tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26967301481880524692024-02-01T23:16:57.049-06:00Life is meant to be enjoyed, not endured.Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-79812794960272822462015-06-11T16:07:00.002-05:002015-06-11T16:07:58.650-05:00A turtle's role in building a beautiful life A few weeks ago, I saw a beautiful thing. <br />
<br />
I was heading east on one of the main arteries of our town when I saw a turtle making its treacherous journey across traffic. I was relieved as every passerby swerved around the little guy in attempts not to crush him. It was human kindness in action...<br />
<br />
...but then I saw a different, more fulfilling, more beautiful type of kindness at play. A black truck with those ridiculously sized wheels approached and merged into the center lane as the emergency flashers began to blink. A big burly man in a cut-off tee and converse shoes jumps out, darts across the street, picks up the fierce, yet slow traveler, and delivers him to safety. My heart cheered as my jaw dropped and I literally exclaimed, "<em>He has to be a dad</em>!"<br />
<br />
I didn't pass too many blocks ahead before I began questioning my own assumptions about the turtle hero. Maybe he was a dad, but maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was just a turtle lover, or an animal rights activists, or a religious man who places a high value on all life. Or, maybe he was just an average, ordinary guy who chooses to live a beautiful life, and live it well. I'd like to think of him as the later.<br />
<br />
I'd venture to imagine that this man isn't too caught up in the grand scheme of life that he often ignores the glorious details. I might even guess he isn't driven by a harsh schedule or the demands of his dashboard clock. He probably isn't enslaved by the opinions or perceptions of others, and he probably embodies the qualities of a valiant warrior. <br />
<br />
Yes, sure, I'll admit, I'm praising a man I've never met. He could be the dirtiest, most self-absorbed and disillusioning person in town, but he had to be motivated by some intrinsic driving force, and I wouldn't instantly suspect foul play or selfishness as the driver. <br />
<br />
The whole scenario stayed with me longer than most day-to-day happenings, and honestly, it has motivated me to continue my quest in building a beautiful life. I've previously shared similar thoughts and inspirations, and as I reread them today, I'm reminded that life isn't something to be conquered in a day. An extraordinary life isn't built overnight, but rather slowly, one choice at a time. How hopeful! <br />
<br />
I don't always choose well, but as long as I continue to breathe, I am simultaneously afforded the opportunity to choose better. The same is true for you. Extend some grace towards yourself, and run like wild towards a happy life. It's out there, and it's yours for the taking. <br />
<br />
Cheers!Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-25523212253341753192015-05-17T21:12:00.002-05:002015-05-17T21:12:41.064-05:00I'm breaking up with social media<em>Might sound crazy but it ain't no lie, baby, bye bye bye (bye bye!)</em><br />
<em></em><br />
I know I'm not the only one who sorts out life with a little help from 90's boy bands. It's okay to admit it- you liked 'n Sync, too, and now you're singing the jam right along with me. You're welcome for that free Sunday sing. :)<br />
<br />
I'm not all that much into dramatic build-ups, so I'm going to cut to the chase, though you may have already guessed where this is going. <br />
<br />
I'm breaking up with Facebook. Gulp! Gasp! Sigh! <br />
<br />
I like Facebook. <br />
<br />
I like the people who I share Facebook cyberspace with. <br />
<br />
I like to write on your wall without being ticketed for graffiti. <br />
<br />
I like the concept of social media. <br />
<br />
But I <em>don't </em>like the places it takes me.<br />
<br />
You've read those threads. The ones where common sense and kindness aren't so common. The ones where judgment is cast so quickly and blame is diverted fifteen million different times. It pulls my baffled mind in like a bear trap, and I log out feeling disappointed in humanity.<br />
<br />
There's other threads, too. The posts that paint a beautiful, one-sided picture of a reality that just isn't. Or the status updates that leave a proverbial line in the sand and you're forced to choose a captain and a jersey. The comments that call for all things good and holy, but promise eternal damnation if you don't mass share in the next five seconds. Those fight for my attention and energy, and I don't have much extra to spend, yet I lie in bed at night and scroll through the nonsense until my eyes burn. And then, sometimes, I scroll some more. <br />
<br />
And then, then there's me. My life. My pictures. My family. My friends. My battles. My shares. Somehow, someway, I've fallen to this warped idea that I can glean validation, strength, honor, encouragement, empathy, and love from an online community of people with their own lives, pictures, families, friends, and shares. I've inadvertently given you an identity-shaping responsibility that you were never meant to carry, much less able to provide.<br />
<br />
Life is crazy big, and it's crazy good, but it's also really, really messy. Kind of like finger-painting with a toddler...or eating fried rice with chop sticks...or bathing my Sheepdog after she's rolled around in the mud.<br />
<br />
So sometimes, it's alluring to post the struggles when I'm alone in the fight and wait expectantly for your encouragement, as if I'm relying on the world wide web for strength or resolve. You people, as good and as grand as you are (and you really, really are) weren't designed to be my counselors or comforters or guides. This is really good news for you, because as life unfolds and demands wisdom beyond my years, I seem to need a <em>lot</em> of counseling. <br />
<br />
By the same flip of the coin, it's super tempting for me to post pictures of joy and gladness and victory and wait like an anxious little kid in a candy store for your comments and likes when I could be soaking in joy and gladness and victory with the people that surround me on this side of the computer screen. It has become second nature to me to reach for my phone when somebody says something hilarious. That's all fine and good, but I think it's time that I start relishing in those funny moments and celebrating with a good belly laugh rather than playing the part of a narrator for an audience that may not always understand the humor. <br />
<br />
Hear me; I'm not breaking up with you. I'm breaking up with the Mark Zuckerberg version of you. I'm going to use all my new found free time to write more, to love more, and to communicate "for real," so follow my blog, shoot me a text, or show up on my front door step. I keep a healthy stock of peanut butter and decaffeinated coffee, so at worst, we could sip on a cup of joe and marvel at my adorable four-legged kids. <br />
<br />
Thankfully, I haven't figured out how to permanently delete a Facebook account, so when curiosity overwhelms me, I promise to stop by and say hello. I can also promise I'll feel the overwhelming urge to post a bunch of cute pictures of all things happy, so prepare yourselves for imagery overload every now and again. <br />
<br />
Finally, if you want to do something really impactful, keep me in your prayers, even when you don't see the daily tidbits of the Lindsay life. If you need a few ideas, I might recommend the following:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Pray for the approximately three pounds of gray matter located between my two ears. Pray that it continues to do all the things brains should do, and nothing that it should not. </li>
<li>If you're going to pray for my thinker, go ahead and pray for the rest of my shell, too. I'll fly to Denver in July to see the specialized spine surgeon. Pray he has a plethora of answers, none of which include surgical intervention. Pray that my blood starts looking like blood is supposed to look underneath a microscope, and pray that I don't run out in the mean time. Hahaha. Okay, maybe that was at least a little dramatic. </li>
<li>Pray for my future. I don't know what my family portrait will look like in five years, or even in one, but I'm trusting He who does. He's given me a heart to love discarded, broken, and beautiful children. I'm only about three toe dips into the waters of that journey, and it is absolutely, hands down, the hardest thing I've ever done. Loving these babies (of all ages) requires an absurd amount of bravery and unwavering confidence in the character of God. Pray that I love these children well and point them to Jesus, regardless of what official title I'm ever given. </li>
<li>Pray for the business. We're growing and evolving at an exceptionally exciting pace, and it is beyond all we ever dreamed. Pray for my daddio, my grandfather, and I to lead well. Pray that we'll have the wisdom to navigate the mountaintops and the valleys low. Pray that our contractor finishes the second office bathroom quickly, and by all means, pray I don't have a nervous breakdown as we navigate the busy season OR another hospital admission twenty-four hours before one of our big events. My employees covet your fervent prayers over those last two. :)</li>
<li>Finally, pray that God continues to center my often joyous, yet sometimes frightened little heart. In the middle of, and despite it all, I just want to love Him and be loved by Him. Simply, fully, and down to my core, I want to stay "all in." </li>
</ul>
Until our next chat,<br />
LindsayLindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-36852771040505601772015-04-27T17:22:00.000-05:002015-04-27T17:23:06.275-05:00Convicting creatures If you've ever spent any time with a child, it comes as no surprise to you when I say they can be convicting creatures.<br />
<br />
"Go pick your shoes and socks up off the floor."<br />
<br />
"You forgot to use your manner words?!"<br />
<br />
"I did, you're right. Go pick your shoes and socks up off the floor, <u>please.</u>"<br />
<br />
Then there's the moment when you drop a glass cup on the tile floor, sending shards of glass and streams of water e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e...<br />
<br />
"*&^%!," exclaimed ever so softly, with a firm hope nobody caught that outburst of frustration...<br />
<br />
"Neanea! Remember to only use <u>nice</u> words, even when you're made or sad."<br />
<br />
Fifteen more explicative words roll across my mind as I reconsider a less stringent "nice word" policy and simultaneously confess, "You're right. I should try really hard to use nice words, even when I'm upset. I'm sorry I said that."<br />
<br />
Least I forget those nights when I'm worn out from cooking a healthy meal and juggling life and I'd desperately like to substitute my own protein and vegetables for a cup of coffee and a tablespoon of peanut butter...<br />
<br />
"Ummm, <u>remember Neanea</u>, if you don't eat a good dinner, you won't grow to be big and healthy and strong and I want you to be healthy with me forever!" <br />
<br />
"You're right, let's eat together," I say as I roll my eyes with resignation and wonder how kids can possibly be so *&^% observant. There went the "nice word" policy for the tenth time today.<br />
<br />
Being an appropriate role model and trying to instill values in children is so much easier said than done. I <em>really</em> wish I could live by the, "Do as I say, not as I do" conviction, but I'm afraid it doesn't cut the mustard... at least not with the kids I'm blessed to be around. I'm convinced kiddos either make you better, or they make you bitter, and I want to be classified with the later group.<br />
<br />
Friday night, I had a seven year old with an upset tummy. He was in tears, and I tried every desperate trick in the book to relieve his pain. It finally occurred to me that we should pray. Now, don't imagine me with a gold crown yet, because I have to be painfully honest... I wasn't exactly praying because I had the faith to move mountains in that moment, but because I've taught him that we can and should talk to God about everything. The "everything" on Friday night happened to be an offer of prayer for his tummy troubles, because that was the "right" thing to do. <br />
<br />
We prayed and continued our snuggles, and it wasn't five minutes later that the crying subsided and little man pipes up, "Well! It looks like our prayers worked. My tummy feels better. I think I can go to bed now." Just like that, very matter-of-fact, as if I should have expected any other result, the seven year old recognized the God of his moment, and I recognized the shortcomings of mine. <br />
<br />
Kids are convicting creatures.<br />
<br />
I don't know what it is that keeps kids so genuine, so tender-hearted, and so true, but it inspires me. Obviously, it inspired Jesus, too:<br />
<br />
<em>At that time, the disciples came to Jesus and said, "Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" And He called a child to Himself and set him before them, and said, "Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. "Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."</em> <br />
Matthew 18: 1-4<br />
<br />
I need that, you know? I need that child-like, humble faith that believes God for the mountains <em>and</em> the mole hills; the impossible <em>and</em> the insignificant; the Friday nights <em>and</em> the Sunday mornings. <br />
<br />
The past four weeks I've seen trials and tribulations in my life and the lives of those around me. Collectively, we've tasted death and sickness and addiction and brokenness. We've walked lonely and seemingly devastating paths. We've cried out to God for answers, and we've pleaded with God for mercy. Friday night was a reminder that He sees all of it- not one minute of one day has escaped Him the last month. He's not surprised or caught off guard or taking the summer off. <br />
<br />
<strong>We matter to Him. Our families matter to Him. Our hearts matter to Him.</strong> And despite all of our shortcomings and frailty, He invites us to His lap. Just like the boy so many years ago, we can sit on His lap, in the arms of our oh-so-good Daddy God. The "becoming" child in me accepts His invitation. <br />
<br />
Thank you, God, for those convicting creatures you've filled my life with. <br />
<br />
Psalm 34<br />
<em>I will <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14390A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14390A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup>bless the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> at all times;<br /><span class="text Ps-34-1">His <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14390B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14390B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup>praise shall continually be in my mouth.</span></em><span style="font-size: small;"><em><span class="text Ps-34-2" id="en-NASB-14391"><sup class="versenum">2 </sup>My soul will <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14391C" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14391C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup>make its boast in the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>;</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-2">The <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14391D" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14391D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></sup>humble will hear it and rejoice.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-3" id="en-NASB-14392"><sup class="versenum">3 </sup>O <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14392E" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14392E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></sup>magnify the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> with me,</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-3">And let us <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14392F" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14392F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)"></sup>exalt His name together.</span></em></span><br />
<div class="line">
<span style="font-size: small;"><em><span class="text Ps-34-4" id="en-NASB-14393"><sup class="versenum">4 </sup>I <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14393G" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14393G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></sup>sought the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, and He answered me,</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-4">And <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14393H" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14393H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)"></sup>delivered me from all my fears.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-5" id="en-NASB-14394"><sup class="versenum">5 </sup>They <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14394I" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14394I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)"></sup>looked to Him and were radiant,</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-5">And their faces will <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14394J" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14394J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)"></sup>never be ashamed.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-6" id="en-NASB-14395"><sup class="versenum">6 </sup>This poor man cried, and <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14395K" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14395K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)"></sup>the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> heard him</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-6">And saved him out of all his troubles.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-7" id="en-NASB-14396"><sup class="versenum">7 </sup>The <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14396L" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14396L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></sup>angel of the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> encamps around those who fear Him,</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-7">And rescues them.</span></em></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span style="font-size: small;"><em><span class="text Ps-34-8" id="en-NASB-14397"><sup class="versenum">8 </sup>O <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14397M" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14397M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)"></sup>taste and see that the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> is good;</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-8">How <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14397N" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14397N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)"></sup>blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-9" id="en-NASB-14398"><sup class="versenum">9 </sup>O fear the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, you <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14398O" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14398O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)"></sup>His saints;</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-9">For to those who fear Him there is <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14398P" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14398P" title="See cross-reference P">P</a>)"></sup>no want.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-10" id="en-NASB-14399"><sup class="versenum">10 </sup>The young lions do lack and suffer hunger;</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-10">But they who seek the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> shall <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14399Q" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14399Q" title="See cross-reference Q">Q</a>)"></sup>not be in want of any good thing.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-11" id="en-NASB-14400"><sup class="versenum">11 </sup><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14400R" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14400R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)"></sup>Come, you children, listen to me;</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-11"><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14400S" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14400S" title="See cross-reference S">S</a>)"></sup>I will teach you <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14400T" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14400T" title="See cross-reference T">T</a>)"></sup>the fear of the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-12" id="en-NASB-14401"><sup class="versenum">12 </sup><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14401U" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14401U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)"></sup>Who is the man who desires life</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-12">And loves length of days that he may <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14401V" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14401V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)"></sup>see good?</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-13" id="en-NASB-14402"><sup class="versenum">13 </sup>Keep <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14402W" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14402W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)"></sup>your tongue from evil</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-13">And your lips from speaking <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14402X" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14402X" title="See cross-reference X">X</a>)"></sup>deceit.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-14" id="en-NASB-14403"><sup class="versenum">14 </sup><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14403Y" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14403Y" title="See cross-reference Y">Y</a>)"></sup>Depart from evil and do good;</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-14">Seek peace and <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14403Z" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14403Z" title="See cross-reference Z">Z</a>)"></sup>pursue it.</span></em></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span style="font-size: small;"><em><span class="text Ps-34-15" id="en-NASB-14404"><sup class="versenum">15 </sup>The <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14404AA" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14404AA" title="See cross-reference AA">AA</a>)"></sup>eyes of the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> are toward the righteous</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-15">And His ears are open to their cry.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-16" id="en-NASB-14405"><sup class="versenum">16 </sup>The <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14405AB" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14405AB" title="See cross-reference AB">AB</a>)"></sup>face of the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> is against evildoers,</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-16">To <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14405AC" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14405AC" title="See cross-reference AC">AC</a>)"></sup>cut off the memory of them from the earth.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-17" id="en-NASB-14406"><sup class="versenum">17 </sup>The righteous <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14406AD" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14406AD" title="See cross-reference AD">AD</a>)"></sup>cry, and the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> hears</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-17">And delivers them out of all their troubles.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-18" id="en-NASB-14407"><sup class="versenum">18 </sup>The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14407AE" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14407AE" title="See cross-reference AE">AE</a>)"></sup>is near to the <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14407AF" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14407AF" title="See cross-reference AF">AF</a>)"></sup>brokenhearted</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-18">And saves those who are crushed in spirit.</span></em></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span style="font-size: small;"><em><span class="text Ps-34-19" id="en-NASB-14408"><sup class="versenum">19 </sup><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14408AH" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14408AH" title="See cross-reference AH">AH</a>)"></sup>Many are the <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14408AI" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14408AI" title="See cross-reference AI">AI</a>)"></sup>afflictions of the righteous,</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-19">But the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14408AJ" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14408AJ" title="See cross-reference AJ">AJ</a>)"></sup>delivers him out of them all.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-20" id="en-NASB-14409"><sup class="versenum">20 </sup>He keeps all his bones,</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-20"><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14409AK" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14409AK" title="See cross-reference AK">AK</a>)"></sup>Not one of them is broken.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-21" id="en-NASB-14410"><sup class="versenum">21 </sup><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14410AL" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14410AL" title="See cross-reference AL">AL</a>)"></sup>Evil shall slay the wicked,</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-21">And those who hate the righteous will be condemned.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-22" id="en-NASB-14411"><sup class="versenum">22 </sup>The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14411AM" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14411AM" title="See cross-reference AM">AM</a>)"></sup>redeems the soul of His servants,</span><br /><span class="text Ps-34-22">And none of those who <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14411AN" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14411AN" title="See cross-reference AN">AN</a>)"></sup>take refuge in Him will be condemned.</span></em></span></div>
Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-29826586556105828542015-04-16T14:33:00.000-05:002015-04-16T14:33:50.241-05:00Life happens todayThe timeline of life is sometimes a thing to be grasped. We're born, we grow up, and we cease to be. For most, that progression occurs over decades; for others, that time is seemingly too short. Yet, no matter the lifespan of any one individual, we all share the common thread of time. Twenty-four hours in a day, seven days in a week, and three hundred and sixty-five days in a year. How is it, then, that a month or a year can pass us by so quickly? How many times have you asked, "Where has the time gone?"<br />
<br />
The answer is simple. Life happens, time passes, in the moments. It is in the mundane and the extraordinary, the quiet and the chaotic, the sweet and the sorrowful that our life unfolds. I think if we could truly frame each moment of our day as worthwhile, we might live out our days differently. <br />
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I've been wresting this concept for weeks. Often times I get too carried away by the items on my agenda and the demands of life that I neglect the art of living and the blessing of being alive. I navigate through the week by going and doing and completing and achieving and acting and intervening, and then meet the weekend with a sense of exhaustion and dread. Monday always rolls back around and I often feel as though I've depleted all my energy, but incurred no substantial gains. It's an endless, vicious cycle, and I found I had to deal with it before it wasted me.<br />
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Somehow, I feel like I'm not alone. The advertisement industry has made billions from our "Western way of life." Just yesterday I was half listening to a commercial promising to eliminate the stress of preparing dinner with one simple meal gadget. "Feed your family, fast, with this new thingy-ma-bob, and you'll have extra time to spend on those <em>more</em> <em>important things</em> that lack." It struck me wrong. I wrote a college essay once about the importance of the family dinner table, and my opinion hasn't waivered; husbands and wives and moms and dads and kids need to eat at least one meal together each day, period. Why is it that American families allow themselves to become so pressed for time that "more important things" trump honest communion with the ones we love? What is that thing that steals your moments? <br />
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You must understand my intentions; I'm not attacking busy lifestyles...I live one. I simply think we're losing so much life and vitality in between the pages of our day timers. I think our love, drive, and service are misguided. I think it's okay to admit that we can't do it all. I think we need to give ourselves permission to thrive instead of merely navigating through life in survival mode. <br />
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To help manage the juggle, I've implemented a few "house rules," which I gleaned from Kerri Weems book <u>Rhythms of Grace</u>. For the record, it's totally worth the read.<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>I disable the e-mail on my phone when I'm done working for the day. Our business is across several time zones, so cutting everyone off at 5pm central isn't exactly feasible; however, putting a start and stop time on my e-mail responses has freed up more of my evenings</li>
<li>I set daily goals- not unrealistic goals or a rigid to-do list, but a manageable list of things I'd like to accomplish. This keeps me focused while simultaneously freeing me from the from the relentless striving with which I'm too familiar. Once I've tackled everything on the list, I allow myself to relax instead of forcing myself to get ahead. I think it's also worth mentioning that I list a bedtime as the "end all" goal of the day. Whatever doesn't get finished gets rearranged, and I still get sleep. It's a beautiful setup.</li>
<li>I <u><strong>try</strong></u> to set aside one day where I don't have any goals. It's called "rest," and I think God had it right when He took a day off. If we're being honest, this whole concept intimidates me greatly, and it's still very much "in process," but I'm gravitating more towards it everyday. I can say with complete assurance that I don't regret a single day I've taken to rest, or at least not in retrospect. It's hard to say no. It's hard to be still. It's hard not to feel wasteful while sitting on the front porch soaking in sunshine and reading a good book, but it's redemptive, energizing, and restorative to my often times overwhelmed heart.</li>
</ol>
Life is a gamble, folks, and time is our great wager. May you and I play our cards well.<br />
<br />
Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-40735531385534778392015-04-07T14:55:00.000-05:002015-04-07T14:55:53.511-05:00An every day EasterEaster is over. <br />
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Jesus has risen.<br />
<br />
The kids are hyped up on sugar.<br />
<br />
You survived one more holiday meal with the in-laws.<br />
<br />
Now what?<br />
<br />
I'll be honest, this particular post has been a tricky one. It started days ago, and after several revisions and real life moments, I'm starting over. Primarily because this Easter changed me; it's been the most impactful and relevant Easter of my twenty-something years, for a host of reasons still too precious to share. Still yet, this blog draws transparency out of me like a salve.<br />
<br />
Eight days ago, I began to frame my week with a mindset of "Easter actually." I yearned to move beyond the typical, dearly held religious traditions and into something deeper. Something real. Something personal. Something that extends beyond Lent and Passover and Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. My honest longings brought me to a place of examination. I began to weigh the delicate balance between the crucifixion and the Easter Bunny, and I pondered how to address it in my home. I read these flagrant articles about the woes of pagan traditions, and then decided maybe the religious dogma wasn't for my family. I've seen lots of artistic interpretations of Jesus and children, and not one of them gave me the impression that Jesus was the anti-joy, anti-egg-hunt type of guy. I just about had it all figured out when I decided maybe I was wrong. Too irreverent. Too laissez-faire. Too simple in my appreciation of the risen Savior.<br />
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So day by day, I sat quietly and waited. I soaked in the Easter story over and over and over. I wept over its implications. I basked in moments far too grand for words. And on Thursday, when the revolving door of children started its spin, I didn't have a clue how to handle things, but I had peace. We studied together; we talked together; and we dyed eggs together. We made cookies for the Easter Bunny. We opted to do a balloon release so Jesus would receive our "thank you" letters all the way up in heaven. We did church in the park. Still yet, I still doubted myself. I doubted my methods. I doubted the vastness of God to overcome any of my well-intended shortcomings...<br />
<br />
...and then God stepped in.<br />
<br />
I was doing a few dishes Sunday afternoon and the house was relatively calm, all things considered, when a precious seven year old boy wrapped his arms around me and said, "Neanea, I wish we could celebrate Easter everyday."<br />
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Pause. Consider that for a moment.<br />
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Easter everyday? I think that's precisely what we've been missing. <br />
<br />
Easter is wonderful, but what about the other 364 days of the year? Why do most people, myself often times included, live as though the power of the cross is only effective on Sundays? Or maybe even <em>the </em>Sunday? When Christ muttered, "It is finished," I think he simultaneously breathed hope into the universe, and sometimes, I miss the boat on that enormous truth. <br />
<br />
<em>Sin is finished. </em><br />
<em>Death is finished.</em><br />
<em>Hopelessness is finished.</em><br />
<em>Torment is finished.</em><br />
<em>Sickness is finished.</em><br />
<em>Loneliness is finished.</em><br />
<em>Despair is finished.</em><br />
<em>Addiction is finished.</em><br />
<em>Brokenness is finished.</em><br />
<em>Defeat is finished.</em><br />
<em>Satan is finished.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
Jesus came to redeem us, ransom us, and restore us. He deliberately stole the keys of hell and the grave, and He reigns victorious still, despite what it oftentimes looks like. Yes, our final restoration is coming, but I don't think we have to wait for heaven to experience any of it. I think He desires us to pursue that "it is finished" bit here and now. Friends, He's won the war. Let's go to battle against the darts of a tangled life. Let's taste and see that the Lord is good. Let's stand up to the lies of the enemy. Let's own our identities as King's kids. <br />
<br />
And most of all, let's live Easter every day. White fluffy rabbit and absurd amounts of candy included. Obviously, Jesus can handle it. Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-22713685645538821532015-01-07T21:38:00.000-06:002015-01-07T21:38:45.852-06:00The story of your lifeI promise, I'm not quoting any One Direction lyrics today, though I must say, the thought <em>did </em>cross my mind. Actually, I'm not giving you anything original this time, but I am about to gift you with an awesome spark for your idea bank, so it's not a total bust.<br />
<br />
I heard the coolest project idea on the radio earlier this afternoon. It's called the "Storybook of My Life," and of course, you're the author. Each week, you decorate, write out, draw, or use any other method of depiction that you can imagine to describe the events of your life during the previous seven days. This probably goes without saying, but at the end of the year, you'll have a unique and otherwise irreplaceable history book that delivers your raw and unfolding story.<br />
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I quite literally have a closet overflowing with notebooks and journals, and I'd guess I probably have 1000 pages or more of my various writings, so it could be the nerd in me, but this is one of the top ten coolest ideas I've ever been privileged to hear. It's so adaptable and practical that it's ideal for singles, newlyweds, forever marrieds, young families, old families, and grandparents alike. The possibilities are endless and the memories will be priceless. <br />
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I'm all in. Time to make more shelf space in the closet :) <br />
<br />
Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-8527183103784685452014-12-24T11:24:00.000-06:002014-12-24T11:24:17.520-06:00Christmas through a new lenseMerry Christmas Eve, readers and friends!<br />
<br />
I promise to be short-winded today, really. <br />
<br />
I was reading through the Christmas story today. Not out of religious duty, moral obligation, or self-imposed guilt, but simply because I needed the focus. The holidays are lovely and well, but I gotta be honest; they're also demanding, chaotic, and exhausting. I don't want to just survive another holiday this year. I want to really grasp the magic and wonder and joy of the season. I want Christmas in my heart more than I want any Christmas under a tree or in a stocking.<br />
<br />
That foundation being laid, I'm going to take you to Luke 1, and we'll start in verse 39:<br />
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<em>Now at this time Mary arose and went in a hurry to the hill country, to a city of Judah, and entered the house of Zacharias and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby leaped in her womb; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. And she cried out with a loud voice and said, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And how has it happened to me, that the mother of my Lord would come to me? For behold, when the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby leaped in my womb for joy. <strong>And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what had been spoken to her by the Lord."</strong></em><br />
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Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment. Wow.<br />
<br />
I'm not going reiterate the miraculous virgin birth for you, or the beauty of a baby that would deliver the world from sin and death. I'm pretty sure that picture has been amply painted. But what about you? What about <em>your</em> Christmas? What about God's promises to <em>you</em>? What heaven-ordained fulfillments are you still waiting on? Do you still believe?<br />
<br />
Christmas is the season of believing, and I'm all for it, but December 26 will be here shortly. Don't let the hope of Jesus die with the tree or the lights. His word is full of promises, and the promises are ours for the taking 365 days a year. Elizabeth was old and barren when John was conceived- I would imagine that hope was a far off feeling. God's word may have appeared null and void, but it wasn't. He didn't forget Elizabeth, He didn't forget Israel, and He didn't forget Simeon, just like He hasn't forgotten us.<strong> </strong>Let that truth sink into your heart. His personal word and promises to you still stand. <strong>He hasn't forgotten you. </strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
Merry Christmas, friends. May hope and peace be yours in abundance. Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-42911285419100298672014-12-07T21:33:00.000-06:002014-12-07T21:33:52.111-06:00An afternoon vocabulary lessonI think Jesus likes vocabulary; or, He knows I'm a giant word nerd and speaks accordingly. Both are win-win scenarios, so I'm not too terribly caught up in trying to decipher truth from perception. Not this time, anyways.<br />
<br />
Undone. Have you ever stopped to consider this term? I hadn't...and then, I heard it approximately 15,000 times in a week's span and decided I ought to give it some thought. <br />
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<u>Undone</u>: <em>adjective</em>: not fastened or tied, not done, unfinished, defeated or destroyed<br />
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I'll be honest. At first glance, that definition did nothing for my life, spirituality, or other common knowledge. It felt like a waste of paper, so why did "undone" keep pervading my language transactions? I had to dig deeper. <br />
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By "digging deeper," I mean I was reclining in an over sized chair, soaking in some Arizona sunlight, and attempting to steal a short nap, but my inquisitive nature wouldn't take a break. It just sounded more introspective and scholarly to phrase it, "dig deeper." I guess that cat is out of the bag. It's okay, though, because it goes to the raw honesty of my interactions with the Father and that which I relay to you as a result. I'm not a Bible scholar. I've never been to Bible school, and I don't claim to be a spiritual superstar. I don't spend a trillion hours a day locked away in a study praying and fasting, and after five and a half years of really loving Jesus, I literally just learned that there were two disciples named Simon. That's important for you to grasp because I don't want you to imagine something about me that is over-exaggerated or untrue. God speaks to me very simply, often times in the day-to-day dealings of my commonplace life. If you take nothing else away from this post, be encouraged that if He can speak to and teach me, He'll certainly be able to do the same for you.<br />
<br />
But back to undone. What does it really mean to be undone? Undone in the presence of God even? I initially dismissed the defining word "destroyed," because I thought it lacked value. It felt oppressive and undesirable. The mental image I attached to the term gave me anything but a warm fuzzy feeling. However, the longer I sat, my thoughts were rearranged. Maybe destruction is exactly what I (we) need. I won't speak for you, but maybe destruction is exactly what I crave.<br />
<br />
<u>Destruction</u>: <em>noun</em>: the act or process of damaging something so badly that it no longer exists or cannot be repaired<br />
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So many things within my heart and mind need a final destruction. A destruction I can't carry out in my own strength, intentions, or efforts, but rather a destruction that comes only through the power of Christ. A tearing down of strongholds (sin, fear, doubt, shame, lust, greed, pride, hate, or whatever other stronghold you battle) that we simply can't manage via our own self-sufficiency. I want the strongholds to be utterly destroyed. Yes, I want to be undone.<br />
<br />
Undone carries a hopeful tone, too. I want to undo my patterns of thinking, doing, and living. I want to overhaul my viewpoints and get rid of stupid and religious thinking. Such an undoing is inexplicably and powerfully redemptive. See Romans 12:2 if you want proof.<br />
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Finally, I am unfinished business, and such a state delights me. I forever want to keep this truth in the forefront of my thinking and living. I always want to hunger and seek after more. I don't want to live satisfied, because if I lack nothing, than I have need of nothing. May it never be.Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-23060262831170112182014-11-19T16:27:00.000-06:002014-11-19T16:30:18.622-06:00The wins in lifeThis is, by light years, probably the most awkward post I've ever scribbled, but I think it's worth the write. I'm not exactly the sharing type. Okay, in fact, I'm the polar opposite. Sure, I clutter up the Facebook newsfeed with silly tidbits from my wild and crazy, almost unbelievable, could-easily-be-a-sitcom life, but I keep most of my own true realities off the world wide web...<br />
<br />
...until today, because sometimes, good news is worth repeating. Often times we hear of the struggles and the troubles, but the "wins" in life don't always get much of a stage. I have an opinion concerning that scenario, but I'll save it for a rainy day. So without any further ado, ladies and gentlemen, I bring you some really, <em>really</em> good news. <br />
<br />
It's been an odd year. Not too many months in, I noticed weird changes in my body. Subtle, at first, and then gradually, more demanding of my attention. Finally one evening I decided my stubbornness would have to resign to the necessity of being fully alive, awake, and aware of my surroundings. <br />
<br />
I made an appointment with my doctor, who ordered a batch of tests and sent me on down the hall to the next doctor. That doctor interpreted the results and suggested I see doctor number three, who then wanted her own set of diagnostics. By that point, it was September, the battle had raged for three months, and I was particularly tired of imaging tubes and blood draws. I was weary of the process, and then one morning the doctor walked in the room and said, "I have bad news. You're going to need surgeries."<br />
<br />
I'm a, "break it to me gently," type of gal. You know, the type that gradually wakes up to fifteen alarms in the morning and prefers to exchange niceties and small talk before engaging in deep or serious conversations. When the doctor walked in and said, "I have bad news," straight off the cuff, I was caught totally and completely off guard. I hadn't prepared for that type of conversation, and I couldn't bring myself to focus on anything other than her crooked haircut. <br />
<br />
She left me with a referral to Barnes Jewish hospital in St. Louis, and finally, in early November, I saw a brain surgeon there. Much to my delight, he gave me the surgical all clear. I could confuse you with a list of long-lettered words, but very simply put, my brain doesn't look like a textbook example. There's some minor discrepancies between the opinions of the neurologist and neurosurgeon, but at the end of the day, my good 'ole thinker doesn't require any surgical intervention, and I am <u><em><strong>happy</strong></em></u> about that!<br />
<br />
Having cleared the first major hurdle, I starred at the base of mountain number two. All of my treating physicians were in agreement that an appointment with a spinal surgeon was in order. After having a massive spinal fusion in 2007, I was anything but excited about the possibility of additional surgery. <br />
<br />
That catches us up to the last ten days. On a whim, I decided to do some investigative research on the whereabouts of my previous spine surgeon, though I was led to believe he was no longer practicing medicine. Thanks to Google and a few keystrokes, I was able to locate him in Denver. I placed a call to his office, and things fell perfectly into place from the first hello. I talked to a receptionist who was very interested in my story. She talked with the doctor, and he offered to review my latest diagnostics and schedule a consultation in December. A trip to the local medical records office and seven bucks later, all of my latest imaging and treatment reports were en route to a doctor who's not only very familiar with my case, but is also rated one of the top surgeons in his field. I wasn't sure what would come of his review, but I trusted his judgment, and with that, the hundredth game of "hurry up and wait" began. <br />
<br />
Meanwhile, I had two more doctor appointments and a blood draw. For the first time in seven months, my lab results came back completely normal. I wish I had sufficient verbiage to explain the magnificence or significance of that victory, but 26 letters just isn't enough. I was indeed quite thankful, but little did I know, the best news was yet to come.<br />
<br />
I was tying up some odds and ends at the office yesterday afternoon when my phone rang. Much to my surprise, my Denver based surgeon spoke up on the other end. I'll be honest- my heart skipped a few beats. I figured in the world of medicine, a phone call from the doctor himself probably meant anything but good news. We exchanged niceties and I prepared myself for the worst. He asked questions and explained the last seven months of diagnoses better than anyone I've spoken to yet. After our ten minute exchange, his recommendation was as follows:<br />
<br />
<em>This (blah, blah, blah, insert formal diagnostic label here) isn't anything new. In fact, it was present eight years ago when we did the first fusion. The other treating physicians probably haven't seen much of it, hence their cause for concern, but being familiar with your case, <strong>it's nothing that alarms me</strong>. Your latest imaging looks fair. The best thing you can do is stay healthy, stay mobile, incorporate some strength training into your routine, be nice to your body, <strong>and let's do anything we can to avoid another fusion.</strong> </em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>Doctor, we have a deal! </em><br />
<br />
He gave a few more suggestions, my heart skipped a few more excited beats, we ended our conversation wishing the other a happy holiday season, and just like that, a giant weight was lifted. <br />
<br />
Now, of course, none of this is without provision, but we're talking about the difference between mountains and mole hills. Mountains that would have included multiple hospitalizations, surgeries, home health care, an extended recovery period, and a shaved head and ugly scars as the added bonus. Comparatively, everything else is a walk in the park. <br />
<br />
I'd be a total and complete liar if I led you to believe I've walked through the last months with this overwhelming peace and righteous attitude about the trials and tribulations, because that was not always the case. However, I can say with complete assurance and total honesty that God proved Himself faithful over and over and over again.<br />
<br />
I'm reminded of one particular afternoon that I was stuck at home fighting a case of the blues when a worship song I wasn't familiar with (Breathe You In by Bryan and Katie Torwalt) came across my Pandora station. The whole thing was good, but these particular few lines flooded my heart with sweet invitation:<br />
<br />
<em>And when I don't understand, I will choose you. </em><br />
<em>When I don't understand, I will choose to love you, God.</em><br />
<em>And you are good, God.</em><br />
<em>You are good to me.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
Choice. Everything boils down to choice, and I want to choose well. <br />
<br />
<strong>Psalm 27: A Psalm of Fearless Trust in God</strong><br />
The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> is my <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14287A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14287A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup>light and my <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14287B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14287B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup>salvation;<br />
<span class="text Ps-27-1">Whom shall I fear?</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-1">The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> is the defense of my life;</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-1"><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14287D" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14287D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></sup>Whom shall I dread?</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-2" id="en-NASB-14288"><sup class="versenum">2 </sup>When evildoers came upon me to <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14288E" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14288E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></sup>devour my flesh,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-2">My adversaries and my enemies, they <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14288F" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14288F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)"></sup>stumbled and fell.</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-3" id="en-NASB-14289"><sup class="versenum">3 </sup>Though a <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14289G" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14289G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></sup>host encamp against me,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-3">My heart will not fear;</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-3">Though war arise against me,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-3">In <i>spite of</i> this I shall be <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14289H" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14289H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)"></sup>confident.</span><br />
<div class="poetry top-1">
<div class="line">
<span class="text Ps-27-4" id="en-NASB-14290"><sup class="versenum">4 </sup><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14290I" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14290I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)"></sup>One thing I have asked from the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, that I shall seek:</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-4">That I may <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14290J" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14290J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)"></sup>dwell in the house of the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> all the days of my life,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-4">To behold <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14290K" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14290K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)"></sup>the beauty of the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-4">And to meditate in His temple.</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-5" id="en-NASB-14291"><sup class="versenum">5 </sup>For in the <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14291M" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14291M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)"></sup>day of trouble He will <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14291N" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14291N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)"></sup>conceal me in His tabernacle;</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-5">In the secret place of His tent He will <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14291O" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14291O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)"></sup>hide me;</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-5">He will <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14291P" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14291P" title="See cross-reference P">P</a>)"></sup>lift me up on a rock.</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-6" id="en-NASB-14292"><sup class="versenum">6 </sup>And now <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14292Q" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14292Q" title="See cross-reference Q">Q</a>)"></sup>my head will be lifted up above my enemies around me,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-6">And I will offer in His tent <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14292R" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14292R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)"></sup>sacrifices with shouts of joy;</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-6">I will <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14292S" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14292S" title="See cross-reference S">S</a>)"></sup>sing, yes, I will sing praises to the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="poetry top-1">
<div class="line">
<span class="text Ps-27-7" id="en-NASB-14293"><sup class="versenum">7 </sup><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14293T" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14293T" title="See cross-reference T">T</a>)"></sup>Hear, O <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, when I cry with my voice,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-7">And be gracious to me and <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14293U" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14293U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)"></sup>answer me.</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-8" id="en-NASB-14294"><sup class="versenum">8 </sup><i>When You said</i>, “<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14294V" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14294V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)"></sup>Seek My face,” my heart said to You,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-8">“Your face, O <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14294W" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14294W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)"></sup>I shall seek.”</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-9" id="en-NASB-14295"><sup class="versenum">9 </sup><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14295X" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14295X" title="See cross-reference X">X</a>)"></sup>Do not hide Your face from me,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-9">Do not turn Your servant away in <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14295Y" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14295Y" title="See cross-reference Y">Y</a>)"></sup>anger;</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-9">You have been <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14295Z" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14295Z" title="See cross-reference Z">Z</a>)"></sup>my help;</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-9"><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14295AA" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14295AA" title="See cross-reference AA">AA</a>)"></sup>Do not abandon me nor <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14295AB" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14295AB" title="See cross-reference AB">AB</a>)"></sup>forsake me,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-9">O God of my salvation!</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-10" id="en-NASB-14296"><sup class="versenum">10 </sup>For my father and <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14296AC" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14296AC" title="See cross-reference AC">AC</a>)"></sup>my mother have forsaken me,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-10">But <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14296AD" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14296AD" title="See cross-reference AD">AD</a>)"></sup>the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> will take me up.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="poetry top-1">
<div class="line">
<span class="text Ps-27-11" id="en-NASB-14297"><sup class="versenum">11 </sup><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14297AE" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14297AE" title="See cross-reference AE">AE</a>)"></sup>Teach me Your way, O <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-11">And lead me in a <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14297AF" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14297AF" title="See cross-reference AF">AF</a>)"></sup>level path</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-11">Because of my foes.</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-12" id="en-NASB-14298"><sup class="versenum">12 </sup>Do not deliver me over to the desire of my adversaries,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-12">For <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14298AH" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14298AH" title="See cross-reference AH">AH</a>)"></sup>false witnesses have risen against me,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-12">And such as <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14298AI" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14298AI" title="See cross-reference AI">AI</a>)"></sup>breathe out violence.</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-13" id="en-NASB-14299"><sup class="versenum">13 </sup><i>I would have despaired</i> unless I had believed that I would see the <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14299AJ" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14299AJ" title="See cross-reference AJ">AJ</a>)"></sup>goodness of the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-13">In the <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14299AK" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14299AK" title="See cross-reference AK">AK</a>)"></sup>land of the living.</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-14" id="en-NASB-14300"><sup class="versenum">14 </sup><sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14300AL" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14300AL" title="See cross-reference AL">AL</a>)"></sup>Wait for the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>;</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-14">Be <sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-14300AM" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-14300AM" title="See cross-reference AM">AM</a>)"></sup>strong and let your heart take courage;</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-14">Yes, wait for the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>.</span></div>
</div>
Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-29531054760094086712014-11-13T15:00:00.001-06:002014-11-13T15:01:35.122-06:00A puppy and our hearts: A shared story of relief <span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm a dog lover. If you've ever met me or followed me on
Facebook, this comes as no surprise to you. Quite naturally, then, you might
assume I'm a sucker for strays, and again, you would be absolutely correct. <o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yesterday my dad brought me a dumped puppy from his farm,
and as I do, I brought it home to clean it up and love on it a bit before rehoming
the sweet baby. As we processed through the evening, my heart grasped the most
beautiful picture of redemption and restoration. God's timing is indescribably
perfect.<o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">From what I can gather, Mocha (the puppy) was abandoned
and left to die. She came to me starved, sick, shivering, and covered in fleas
and ticks. She didn't know me, but could probably only sense I was much bigger than her,
and resembled that of which previously discarded her. She had no reason to
trust me, and I certainly didn't blame her. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As I placed her in the tub, she didn't<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>initially understand the difference between a
warm bath and a mid-November rain storm. Her previous experiences with water
probably weren't all that great. I knew and well understood the bath was for
her benefit. I had a plan to rid her of the dirt and dust and bugs, but she
only sensed she was about to be wet...again. I literally sat and talked out
loud to this pup about how we were washing away her old life and starting down
a new path. She wasn't trash anymore; she was receiving a new name, a new
identity, and a new start. She was finally going to be clean and warm and wanted. Obviously, she's
a dog, so she didn't comprehend a single word I spoke to her, but her lack of
understanding didn't change the reality of her rescue.<o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After her bath, I started the seemingly insurmountable
task of debugging her. Some of the ticks were buried so deep that her skin was
tender, swollen, and infected. She whimpered and cried as I dug
the ticks out one by one. Again, she didn't understand my intentions. Yes, I
was inflicting some pain, but it was purposeful. My efforts weren't to cause
her more suffering, but instead to very deliberately take what was hurting,
remove the root cause, and in turn, make her healthy again. It was redemption on a grand
scale, but it didn't come without a price. While she only saw the pain, I saw the payoff. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Finally, I took her through this whole process only
to leave her in the bathroom and turn out the light (she's most likely contagious, and I couldn't risk making the other babies sick). Instinctually, she
probably felt alone and vulnerable...again. What she didn't understand was that
I was just on the other side of that door. She was in my house now, and she was
safe. She could let her guard down. She could rest. She may not have sensed it,
but I was there all the while, listening for her cries. Through her literal,
bathroom light out and door shut darkness, she wasn't alone. </span><br />
<br />
I laid in bed last night overwhelmed at the goodness of God. He knows, and He sees. Wow.<br />
<br />
Our lives may often times resemble Mocha's. Maybe we're in need of an obvious rescue from a catastrophic life...or maybe not. Maybe we're just desperate for a less apparent, but equally as profound rescue from our own hearts, minds, or the mundane life. You see, there's this ridiculous misconception that if you're not on drugs, in jail, working the streets, or living under a bridge, that redemption and restoration aren't necessary. I disagree.<br />
<br />
Jesus cares about every part of us- even our hearts- our <em>real</em> hearts. Good, bad, pretty, ugly, or indifferent, He's "all in," if you will. We weren't just redeemed once at the cross, though that alone would be sufficient. I truly believe with every ounce and fiber of my being that God is in the business of our continual redemption. Be encouraged by that. Whatever part it is in you that He's calling out, trust Him. He's just on the other side of that door, and I promise you, His intentions are always good.<br />
<br />
<em>The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted; He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and freedom to prisoners; to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord and the day of vengeance of our God; To comfort all who mourn, to grant those who mourn in Zion, giving them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a spirit of fainting (Isaiah 61:1-3).</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em></em> </div>
Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-82829162864301344832014-10-30T09:39:00.000-05:002014-10-30T09:39:08.104-05:00A little morning gloryI am, by nature, a planner, a critical thinker, and a big fan of introspection. <br />
<br />
I think it's vital to our growth as human beings to pause and take an honest evaluation of where we're at, what it is we're aiming for, and by what methods we live out our daily lives. Today as I watched a breathtaking sunrise, the house was caked in flour (it's a long story) and I was soaking in the giggles of a child. I couldn't help but think maybe some areas of my life are deficient. For instance, my more-frequent-than-I'd-like-to-admit- lack of thankfulness.<br />
<br />
I woke up with a beating heart this morning, and sometimes, I forget the sheer triumph it is to be alive. Our bodies are these intricately formed miracles that function without conscious effort or awareness. If we, if I, stopped to consider the majesty of that, our perspectives would undoubtedly improve.<br />
<br />
Life is full of trials, but yet it overflows with victories, beauty, and raw wonder. I think when we set our hearts on living appreciative, the small wins will become more visible and the big ones all the more glorious. <br />
<br />
I am thankful. I'm thankful to be alive. I'm thankful to be loved. I'm thankful to have eyes that behold the beauty of creation. I'm thankful to have ears that can distinguish laughter. I'm thankful to have arms full of nieces and nephews and siblings and god-children that are happy, healthy, and loved. I'm thankful to live in a country that, despite it's failures, allows me the freedom to be and live and go and do. I'm thankful for solid, unadulterated friendships, for truth, for fun, and for flowers. I'm thankful for macaroni and cheese and chocolate soy milk at 2am. I'm thankful for Jesus. I'm thankful for every road trip, airplane flight, and taxi ride I've ever been afforded. I'm thankful for all life's other little pleasures, and dare I say it, I'm thankful for life's displeasures, too, because they've made the "other side" all the more precious.<br />
<br />
And with that, I dare you to nourish a grateful heart today. The end.Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-20475870552742525542014-10-17T12:53:00.000-05:002014-10-17T12:53:15.119-05:00Be careful, momma mouth, what you say!<em>Be careful, little mouth, what you say!</em><br />
<em>Oh be careful, little mouth, what you say!</em><br />
<em>There's a Father up above,</em><br />
<em>And He's looking down in love.</em><br />
<em>So be careful, little mouth, what you say!</em><br />
<em></em><br />
I can't be the only one who sings this song. I don't even remember where I first learned it, or who sang it to me, but it's one of those baby lullabies that's permanently engraved in my brain, and every niece, nephew, and god child I have has to suffer through my less-than-gracious singing abilities while I spit out these words, because "Good night, baby," finally got old. Enough of my story.<br />
<br />
<strong>I'm flabbergasted.</strong> <br />
<br />
I just left preschool time at the gym, which is dramatic every other Friday all in its own, but this time, momma was the culprit. She outdid every preschooler in the place, put together, and then multiplied. Literally, it was <em>that</em> bad.<br />
<br />
I watched the whole scenario unfold. Kid 1 jumps into the foam pit, followed by Kid 2 who gets a little too anxious and lunges into the foam pit with glee, hitting Kid 1 in the mouth and busting open a lip. Kid 1 screams, Kid 2 looks puzzled, and then the world fell apart. Not the kids' world, mind you, but momma's world. Yes, she was panicked. No, nobody wants to see their toddler in pain. Yes, blood makes everything seem more serious. I get all of that, but her reaction...? Inappropriate, to say the least. <br />
<br />
She physically confronts the kid, yanks her bleeding child from the pit, and marches off yelling, "You <u>stupid</u> kid!" Mom 1 then shoves Kid 1 into Mom 2 and says, "Control your <u>monster</u>! He hurt my angel!" <br />
<br />
Okay, okay, back up. We're gathered in a small space crammed full of feisty youngsters who are experiencing sensory overload at it's finest. You have to be ready for anything momma, including a busted lip. <br />
<br />
Anybody who's spent more than sixty seconds with a child between the stages of crawling and graduating high school knows accidents happen. It's almost like the little aliens are born accident-prone. Why do you think there's fifteen different cartoon band aids lining the Walmart isle? Because kids get hurt...<strong>all the time</strong>. <br />
<br />
Kid 1 has a busted lip, and within a week or so, it will heal. Kid 2 just got publicly humiliated, disgraced, and bullied by someone ten times his age. I don't know how long that wound will take to scab over, much less heal. Death and life are in the power of the tongue; a concept much more hefty to grasp than the manners or patience of a four-year-old child. <br />
<br />
Wake up, moms and dads, grandmas and grandpas, aunts and uncles, and caretakers of the world! We <u>have to</u> get a hold on our words, actions, and reactions. Those little eyes and ears are watching us, ever so closely, and they <u>will</u> repeat everything we teach them. Let's be gentle in our correction, kind in our chaos, and never ever demeaning or cruel in our words. After all, this big bad world is mean enough, and I think we ought not raise more bullies, yeah?<br />
Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-23665877601487825682014-10-12T22:50:00.002-05:002014-10-13T05:44:11.191-05:00The great wagerI feel compelled to start this post off with a truthful disclosure: I have absolutely no idea where or how this writing is going to end. My heart is full, but my words are tangled in the spider web of complication. I think they've termed this syndrome "writer's block," but I can't make a definite diagnosis. Anyways, consider yourselves warned. <br />
<br />
If I had to adequately describe the last twelve months of my life in ten seconds or less, I would tell you that it was like riding the world's tallest roller coaster backwards and blindfolded after eating cheese tots and winning the lottery, to which you might be compelled to ask, "What does that mean?", and I would further clarify by telling you I have no idea. Our exchange would be among the top ten most sincere conversations I've ever had.<br />
<br />
Life is weird (or, at least mine is, anyways). My cousin and I were recently discussing our lives and all the triumphs, struggles, complications, and victories in our journeys. Our ramblings escorted me all the way down memory lane, and I can safely say that life is surprising. Believe it or not, I think that's a good thing. <br />
<br />
I am so thankful. In fact, I don't even like the word thankful because it feels overused, cheap, and devoid of value, but Webster's pocket dictionary only offered me blissful, chuffed, delighted, gratified, happy, joyful, joyous, pleased, satisfied, glad, or tickled as synonyms, and none of those fit. I am hugely, extraordinarily, and exceedingly grateful for the daily opportunity to breathe fresh air. <br />
The places God has brought me to and through and around and under are crazy good, to the point of being unbelievable. The paths I've meandered on and down and around are breath-taking and maybe a bit frightening. The sights and sounds and smells along the way are almost too much for human language. This whole being alive thing, it's just really, really, <em>really </em>marvelous. Sometimes I'm afraid we take that for granted. <br />
<br />
I don't know what's next. My perfectly laid out, neatly ordered, and firmly established life plan gets jumbled out of order unexpectedly at approximately hourly intervals, so I've pretty much given up on the whole trying to figure out what's behind the next curve thing. Maybe I'll visit the moon, or Paris, or my next door neighbor (that last one is highly unlikely). Or maybe I'll take an early retirement and stay home and write novels while drinking excessive amounts of chocolate soy milk and eating honey nut cheerios with my puppies. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll run an orphan village and turn out like the little old lady who lived in a shoe, except I won't be whipping kids before bed, and we won't <em>actually</em> live in a worn out shoe. The truth is, I don't know about tomorrow, or next week, or a year from now, but I'm all-in. I want to love large and lead people to Jesus. It's really just that simple. Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-21678866973330790142014-10-03T14:16:00.000-05:002014-10-03T14:16:48.019-05:00Finish with the fear!I want to paint a picture for you:<br />
<br />
Twenty-five year old female stands five-foot-six and tackles the world every day in dress slacks and a pair of four-inch heels. There's the planes, trains, taxis, and rented automobiles, the always pesky airport security, lost luggage, and a team full of people to coordinate. Lest we forget e-mail, snail mail, text message, and a habitually low phone battery. It would appear as though nothing can slow slow her down, right?<br />
<br />
Except that spider, who is the size of a dime and her own backyard after dark, because after all, an ax-murderer could be lurking in the shadows and intend to inflict a slow and unusual death upon her as she innocently disposes of the trash on Monday evenings. Legitimate concern, right?<br />
<br />
Fear is an interesting concept. It plagues immeasurable amounts of people, but often has no validity. One of my very good friends uses an acronym to describe fear: false evidence appearing real. I've often seen self-help slogans proclaiming, "Fear is a liar," and "On the other side of fear lies freedom." I don't disagree, but with all of these adamant declarations and soothing techniques aimed at vanquishing fear, why are so many people still afraid?<br />
<br />
Let's go back to that newly painted picture of yours truly. Admittedly, I'm afraid of spiders and ax-murderers...and drowning, and needles, and snakes, and strangers, and awkward social situations, and dark quiet places, but why? Do fears have any reasonable function or foundation? <br />
<br />
For grins and giggles, let's use the words, "function" and "purpose" interchangeably for a moment. Does fear have a purpose? When I posed this question to myself, I automatically thought of the body's fight-or-flight mechanism. In this process, our mind perceives a threat and our body automatically responds by releasing stress hormones, increasing our heart rate, and speeding up our breathing. Essentially, our body prepares for battle. Fear could, and probably would, illicit this fight-or-flight response, which would certainly be beneficial in the event of an actual threat; however, the brain can actually respond with the fight-or-flight process without actually being in any sort of danger. Basically, what we perceive as danger isn't always so. <br />
<br />
Let's move on to phase two of this equation. Does fear have any real foundation? If Little Suzie or Cousin Joe had been mauled by a bear, was laid up in a hospital for weeks, and escaped with only one leg and a few fingers, chances are, most people would agree they would have a reasonable cause (or foundation) for fear and intimidation. I would agree, but that doesn't free Suzie or Joe from any of the crippling effects of fear. The bear may have stolen their legs and fingers, but fear could potentially steal a lifetime of adventures from them if they were too afraid to step outside again.<br />
<br />
Also important to consider is that fear (or lack thereof) has no bearing on actual danger. Earlier, we established our ability to distinguish between actual and assumed threats is sometimes skewed. On the contrary, consider those bozos on television that play with boa constrictors and wear rattle snakes around their necks like costume jewelry. They claim they're not afraid, and they certainly don't act the part, but that doesn't make handling deadly snakes any less dangerous. Their perception is skewed. <br />
<br />
Fear distorts perception and reality. Fear limits, confines, suffocates, and destroys. Why do we continue to allow ourselves to be help captive by such fantasies? Isn't true that we're often confined by the walls we build ourselves? <br />
<br />
"Fear isn't a fantasy, Lindsay. You have no idea how scary ________ (fill in the blank) is!" You're right, maybe I don't, but I do very well know what it is to be totally afraid, and I'm saying there is a better alternative. The bottom line is life <em>is</em> scary. Sometimes it's even one big giant mess, but there is a more peaceful, happy, able-to-live-life-again solution. We just have to want it. You and I, we have to want to be free from that which binds us up. And after the wanting, we have to seek it out with everything we have. We have to refuse to give up, give in, or quit. <br />
<br />
So here's to you, and here's to me. Here's to happier days, more restful nights, and a life free from fear. It's out there, and it's ours for the taking. <br />
<br />
<em>Isaiah 41:10: Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you. Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>Philippians 4:6-7: Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. </em>Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-28852477224768120292014-08-12T22:37:00.002-05:002014-08-12T22:37:42.925-05:00The curse and the rainbowWhen's the last time you read the story of Noah? I mean, actually sat down with a Bible and read the four chapters in Genesis that outline Noah's life? I'll be honest- up until two weeks ago, I don't think I had <em>ever</em> read the story, or at least as an adult anyways. I had allowed myself to believe it was a cute children's story God included in documenting early history, and as a bonus, it doubled as a suitable nursery theme. You can imagine (or maybe, like me, you can't) my surprise when there wasn't a single "cute" aspect of this man's story. I was blown away.<br />
<br />
Let me back up. A friend and I were having a casual Sunday evening cup of java and discussing our current personal studies, and waaa-laaa, our good friend Noah entered the picture. She mentioned how her pastor was doing a sermon series on the book of Genesis and how intriguing it was. Her statements sent me on the search, and that prompted this writing. <br />
<br />
To lay down some basics for you, God created the world and all that filled it in Genesis 1 and 2. Sin entered the world and Adam and Eve were unrepentant, therefore loosing their place in the Garden in chapter 3. Sin continues to flourish and the first murder occurs in Genesis 4, and then the bloodline of Adam is documented in great detail in Genesis 5. <br />
<br />
Now that you're caught up, you realize how far sin has evolved in chapter 6. The situation quickly turns tragic.<br />
<br />
<em>Genesis 6:5-6: Then the Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great on the earth, and that every intent of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. The Lord was sorry that He had made man on the earth, and He was grieved in His heart. The Lord said, "I will blot out man, whom I have created, from the face of the land, from man to animals to creeping things and to birds of the sky; for I am sorry that I have made them." </em><br />
<em></em><br />
Just five chapters earlier, "<em>God saw all that He had made, and behold, it was very good." </em>It only took the human race five chapters to cause God such a disturbing grief in His heart that He was filled with deep regret. God hates sin, period. The wages of sin was death for Noah's generation, and the story remains the same today. Without the shed blood of Jesus Christ and the acceptance of salvation, the wages of sin is still death (Romans 6:23).<br />
<br />
Then God introduces Noah...<br />
<br />
<em>Genesis 6:8-9: But Noah found grace (favor) in the eyes of the Lord. This is the history of the generations of Noah. Noah was a just and righteous man, blameless in his [evil] generation; Noah walked [in habitual fellowship] with God. </em><br />
<br />
I had to chew on these two verses for a few days. Talk about loneliness! Here's Noah, his wife, their three sons, and their three daughters in law amongst an entire generation of faithless people. I can only begin to imagine the ridicule they received before Noah ever started building the ark, much less afterwards. Noah's family was a family of integrity. I can guarantee they weren't doing the same things or hanging out at the same places as the rest of the block. They had no intentions of keeping up with the Jones'. They were committed to a much higher calling. <br />
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It's so easy sometimes as a believer to look around and think of the things we're "missing," and the path can (and does) get lonely sometimes. "God everyone else is [insert complaint here] and they seem to be having the time of their lives!" Maybe I'm the only one who's ever had such a thought, but Genesis 6:8-9 provided a lovely reality check on my poor, pitiful me way of thinking. Discipleship isn't popular. <br />
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<em>Matthew 16:24-26: Then Jesus said to His disciples, "If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?"</em><br />
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This is a New Testament description of the Old Testament story. I'm sure by the world's standards, the people of Noah's seemed to have the world at their fingertips. My guess is they were seemingly happy and totally indifferent to their sin. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?<br />
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Fast forward. Noah builds an ark, God brings the animals, everybody loads up in the boat, God shuts the door, the heavens open and pour rain, everything outside the ark that had breath died, and Noah and his shipmates floated for a year and a few days. Amidst all this trial and tribulation, God is silent. He thinks of Noah, but we don't have any record of God speaking to Noah until Genesis 8:15. Three hundred and sixty five days Noah is on that boat, surrounded by nothing but water and I'm sure an unimaginable stench, and God says <u>nothing.</u> This should give us great hope. Maybe you're waiting on an answer; maybe you're facing a storm. Take heart, friends. Noah waited over a year. Your answer will come, too. Your miracle will happen. God didn't forget about Noah, and He won't forget about you, either. (P.S.- This segment wasn't my original thought. It was part of that Sunday night java conversation I told you about, but I thought it was worth repeating).<br />
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Finally, after what probably seemed like the longest year of his 601, Noah, his family, and his zoo of animals exited the boat. Interestingly enough, immediately thereafter, Noah built an altar and offered sacrifices to the Lord. Again, this amazes me. The man had been held captive at sea with seven people and a whole bunch of wildlife. If I were casting the vote, I'd say that outdoes any other sacrifice imaginable, but Noah, being the man of integrity he was, took the time to give back to God. <br />
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<em>Genesis 8:21</em>- <em>The Lord smelled the soothing aroma; and the Lord </em><em>said to Himself, "I will never again curse the ground on account of man, for the intent of man's heart is evil from his youth; and I will never again destroy every living thing, as I have done." </em><br />
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I'm not a Bible scholar. In fact, I have a very limited amount of Bible knowledge, but it sounds to me like Noah's sacrifice changed the heart of God to such an extent that it may have potentially altered the course of history. If that thought process is way off base, then at the very least, Noah ministered to God. Think about that for a minute. <em>Noah's sacrifice ministered to the God of the universe.</em> Everybody thinks about and expects God to minister to people, but when is the last time we stopped to think about how we can minister to God? No, God doesn't need us in the same way we need Him (and thank God for that, because I would certainly fail Him), but any healthy relationship is a two-way street. As believers, maybe we need to focus a little more attention on giving and not be constantly caught up in a cycle of asking God for the next favor or bailout. <br />
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And finally, the grand finale. If you've made it this far, congratulations, you are a real trooper. Now let's get to the rainbow segment I promised in my title. The fast-track ending goes like this- God is pleased by Noah's sacrifice, tells Noah and the fam to fill the earth, gives a few commands, and then makes a covenant with Noah that has no expiration date or withdraw clauses. <br />
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<em>Genesis 9:12-16: God said, "This is the sign of the covenant which I am making between Me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all successive generations; I set My bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a sign of a covenant between Me and the earth. It shall come about, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the bow will be seen in the could, and I will remember my covenant, which is between Me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and never again shall the water become a flood to destroy all flesh. When the bow is in the cloud, then I will look upon it, to remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth." </em><br />
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Ahhh, the rainbow. The covenant. The promise. You know, God does what God does, and it's cool. I've been studying these chapters now for two weeks, and Saturday evening, I saw a rainbow. That rainbow changed my entire perspective. It was glorious and beautiful, but it was also weighty in purpose. The rainbow covenant was birthed from sin and God's reaction to that sin. The heart of God broke and the earth was cursed and destroyed, minus a few faithful followers. God made a promise to man, then set a reminder (the rainbow) for Himself. <br />
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I wonder how God feels when He paints a rainbow? Does He think back to the pain and regret of seeing sin destroy His creation, or does He go back to the pleasing aroma of Noah's sacrifice? How about us? How about Lindsay Lee? How do we see rainbows? May we never forget the curse before the covenant, and may we too, have the faith, determination, leadership,and integrity of Noah. <br />
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<em>Hebrews 11:7: By faith Noah, being warned by God about things not yet seen, in reverence prepared an ark for the salvation of his household, by which he condemned the world, and became an heir of the righteousness which is according to faith. </em><br />
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Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-69940745761835065742014-06-10T23:36:00.002-05:002014-06-10T23:36:59.717-05:00Finding God in the Storm A few weeks back, a friend and I were discussing the heart of God towards human kind and how His heart must break when sin wounds people. Good people, bad people, innocent people. It's the age old question; the question everyone asks, but no one wants to answer: "Where's God when...?" <br />
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How do you look into the tearful eyes of a hurting person and explain the love and mercy of a God who, in their moment, seems far off? This "Where's God?" question used to intimidate me, as if God's character was dependent upon my ability to adequately defend Him. Going deeper, I think I felt as though if I couldn't explain away the sheer terror that abounds on earth, my own belief foundation may shake or shatter. In all of my explaining, I never considered how this same opposition might wound the heart of God, as my friend recently suggested. <br />
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Though I've blogged similar thoughts for you before, this writing reflects a new perspective. I've included Scripture references in case you want to do your own study. <br />
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We are God's precious, beloved children. He loves us with a love we often don't understand or comprehend, as His love surpasses our limited knowledge (Ephesians 3:18-19). When He first created the world, He glazed down from the heavenly loft and saw that it was good (Genesis 1:31). Imagine a world that was perfect, sinless, and happy. How incredible and vastly different it was from our current reality.<br />
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God is a good Father, and because of His goodness, He gave us a free-will. I've questioned Him on this point, too, but if He didn't give us reign over our choices, He would be considered a controlling monster. He knew we would choose to act outside His boundaries, and He knew the consequences of those actions, yet He stepped aside anyways. He wanted us to choose Him out of our own desire, rather than duty or fear. True love is never forced or coerced, but instead is freely given and received. <br />
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Yes, we often wonder, "Where's God when...?" I don't think it's our doubts that really wound God. He's big enough to handle our fears, and in His presence, He dispels darkness. I think it's the work of the evil one that we allow in our hearts and minds that upsets God. Satan is a murderer and a liar (John 8:44). When we allow him, he twists our thoughts to deflect blame and rage from himself and vile acts of sin to God, our Father. God did not choose sin for His people, but Satan gloats when believers launch arrows of accusation towards His heavenly places. "Why God, why???!!!" Time and again He invites us to renew our minds and shift old patterns of thinking (Romans 12:2). Instead of asking, "Why, God?", when will His people begin declaring, "No more, Satan!" It's time for the righteous to tremble with holy indignation against the ruler of darkness.<br />
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The God of all heaven and earth takes pleasure in His people. He beautifies the afflicted ones with salvation (Psalm 149:4)! He is in our midst as a victorious warrior. He exults over us with joy. He is quiet in His love. He rejoices over us with shouting (Zephaniah 3:17). When will this be enough for us? When will we believe His heart towards us? When will we trust His love?<br />
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I truly believe God's heart shatters at the sound of our groaning. I think it agonizes Him to see His children anguishing as a result of sin. I think He trembles with holy rage when the works of the enemy seem to prevail against us. I imagine He weeps as we weep and aches as we ache. It's not that He can't save us from our despair, but that He already did. The moment Adam allowed sin to manifest in his heart, God began working out a plan of salvation for us. We do not have to grieve as those who have no hope! Our hope springs eternal.<br />
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We are in a war, folks. Not a war against flesh and blood, but against principalities, powers, and the ruler of darkness (Ephesians 6:10-12). Sometimes, as often is the case in war, the innocent are afflicted and even parish. It's a cruel reality, but so is sin. Satan has no partiality. He'll cast down whomever he can reach and devour (1 Peter 5:8). You see, that's his nature- death, destruction, heartache, abuse, sickness, disease, divorce, debt, abandonment, anger, lust, rage, brokenness, and all other sorts of evil. Make no mistake, Satan joys in our affliction.<br />
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However, I assure you that God does not joy in our afflictions. I know His heart aches and yearns for our healing. Our enemy is already a defeated foe!<br />
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God is not far-off, uninterested, or uncaring. He is a good Father. He loves us with an unending love (Romans 8:38-39). He yearns for our hearts, and I believe He longs for that glorious day when He will complete our transformation in heaven. He will clothe us with robes of righteousness and we will finally be whole and complete, not lacking anything. Imagine the joy that awaits us if we choose Him, friends. Let us fix our eyes on Him and walk alongside Him as we venture through earth's shadows. He promises we'll never be alone. (Psalm 23:4).Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-37494393818602127382014-04-29T13:00:00.000-05:002014-04-29T15:31:08.952-05:00Beauty and the BeholderI have the most precious, fun-loving, energetic, adorable, smart, caring, sweet, ornery 23 month old niece in the whole world, and yes, I am biased. No, we're of no blood relation, but when she runs up to me, arms waving in the air, yelling, "Nea nea, hold you!" blood means nothing. She's won my heart, and I'll forever be her auntie.<br />
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This adored niece of mine has taught me quite a lot about life in her short time span thus far. Through her eyes, the world is pure and full of potential. Love is clean and laughter is genuine, just as it should be. She is the epitome of all things lovely.<br />
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Today, as we endeavored through a two and a half hour morning marathon process of relatively simple tasks like showering, dressing, and general hygiene, she said three of the most prized words I've ever heard:<br />
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<em>Nea nea, so pretty! Nea nea, so pretty!</em><br />
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For clarity's sake, I didn't consider her words prized because they stroked my ego or embellished my vanity. In that moment, I can assure you I fit no widely accepted definition of beauty, if any definition at all. My hair resembled that of Albert Einstein, my breath smelled like something out of a horror story, and I didn't have the first stitch of make-up covering my less than perfect skin...<br />
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..but maybe that's the point. Her little 23 month old mind isn't tainted by the North American definition of beauty that fades with a washcloth. She isn't yet stained by a culture that values attraction over attributes. Her perception isn't defined by cheap standards, but she recognizes beautiful things in a raw, unfiltered form that I wish I could comprehend. <br />
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She can't articulate that by which she measures beauty, but if she could, I imagine it might be something like this: Beauty is love, snuggling, playing with rocks, sharing half eaten food, and giving a thousand and two kisses. Beauty is the cat licking her paw, the weeds growing along the sidewalk, and a thousand other things that capture her attention and engage her senses. Love isn't a vocabulary lesson to this precious child, but rather an active and growing feeling in her heart that isn't bruised, broken, or jaded. <br />
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I think we can all learn something from this oversimplified reality. No, I don't think we have to abandoned cosmetics or start wearing around potato sacks to grasp accurate beauty standards, but I think we ought to examine the what, who, and how of our own adopted, internal specifications of beauty and challenge the voices in our minds that lie. We owe it to ourselves, our friends, our siblings, and our children to expand our definitions beyond that which is temporal. Seek out truth, my friends.<br />
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"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye."<br />
-Miss Piggy, The MuppetsLindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-56587997503198548072014-04-17T13:36:00.000-05:002014-04-17T13:48:23.312-05:00Music and JesusHave you ever really considered music? If you asked my opinion, I would tell you that I think music is one of the most beautiful expressions of the human language. It encompasses moods, conquers emotions, and unites strangers; it can lift spirits and break through even the most rugged of hearts. Music speaks to people, and when there aren't any other appropriate words, sometimes a song can say it all.<br />
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Yesterday afternoon I was driving all around town, clinging to any shred of sanity I had left. I had worship music playing quietly through my stereo, though I wasn't much engaged. I got caught at a red light that I didn't have time for and the following song lyrics demanded my attention:<br />
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<em>Lord, reign in me.</em><br />
<em>Reign in your power.</em><br />
<em>Over all my dreams, in my darkest hour.</em><br />
<em>You are the Lord, of all I am.</em><br />
<em>Won't you reign in me again?</em><br />
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This song is probably older than I am, and I've heard it close to a bazillion times; even so, it stopped me in my tracks. It's easy for the believer to ask for the Lord's reign when times are good, life is going exactly according to our human plans, our dreams our big, our bank accounts flourishing, and we don't have a single scenario before us that would require a trust walk. It is, however, not so easy when the opposite is true and we're walking through our darkest hours. Maybe, just maybe, that's when we need this song the most.<br />
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<em><strong>Lord, reign in me.</strong> </em>Yes, by all means, because even my best laid plans are fizzling. I need your authority to guide my life. I know your reign is far better.<br />
<strong><em>Reign in your power. </em></strong>I feel powerless, but I know you have conquered all. Whatever today brings and despite the situations I'm facing, you are greater still.<br />
<strong><em>Over all my dreams, in my darkest hour. </em></strong>Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death... Lord, I need you.<br />
<strong><em>You are the Lord, of all I am. </em></strong>The good, the bad, and the ugly, I give it to you. I am yours. Do what you will. Use me where you can. I may be chipped and cracked and nearly broken, but I am still your vessel. <br />
<strong><em>Won't you reign in me again? </em></strong>And again, and again, and again. <em>I need you, oh I need you. Every hour, I need you.</em><br />
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I don't know about any of you reading this blog, but I don't always feel very spiritual when I'm in the midst of a battle, or battles, as sometimes the case may be, but it's refreshing to know that I don't war alone. It's also encouraging to know that I can sit at an over-timed traffic light and whisper five lines of quiet trust and know the God of the universe hears my utterances. The best news yet is that He'll hear your calls of desperation, too. He's waiting... <br />
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Happy Easter, my friends!Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-1917081241132593902014-03-31T16:37:00.003-05:002014-03-31T16:37:34.650-05:00Our most valuable assetsHi readers,<br />
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I'm writing with a heavy heart today, but after much pondering, I think what I have to say must be spoken, or written, anyways.<br />
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This past weekend, I was taking one of my favorite three-year-olds to the local park for a few hours. It was a beautiful afternoon, and I couldn't fathom staying indoors all day. As I was standing at the base of the play equipment looking up at him, I felt someone grab at my mid-section. I glanced down and behind me to find a small boy who I'd guess to be 4 or 5 years old with his arms wrapped around my legs. <br />
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Surprised, I started quizzing the blue-eyed beauty who was dressed in pajamas and smelled worse than my dog after she rolls in the mud. His answers were more heart-wrenching with each question I asked. The truth I gleaned from our short exchange made me sick to my stomach. <br />
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He wanted nothing from me but attention, and it brightened his face to know someone was watching him climb up the biggest slide in the park. Eventually, he asked me to hold him. Without any thought, I picked up the child, grabbed the one entrusted to my care by the hand, and we started towards grandma, who was not in the least interested in our exchange. She saw us walking towards her and yelled, "Put him down! He's only a womanizing bastard like his father," and simply went back to her earth-shattering phone conversation. <br />
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"A womanizing bastard like his father? <em>Really? He's only a child!!!" </em>I thought to myself. Any words I had to say weren't even remotely appropriate for the little ears that surrounded me, so I said nothing in that moment. Instead, I turned back around with her grandson in my arms, held him tightly, and said, "Honey, you're not a bastard and you don't have to be like your daddy at all. You are precious, do you understand?" He was quiet. I wanted nothing more than to take him home, give him a bath, put him in clean clothes, feed him actual food, and let love wash over his little heart until he actually felt wanted. Unfortunately for him, the law wasn't in either of our favor. <br />
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The afternoon carried on, and finally, grandma whisked him away up the hill and out of sight. Nothing I had to say changed her mind, and to her, that child was nothing more than nuisance. That boy was crying out for help that day, and yet he still left as a neglected, and most probably, abused child. The law, the system, the state, his sperm and egg donors, his blood family, and myself all failed the kid. That's a hard pill to swallow.<br />
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Where do we go from here? To a world where child abuse and neglect didn't exist, I wish. Instead, let me leave you with some food for thought. <br />
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First of all, anyone that might hurt a child will answer for their actions. If not in this life, most certainly in the next. I know the heart of God breaks when children are treated like trash, and I know there is great healing that can be had by any broken person, including the discarded, unwanted, abused, and unloved. <br />
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Secondly, treasure the babies around you, whether they're 3 days, 3 years, or 30 years old. God hasn't blessed with me children yet. If He'd give me the go-ahead, I'd have half a dozen stair-steppers, but I'm still waiting. All things fair and that being said, love the ones around you. Kids, grand kids, god-children, nieces, nephews, neighbor kids, school kids, the secretary's kids, whoever. I'm not saying raise them (unless their yours, of course), but<u> love</u> them. <u>Value</u> them. <u>Respect</u> them.<u> Stick up</u> for them. Give them the time of day. Fat, thin, stupid, smart, impaired, fully-functioning, whatever, they are worth it. <em>Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight...</em><br />
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Finally, do something to change the status quo. How can you, an ordinary, overbooked citizen make a change?<br />
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1. Start with your own family first. If you've made mistakes with your children, make it right. Say "I'm sorry." Be the agent of change in your own home. Quit bullying, stop talking trash, and don't take a single moment for granted. Your kids (no matter their age) don't need perfect parents, but they do deserve your best efforts. <br />
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2. Vote for politicians that favor children's rights and common sense laws. Have no misunderstanding and make no mistake, I'm not talking about stripping parents of their right to parent, discipline, educate, make medical decisions, or the like. I'm talking about providing basic human rights of safety and care to those children who aren't old enough or able enough to speak up or fight for themselves. Let's do away with all of the red tape, the thousand foster home placements, the million second chances given to free-will adults who have no desire to change. Anyone can create a baby, but not everyone should raise one. <br />
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3. Volunteer. There are countless organizations in Jasper County alone that need your help supporting our youth. Maybe you have a half hour once a week to have lunch with a grade-school child. Call the admin building; they have a spot for you! Maybe you have three afternoons a week to be a TREK coach; call the district and you can start tomorrow. Maybe you have no time at all, but you could easily swing donating a package of diapers to the Children's Haven or a box of cookies to Bright Futures so a child can celebrate their birthday with their classmates. Nobody can do it all, but everybody can do something.<br />
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4. Actively fight against injustice. Stand up to the b**ches at the park that think it's okay to call their young grandsons "womanizing bastards." Don't sit in silence when you see a child being neglected or abused. Report said instances, even if your voice isn't heard or well accepted the first time, the second time, or even the tenth time. Eventually, ignoring you, and more important ignoring them, won't be an option. <br />
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The end. <br />
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<em>Safety and security don't just happen, they are the result of collective consensus and public investment. We owe our children, the most vulnerable citizens in our society, a life free of violence and fear.</em> - Nelson Mandela<br />
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<em>A person's a person, no matter how small. -</em>Dr. Seuss <br />
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<em>A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove...but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child. </em>- Forest Witcraft Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-18892763997203478622014-03-13T11:16:00.002-05:002014-03-13T11:17:29.890-05:00Delightful DetailsI witnessed the scariest phenomena last week. While partaking in my $0.99 daily dose of raspberry flavored Sonic water, I watched a semi truck make a left turn through a red light. He was succeeded by not one, not two, not even three, but eight additional vehicles who followed with reckless abandon. It took a near head-on collision for anyone to recognize their error.<br />
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I am not here to attack less than perfect drivers. If there were a club, I could certainly chair it. I am, however, motivated to implore you not to get so caught up in the big picture (I've gotta make it to my next appointment!) that you miss all the delightful details (red lights) that life has to offer.<br />
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It is so inexplicably easy to overbook, over plan, and overexert our schedules that often times, life seems rushed. We can get so caught up in the deadlines that we neglect the ever-so-important details.<br />
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Last year, I was caring for a precious four year old who loved nature and all things beautiful. One Sunday morning we were running late for church, and since I oversee the doughnut ministry, timeliness is next to godliness. As I hurried little man out of his car seat and into the store, he was drawn to have his weekly exchange with the elderly people greeter (tick tock, tick tock), investigate the reasoning behind the crying child (who cares, he's not <i>our</i> crying child), and seek out the doughnuts with the prettiest design (oh please! what's wrong with good, ole fashioned plain doughnuts?) After what seemed like an eternity, we made it past the check-out lane and into the parking lot, only to stop, mid-hurried step, to gaze at a momma bird camped out underneath a car feeding her babies off a piece of dropped bread (I am <i>really</i> out of patience now).<br />
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Settled in the car and flying to church, I was hit with the big whammy. "We should have stopped and gave that mommy bird some more food for her babies. What if nobody gives them food? The babies won't grow if they don't have food and the mommy will be sad." <br />
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The delightful details of life. So caught up in "big picture," I neglected the other puzzle-piece- portions of the day. No, the bird family probably wasn't going to starve because of my lack of time and bird seed, but the truth is, I wouldn't have even noticed the birds if it wasn't for an unhurried child with a big heart.<br />
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Let's up the ante. What else was I missing? What else do you miss? In the fast-paced chaos of life, it can be easy to overlook life's biggest blessings: our spouses, our children, our parents, our siblings, and even our friends. What about the beautiful world around us? Have you ever taken a few minutes to watch a sunrise or a sunset? How about a half hour to listen to a soothing spring rain? Ever gone hiking and noticed all the different shades of color amongst the trees, flowers, weeds, grass, or sky? Life is beautiful, and it's ours for the taking! <br />
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I leave you with a challenge: Set your eyes on the big picture and run towards your goals with everything you have, but don't neglect the moments. Seek out the delightful details, and be conscious of today. It's so worth it!<br />
<br />Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-316749852986495652013-12-16T12:21:00.001-06:002013-12-16T12:21:39.490-06:00It's time to set the record straight!I don't know what it is about Christmas time, but apparently, it's the "feel good" e-mail forward season of the year. I don't think I've seen newly written material in ten Christmases, but I digress... Out of duty (and procrastination for the real tasks at hand), I glace through most well meaning e-mails and sometimes I even send back a polite, "Merry Christmas" greeting. I figure it's the kind, Christmas-spirited thing to do.<br />
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However, today's blog isn't necessarily about my endless e-mails. It's about a much bigger problem- a downright lie- that's circulating around the world wide web, painting a false picture of who my God is.<br />
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In one form or another, I receive these stupid forwarded stories, poems, and verses about how God has sent abusive or hurtful people into someone's life, struck another with cancer, took a child's life in a car crash, etc., all in the name of, "teaching me life's greatest lesson," or "helping me redirect my focus on Him," or even, "so that I would know his unconditional comfort and peace." <br />
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WHAT?!?! I'm calling crap on all the above mentioned. Do these writers even read the Bible?! <br />
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It sickens me when I hear people talk about all the bad things God does to (insert lesson here), and saddens me when other Christians turn around and forward this junk to others, as if it were gospel truth. <br />
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<strong>I have a big, giant, newsflash of truth: God isn't a condemning, hurtful, or otherwise spiteful God. He is faithful and just, but that doesn't make Him mean or cruel.</strong> <br />
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"Well then why do bad things happen to good people, Lindsay?" "If God is so good, why is there so much evil in the world?" "If your God is so caring, then why oh why do innocent children suffer at the hand of the big, bad world everyday?" <br />
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We live in a fallen world, full of people making very bad free-will choices. Then there's Satan who runs around planet earth everyday, "seeking whom he may devour," (1 Peter 5:8) and even "accuses them (believers) before God day and night" (Revelation 12:10). This guy is relentless!! <br />
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We could even go a step further and describe our own shortcomings, some of which end in less-than-desirable consequences, but those consequences aren't God's fault.<br />
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Let's bring some truth to the table:<br />
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<em><strong>Romans 8:1- Therefore there is now <u>no condemnation</u> for those who are in Christ Jesus</strong>.</em> I could end my blog with this, and it would dispel all the above mentioned lies. God is not condemning. He doesn't send bad people, or bad diseases, or kill little kids to get back at anyone. Period. <br />
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<em><strong>James 1:13-17- Let no one say when he is tempted, "I am being tempted by God"; for God cannot be tempted by evil, and He Himself does not tempt anyone. But each one is tempted when he is carried and enticed by his own lust. Then when lust has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and when sin is accomplished, it brings forth death. Do not be deceived, by beloved brethren. Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow.</strong> </em>Think God is punishing you for sin? Or for ill-prioritizing? Or for not focusing on Him enough? Think again. God is a God of free-will. If you want to sin, sin. If you want to ignore Him, ignore Him. We're not robots and we can do as we wish, but we'll also pay for our own consequences. Again, not the equivalent of God-sent punishment.<br />
<strong><em>Galatians 6:7- Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, this he will also reap. </em></strong><br />
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<strong><em>John 10:10-11- The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. "I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd lays down His life for the sheep." </em></strong>Does this sound like a God who sends death? Yeah, I didn't think so either. Consider the source, my friends. <br />
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<strong><em>Psalms 34:17-19- The righteous cry, and the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all.</em></strong> I don't know everything there is to know about God, but I know He's not bipolar. He would not send tragedy in one moment so he could turn around comfort you in the next. <br />
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<strong><em>Psalm 23:1-6- The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You have anointed my head with oil; My cup overflows. Surely goodness and loving-kindness will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. </em></strong>This sounds like the qualities of a good Father to me. <br />
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<strong><em>Romans 8:37-39- But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. </em></strong>This is my grand finale. It also happens to be my favorite verse in the entire Bible, so I may be partial. Nothing can separate us. Nothing. No sickness, no disease, no death, no bankruptcy, no divorce, no hard times, no foreclosures, no wayward children. NOTHING.<br />
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God is a God of unconditional, unfailing, undeserved, unending love, and grace, and peace, and righteousness, and truth. I leave you with this reality so I can leave you with this challenge: Don't believe the lies of the world, and don't spread the lies of the world. Be a truth seeker and let love win!Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-12810656861584239862013-06-17T10:29:00.001-05:002013-06-17T10:29:40.443-05:00Julie and Julia vs. Lindsay and PinterestI, Lindsay Lee, am this day choosing of my own free will to take a wild and ridiculous plunge. I am going to <u><i>attempt</i></u> to learn how to cook... Sure, I can usually bake something edible if it comes out of a box with very detailed instructions, but aside from boiling water, that's the extent of my skills.<br />
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I'm not sure, but I think I may have woken up on the weird side of the bed. You know, that mouthy side that screams, "You now know the McAlisters, Panera, Soinc, and El Charro staff by name, and all those kids you juggle are probably getting tired of pizza and pancakes. Wake up, take out addict."<br />
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Pinterest is largely to blame for this endeavor. All those pins make Betty Crocker look like an amateur, while promising cookbook picture results in three simple steps. I guess I'll be the judge of that.<br />
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Thomas Edison failed a million times before he developed a working light bulb, so what's a few botched meals in my twenties? Here's to cooking, blanching, steaming, sauteing, browning, boiling, pan frying, eating, and a whole lot of dinner wine. I'm going to need it. Cheers!<br />
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Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-66094709678454076882013-05-29T12:08:00.000-05:002013-05-29T12:08:00.450-05:00The art of the juggleHave you ever told someone you were on your very last nerve, only to find out that you possess one hundred other nerves you've never dreamed of?<br />
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You know that moment when half the world seems to be against you and the other half claims it can't function without your immediate and uninterrupted attention? Yeah, I'm talking about <i>those </i>days...<br />
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For me, it's those mornings when I have two people in my office, I'm three phone calls back, fighting the payroll deadline, dealing in the international marketplace via e-mail, and then, just in time for the chaos, the insurance salesman drops in to chat about renewals. Oh, and did I mention the fax machine jammed and the ADT system went on the fritz (now, of course, the sheriff is in route to lecture me about proper use of the security system. He's going to have to take a number.).<br />
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It's the same story everywhere, just different characters. My mom friends balance kids, the check book, the dog, the dentist, and the UPS delivery man all while cooking a nutritious lunch for their clan <u>and</u> the neighbor kids they offered to watch when life was calmer. Then there's my retired grandma friends who volunteer for three different organizations, keep a pristine yard, nurture a luscious garden, and still keep lunch dates with the red hat society. Heck, even my rock star friends have to manage tour dates, book signings, voice lessons, and VIP cocktails. The truth is, nobody escapes the demands of life.<br />
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So, how do we cope? How do we make it to 5 o'clock, nap time, the evening rerun of Jeopardy, or the next debut album? I have the answer! Are you ready.........? <br />
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<b>We do whatever it takes. </b><br />
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Right, I know. That answer was a let down, but there is truth in simplicity. I don't know how to tell you to climb your mountain, but I can cheer you on during the climb. Life happens in seconds, minutes, and hours. Those measurements add up to days, and before you know it, twenty years has passed in a flash. When I'm 105 years old, I'm not going to think back to the 29th day of May, 2013 and think about how frustrating modern technology can be. You're not going to think back to the time when the kids were young and you fed them happy meals for a week straight because you never could find time to get to the grocery store. <br />
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So, here's to you, fellow jugglers. Embrace the moment, and cherish <i>this</i> day. After all, we're never promised tomorrow.Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-48493399635635218882013-04-11T11:07:00.000-05:002013-04-11T11:07:58.978-05:00What is love?The idea of love has long baffled me.<br />
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We live in a society where love is often not distinguished from like, obsession, or enjoyment, and the word itself is thrown around so frequently that it may often be void of any true value. There's an word usage lesson here, but that's not what I'm asking you to see.<br />
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Recently, I bumped into an old acquaintance (Walmart, of all places) I hadn't seen in ten years. We chatted for a minute or two and as we walked away, this person hugs me and says, "Oh I just love you so much!" <i>Really? </i><br />
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Or my strung out neighbors, for example. Every Friday night they consume too many illegal substances, he beats the tar out of her, she throws glass bottles at him, and two hours later they're caressing and proclaiming their vibrant, undying love. I beg to differ.<br />
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I can accept that humanity is flawed, and I understand we often make mistakes and even hurt the ones we love. I'm not attacking mistakes, I'm waging war on empty words. I'm challenging you to love those around you with more than your mouth. Remember that age old phrase your mother taught you?<br />
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"Actions speak louder than words, honey."<br />
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Well, mama was right. Love is a verb. "An action requiring your <u>involvement</u> and your <u>active participation</u>," as my last Pinterest find pointed out. I'm so tired of "I love you" being a obligated phrase people feel compelled to recite. Let your yes be yes and your no be no, and let your words stand behind your actions.<br />
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When we put our money where our mouth is, our families will heal. Our marriages will blossom and our children will trust us. Let love win.<br />
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<i>Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.</i><br />
1 Corinthians 13:4-8<i> </i> <br />
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<br />Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08062489773547679832noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2696730148188052469.post-79971368984662828272013-04-03T10:24:00.001-05:002013-04-03T10:24:31.354-05:00Way back from yesteryearI'm working on new material for you, my lovely readers. Until then, here's one of my favorite pieces from way back. Thankfully, none of this nonsense came to fruition, as she was later diagnosed with, "fake pregnancy." Who knew dogs could lactate due to a hormone imbalance? Anyhow, enjoy.<b> </b><br />
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<b>There's pregnant, and then there's porker!</b><br />
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Did you know that large breeds of dogs can have up to TWELVE puppies? Twelve. That's "doce" in Spanish, in case you didn't catch the sheer terror in my voice the first time around.<br />
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Much to my shock and dismay, Precious hasn't been so sweetly. We had a deal; if she kept her dress down I would spare her the pain of the, "snippety snip." Well, the joke's on me...at least until it's time to deliver.<br />
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Since I've had time to adjust to the fact I'm about to have a dozen more costly dependents and had to can all my pending travel arrangements, I have finally let minimal excitement set in. I mean, when is the last time you saw an ugly puppy?<br />
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In lieu of recent revelations, I've made significant changes to senorita preggo's daily diet, such as a necessary increase in caloric consumption. I've found even the most finicky eat has a soft spot for dog food smothered in <u>warm</u> cream of chicken soup. However, if it's cold, you can forget it.<br />
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The porker on the other hand, doesn't have the first qualm about eating three times a day. In fact, she's lobbying for a midnight snack, but I'm standing my ground. Under normal circumstances, it takes an act of Congress to get the fat little angle out of bed any time past breakfast, but make no mistake about it, break out the chicken soup and she is on her way.<br />
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So there you have it. Pregnant, porker, and soon to be pauper. Life is good.<br />
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