tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19229466607856614952024-03-19T01:42:59.894-07:00Woman of Many ThoughtsWoman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.comBlogger155125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-4112044136772627862012-09-03T22:16:00.001-07:002012-09-03T22:16:23.775-07:00DreamI had a counseling session today. Over the past few weeks I have been presented with opportunities to understand and begin to realize the extent of the nasty disease of alcoholism. I am starting to see my father as God sees him and not as the man who has caused much hurt and abandonment in my life. I am starting to see the alcohol separate from HIM. My dad has never been physically abusive. He was a good father when I was young. There are abandonment issues I have due to the alcohol and the separation between he and my mother. My dad is a good man. The alcohol is a horrible disease. Just so we're strait. <br />
<br />
My counselor asked me if I prayed for my father. Honestly I prayed for many years, but I gave up because the relationship between my father and myself has gotten worse, just as his alcohol, depression, and family crap has gotten worse. He has not seen his grandson, my son, Isaac, since he was 9 months old and he's now 3 1/2. I have not talked to my dad in, on my birthday, it'll be one year. I have been hurt so many times that I am afraid I would damage him more by exploding all of my pent up anger against him and his addiction. I need to be healed of my hurts before I can be at a place to love my dad unconditionally. So no, I haven't been praying for my dad. I gave up. I put God in a box. "The man who created the heavens and the earth and all of the things in this Earth isn't big enough to heal my father." So I came home and for the first time in at least one year I prayed for my dad before I slept. This is the dream I had:<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I went to visit my father, alone. I asked him where he was living now and he said, "My father's house". But when he gave me the address, he was in the same location I grew up at when I was a kid, not at grandpa's. The outside was almost the same but the house was different. There were more rooms. I was confused but I never addressed it.<br />
<br />
We had a surfacey conversation standing outside. We weren't looking at each other, we were facing away from the house looking into the woods where I used to play. My grandmother had carved out of the woods a place for me to play pretend house. I had an old queen sized bed covered in plastic where I used to jump and lay on and read during the long summer months. I also had a kitchen at the bottom of some trees that grew close together which she nailed some old wood in between to make me counter tops. She gave me old tupperware and pots and pans so that I could pretend play. Then she carved a tunnel through the blackberry vines that I could run through which started from the inside of the play house forest and went all the way through to the other side of the back yard. This was my refuge when I was a kid. <br />
<br />
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />There was something different about dad. A kind of peace. I could see it in his eyes that he knew the hurt he caused me over the years but he wasn't trying to make up for it. He was just there to love on me. He was more interested to know about where I had been. I tested the waters and would open up to little things like visiting his dad and his brother, which were big no-no's growing up (I dare not tell him about my relationship with my own mom, his ex-wife). If I were to tell him about my relationship with his family today he would be very angry. But he engaged in the conversation with no condemnation or judgment towards me, as if he had been visiting with them as well.
<br />
<br />
"I would have thought you would have gotten rid of this place," I said to dad after a few moments of silence while still looking into my old play ground in the woods. As he inhaled a puff of his cigarette, he exhaled and said, "Ah....I still have some plans for it." Then he exhaled his smoke and started to walk away with a sligh smile on his face. Dad hides his smoking addiction from me, even after I found out he was a smoker, still to this day.<br />
<br />
As I started to follow him, I looked down and against the house were boxes of things left next to the house, as if someone was moving in. I saw a box opened with pictures I had taken over my life time of my family. Pictures of which I had not given my father, but somehow he still had them. They were nicely framed and respectfully packed as if he just put the box there a moment ago and was bringing them into the house but was interrupted by my visit. It seemed as though he was just moving in. I wanted to take these pictures with me when I left but I didn't say anything to dad.<br />
<br />
I continued to walk up the side of the house and there was the camper. <br />
<br />
As a kid we had spent many hours and weekends clearing out the side of the house to make a parking spot for my grandmother's truck and camper. She was coming for a visit and we were all going to make a road trip to Alaska for a month. We pulled weeds, took out bushes, took down a tree, and had to burn the stump down to get the root of the tree trunk out. Many memories of sitting around the burning stump were made with my dad. We even roasted marshmallows a time or two. We would both come in the house smelling like campfire and loved that we had sort of a camping experience in our own backyard. I felt safe knowing dad was right outside my bedroom window at night as I slept, watching the burning stump, keeping the fire under control so it wouldn't burn the house down. <br />
<br />
I walked along the path between the house and the camper and found dad doing yard work in the front yard. As a kid my dad was always angry to do any kind of yard work and I was not allowed to be outside with him while he mowed the lawn. He let me just be with him this time and watch him as he pushed the mower with his strong arms and trimmed the shrubbery along the front of the property. The old gravel driveway was now paved and where there used to be grass was now the squishy foam stuff you'd find on the floor of a McDonald's indoor play yard. I commented on how nice it would be to put this under Isaac's play set. I thought it was strange that my dad was not discouraging me from this idea but it was almost as if he just knew I wasn't going to be able to do it. <br />
<br />
As we walked back towards the house, along the path we just took, through the outside garage door, into the door from the garage to the house, and into the house, the house was not the same. It was a completely different house that I had never seen before. There was an excess amount of furniture as if it were a college frat house and many people lived there, but there was only my dad and myself present. We walked into the living room where we had more conversations. He was in the kitchen fixing a snack for us. He always had a way of making something from nothing and it always tasted good to me because he made it. If I were to eat the same foods that he prepared today, I'd probably gag. But he made it with love and I loved my dad, therefore, I loved the food he cooked. I loved watching him cook. <br />
<br />
He stepped out of the room for a minute and I was alone in the house. I looked around to gain more knowledge about who my dad is by the furniture and decorations in the house. Then I stared at the big white refrigerator. I walked towards the fridge and placed my hand on the handle. Should I open it? If I did and saw beer cans, I would be devastated. Once again it would be another seemingly nice meeting with my dad until his disease gets the best of him and blows up on me over something insignificant in life, causing more of a divide between the two of us, while making me feel like nothing. But it was different this time. I didn't have to open the door. I knew he was no longer drinking. <br />
<br />
He walked back into the room and brought a few of his friends with him. These friends of his happened to be some of my older friends that are currently the same age as my own father. I've had two counselors in my life and they were there. Both walked in and sat down on a couch. Another friend of mine (who has a relationship with his adult daughters, even though it may be dysfunctional, they are still a close family, and I can only long to be as close to my father in that way) was running in and out of the room as if he was busy doing something, preparing for something. <br />
<br />
Dad took me on a tour of the rest of the house. We walked into a room full of dressers, couches and miscellaneous furniture, all stacked nicely one in front of the other as if they were in store a warehouse waiting to be sold and moved. I asked what all of this was for and he said, "I'm moving grandpa in." This confused me because if he was living in his "fathers house"...why would he be moving his father in... with him... to his house? Then I saw a stair case. I asked dad if I could see the rest of the house. He said, "I wasn't expecting you. It's not quite ready yet and we've got a while to go, so it's messy up there, but you're welcome to go up there and take a look around."<br />
<br />
At the top of the stairs I saw bags of presents, balloons, rocking horses, toys, baby gates. I realized my dad had prepared all of this for Isaac, who I had left behind because I couldn't trust myself around my dad and didn't want Isaac to witness a blow-out. I felt horrible that he was expecting to see Isaac and I had not brought him. As I walked back down the stairs I began to panic. I left my son behind, but with who? I couldn't remember who was taking care of Isaac. I started to freak out and my counselors were comforting me. My other friend handed me his phone after dialing a number. "Tell him what you need and He'll help you," he said in a hurried fashion. "What is this, a psychic line?" I said as I grabbed the phone and he ran off.<br />
<br />
Him: "Hello?" "Can I help you?"<br />
<br />
Me: "Can you tell me where my son is?"<br />
<br />
Him: "I AM sorry, I can't tell you."<br />
<br />
Me: "Can you at least give me a hint, I'm freaking out here. It's like my brain can't remember where I was before I got here."<br />
<br />
There was a long silence.<br />
<br />
Him: "She is afraid you will leave her again." <br />
<br />
And then He hung up. <br />
<br />
Immediately, I knew who He was talking about. My son was with my mom.<br />
<br />
(After my grandmother (my father's mom) moved in with dad, soon after our Alaska trip, my mother was made to be my enemy in our house. My 9th grade year would be the last year I would spend with my mom for 7 years. We have healed our relationship over the years and she is an integral part of my life as well as my family's life.)<br />
<br />
When I gave the phone back to my friend, I started to grab my purse and keys to go get my son and bring him back... that's when I woke up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
My heart pounding heavily and tears starting to well up in my eyes, I started to process this whole dream immediately after I awoke this afternoon from a nap. I was confused. Majorly confused. But my processing was quickly interrupted by a loud, "Heaven", in my head. *gasp!* *lightbulb!* I was in heaven visiting my dad some time in our future after he passes and I am left on earth without him...and without closure or healing. My dad WAS in his <i>Father's</i> house, his heavenly Father. My friends who love and care about me had been waiting for me right along side my dad, getting to know him to pass the time until I arrived. I hadn't arrived yet. I wasn't dead. I was visiting him for just a quick moment. My dad had been <i>preparing</i> a place for all the people he loved to arrive: my room was in the woods where I still find my refuge to this day, Isaac's room was upstairs with all of the presents my dad wished he would have given him over his lifetime, and the back room full of furniture for his own father. The box of photo's were pictures God gave him to comfort him in all the time he missed out on. I can imagine God sitting down with my dad in heaven going through each and every memory my dad has missed out on and re-living it with him, for him. God was filling in the gaps of my father's life that has been taken by alcohol, depression, and family hurts. <br />
<br />
This was my first memory verse as a child when I attended Christian school for Kindergarten and 1st Grade:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Jesus Comforts His Disciples:<br />"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will com back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going." John 14: 1-4</blockquote>
<br />
God then spoke to me and said, "I love you. And I know all of your hurts. I <i>know</i> the pain your father has caused you. I also know your father and know all of his hurts and I. Love. Him. Too. It is not your responsibility to <i>fix</i> your father. He is mine, not yours, and his <i>life</i> is mine, not yours." <br />
<br />
I sat up in my bed with tears rolling down my cheeks. I was heavily weeping. For a moment I pondered, "Was this really from God?" Then my ears tuned into my son's radio where we keep the christian radio station on 24/7. "I Can Only Imagine" by Mercy Me was playing:<br />
<br />
From the 2009 Dove Awards: Mercy Me - I Can Only Imagine and Finally Home<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/P-MSBvPqRKg" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
I may not be able to fix my father, but with God's help, He's healing me one day at a time from the lies that have been planted in me my entire life. I pray that someone will come into his life and tell him about this great God of mine. And I pray he can be healed from his own lies planted in him before it's too late and enjoy some of his time on earth. My dream gave me hope. My God gives me hope.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-47028903042383030482012-08-12T22:32:00.001-07:002012-08-12T22:49:10.034-07:00Security Blanket<div style="text-align: justify;">
I still consider myself a baby at times. I became a Christian 9 years ago and was baptized 7 years ago. There are days I feel I just don't get this whole mess and then I remember, I am only 9. I remember 9. I was in the 3rd grade for most of 9. The year we learned to write in cursive and my teacher had an amazing teddy bear collection I envied. I was old enough to think, "Isn't she a little old to have stuffed animals"? We made crayon art by melting crayons on a burner and pouring them on a piece of paper. I was old enough to be given the responsibility to work with appliances that could potentially burn me. I became a woman that year (I'll save you the details...women, you know what that means), wore a bra, and beat every boy on the playground at teatherball. I cursed one out and got in big trouble. I was old enough to know right from wrong, old enough to start thinking about others instead of myself...not all the time of course, I was only 9. But I realized when I cursed that boy out how I must have really embarrassed him in front of all of his friends and felt horrible about what I had done. And in bed at night as I slept, I still sucked my thumb with my blankie.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-gJ0oPyVCxpTryxk1uf3LafiQRRmGkRwcXTFi9k3goqg_gJzvNng-4H88HmFyEhXUaW3SHBlVzellyxSVK6E4dNxWwwxdcAkawA_ceRTeh_zULHQq3hYs-TIl_8AcGx8Jo9oy6yl8Qs/s1600/cba6ed0a-96f0-4731-aa68-f97d7b276430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-gJ0oPyVCxpTryxk1uf3LafiQRRmGkRwcXTFi9k3goqg_gJzvNng-4H88HmFyEhXUaW3SHBlVzellyxSVK6E4dNxWwwxdcAkawA_ceRTeh_zULHQq3hYs-TIl_8AcGx8Jo9oy6yl8Qs/s1600/cba6ed0a-96f0-4731-aa68-f97d7b276430.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In many ways, my walk with Christ is just as if I was in the 3rd grade. I've walked with Him long enough to be entrusted with things that might burn me if I'm not careful. I'm becoming more of a woman of God the closer I get to Him. I know that when I'm not choosing to walk with Him, my thoughtless words spoke in the heat of a moment can hurt and embarrass others just like I caused hurt and embarrassment to that little boy on the play ground. And in bed at night as I fall asleep, when my thoughts are racing through my head prevent me from "resting", I turn to my security blanket for comfort. Matthew 11:28, "Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest". The hardest lesson right now is learning to put myself last and God first. Learning to <a href="http://www.openbible.info/topics/death_to_self">die to myself daily</a>. This is an especially hard task from someone who was an only child and conditioned to need the approval of others. What people think of me could be considered my form of idolatry, idolizing the opinions of people rather than serving God. The bible is very clear that we can't serve two masters. Matthew 6:24, "No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to one and despise the other". </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihsoRcL2TkpQvkCG7n8legugM7ptTWdFyuELOnFCOSCZFsMsUwpkjohAMrCBDLksGlDnpFxKPt1b-pQ9HctTmiRS6kUJ1MFSCnFTOEN5lZDe7oo6r1y7QBamedXREkeR6tutO7U3vANu4/s1600/Dave-and-the-giant-pickle-veggie-tales-2362180-1024-768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihsoRcL2TkpQvkCG7n8legugM7ptTWdFyuELOnFCOSCZFsMsUwpkjohAMrCBDLksGlDnpFxKPt1b-pQ9HctTmiRS6kUJ1MFSCnFTOEN5lZDe7oo6r1y7QBamedXREkeR6tutO7U3vANu4/s320/Dave-and-the-giant-pickle-veggie-tales-2362180-1024-768.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My husband and I are embarking on a calling from God that challenges this weakness in me. I'll share more when I can but for now know that this calling puts ourselves in the direct line of fire to become persecuted for what we believe in. People will judge us and many people are afraid to do what we have been called to do for fear of a reputation among man. And while I wish so badly to cuss out those who have already caused us pain, I march on trembling at the knees, with the strength to take down the giant who is oppressing the people of this community, gathering my strength from the One who saves. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKSrZjUQpJr5-jxMMJe_D8LbTULeWA5x-nM2Ixnh5UZwccaz30ZitO5JIvIO8qrznBZK9QjPU4QM43OAW_GkB-5JLRxl_KwDSkPlOutUkt_HU2rmzPqj1NxbR98XsvvZMR0S5EM0aO7p4/s1600/Dave31-222x180.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKSrZjUQpJr5-jxMMJe_D8LbTULeWA5x-nM2Ixnh5UZwccaz30ZitO5JIvIO8qrznBZK9QjPU4QM43OAW_GkB-5JLRxl_KwDSkPlOutUkt_HU2rmzPqj1NxbR98XsvvZMR0S5EM0aO7p4/s1600/Dave31-222x180.png" /></a>
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">1 Samuel 17:45-47, "<span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">David said to the Philistine, “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the </span><span class="nivsmallcaps" style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant: small-caps; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">Lord</span><span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"> Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. </span><span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">This day the </span><span class="nivsmallcaps" style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant: small-caps; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">Lord</span><span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"> will hand you over to me, and I’ll strike you down and cut off your head. Today I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds of the air and the beasts of the earth, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. </span><span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the </span><span class="nivsmallcaps" style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant: small-caps; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">Lord</span><span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;"> saves; for the battle is the </span><span class="nivsmallcaps" style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant: small-caps; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">Lord</span><span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 25px;">’s, and he will give all of you into our hands.”</span> </span></blockquote>
<br />
Now that's the ultimate cuss-out.<span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><br />
<br />
Please pray.Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-64341724461639965312012-04-04T22:26:00.001-07:002012-04-04T22:26:38.744-07:00Hoppy Easter!<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dhSQlzJEAfI/T30tCyZuK9I/AAAAAAAAA4Q/WjSbgUeeYWs/1333603572392.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dhSQlzJEAfI/T30tCyZuK9I/AAAAAAAAA4Q/WjSbgUeeYWs/s288/1333603572392.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
This week has been full of pain and suffering. It seems every year during Passion Week I experience a small glimpse of Christ's suffering. My son has a cold. *insert big sad face* We're embarking on a HUGE community awareness campaign (more to come on that soon). And it seems as though there's not enough hours in the day. But my spirits are up! Seriously, I've been walking with my buddy Jesus the whole time and He's providing me everything I need. Including some time to decorate for spring. :D <br/>
<br/>
Here's to hope, redemption, health and strength. Have a very blessed holiday!<br/><p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'>posted from <a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'>Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-47926733251898626392012-03-21T22:22:00.001-07:002012-03-21T22:22:56.275-07:00Ah ah ah ah Work Out!<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'>So here's the deal. I hate working out unless it's fun. Running? Not fun, unless you're chasing someone or playing soccer. Stair climber? Not fun, unless your 'stairs' are on the side of a hill, in the middle of the woods, in the form of stumps and rocks. Lifting weights? Not fun unless it's in the form of a 3-year-old, or shopping bags. Row machine? Not fun, unless your on a lake with a real boat and real paddles and have a fishing pole.<br/>
<br/>
So what am I doing to uh uh uh uh work out? I put together a list of activities I love to do, cut them up and stuck them in a jar. Every day when I'm ready to sweat, I pull a piece of paper out and get surprised with a fun work out. I don't do routine and I don't do mundane.<br/>
<br/>
Here's my list:<br/>
Dance with Isaac.<br/>
Play dart gun wars with my hubby.<br/>
Work out video to some hot work out beats. (work out beats are listed below)<br/>
Take Isaac on a bike ride.<br/>
Wrestle hubby. (and lose)<br/>
Take Isaac to the park and chase him.<br/>
Walk to the thrift store with Isaac.<br/>
Work out to a Wii game. (Zumba, Wii Active, or Wii Fit)<br/>
London Bridge, Row Row Row Your Boat, Ring Around The Rosy, Rosy, Crab Crawl/Bear Crawl, with Isaac.<br/>
100 workout. <br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qr122zYlr8U/T2q3LSNDMDI/AAAAAAAAA4I/a9TrvOvJDWE/1332393785843.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-qr122zYlr8U/T2q3LSNDMDI/AAAAAAAAA4I/a9TrvOvJDWE/s288/1332393785843.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 231px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
Yoga.<br/>
Chase Isaac around the church and go up and down the stairs 10 times. (we're a pastor's family and live right next door to the church)<br/>
Play kick the ball (soccer) with Isaac.<br/>
<br/>
I'll add more as I think of them. <br/>
<br/>
What do you do to keep active?<br/>
<br/>
Here's my work out play list right now:<br/>
"Sexy and I Know it" LMFAO (I play "Elmo and I know" it because Isaac likes that version better)<br/>
"Eye of the Tiger" Surviver<br/>
"Get Low" Lil' Jon & The East Side Boyz<br/>
"Everybody Dance Now" C&C Music Factory<br/>
"New Sensation" INXS<br/>
"Somebody Told Me" The Killers<br/>
"Moves Like Jagger" Maroon 5<br/>
"Remember the Name" Fort Minor<br/>
"Enter Sandman" Metalica<br/>
"Lose Yourself" Eminen<br/><p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'>posted from <a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'>Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-80122297763398181702012-03-16T23:46:00.001-07:002012-03-16T23:52:03.645-07:003!I can't believe you're 3!<br />
<br />
It was just yesterday I was holding you in my arms as an infant. Man, it's really true how much faster life goes when you're having fun! I couldn't imagine my life without you. You bring me so much joy, laughter...a lot of laughter, and growth. I've become a better person every day because of you. <br />
<br />
Here's a few of your favorite things:<br />
<br />
Dinosuars<br />
Cars and trucks and trains and anything with wheels.<br />
You love your bicycle.<br />
Stuffies, especially Ham and Bacon (your pigs) and your monster pillow<br />
Strawberries.<br />
Super Why, Dinosaur Train, Sid the Science Kid, Curious George, and Thomas.<br />
Music, especially playing the drums or the piano, and the air guitar while exclaiming, "rock staaar!" <br />
Dancing.<br />
Books! You love to read them back to me when I'm finished.<br />
God. You have a unique love for God for a kid your age. You already show the gift of evangelism. <br />
People. You love people of all ages, from babies to the elderly.<br />
Tickling.<br />
Peanut butter and jelly samwiches<br />
Art. I think you're left handed.<br />
Praying. Anytime. Anywhere. You're the only kid who prays with the worship team before we go on Sunday mornings. And if you don't get a chance to say a prayer, we have to pray again.<br />
Messes.<br />
Helping.<br />
Decorating.<br />
Good smelling things. You always notice when I have perfume on.<br />
Complimenting and encouraging others. You always say, "good job". Every morning when I get dressed and ready for the day you tell me I'm beautiful.<br />
Being polite.<br />
Making up your own words.<br />
Taking pictures even if you don't have a camera.<br />
Family, especially your Grandparents.<br />
Going somewhere, anywhere. You just love to go.<br />
<br />
The list goes on. <br />
<br />
You are rediculously incredible my crazy son. I love you very very much. Happy birthday.<br />
<br />
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-PB8x4Sh_6u0/T2Q0kSHT3HI/AAAAAAAAA4A/lU4X_PbbQ-g/1331967131527.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 163px; height: 288px;" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-PB8x4Sh_6u0/T2Q0kSHT3HI/AAAAAAAAA4A/lU4X_PbbQ-g/s288/1331967131527.jpeg" border="0" /></a><br /><p align="right" style="font-size: xx-small">posted from <a href="https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger">Bloggeroid</a></p>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-89601554954942638902012-03-14T07:43:00.001-07:002012-03-14T07:43:07.685-07:00Masterpiece<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'>Beings that I'm a painter, to hear God say I'm His masterpiece has always been so comforting. I imagine He picked out every physical feature I have and then smiled when He added my gifts and personality traits. Ephesians 2:10 says, "For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." Not only did He create me as an individual masterpiece, but Paul writes that WE are His masterpiece, not masterpieces. God created me just the way He wanted me to fit in with the entire picture, on earth and in heaven. <br/>
<br/>
I've struggled with "belonging" my entire life. I was born into an unhealthy marriage between my parents. To my dad I was an accident and a lie because my mom thought she couldn't have children. Don't get me wrong, my parents love me, but from the start I didn't belong in their picture. I've struggled because I was an only child, because I switched schools often, and as I get older my communities have changed as well, making it difficult to find a sense of belonging on this Earth. But God says this was all a part of His masterpiece, His design, His plan. I am made whole through Him. I find my belonging through Him. <br/>
<br/>
It wasn't until recently that I truely understood this. I've had to rely on God to fill my every need. I've also had to retrain myself to seek guidance from Him instead of people. Since I was not brought up in a Christian home, I have had to learn all of this through the college of hard knocks. How to be a Christian wife, a Christian mom, a Christian friend, a Christian daughter, and a child of God. <br/>
<br/>
I remember when all of this first started to click. I was craving a date with my husband about a year ago. We had just moved to a new home, far away from anything we were familiar with (including a babysitter). We hadn't been on a date in about 6 months. Instead of harping on my husband to take me out, I started to pray, asking God to fill ny needs. Husband, about a week later, took me to my favorite restaurant and on a beautiful sunset drive while holding hands and a sleeping toddler in the back seat. Even though we had him with us, it was the first time in a long time we felt like we had a date. When I had become so desperate and finally turned to God, He was excited to fulfilled my needs. He was probably thinking, "what took you so long"? Haha. <br/>
<br/>
Now that the hard core toddler years are here, I'm relying on God for the strength to get through the rough days. I found implementing scripture into our son's life gives him strength. Especially when he gets frustrated when he "can't" do something all by his independent self. It also keeps me focused on God rather than my, what sometimes seems like, inability to parent successfully. <br/>
<br/>
Now I'm working on relying on God to be nice to myself. I often critique His masterpiece. And if God's anything like me, a critique of something so personal hurts. Thank God He's patient with me. Beside's, doesn't God tell us to love our neighbor as OURSELF (Matthew 23:39), and that the definition of LOVE is: patient, kind, etc... (1 Corrinthians 13:4)? We are commended to love OURSELF, our neighbor and God. He wants me to love me. <br/>
<br/>
Can you see yourself as a masterpiece in an art gallery filled with other amazing masterpieces that all fit together? God can.<br/><p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'>posted from <a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'>Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-30274444123182789992012-03-08T23:20:00.001-08:002012-03-08T23:20:43.351-08:00Shining as bright as the day<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'>I've been reflecting a lot lately on what I need to die to daily (Luke 9:23). Then I heard an old U2 song, which was about a friend of Bono's OD'ing...but Bono's lyrics go so much deeper. He wrote: <br/>
<br/>
" Into the half-light And through the flame<br/>
<br/>
If I could through myself Set your spirit free I'd lead your heart away See you break, break away Into the light And to the day"<br/>
<br/>
For me today that means if I can get myself out of the way and let Jesus' Holy Spirit break out through me, he would bring light to the darkness, a light so bright that it would become daytime. Right now it feels as if I'm only allowing Him to be a flashlight.<br/>
<br/>
<a href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NdDBV6VX3fc&feature=youtube_gdata_player'>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NdDBV6VX3fc&feature=youtube_gdata_player</a> <br/>
<br/>
Thank you Bono, my modern day psalmist.<br/><p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'>posted from <a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'>Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-15486640980381425792012-03-06T18:35:00.003-08:002012-03-06T19:18:52.713-08:00Over played and under worked...<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">Grandpa and grandma came out for a visit a week ago? Maybe two weeks ago. I have no concept of time anymore. Anyway, Ike was super stoked to wake up from a nap and see them! He asked where their plane was, expecting to see it in the parking lot. However this time they drove with a new big truck! And they brought a little surprise for a big boy! </span></span><br /><br /><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-rY-kVdyx8WU/T1bHwZIAuII/AAAAAAAAA3Q/fx7uMicg_W4/1331087267551.jpeg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; " onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-rY-kVdyx8WU/T1bHwZIAuII/AAAAAAAAA3Q/fx7uMicg_W4/s288/1331087267551.jpeg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;" /></a><br /><br /><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">Well the weather has been pretty nuts here lately with crazy winds. When the wind isn't here, we've been crazy busy. So today, after practicing circles for a couple of weeks, around the living room, into the kitchen, back through the living room, and through the kitchen again, we FINALLY got to take this bad boy (the bike, not the kid) to a real park with a really big parking lot!</span></span><br /><br /><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-XPPjS3JxfjQ/T1bH7WK2l3I/AAAAAAAAA3Y/mOfWcab12XE/1331087312727.jpeg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; " onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-XPPjS3JxfjQ/T1bH7WK2l3I/AAAAAAAAA3Y/mOfWcab12XE/s288/1331087312727.jpeg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;" /></a><br /><br /><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">He was a rock star for sure! </span></span><br /><br /><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">We ate sandwiches in the dugouts </span></span><br /><br /><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OsKhdRjRCXM/T1bIqHMHs-I/AAAAAAAAA3g/cXUuA3hxFCQ/1331087356648.jpeg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; " onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OsKhdRjRCXM/T1bIqHMHs-I/AAAAAAAAA3g/cXUuA3hxFCQ/s288/1331087356648.jpeg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;" /></a><br /><br /><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">Got off the bike for two minutes and checked out the big toys</span></span><br /><br /><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-tQoF7wbmwyQ/T1bI2OWne1I/AAAAAAAAA3o/8L-cuZkhYO0/1331087542711.jpeg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; " onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-tQoF7wbmwyQ/T1bI2OWne1I/AAAAAAAAA3o/8L-cuZkhYO0/s288/1331087542711.jpeg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;" /></a><br /><br /><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">And rode some more </span></span><br /><br /><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-9BP81zW4MgA/T1bJNWmoWnI/AAAAAAAAA3w/e-m7aFjr7QI/1331087591885.jpeg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; " onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-9BP81zW4MgA/T1bJNWmoWnI/AAAAAAAAA3w/e-m7aFjr7QI/s288/1331087591885.jpeg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;" /></a><br /><br /><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">We had a super fun day. When we got home he even said, "Mommy! I had a fun time with you today!" Melt my heart. Seriously? </span></span><br /><br /><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">Last night the women's group I lead at church had a girl's night off from serious studies and just watched a movie. Normally I'm hesitant to just watch a movie because there's no real fellowship time. But when the ladies suggested <a href="http://www.courageousthemovie.com/">Courageous</a>, I thought it would be a good opportunity for them to hear a message on parenting. Plus we've been working really hard lately, we just needed a good mind numbing break. </span></span><br /><br /><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">The message was on being the kind of parent and spouse God wants you to be from the perspective of fathers. To which my husband questioned me showing at a women's group...but a great deal of what we work on is our relationships with our own earthly fathers and looking to our father in heaven for a true, unconditional love. </span></span><br /><br /><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">There were some heart stopping moments in the movie. The kind to where you can't breath anymore if you relate it to your own personal life. Moments that made me reflect on how much time I spend with my family and how high of a quality that time is. See I like high quality things because they last longer. The way I parent and act towards my husband will have a ripple effect on the generations to come after me. I don't just want to be better than my father and mother, I want to be the best parent God created. I want my time here on earth to be like a 1000 thread count </span>Egyptian<span style="font-size: 100%;"> cotton sheet. </span></span><br /><br /><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">This movie effected me. It was horrible acting, as most Christian films are, but the message was perfect. And exactly what I needed to hear. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qaHmiFaX_pk">"I don't want to spend my whole life asking, 'what if I had given everything, instead of going through the motions'.</a>" </span></span><br /><br /><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">So today, I was more patient with Isaac. I made him pancakes first thing this morning and we snuggled while watching Super Why. I took him to the park and had lunch, just him and me. So long as he wasn't in danger, I let him control what he wanted to do and where he wanted to go. Then, when we stopped by the police department on our way home, I let him check out the remote control airplane the court interpreter was flying on his lunch break even though I would have normally been in a hurry to get him home for a nap to keep the schedule. When we got home I took a nap with him and watched him fall asleep, when I normally would put him down in his own bed and wash the dishes or do laundry. I litterally soaked up every minute with him today. And I wore him out doing it too!</span></span><br /><br /><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-fkm2pEABA1A/T1bJeMlaQVI/AAAAAAAAA34/BEHOEgsmBZU/1331087684567.jpeg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; " onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-fkm2pEABA1A/T1bJeMlaQVI/AAAAAAAAA34/BEHOEgsmBZU/s288/1331087684567.jpeg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;" /></a><br /><br /><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">Isaac has never fallen back asleep on the couch after waking up from a nap, let alone on my lap. I just stared at his sleeping face, praying over him for a half an hour until he woke up. And truth be told, my son is better when mommy's better. And mommy's better when I am one with God and not one with the house.</span></span><br /><p style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: xx-small; " align="right">posted from <a href="https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger">Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-70958711104116993322012-02-17T01:09:00.001-08:002012-02-17T01:09:16.219-08:00Gift<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'>I thought I'd do a post on Isaac. It's been a while. He's getting to be such a big boy! He'll be 3 in exactly 1 month.<br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-k20AFilMEQY/Tz4ZFUGux2I/AAAAAAAAA20/7ifSLk8ascc/1329469707623.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-k20AFilMEQY/Tz4ZFUGux2I/AAAAAAAAA20/7ifSLk8ascc/s288/1329469707623.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
Words can't describe how I feel to be his mom. But I'm going to try :)<br/>
<br/>
Last weekend at church a friend of mine who is in the process of getting custody of her son, walked in with tears in her eyes. Her regularly scheduled visit with her son, somehow, got messed up and he never showed. I can't imagine my time with Isaac to be limited to very small hours a week. Some weeks I'm fed up and need a break from my crazy two-year-old and take forgranted the blessing he is even in his craziness. Isaac noticed she needed a friend that day. He walked up to her seated at her table while holding back the tears, he said, "can I sit with you?". <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Our little man has always been so full of love and compassion for other people that he truly sets the example for me. He's a comforter. There's something in his DNA that is such a unique gift for even a two-year-old, let alone an adult, which draws people to him. People of all ages receive joy from him and just cling to him, from babies to teenagers to the elderly. he is such a joy to watch and I feel priveledged that I get to share him with the world. <br/>
<br/>
My friend needed his comfort that day more than any comfort I could give her and Isaac was right there for her. <br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Mi21QtXKavw/Tz4ZLcSzeEI/AAAAAAAAA28/gGvUlEMB1XI/1329469731620.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Mi21QtXKavw/Tz4ZLcSzeEI/AAAAAAAAA28/gGvUlEMB1XI/s288/1329469731620.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
My biggest struggle is not with him, it's that I don't stomp out the fire and passion God has given him for life. He runs around at church, but it's because he's saying "hi" to every person in that room. If I had forced him, from the begining, to sit and be "proper" he would never have felt the freedom to express himself to my friend that day. I remember another time, a single mom with 2 kids showed up. She was bear hugging her kids while they were squirming to get down. Isaac was making his usual run-arounds and my husband walked up to her and told her, "you see the little blond haired kid running around? Yeah, that's my son. So don't feel embarassed to let your kids be kids". We have another single mom who's kids were wild six months ago, running up on stage, sitting front and center for attention that they so desperately needed. When they felt the freedom to be themselves and be accepted, they calmed down. Now those kids are angels. You'd never know they had disabilities. I think a large part of that is because the pastor's kid set the example to express yourself and be free. When service starts all the older kids want Isaac to join them in their class. He spreads the love of Christ better than anyone else I know and it's so cool to be a part of. <br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-abHK3r-1IfY/Tz4ZOr2vz8I/AAAAAAAAA3E/q1PAcUz0WZg/1329469755842.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-abHK3r-1IfY/Tz4ZOr2vz8I/AAAAAAAAA3E/q1PAcUz0WZg/s288/1329469755842.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 173px;'/></a><br/><p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'>posted from <a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'>Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-53435612336305584492012-01-03T22:48:00.001-08:002012-01-03T22:48:17.955-08:00The Key to Faith<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><a href='http://fashionablygeek.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/locked-keys-moon.JPG'>http://fashionablygeek.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/locked-keys-moon.JPG</a><br/>
<br/>
So the family and I took our monthly trip to the Tri-Cities today. We stopped in at the mall and grabbed a Starbucks (funny, Starbucks is in my autospeller...anyways...). As I got out of the car, the sun was shining and it was pleasantly nice out so I took my jacket off and in to Starbucks we went. We enjoyed some Yummy warm coffee (white hot cocoa for Ike) and then we were off to our next stop. God had other plans than just Win Co for us though. As I placed my coffee on top if the car, I reached for the keys I unconsciously place in my coat pocket, right side to be exact, every time I get out of the car. But wait! I threw my coat in the back seat to enjoy the weather! Oh no. An S-word came out of my mouth as my son and husband holding hands behind me approached the car. After Cam scolded me for my potty mouth I confessed with a flushed face what I had done. 45 minutes away from home, anyone we know, and a spare key...we tried to figure out our options to unlocking the car. Isaac had fun using the rear window as a slide while hubby called our insurance company to see if we had road side assistance coverage. I could see he was getting frustrated after several loops through the automated message line..."press 1 for English, press 2 for a rep..." When he finally got a hold of a live person he kept repeating everything, "No... CAmerOn...NO C as in Charlie, Alpha, Mary, Echo, Roger, Oscar, Nancy...". I knew we were in real trouble when he started using the same alphabet as the military uses. Then he started to say, "I can't give you my policy number because it's in the glove box which is locked in my car. You want a phone number to verify? You need another phone number to verify? You can't find our policy in your records? Nevermind, thanks anyway for your time. Click". In the meanwhile, I had a monologue going in my head with God. He was telling me just to start asking people for help. One person walked by. I said nothing. A couple walked by. I said nothing. An old man walked by and I finally asked him but he was weird. I had almost given up on myself but God kept pushing it. Another couple walked by and just as they were about to pass me I asked them if they knew how to break into a car. They laughed and said no but the guy was super nice...even tried to unlock our car with his keys - said his Honda used to work with other keys lol. And the lady suggested the mall security. I thanked them as they wished us luck and they drove off. A minute passed and the same couple slowed down as they drove passed us again. Two rows over from where we were was a locksmith's van. She had taken the number down for me and said we might try calling him. I knew at that moment God was looking out for us. He placed that van there just for us. Well okay, not just for us. But isn't it weird that the guy was working in the back of the van when we walked up to it? It looked like Gapetto's workshop with a soft lamp lighting a work area where an older man hunched over his table with a magnifying glasses on his head and his hands working on some delicate project. We knocked on his door and told him what had happened asking if he would be able to help us. He grabbed a couple of tools and walked back over to our car. He was a man of very few words and even fewer smiles. As he worked Isaac crawled to the roof of the car so he could watch his new friend work with these tools he's never seen before. I was worried the man would be annoyed with a two-year-old watching over him but he was very kind to him and even smiled at him. Then maybe a minute later we heard that familiar "click". He picked up his tools and started to walk away as we asked him how much we owed him. He said nothing and kept walking. We thanked him as he still kept walking and by the time Isaac said thank you he had to yell it. We were expecting to pay $40 at least for my stupid mistake but I knew God was going to look after us just like he did two days before Christmas when our car wouldn't start and all we needed was a new battery. <br/>
<br/>
See it doesn't take much to see God if you rely on him for the little things. He was telling me to keep my coat on but I paid no attention to it. And then he was telling me to step out of my comfort zone and rely on strangers to help, which I had a hard time paying attention to. And then he was telling me to be like my son to this kind, but awkward, locksmith and know he wouldn't rip us off. <br/>
<br/>
And it doesn't take much to find the key to faith. It's surrendering to trust in the one who provides.<br/><p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'>posted from <a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'>Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-80826717968547065132011-12-31T20:33:00.001-08:002011-12-31T20:33:58.120-08:00Happy New Year!<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'>Here's this year's pop mashup by DJ Earworm. I always find it fascinating how he does this. I don't, however find the videos fascinating. So close your eyes lol. <br/>
<br/>
<a href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ail7D_k0s9w&feature=youtube_gdata_player'>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ail7D_k0s9w&feature=youtube_gdata_player</a><br/><p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'>posted from <a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'>Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-50959341759981091562011-12-19T23:09:00.001-08:002011-12-19T23:09:08.156-08:00Meaning of Christmas<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'>After a day full of last minute shopping, gift making and no nap, I sit here pondering the true meaning of Christmas. <br/>
<br/>
Last week my hubby got a call from the police department (no he's not in trouble... yet. Haha) who had extra donations after their food drive and wanted to know if we had a family at our church who could use the food. So the whole family took a trip to visit our police friends. Isaac was gifted a police car set and his face just lit up. Then he was greeted by the Chief and was star struck. After we picked up the goodies we drove to a nearby trailer park to drop off them off. This family of 8 live in a single-wide mobile home. The kids have never had a bed of their own their entire life. Their uncle sleeps on the porch in a lazyboy recliner in the summer time so he can have more space. As we dropped of the boxes of food all the kids came out to help and say hi to Ike. You should have seen their faces when we handed them a Costco sized box of Pop Tarts. Just as we were leaving their uncle was walking home. We stopped and said hello and as we were leaving he said, "I love you". I remember when his sister first came to our church. She told me about her disabled brother and that she couldn't bring him to churches because he's never been accepted. She was asked one time to not have her brother come back. And I told her he would be safe and welcomed at this church. He's been coming ever since. I cried when he said "I love you". When he came to our church, he brought a friend, and the first conversation we had was how he was the only person who loved this woman. While that is a huge blessing to be loved by one person, it saddened me that she was alone in this world. They share that common loneliness and feeling of being unaccepted by the world. But they've found their belonging with God and through a church family. And that is why I cried. He only said "I love you" because he knows we love him. It's so easy for me to get caught up in my own vainity sometimes that I forget how truly blessed I am. <br/>
<br/>
Tonight as I took the dog out I heard the church piano playing Christmas music downstairs. At night our basement becomes a homeless shelter for families in the community. We have 5 families staying there tonight. And they are happy in the midst of a crappy situation while I sit next door in my warm home, my Christmas presents waiting to be wrapped and a decorated tree in my living room. What do I have to be unthankful for? What in the world could their possibly be? Christ is the meaning of Christmas and his commandment to love one another is the reason. No gift under the tree could be better than the gift we've already been given? Have you said Merry CHRISTmas to someone yet? All it takes is one act of love to be Jesus on earth. <br/>
<br/>
With all my love, Merry Christmas.<br/><p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'>posted from <a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'>Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-76904222780932160382011-11-28T01:13:00.001-08:002011-11-28T01:13:54.000-08:00American Dream?<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'>As New Years approaches (yes, it's approaching. There may be a 12 step program to help you get out of denial. And by "you" I mean "me". Haha). Anyways, as New Years is approaching I'm starting to think about my goals for my 31st year. I don't like the word "resolutions" but if you want to call it that you can. Resolutions, like most things these days has become commertialized. They consist of loosing weight (to become more like ,not to become healthy...), make more money/save more money (/be more greedy because God forbid we give more money...actually, God very much bids giving), find love (even though we already have it. Just gotta look up.), what else...oh quitting bad habbits (and avoid finding help for the reason behind why those bad habbits exist). Very rarely do I hear truly healthy resolutions. Sure the results can make you more physically healthy, but what are the motives?And here's a bigger idea: how many of these resolutions are God centered? The American Dream looks a lot like a resolution. You're thin, for sure, have money and lots of it...maybe several savings accounts not just one and money coming out your assets, you don't dare have any bad habits, you own a house, you have the fancy new gadgets and your kids are perfect. Here's what my American Dream looks like. I'm so thankful just to have a roof over my head, $20 in my purse for play money for the next two weeks, food in the cupboards. I feel rich to have a smart phone and a car and a t.v. and a bed to sleep on. Friends of mine are sleeping on a futon matress on the floor tonight and there's a 16 year old mom with a 9 month old baby sleeping in her car too afraid to spend the night in a shelter for fear they'd call CPS to take her baby away. There are people right next door to my house in the basement of our church who are homeless. My American Dream might not be much but it's certainly God seeking and I am rich. I'm concerned that it will be harder for me to get to heaven than for that camel to go through the eye of a needle.<br/>
<br/>
My husband and I had a discussion about soluting the American flag. Honestly I have a hard time. For me the government is ran by people who are bought by other people living "the American Dream" and are certainly not my voice. I'm dissapoitned in my countrymen. As priveleged as we are to be living in America I think we do a real shotty job of taking care of eachother. So my American Dream has nothing to do with America. And it certainly has nothing to do with money or looks. There's a reason the bible says you can't serve two masters, both God and money. By "money" did he mean the "devil"?<br/>
<br/>
So after all this babble you're probably wondering what my New Years goal is?Give more. Love more. Be self less.<br/>
<br/>
So wanna see something cute?<br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Su0FR5Dq7o0/TtNQxdBg24I/AAAAAAAAA2M/feHH5iJKzQA/1322471622415.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Su0FR5Dq7o0/TtNQxdBg24I/AAAAAAAAA2M/feHH5iJKzQA/s288/1322471622415.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
That's my American Dream<br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-X17_9cm6NxU/TtNQ0G6c49I/AAAAAAAAA2U/-vqfM98U0so/1322471636167.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-X17_9cm6NxU/TtNQ0G6c49I/AAAAAAAAA2U/-vqfM98U0so/s288/1322471636167.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
And so is that.<br/>
<br/>
Amen?<br/><p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'>posted from <a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'>Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-53428437936957184882011-11-26T09:25:00.001-08:002011-11-26T09:25:40.502-08:00Thanksgiving<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'>There are many things to be thankful for any day of the year. Thanksgiving responses of thankfulness bring out thanks for family, friends, God, salvation. Etc. But today I'm thankful for the little things. <br/>
<br/>
My son was sick last week and my prayer was, "Lord, please keep me from being sick for Thanksgiving. I already don't get to enjoy the traditional food rituals packed full of yummy gluten because of this new dietary restriction (more like jail) so please let me feel good. Amen". It was a selfish prayer. I know. But God wants to fulfill the desires of our heart. This I really know. And God answered my prayer. The day after Thanksgiving I started to feel my sinuses fill up and a chestal cough rise up making me sound like a 90-year-old chain smoker. So today as I blow my nose and become miss-coughs-a-lot I am reminded of my answered prayer and how truly thankful I am for a God who answers me when I call. <br/>
<br/>
On to this gluten free thing...I could choose to be bitter over this new change in life-style. It really is a change in my life. I can't eat out easily anymore, or participate in my great grandmother-in-laws cherry pie. But I have a supportive, encouraging family and wisdom from others who live this life-style. They tried every gluten free item I baked and lifted me up for the good job I did *eh hem*. I get to try new recipes and use the gluten free diet change as an excuse to get those big ticket applyances I've been wanting for years (like a kitchenaid mixer, new bread machine and a vitamix Haha) because now I must become a bakery owner. We live on a very limited income and I could chose to be depressed over the cost of gluten free cooking as one loaf of bread is $5. But my frugality insticts tell me there's other solutions. I could chose to be bitter over the 4 batches of pie crust I threw out to get to the one gluten free pie that was worth eating...barely...or I could chose to be thankful for being able to eat and not starve like many people across the world do on a daily basis including holidays. <br/>
<br/>
So today I'm thankful for the small things which I could easily be just as bitter for. Chosing to see the glass more full than empty is a daily experience for me. Without God my glass would be empty but He fills my cup up daily. <br/>
<br/>
Thank you for you God.<br/><p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'>posted from <a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'>Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-5680371198021017152011-11-22T23:30:00.001-08:002011-11-22T23:30:15.651-08:00Remember me?<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'>Well I've been quiet lately. (which is very unusual for me). We went to the Casting Crown's concert <br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-hydcg0GHmoo/TsyffPIY99I/AAAAAAAAA0U/5pXXbk0_JBQ/1322033033156.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-hydcg0GHmoo/TsyffPIY99I/AAAAAAAAA0U/5pXXbk0_JBQ/s288/1322033033156.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
(That was the best pic we got lol)<br/>
<br/>
The next week we were in Levenworth<br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-v5veFFEifJo/TsyfoHKbNoI/AAAAAAAAA0c/S1rP6ZBaphc/1322033035440.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-v5veFFEifJo/TsyfoHKbNoI/AAAAAAAAA0c/S1rP6ZBaphc/s288/1322033035440.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 173px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-G0WUL2AuAas/Tsyf1bVIc9I/AAAAAAAAA0k/hvw8enl4hqs/1322033071892.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-G0WUL2AuAas/Tsyf1bVIc9I/AAAAAAAAA0k/hvw8enl4hqs/s288/1322033071892.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Va0z0OHjcgM/Tsyf_q8fUNI/AAAAAAAAA0s/U9LPf_0f6KA/1322033125300.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Va0z0OHjcgM/Tsyf_q8fUNI/AAAAAAAAA0s/U9LPf_0f6KA/s288/1322033125300.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
The next week was Halloween<br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-eqyRSpkZqg8/TsygHctM38I/AAAAAAAAA00/vrr6u1moJqw/1322033166420.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-eqyRSpkZqg8/TsygHctM38I/AAAAAAAAA00/vrr6u1moJqw/s288/1322033166420.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-LPCvapuoaD0/TsygReEyCsI/AAAAAAAAA08/MxEG4ulj9-4/1322033196972.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-LPCvapuoaD0/TsygReEyCsI/AAAAAAAAA08/MxEG4ulj9-4/s288/1322033196972.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-UhlrpURkSis/Tsygb6qyeTI/AAAAAAAAA1E/s5tvgn6ZvRc/1322033236961.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-UhlrpURkSis/Tsygb6qyeTI/AAAAAAAAA1E/s5tvgn6ZvRc/s288/1322033236961.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
I've been making applesauce for a month now, not to mention pumpkin butter and now gluten free recipes (more about that on another post another day)<br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-gqqtKEv3k6E/TsygmX4liLI/AAAAAAAAA1M/VbMx0cktm64/1322033279181.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-gqqtKEv3k6E/TsygmX4liLI/AAAAAAAAA1M/VbMx0cktm64/s288/1322033279181.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-BaaEEvgDal0/TsyguuaRtYI/AAAAAAAAA1U/R2P_IvAa_fI/1322033320618.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-BaaEEvgDal0/TsyguuaRtYI/AAAAAAAAA1U/R2P_IvAa_fI/s288/1322033320618.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 173px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
And it's Thanksgiving already?! Holy time flies Batman! If I blink it'll be Christmas! It's already snowed<br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-a4tcQkKqFGM/Tsyg0h24rDI/AAAAAAAAA1c/tsbzb-RHadY/1322033353910.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-a4tcQkKqFGM/Tsyg0h24rDI/AAAAAAAAA1c/tsbzb-RHadY/s288/1322033353910.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
Isaac woke up that morning and said, "Daddy! You made it snow! Good job daddy." Ah that kid melts my heart. And he loves his Daddy<br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ZMxS6VwX4TI/Tsyg5VUy4aI/AAAAAAAAA1k/5gAjchIpIYo/1322033378179.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ZMxS6VwX4TI/Tsyg5VUy4aI/AAAAAAAAA1k/5gAjchIpIYo/s288/1322033378179.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5pwMQaubdGU/Tsyg9fiBrSI/AAAAAAAAA1s/P_dSg1UH5nU/1322033396682.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5pwMQaubdGU/Tsyg9fiBrSI/AAAAAAAAA1s/P_dSg1UH5nU/s288/1322033396682.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
<a href='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xqbYKoD1NL8/TsyhBVW5u_I/AAAAAAAAA10/3ejQFEE5ekg/1322033413070.jpeg' onblur='try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}'><img border='0' src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xqbYKoD1NL8/TsyhBVW5u_I/AAAAAAAAA10/3ejQFEE5ekg/s288/1322033413070.jpeg' style='display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 288px;'/></a><br/>
<br/>
I love his daddy too. He took me to see Breaking Dawn tonight. What a man I tell you!<br/>
<br/>
How are you doing?<br/><p style='font-size: xx-small' align='right'>posted from <a href='https://market.android.com/details?id=pl.przemelek.android.blogger'>Bloggeroid</a></p></div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-11565868838948152242011-07-20T10:11:00.001-07:002011-07-20T10:32:10.392-07:00Tractor Tippin' and soreness<div><p>You need to know first that my son has to watch Cars now at least one time a day.  </p>
<p>Ok...You know when you aren't looking and then all of a sudden the door frame closes in on you, knocks you on the head and throws you to the ground?  Well it just happened to my 2 year old son.  </p>
<p>He immediately felt the bump on his head.  After picking him up he looks straight at me...stops crying long enough...and says, "Tractor Tippin'."  </p>
<p>I about died laughing.</p>
<p>On another note.  I'm very sore from my workout yesterday.  Here's some motivation to keep me going today:  </p>
<p>"pain is weakness leaving your body"</p>
</div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-639108310169322652011-07-19T21:21:00.000-07:002011-07-19T21:57:55.100-07:00Live Fat FreeSo my husband and I have been saying for <i>YEARS</i> that we should purchase a gaming system. But we just couldn't justify spending tons of money on one. "Couldn't" as in past tense. Yesterday we WERE able to justify it...when we said, "we'd spend the money on a gym membership in one month anyway." We had our eyes on the PS3 but then decided to go with the Wii. We can get all the games we like from PS3 through the Wii plus the fitness games we want. <div><br /></div><div>Here's the thing: My son is two and then some...and I still have not lost my baby fat...nor my pre baby fat, nor my freshmen (sophomore, junior, senior) 15, nor the pounds I gained after marriage. LOL. Are you with me? I've got some weight to loose. I'm not going to tell you how much, because my goal isn't to loose the pounds, my goal is to be healthy (I'm not even going to weigh myself). I'm a fairly healthy person food wise. I just hate working out. I get way too bored. Unless it's for sports. But you throw a video game in front of me? I could do that. (My dad owned a video arcade my entire child hood...yes I'm straight out of the 80's). So we got Wii Active II. And tomorrow we're getting Wii Fitness Plus and Zumba. I figure that will give us enough diversity so as to not get bored. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here's the other thing: Now my husband and I can work out at home while the boy naps. I don't have to go anywhere! (And I'm not tempted to pick up that ice cold frap on the way home from the gym.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I'd like to see what life feels like without the extra pounds. I know I'll have more energy. And if I plan on having more kiddo's I'm going to need it because Ike wears me out as it is! </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm going to blog about my journey so you can keep me accountable. I also have some other goals for a healthy life. Like at least once a week I need to do something creative for me and cook something using all organic and/or whole foods (I'm going to try home made bread next week). Because being healthy isn't just about weight, it's about the mind too. I certainly don't want my child to grow up with my self-esteem. It's time for a change. </div><div><br /></div><div>So here's to being fat free?! Would you care to join me? </div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-42875021815821425722011-06-19T12:21:00.001-07:002011-06-19T12:21:02.211-07:00Happy Father's Day!<a href='http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?desktop_uri=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DhtgPh3DalmM%26feature%3Dyoutu.be&feature=youtu.be&v=htgPh3DalmM&gl=US'>http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?desktop_uri=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DhtgPh3DalmM%26feature%3Dyoutu.be&feature=youtu.be&v=htgPh3DalmM&gl=US</a><div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.1</div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-893531237729305152011-06-17T12:55:00.001-07:002011-06-17T12:55:01.441-07:00I was just dated...<p><a href='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-X-pFujl7Qmo/TfuxDQd82II/AAAAAAAAAyQ/b3lIE-ig_w0/IMAG0035.jpg'><img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-X-pFujl7Qmo/TfuxDQd82II/AAAAAAAAAyQ/b3lIE-ig_w0/s400/IMAG0035.jpg' /></a></p>My son found my old box of Barbies. He recognized one of them. Without knowing it...he just dated the age of his mom. Yup...I'm officially "old school". Thanks Toy Story 3. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.1</div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-44858477111411618422011-06-10T22:49:00.001-07:002011-06-10T22:49:20.136-07:00Small Town Pastoring<a href='http://www.churchplanting.com/2011/06/06/3-things-i-have-learned-about-small-towns-and-hard-to-reach-places/'>http://www.churchplanting.com/2011/06/06/3-things-i-have-learned-about-small-towns-and-hard-to-reach-places/</a><div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.0</div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-44449755414607696672011-06-10T21:23:00.001-07:002011-06-10T21:23:42.524-07:00Breaking Dawn!Okay...I can't figure out how to embed the you tube video but the new Twilight Series, Breaking Dawn part 1 movie trailer is out. I'm a little sad I didn't see any feathers in the "chicken coup" during the honeymoon clip. But I still got my Twilight (goose) bumps going! Yay!!! <br/> <br/> Anyone else so stinking excited? Time to read the books...again :)<div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.0</div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-12298360130307044732011-06-06T10:28:00.001-07:002011-06-06T10:28:51.312-07:00High!<p><a href='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-8akJjrCGsBA/Te0OULDsguI/AAAAAAAAAyM/TESUYnYvptM/IMAG0008.jpg'><img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-8akJjrCGsBA/Te0OULDsguI/AAAAAAAAAyM/TESUYnYvptM/s400/IMAG0008.jpg' /></a></p>Heals. <br/> <br/> <br/> LOL. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.0</div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-33410002999743710872011-06-01T11:27:00.001-07:002011-06-01T11:27:20.601-07:00Success!<p><a href='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-tK8Idh_tyFE/TeaEhtk3vmI/AAAAAAAAAyI/FZ_M-EQPBPQ/IMAG1185.jpg'><img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-tK8Idh_tyFE/TeaEhtk3vmI/AAAAAAAAAyI/FZ_M-EQPBPQ/s400/IMAG1185.jpg' /></a></p>Do you see?! Dog went potty on the puppy pad (we won't count the slight miss), and Isaac is going on the potty! This is a good day. Lol. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.9</div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-8107423336042938902011-06-01T10:06:00.001-07:002011-06-01T10:06:18.408-07:00Blog re-post: Sunnyside needs a conversation on both problems and solutions.<a href='http://blogsunnyside.com/2011/05/31/sunnyside-needs-a-conversation-on-both-problems-and-solutions/'>BLOGSUNNYSIDE</a><div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.9</div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1922946660785661495.post-55805990179872614522011-05-30T19:57:00.001-07:002011-05-30T19:57:27.274-07:00Blog re-post: Get off your @$$!<a href='http://www.ragamuffinsoul.com/2011/05/getoffyour/'>Get Off Your… | Ragamuffin Soul</a><div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.9</div>Woman of Many Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14447114152328523866noreply@blogger.com0