prepare our hearts for the coming of the Christ, our Saviour. Perhaps more than any other Advent season, this year is allowing me to prepare myself by looking into my heart, which is in turn the catalyst for driving me to Christ and the miracle of his birth. <br />
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As I ponder the hardness of heart, the lack of grace, and my critical nature in general, I recognize a darkness in my spirit that is devoid of life and warmth. Despite my greatest efforts I can not fill this void or add heat to my cold heart. Only God, through Christ, is able<br />
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And so I pray that this season of lights proves to be a season in which my dark heart is illuminated by His grace, love, and sacrifice. Praise be to God, for his gift of Light and Life, and may His Spirit cause me to make straight in the desert of my heart a highway for our God.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-28105699977637480142010-08-31T13:54:00.000-07:002010-08-31T13:54:13.861-07:00Reading:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TH1p4z-mTkI/AAAAAAAABBE/uPTUWHm_nCE/s1600/IMG_1594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TH1p4z-mTkI/AAAAAAAABBE/uPTUWHm_nCE/s320/IMG_1594.JPG" /></a></div><i><br />
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<i>The Prodigal God</i> by Timothy Keller. Excellent explanation of the work God did and does for us, as illustrated in the parable of the "Prodigal Son." The chapter that got to me is the one in which he compares the laying down of Christ's life to that of an elder brother paying the cost of my profligate lifestyle. What real brother would give up even half of his inheritance to enable my life, support my place in the household? Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-24114380762238870182010-08-18T08:14:00.000-07:002010-08-18T08:14:23.019-07:00Meandering<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In these last dog days of summer, the gardens are wilting and going to seed. We've sadly neglected the flower beds and need to give them some fresh manure and mulch on the washed out soil. The dogs think they want to go out for a walk every day, but Herbs falters half way down the neighborhood, panting his complaint that the road is hot, his feet are sore, and he's going to die if he can't lay down in the shade for five minutes. Sweetpea simply puts her paw down and declares "you can drag me but I choose to stay here in this nice neighbor's yard." So, Sweeps just stays home.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TGvy51Qy2EI/AAAAAAAABA4/eS2It6d5S64/s1600/IMG_1332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TGvy51Qy2EI/AAAAAAAABA4/eS2It6d5S64/s320/IMG_1332.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">While Eric's been putting in some long hours, O and I have gone to town, walking. We walk around the neighbourhoods of downtown. We scope out rentals, dreaming of the day we can live in walking distance of the harbour. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>O decided he likes a later bedtime than what we were doing before, so a long evening walk is a perfect way to end a long, hot day.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TGv0oewlxII/AAAAAAAABBA/S2wMpKwBrnI/s1600/IMG_1339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TGv0oewlxII/AAAAAAAABBA/S2wMpKwBrnI/s320/IMG_1339.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(This photo was actually from 4th of July, so he's aged a bit since this was taken. Thanks to Molly and Grandpa for the hat and overalls to match. He likes to wear them red neck style, no shirt).</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-23076581349376077792010-08-15T13:20:00.000-07:002010-08-15T13:20:32.861-07:00All smiles this summer<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TGhJHEIjKtI/AAAAAAAABAc/lzUACmzw7Og/s1600/IMG_1487.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TGhJHEIjKtI/AAAAAAAABAc/lzUACmzw7Og/s320/IMG_1487.JPG" /></a></span></span></span><br />
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We spent a lovely afternoon in Emerald Isle with our "Webster Family" a couple weekends ago. They know how to live at the beach, with a huge tent to stake claim to a piece of the beach and enjoy a nap without frying. O was intrigued with Elle's beach toys, who was not so fond of a wee boy snagging her loot. I wouldn't either! Boys are notoriously destructive of dolls, dirty the carefully protected dress up clothes, and are generally creatures to beware until further notice of good manners. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TGhLUuydU9I/AAAAAAAABAk/0EkFqudV__I/s1600/IMG_1482.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TGhLUuydU9I/AAAAAAAABAk/0EkFqudV__I/s320/IMG_1482.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>(Regretfully, the photos are poor quality; consider them impressionistic). Check out more of O's happenings at The Talking Lion blog.<br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-3723614886671350022010-08-06T06:06:00.000-07:002010-08-06T06:06:57.966-07:00hot dog summer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TFwF4j2MEBI/AAAAAAAAA_c/-TaQ3xfWB3o/s1600/IMG_1464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TFwF4j2MEBI/AAAAAAAAA_c/-TaQ3xfWB3o/s320/IMG_1464.JPG" /></a></div><br />
It's been warm here, so much so that we are glad to be busy and indoors and since we (sadly) are not farmers we need not be out in the dry dirt. <br />
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But we've had good Saturdays to read on the couch, mow the grass, and stock the fridge at the Farmer's Market--the "normal" things. <br />
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Because we live within an hour of the best beaches around, we make obligatory drives down every weekend, or find a pool to swim and soak in the cool waters. <br />
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Omari has found his favorite place to be in the water and sand, relishing the texture and salt spray, and mysteriously knew that when Papa built him a sand castle last week, he was supposed to knock it down!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-67435671357913999732010-06-25T06:21:00.000-07:002010-06-25T06:21:28.599-07:00home againJiggidy Jig. We return to home base with no little sadness and resignation that life as we know it continues, with work and "back to normal" and learning what that means all over again. If deployment is our dividing line for time together, the child is the line of a new race for us to run. May our hearts rise to the occasion.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TCSrrv2imfI/AAAAAAAAA78/sgi9ZVogf2c/s1600/IMG_1069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/TCSrrv2imfI/AAAAAAAAA78/sgi9ZVogf2c/s200/IMG_1069.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-54396028417593741182010-03-05T13:43:00.000-08:002010-03-05T13:43:11.829-08:00fair warningHer majesty Orual has rescued and revivified her journal: Deadlands and Courtyards, as linked to the right.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715567.post-45783637192324658102010-01-31T12:00:00.000-08:002010-01-31T12:01:54.044-08:00Blog Friend<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/S2XhLvN_RfI/AAAAAAAAA5k/pHLCYJ0koFM/s1600-h/IMG_1805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_A7GlCKu-DsY/S2XhLvN_RfI/AAAAAAAAA5k/pHLCYJ0koFM/s320/IMG_1805.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On these wintry days, it's a pleasure to hole up in the warm house and read, drink hot beverages, and talk.</div><br />
One of our good friends sent us a link to their new blog, created as a forum for discussion. As a group who meets regularly, they are thinking through the book of Hebrews. Now, the rest of us can join in on their musings and add to the community of thought.<br />
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Check out the side link of "Batter my Heart"<br />
http://battermyheartblog.blogspot.com/Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3