tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8255444435835760342024-03-21T17:02:05.210-07:00The Great Thomas AdventureKimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-18290168699031086432021-05-11T07:15:00.000-07:002021-05-11T07:15:06.156-07:00Run To The Father<p> Everything within me wants to start this out with “It’s been
a really difficult year…”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But then the logical side of me says…”Well, duh.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">EVERYONE has experienced some level of change to their regularly
scheduled programming in the last 365 days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No one has been exempt.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So, I say all that to say….It’s been a really difficult year
for #TeamThomas.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Last March, when the world essentially stopped turning, we
were smack dab in the middle of buying our first home.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was a NIGHTMARE.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Seriously.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have PTSD.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve half decided that I want to be buried in the back yard,
because I NEVER want to go through that process again.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">During this, one of the most stressful and trying times of
my life, this extrovert was devastated at the fact that I wasn’t allowed to go
anywhere or see anyone or be near friends or go to church.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At first, like most churches, we tried to stay connected via
online platforms. However, after your 50<sup>th</sup> Zoom call of the week,
that gets old really quickly.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It doesn’t help that I’m REALLY slow to process emotions
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(and that’s IF I let myself feel them)</span>. So all this anger, and frustration, and
hurt, and distrust that I was experiencing made me feel like I was drowning. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was so easy to check out and say that I needed “down time”
to avoid another web conference that left me feeling even more isolated than
before. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The novel idea of church in your living room was fun, and
exciting, and innovative at first. But I couldn’t maintain the momentum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Watching the service as a family became “well…we
will at least watch the sermon, even if we skipped the worship portion.” That
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(not so)</span> slowly morphed into…”We can all watch it later….on our own time.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Who. Was. I. Kidding?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. I was starting
to believe that we were never going to be allowed to live a ‘normal’ life
again.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All this time away from the people that spur me toward righteousness,
and all this time away from a genuine connection with God caused a breakdown in
my soul.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Things that hadn’t been temptations in decades were slowly
creeping into the edges of my mind. Old struggles became current struggles which
became downright disobedience.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m not proud of that.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But I’m not surprised either.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The pull of conviction wasn’t lost on me, but it’s easy to
stop listening when you turn the volume down.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I stopped trying to hear from God. I actually didn’t want to
hear from him because I knew how far I had wandered.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So I hid.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I kept the volume down.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I cut him off from speaking to me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Shame is real. And even when you KNOW that you’re in the
wrong, and even when you KNOW that you should run back to Jesus, shame tells
you that you can’t.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When our church opened back up, and we could attend services
again we went.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But I felt empty and hollow.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I knew I needed to repent, but I was…scared.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I grew up with a dad who was exhausted all the time. That
exhaustion manifested in frustration and anger. Sometimes it felt like walking
through a minefield because you weren’t guaranteed what you were going to get.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(As an adult I look back and realize I could give you 8
millions reasons why the exhaustion was completely valid and where the
frustration and anger came from, but that’s his story, not mine.)</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Because of these interactions with my earthly father, I was
scared to approach my heavenly father.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I knew who I was when I walked in relationship with him. I
also knew who I was now. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was scared that God would tell me all the things that I
already knew. That I had failed. That I was weak. That I couldn’t possibly be
used in the capacity that I had been before. And I knew actually hearing those
things would break my heart.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I got to the point that the loneliness and isolation that I
was feeling was starting to physically affect me. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So I turned the volume up.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I turned to my heavenly father and braced for impact.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Instead of being met with disappointment, and shame, and
regret, and harsh words I was met with:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“My girl. I’ve missed you so much. I’m so very glad that you’ve
chosen to have a relationship with me. Come, crawl into my arms and let me tell
you how very much I love you.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So I did.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I allowed myself to be embraced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To be loved on and nurtured. And to be sung
over.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Instead of hearing all the things that I already knew, God
chose to speak over me the things that I’d forgotten.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That I’m his.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That I’m precious.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That I’m beautiful.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That he adores me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That he loves me….no matter what.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This past Sunday I was able to lift my hands in worship
because they weren’t weighted down by chains.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was able to sing at the top of my lungs and allow my soul
to be overcome with joy in the presence of the Father. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was able to speak truth into the life of a friend.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was able to remember who God is and be in awe of how he
chooses to use us.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All I had to do was turn around.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I run to the Father. I fall into grace. I’m done with the
hiding, no reason to wait. My heart needs a surgeon. My soul needs a friend. So
I’ll run to the Father again, and again, and again, and again.” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">– Cody Carnes, Run to the Father<o:p></o:p></p>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-46879256551278650712021-04-19T12:18:00.006-07:002021-04-19T12:18:22.041-07:00Shout To The Lord<p> This weekend I watched “A Week Away” on Netflix.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If you were raised on contemporary Christian music in the 90’s
then this will hit you RIGHT in the feels. Think High School Musical meets
Christian Youth Camp <span style="font-size: x-small;">(there’s even paintball and a blob!)</span>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yes, it’s a musical…BUT the unexpected twist is that the
music is dripping with nostalgia from artists like Steven Curtis Chapman and
Amy Grant. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Y’all, I died…it was so epically cheesy and amazing.)</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This walk down memory lane inspired me to scrounge Spotify
for the music of my youth. I’m now armed with a playlist that my 17 year old
self would have DIED for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">(And I don’t
even have to have a 5 disc CD changer!)</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Listening to these tunes on repeat today has made my heart
happy. Each song reminds me of cruising around Panama City, Florida in my blue
Geo Prism with all the windows rolled down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For me, it sounds like summer camp with <a href="https://www.world-changers.net/find-a-project" target="_blank">World Changers</a>, and Vanilla
Malts from Sonic, concerts in our small town civic center (where the floor
almost collapsed) and the endless miles that we put on Big Red and Old Blue
(our church busses).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">One song hit me especially hard. Just like smells can
trigger strong memories, so can music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And this one nearly knocked me on my butt.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was 1997. Summer. Somewhere between Peoria, Illinois and
Panama City, Florida.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our youth group had joined with World Changers and had spent
the week working on homes, replacing roofs, loving on people and their pets,
taking showers in a trailer, and sleeping on the floor. We were getting ready
to head home, and were visiting a local church. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The song “Shout To The Lord” had been chasing me all summer.
I felt like it was EVERYWHERE.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But on this day, God revealed himself to me through this
song in a way like he had never before. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">You see, I wasn’t in a good place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was an awkward teenager <span style="font-size: x-small;">(I mean, I’ve still
not grown out of my awkward phase)</span>. I had just come out of a nearly year long
relationship with a boy I genuinely thought I was going to marry. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Y’all, it
wasn’t a pretty breakup…)</span> Did I mention that he was in my youth group?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Uggh. Kill. Me. Now.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Additionally, things weren’t going super well in my family.
There were some legal issues with my little brother <span style="font-size: x-small;">(and that’s his story…not mine)</span>.
All of these circumstances had left me feeling isolated and alone. I didn’t
feel like I was “part of the group” <span style="font-size: x-small;">(I know, typical teenage girl)</span>. I was lonely
and just needed someone to SEE me. And no one did. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But God.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In a church of thousands, he bent down from heaven and held
my sad little heart in his hands.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He reminded me that in everything he is holy, and he is
present, and he is aware and not a single thing in the universe can compare to
him.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As I sang that chorus from the depths of my soul I was
telling my Jesus and my savior that there is none like him. In that moment he
was my comfort and my shelter and a tower of refuge and strength.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As tears streamed down my face I promised that with every
breath and all that I am I would never stop praising him because nothing
compares to the promises that I have in him.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This moment – this meeting with Jesus in the valley would
carry me through the next 8-12 months as God called my family away from the
church we had attended my entire life. Once again Jesus held my broken heart in
his hands as we dealt with rumors started by people that we thought were
friends and a new loneliness as it became clear that we had just been another
family in the pew, rather than people who were invited into the church
community’s lives.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It sustained me as I attempted to find myself in this new
group of youth <span style="font-size: x-small;">(and even through never really feeling like I belonged there
either)</span>. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What I didn’t realize at the time, and what 17 year old me
could have never foreseen, was that this moment where God clearly lifted my
eyes to him was a process that would be repeated frequently over the next two
decades. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Each time I began drowning in my circumstances he reminded
me of the promise that I made to sing for joy at the work of his hands and
praise the wonders of his mighty love. <o:p></o:p></p>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-22263181511294062992020-11-18T07:32:00.001-08:002020-11-18T07:32:36.986-08:00Only The Good<p> Maaaaannnn……It has been A. Year.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I think that most people would agree that 2020 has been…well…a
dumpster fire.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It’s so easy to look back over the year and mourn for all
the things that were lost or completely different than our expectations.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Concerts, competitions, and vacations cancelled.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Countless hours lost trying to get refunds for services that
could no longer be performed.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Trying to focus on a church service in your pajamas from
your couch.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Never. Ending. Zoom. Meetings.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Isolation.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Depression.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Fear.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">By now, everyone in the world should be well acquainted with
the five stages of grief, because in some way, shape, or form, we have all been
on a grief roller coaster since March.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Focusing on the good has to be a conscious decision.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A year ago my last grandparent went to be with Jesus.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We….didn’t have an amazing relationship. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It would be easy for me to remember the time that we
screamed at each other and almost ruined family vacation. Or the multiple
comments that she made about myself and my kiddos that hurt feelings.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But…<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I could also remember that she would always let us help in
the kitchen – even when we were less than helpful. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or how she always made sure that I got the center biscuit,
and that my brother had a spot of sweet potato casserole without pecans.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or how she sewed me a bathing suit out of one of her old
ones because I hadn’t packed one for our visit. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or how she would let us decorate cool-whip lids with
leftover icing and then eat it all off. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or how she was friends with LITERALLY everyone. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or how she served in the church nursery with the babies
until she couldn’t anymore.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or how she volunteered to go as a chaperone on a youth trip
because they needed one more, and she didn’t have any plans that week.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or how she was the most adventurous 70 year old ever. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or how she wasn’t afraid to take a trip by herself because
she didn’t need anyone else to have a good time. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or how she sewed my wedding dress <span style="font-size: x-small;">(complete with 10,000
beads)</span>. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I could say that she was stubborn and bull headed, or I
could acknowledge that she was strong-willed and determined, which are
qualities that women of her generation earned the right to be.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I could say that she was stuck in an antiquated mindset, but
then I remember how she loved on inner city kiddos and sang them songs about
Jesus.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I could say that she wasn’t my biggest fan, but then I
remember that she made sure to tell my mom the things she wanted me to have
after she was gone because I was the one who “made her a grandma.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So today, as I’m piping egg yolk mixture into boiled eggs I’m
thankful that she taught me how to use<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a
piping bag and a star tip.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And as I’m enjoying Thanksgiving lunch with my work family I’m
thankful that she passed down her recipe of sweet potato casserole <span style="font-size: x-small;">(that I had
to make a double batch of because so many people requested it)</span>.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And next week, for family Thanksgiving, I’ll make Apple
Salad <span style="font-size: x-small;">(in the green bowl, because it doesn’t taste the same in any other bowl)</span>
and I’ll be thankful that who she was has influenced who I am.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPsLgP45OdA3nyp3pdbWYCqErxQY_Np-6VkSjzXNhsMLL1Y0iMULvnAi3pF4GSS7Bb3k2R3vxjyIuZ0H5mxDJB33JfcHwh1fE6JK3Sorp333bcln8zocw5ZHOALBCwXnS83RaY-xXvawGB/s960/mema.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPsLgP45OdA3nyp3pdbWYCqErxQY_Np-6VkSjzXNhsMLL1Y0iMULvnAi3pF4GSS7Bb3k2R3vxjyIuZ0H5mxDJB33JfcHwh1fE6JK3Sorp333bcln8zocw5ZHOALBCwXnS83RaY-xXvawGB/s320/mema.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-34635229861436637152020-03-31T10:16:00.002-07:002020-03-31T10:16:58.156-07:00EssentialIt’s official.<br />
I’m essential.<br />
Well, at least the government thinks so.<br />
<br />
This pandemic has thrown us all into situations we never really thought possible.<br />
<br />
All of a sudden, in addition to being the primary earner for our family, I’m the only one who actually has to get out of bed in the morning.<br />
<br />
Mark is furloughed until further notice and Camber and Cooper are now home-schooled for who knows how long.<br />
<br />
It’s weird.<br />
<br />
Everything is so weird.<br />
<br />
There are those who feel like life should carry on as normal and still pack their teacup Yorkie into their purse and head to the grocery store for their weekly shopping.<br />
<br />
There are those who are convinced that this is how humanity meets its maker, and are hoarding toilet paper <span style="font-size: x-small;">(why though?)</span> and not leaving their homes at all.<br />
<br />
Then there are those who realize the extent of this pandemic, but still have to carry on as normal as possible because our livelihoods depend on it.<br />
<br />
I mentioned to a friend yesterday that I feel like I have a very different experience that the majority of the universe right now.<br />
<br />
If you’re also “essential” I bet you do to.<br />
<br />
We’re torn.<br />
<br />
We are SO. VERY. THANKFUL to have a job.<br />
<br />
Yet, we’re jealous of those who “get” to stay home during this time.<br />
<br />
To be honest, this has been one of the most stressful seasons of my life.<br />
<br />
We’re in the process of buying a house. We have no idea when Mark will go back to work. Our 20th Anniversary trip to Europe has been cancelled, but we’re not entirely sure if we’ll get any of that money back – because travel insurance doesn’t cover pandemic. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Don’t even get me started on the fact that we LITERALLY are not allowed in the countries that we were supposed to travel to)</span>.<br />
<br />
At work I’ve coordinated the layoffs of over 2,000 people. We tried to make it as seamless as possible, but I speak to about 100 people a day who are LIVID that the state is taking so long to process their request <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Did I mention I don’t work for the state?). </span><br />
<br />
I get home to a house full of introverts that are THRIVING because they aren’t being forced out in public.<br />
<br />
Our tiny apartment is covered in boxes because we’re supposed to close on our house today <span style="font-size: x-small;">(which likely won’t happen #ThanksCorona)</span>.<br />
<br />
Our dog is having a nervous breakdown at the clutter.<br />
<br />
And I have about 900 ZOOM meetings a week to “try and stay connected.”<br />
During which I get to hear all about how everyone has all this extra emotional and mental energy and how they have never felt better or more connected to their families, and how they are organizing, and doing yard work, and getting everyone on a schedule. They’re cooking wholesome and nutritious foods and working out and sun bathing and reading and day drinking. Their skin is glowing and their hair is made of sunshine <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Ok, I may have made that up). </span><br />
<br />
Meanwhile my stomach is in knots. I’m a giant ball of anxiety and have said on more than one occasion “I’m not ok.”<br />
<br />
Yet – I keep on.<br />
<br />
Now, I get that this sounds like a pity party complete with a full round of “I guess I’ll go eat worms.”
<br />
<br />
And yes, it kinda is.<br />
<br />
But more than that – I want you to be aware of what some of us are walking through.<br />
<br />
So – I say all that to say – check on your “essential” friends. They may not be ok.
Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-26023241832671257432019-01-15T15:07:00.002-08:002019-01-15T15:07:28.101-08:00Now And Then<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 11.75pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">An interesting “aging challenge” has popped up all over Facebook
recently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 11.75pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 11.75pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The “challenge” is to post your very first Facebook profile
picture and your most recent selfie to see how you’ve changed over the years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 11.75pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 11.75pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Of course – there’s always ‘those people’ who remind the rest of
us that in the last 10-15 years technology has come a long way. So while we may
be deluded into thinking that we’re not aging we’re really just reaping the
benefits of advanced technology.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">I still thought it would be fun to see the difference.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So – Here I am. 2006 to 2018.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb66ikhZ8CoMgCnixD0c3iJ2qjX4n3OYEi5us3guIc1aMqSIA1bLUuM2GWHg1uROM0QuXbhuaus0lXbwSa2VZdfSNyLD4YdERYAng2vss1IbNmv0jTnB6lHIVTgx0TU_Lr502CMb16_LVG/s1600/2006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="526" data-original-width="424" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb66ikhZ8CoMgCnixD0c3iJ2qjX4n3OYEi5us3guIc1aMqSIA1bLUuM2GWHg1uROM0QuXbhuaus0lXbwSa2VZdfSNyLD4YdERYAng2vss1IbNmv0jTnB6lHIVTgx0TU_Lr502CMb16_LVG/s200/2006.jpg" width="160" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMGo5je_skfd3X-skBlhZRa3cGv7Pix3NHdb_AeIGvh9bkv9rFRdFUQCSzRuqoV1lnphPdSXnSBbn0MRPy-_nBVREmIjNW_tf2qC8KgQLhuwVZikrB-QmsQSXIudSol0VemFdFRhNjmLB/s1600/2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMGo5je_skfd3X-skBlhZRa3cGv7Pix3NHdb_AeIGvh9bkv9rFRdFUQCSzRuqoV1lnphPdSXnSBbn0MRPy-_nBVREmIjNW_tf2qC8KgQLhuwVZikrB-QmsQSXIudSol0VemFdFRhNjmLB/s200/2018.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I will say – I don’t think I’ve aged terribly. It seems
that I’ve learned how to wear makeup and groom my eyebrows – but it’s what you
can’t see that is really astounding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That girl on the left doesn’t know that there is so much more.
More life, more to experience, more to fall in love with. She has no idea what
her eyes will see, or where her feet will walk, or how much love can fit in her
heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She has no idea who she is, or how her day to day life fits into
God’s bigger picture for her. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She can’t see the perseverance that is being
fashioned, the groundwork for her children’s faith that she and her husband are
laying, or how the ability to be content is being grown.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She can’t see how “just being a stay at home mom” is even
remotely effective in the grand scheme of the universe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She sees no end in sight when it comes to her degree. She
doesn’t think that they will ever be financially “ok.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She is overwhelmed with having littles. She has no idea that
everyone who ever told her that “they grow up too fast” was SO.RIGHT.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She doesn’t fully realize that God has a perfect plan. She is
desperate for community, although she wouldn’t be able to recognize that
desire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She has no idea that in a few short years her life will
drastically change.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She will sell everything she owns and embark on an adventure of
the best kind. She will learn, and grow, and see God move in a way she never
really thought possible. She will have her heart and her dreams crushed with a
single sentence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She will wrestle with God. She will watch her husband become a
shell of the man he was. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She will pray, and cry, and pray some more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She will remind herself over and over again that God’s call on
her life doesn’t come with an expiration date.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She will move half way across the country just to find her
“tribe.” Although she doesn’t know that’s why.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They will love her, and encourage her, and continue to pour into
her even when she is a brat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They will pet her hair and tell her she’s pretty when life is
just too much and pain is just too real.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They will remind her that she loves Jesus when it seems that she
has forgotten.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They will turn her eyes to the cross and to the one who holds
everything in the palm of his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They will council her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They will laugh with her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They will cry with her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They will stitch together all the things that have been ripped
apart. They will shine a light into the dark places and declare that the enemy
has no holds on her anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They will help her heal – and she won’t even realize it’s
happening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They will help shape the woman on the right out of the broken
pieces. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-28091497739525035062018-12-27T18:38:00.001-08:002018-12-27T18:38:53.169-08:00Tap, Tap, Tap....is this thing still on?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My last blog post was July 27, 2017.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I can assure you that was no accident.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The last 18 months of our lives have been a roller coaster
that even Cedar Point wouldn’t want in their park. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(However, those stories are
deep, and personal, and painful, and won’t be shared with the world)</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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So – Here’s an update on #TeamThomas before we slide into
2019:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-size: large;">Mark</span><o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
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Mark is the local <s>drug</s> coffee dealer. He’s been a
barista at the Starbucks in our local mall for over two years. <o:p></o:p></div>
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He loves his job and the people that he works with! <o:p></o:p></div>
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Our friends and family love the fact that we don’t drink
coffee, therefore have about a million pounds per year to give away!<o:p></o:p></div>
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His goal for 2019 is to ride in the <a href="https://secure.nationalmssociety.org/site/TR?fr_id=30201&pg=entry">MS150</a>. So you can look
forward to us doing some fundraising for that in the near future.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6yKmi9Uz2n2OA4uVZ6FBica_O5aJyUmZ2t3jwBNw-6HeNn-wtkRsFLtjUy01YrLHaRgOuPjYVnIMS4EhoER8ZWg0lF8RoE3R_9WNrXr65eMIUCzsbVXQoNtu4iAhxuE0DUDaPOrczFg9/s1600/Mark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6yKmi9Uz2n2OA4uVZ6FBica_O5aJyUmZ2t3jwBNw-6HeNn-wtkRsFLtjUy01YrLHaRgOuPjYVnIMS4EhoER8ZWg0lF8RoE3R_9WNrXr65eMIUCzsbVXQoNtu4iAhxuE0DUDaPOrczFg9/s320/Mark.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cutest barista around!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">Camber</span></u></b></div>
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Camber started high school in August of 2017. I’d love to
say that she adapted well and that sunshine and roses fly out of her butt on
the daily….<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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However, the transition was…rough. Weeping and gnashing of
teeth actually sounds like a fun vacation compared to hell that we walked
through with this child.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Thankfully, after about a million and one ‘Come to Jesus’
talks, the waves have subsided and the sun is shining again.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The one constant for her these last couple of years has been
band.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgruCnXfqDcjkkzYkGJHDsa_INsuZG5AZPs_AsQdaJMlo8hPa2dSxKqxenDm9JDETRwIsoMBAwg7br6mypm98x5Cg9Nt3IovH6IIRJR0J3H4ajsRC54icQRRtKfP3X1_ahktSvLnCjImzQF/s1600/Band+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgruCnXfqDcjkkzYkGJHDsa_INsuZG5AZPs_AsQdaJMlo8hPa2dSxKqxenDm9JDETRwIsoMBAwg7br6mypm98x5Cg9Nt3IovH6IIRJR0J3H4ajsRC54icQRRtKfP3X1_ahktSvLnCjImzQF/s320/Band+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clear Brook High School Marching Band 2017-2018</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Like momma and dad before her, she is a band nerd! <span style="font-size: x-small;">(We have
waited our WHOLE lives for this)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgop_KFc-HlbxIIdbqidz9vn_4-Wfi4Q1JbYvWYcLFK7IQ8-Pqzsv_bl4gwBguMxg8PbhXCVMfKTmuna8AUggIa1m-Ul5NxPKeusEpdNxnmXe4o0KTffB0KhL-uptAoT1pTHKfXqvzrJw48/s1600/K%2526M.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgop_KFc-HlbxIIdbqidz9vn_4-Wfi4Q1JbYvWYcLFK7IQ8-Pqzsv_bl4gwBguMxg8PbhXCVMfKTmuna8AUggIa1m-Ul5NxPKeusEpdNxnmXe4o0KTffB0KhL-uptAoT1pTHKfXqvzrJw48/s320/K%2526M.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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She plays the trumpet that her dad played when I met him and
she is a proud member of the Clear Lake High School Marching Band. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Watch them march in the AlamoDome <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOR2zRz6STc&t=29s">here</a>)</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh4q8RHxso7YMNZnQ8g_x5swA6QwIMY0Tq1H6Dp2Rh7mi6xvZK_E-H1tAXjoIjxDvC_3oOLd34O3fQjcPGWvUBiEFFtzPrIpoyEkB8YSlK3dnZUxOKXHFrkbR151NVj0nwkPlkAfd8Ktry/s1600/Band+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="960" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh4q8RHxso7YMNZnQ8g_x5swA6QwIMY0Tq1H6Dp2Rh7mi6xvZK_E-H1tAXjoIjxDvC_3oOLd34O3fQjcPGWvUBiEFFtzPrIpoyEkB8YSlK3dnZUxOKXHFrkbR151NVj0nwkPlkAfd8Ktry/s320/Band+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camber and her support squad</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Y’all, band has changed….or maybe it’s just Texas.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The schedule is INTENSE and the payoffs are enormous.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We have spent MANY Friday nights at the local stadium and
then done a quick turnaround so Camber is ready for a Saturday <span style="font-size: x-small;">(all day)</span>
competition.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Thankfully, she is just as excited about the program as we
are and she looks forward to having her brother there next year.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="font-size: large;">Cooper</span><o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
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Coop is the same sarcastic, loud mouthed, joy he always has
been. </div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhESe4uqswkWOZD42d7y3zVGOvG8STsqbuJrwpvKNzbMvoNOUaw1V_OvfpA8qew6FQBJnaGbrdkD_LgUxWAKVH1F4V1v3N360SMzuJk7aSYtBX0vRc7Bc30L-ogf8ZagyLwUdLsCYw7iIBP/s1600/Coop+Band.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhESe4uqswkWOZD42d7y3zVGOvG8STsqbuJrwpvKNzbMvoNOUaw1V_OvfpA8qew6FQBJnaGbrdkD_LgUxWAKVH1F4V1v3N360SMzuJk7aSYtBX0vRc7Bc30L-ogf8ZagyLwUdLsCYw7iIBP/s320/Coop+Band.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coop and the "baby tuba" (Euphonium)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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After 2 years of perfect scores on standardized tests he was contacted
about taking the ACT to really measure his intelligence.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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At the ripe old age of 13, he scored on average with high
school juniors and seniors on this college placement test.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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This year the leaders requested that Coop write a short
devotion and speak at #OLY <span style="font-size: x-small;">(OneLife Youth)</span> summer camp. Our concern was that he
wasn’t taking it very seriously, however we were shocked to learn that he had
been praying about this opportunity for weeks.</div>
<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpsqvVDTnt0Uezw8ka5ZxgL_wcVok6mWwA8dM7SR2s-1BmFYp81YVRnOfWHv3V8-aseuF1jaV3Xe31ETxmRTmnDYs28b3SB-mOFMFbmxamJ_4q49cUT8QdGZiKaEGLTxeVPYm6Het1mpLT/s1600/Coop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpsqvVDTnt0Uezw8ka5ZxgL_wcVok6mWwA8dM7SR2s-1BmFYp81YVRnOfWHv3V8-aseuF1jaV3Xe31ETxmRTmnDYs28b3SB-mOFMFbmxamJ_4q49cUT8QdGZiKaEGLTxeVPYm6Het1mpLT/s320/Coop.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#OLY Camp 2018</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He spoke on temptation, and outlined who tempts us, and how
God enables us to deal with the temptations that come our way.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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It wasn’t polished or professional, but his sweet heart
showed through and it’s been a building block for him to become more of a
leader in the youth group.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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About a month ago we finally made this kid an orthodontist
appointment, KNOWING that he needed braces for a few years.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9n8D8CuEQEsnxcSALCjMFyJtuPVJMLloUImluVqkrolBgMzzgKo-lXe4k104Oifudsgn61fhD8zXpk0Sqq1cR5t_ZqXgd4r_6Pl_dSHdB6mjI6RQnQlbChnXlE3PGQrCqhtUgWODcO8ER/s1600/Coop+Before.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9n8D8CuEQEsnxcSALCjMFyJtuPVJMLloUImluVqkrolBgMzzgKo-lXe4k104Oifudsgn61fhD8zXpk0Sqq1cR5t_ZqXgd4r_6Pl_dSHdB6mjI6RQnQlbChnXlE3PGQrCqhtUgWODcO8ER/s320/Coop+Before.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before treatment. I can't wait to see the after!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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Much to our surprise, he is a candidate for Invisalign! He
got his first set of “trays” yesterday and will change them weekly to adjust
his smile. </div>
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<br /></div>
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The treatment lasts for 2 years, just like regular braces, but they
aren’t as intrusive or painful. He’s still a little leery about the finished
product, but we have assured him that he will have a beautifully straight smile.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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And for me – I’m still hanging in there.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I’m still working for the industrial scaffolding company and
I’m still loving it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The people I work
with are amazing and I don’t think this job would be near as fun without them!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq3qXiOiOn0mkHAulxf6qzPsC255MafhAkpMfuy2eNXLZ8c8CQh99Qo4MXN0-0ttLkdNlqnAAvHiIs0C5d8ZnSwszGQVCopHz8YwCyCvsRrGFEsMMvpTR1LefevA32R1kDZ7s_wRJcSy39/s1600/Work.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq3qXiOiOn0mkHAulxf6qzPsC255MafhAkpMfuy2eNXLZ8c8CQh99Qo4MXN0-0ttLkdNlqnAAvHiIs0C5d8ZnSwszGQVCopHz8YwCyCvsRrGFEsMMvpTR1LefevA32R1kDZ7s_wRJcSy39/s320/Work.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The whole crew - Including the infamous #BossLady</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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As of this second – I’m half done with my Master’s Degree in
Accounting. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(It has been SO MUCH EASIER than my Bachelor’s ever was!)</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I don’t know what comes next…but I know we’re excited about
it!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-83870178487456628722017-07-27T15:38:00.002-07:002017-07-27T15:38:19.983-07:00Three Million, Six Hundred Seventy Nine Thousand, Two Hundred Minutes<div class="MsoNormal">
Today, seven years ago, our little family stepped out into
an adventure that would change our lives.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you’re new to the #TeamThomas show you can read all about
it <a href="http://greatthomasadventure.blogspot.com/2013/10/when-i-was-on-fire.html">here.</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Believe it or not, that’s not what I want to talk about
today.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Shocking…I know.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The thing about life changing events….especially ones that
start off with trauma….is you don’t know they’re life changing until you’re on
the other side of them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we first came home I felt like I was looking through a
fog. I felt disjointed, like my body didn’t
belong in this space anymore.
Relationships seemed choppy and took extra work. Church was hard. Like, really hard. I was desperate to hear from God, but the
static in my head was so loud I didn’t know if I could anymore. Everything felt like an out of body
experience. It was all JUST. SO. DIFFICULT.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Fast forward seven years <span style="font-size: x-small;">(and unlimited tears and prayers)</span>
and I can look back on the experience without bitterness, hurt, or
resentment. I can take what was good and
store it away to smile about another day, and the bad….well, like the fog that
I felt strangled by in the beginning…it dissipated.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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So….I say all that to say…<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I see you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Yes, you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right now it’s all so hard, and you’re feeling alone, and
broken beyond repair, and empty. I
know. I remember that hollowness that
seemed to swallow my entire being.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can confidentially say….this is not the end for you. This thing, whatever it is, will not end
you. I promise there is freedom. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Pinkie
promise)</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cry if you need to.
Scream into the pillow. Purchase
a punching bag. Eat an entire cake. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Ok,
that’s actually not super helpful, but you get the point)</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just do me one favor.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don’t unpack there.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don’t intend to stay.
Don’t even bring a carry-on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do something every day to work toward forgiveness <span style="font-size: x-small;">(for
yourself, not them)</span>. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Take every thought captive. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Yes, EVERY.SINGLE.ONE)</span> <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know. I know what
I’m asking you to do. I know how hard it
is to not wallow, even when all you want to do is curl up on your pile of pity
and take a nice long nap. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ask for help. Yes,
having a friend to vent to is great, but chances are they won’t understand
every aspect of your pain. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ask the one who created you.
The one who sees it all. Every
piece of your beautiful mess. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Y'all, not only does he see the mess now, but he sees the
mosaic that he’s created for you. He
sees the tears you’re crying now as fuel for the joy to come. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of my favorite passages of scripture is in Mark 9. A father brought his son to Jesus and asks
Jesus “If you can help him.” Jesus responds
with a question…”IF I can?” The father
immediately says “I believe, but help me overcome my unbelief.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Y’all…is there anything better? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“God, I don’t know what you’re doing….but I know who you
are.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Put that on repeat.
Say it every time you have to take one of those thoughts captive. Cry it into your pillow at night. Let those words heal you. Let God start to re-position the pieces of
your mosaic. <o:p></o:p></div>
Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-17403900487417418562017-07-10T16:04:00.002-07:002017-07-10T16:05:42.059-07:00Happy Birthday To MEEEE!!<div class="MsoNormal">
This morning, at 1:17 AM, I turned 36.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And weirdly enough, that number doesn’t scare me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are about 8 million things I wish I knew more about
and about 6 trillion things I would have done differently, but all in all, I’ve
had a pretty decent run :D<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, to celebrate my completion of 35 revolutions around the
sun here are 35 things you may or may not know about me. Some of which
have taken a full 35 years to learn.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In no particular order:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I have an
exceptionally good memory<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s almost like things get burned into my mind and I can’t
let them go. And it’s not always really important. It’s the little
stuff like how my brother orders his sandwich at Subway (Meatball, extra
sauce, American Cheese, Mayo, Pickles), or how my Granny took her coffee (Black
with 2 teaspoons of honey), or how my friend Emily eats her pizza (Toppings
first – then scrape the cheese off and roll it up – then pick the fluffy part
of the crust off).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I feel more deeply
than I let on<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m essentially a burnt marshmallow. You’re not going
to see a lot of emotion escape to the surface (thanks to #10) but I’m
practically goo on the inside.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I am a ‘Ride or
Die’<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m a pretty intense ally. I will 100% match your
enthusiasm….Every.Single.Time.<wbr></wbr> I will hold your earrings. I
will help you fight your way out. I will answer the phone at 3 am and
unlock the front door because you have nowhere else to go. I will help
you stalk the girl you think he’s cheating on you with. But…I will also force
the hard conversations. I will ask “What does that look like now?”
I will line out your options and make you choose a road to walk down. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I don’t function
well when I’m hungry…or tired<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Y’all. Hangry is LEGIT an emotion. I feel
it. Deep within me. It’s taken me a LONG time to know that if I’m
reaching my limit I probably just need some French fries and a nap.
Thankfully I’m married to a man who also recognizes this…way before I do…and
can usually head my crazy off at the pass.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I have an
insatiable need to know.<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know it doesn’t affect me. I know it doesn’t
matter. I just want to know. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Yes….I AM
‘head-shrinking’ you<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Look. I’m just being honest. As you’re talking
I’m about half listening and half trying to figure out your personality
quirks. I want to know how you work. If we talk for more than 30ish
minutes I can tell you if you’re an introvert or extrovert, what your love
language is, and how you are motivated. I will need this information
later….see #3.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I really do find
myself hilarious<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Come on…you HAVE to give me this one. It’s basically
Kim 101. Rule #1 is I’m HILARIOUS. And it’s SUCH a sad story when
people are unaware of rule #1.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I know all the
lyrics in the universe, but don’t ask me about song title or artist<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you need that info, you should ask my brother!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I’m seriously
disappointed about the lack of choreographed musical numbers in my life<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I mean…what’s a girl gotta do to get a little singing and
dancing on cars on the way to work? I feel like this will be my 50thbirthday
request….someone arrange a flash mob while I’m at the grocery store. (No,
I’m serious)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I trust you as far
as I can throw you<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m pretty strong…but that’s still not very far. I am
going to try to figure you out before I give you any ammunition against me.
I need to know if you’re going to shoot me in the back the second I turn
around. I don’t enjoy being vulnerable. There are probably 3 people
in the known universe that I trust implicitly…..odds are, you’re not one of
them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>If you ask my
opinion I am going to give it to you….this is your warning<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not really a sugar-coater. I’m learning to speak
truth in love, but I’m still going to speak truth. If you’re looking for
someone to back your crazy idea, I may not be the one.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I read….a lot<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For the last few years I’ve read 52 books a year. Yes,
that’s a book a week. Granted they weren’t all life changers, but I enjoy
the escape to another universe. I also think I like literature because
there’s no “Hurry up and wait.” It’s constant motion….one thing changing
to the next. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I get a little ADD
behind the wheel of the car<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes that I forget that I look with my eyes and not the
entire car….<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I get narcolepsy
in the passenger seat<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I seriously have fallen asleep on the way to Ikea.
Which is only an hour away!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Sometimes, random
songs get stuck in my head and I just have to sing them.<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You can ask the girls I work with. And it really could
be ANYTHING….from some crappy to 40 hit to an obscure Disney song. It
doesn’t matter. I think the only way to get it from bouncing around in my
head is to let it go. (See what I did there….HA…..see #7)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>If I could only
eat one food for the rest of my life it would, hands down, be tacos<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Y’all. Nothing more needs to be said about this.
Mexican food is a blessing. Be blessed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I will not
discriminate against you because of race, religion, or sexual orientation…But I
will judge you if you’re female and your toes aren’t painted<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is probably my biggest pet peeve. It probably has
more to do with #26 than anything. And I know in the grand scheme of
things it doesn’t matter. But paint your freaking toes…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>The first thing I
notice about people is their eyebrows<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know. This is weird. I’ve been told 11 billion
times how weird this is. But, alas. Here we are. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I still have my
wisdom teeth<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Weird. Who’da thunk I’d have enough room in my mouth
for 4 extra teeth….<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I don’t like to
eat alone…ever<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t mind hanging out at the house by myself. But
don’t ask me to go in public and have a meal alone. I just can’t do it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I consider it the
highest honor to be part of your big life event<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Make your wedding cake…I’d love to. Hold your hand and
remind you how badass you are while you’re having a baby….sure. Stand
beside you as you proclaim that this is the one forever and ever….of
course. I think this one is tied to #1 and #2 (heh….I said #2).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I have an
abnormally high pain tolerance…unless we’re talking about my toes.<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Have back surgery on Monday and go back to work on
Friday. No problem! Have a small human cut out of me on Wednesday
and clean house on Saturday. Why not? Stub my toe on the coffee
table at my grandma’s house going to the bathroom. Scream like I’ve been
stabbed – fall to the ground and shake the whole house – and exclaim that “It’s
BROKEN!!!” Yeah…that happened. But in my defense – that toe is
STILL crooked – proving my point that it WAS broken (Thank you very much,
Mema)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I can pop my
sternum<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your sternum is that hard bone in the middle of your chest
that your ribs connect to. Fun Fact: It’s actually 3 different bones. I
have no idea why, or how I became aware of this, but every now and then I can
get the joint between the top bone (Manubrium) and the second
bone (Body) to pop. (And, yes, it grosses EVERYONE out)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I don’t like to
hug…but not for the reasons you might think<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m tall. If you’ve met me you know this. I
stand at about 6’2”. Which means if I’m going to hug you, a normal sized
female, I’m going to smother you with my boobs. It’s just a fact. I
don’t like this….you don’t like this…people walking by don’t like this….it’s
just uncomfortable for everyone. Also see #10.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I hate feet!<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t know why. I just don’t like them. Putting
your feet on me is a sure fire way to ensure that I will NEVER speak to you
again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Don’t see a movie
with me unless you’re ready for a running commentary. No, I’m serious.<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Again, see #7. But really, I think I’m just too
ADD. I can’t have all these un-shared thoughts bouncing around in my head
for 2+ hours. I just can’t. I need to let them out. Now…they
may be remarks on a characters appearance….wondering where she got those
shoes….wanting that pineapple cup….thinking that man (who looks remarkably
like my husband) is smokin’ hawt….but whatever I think is going to come
flying out of my mouth. At least I’ve been nice enough to warn you
beforehand!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>My mind is in the
gutter….Always….No matter what….<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve tried to work on this, but it’s hard….heh….SO
HARD…..heh<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I want to be given
a 24 hour notice before I die….so I can eat my weight in Krispy Kreme Doughnuts<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I mean….is there anything more amazing? I may just
want to ride the conveyor under the glaze waterfall. Seriously, this is
the stuff dreams are made of!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I’m crafty, not
creative.<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Show me a picture and I can figure out how to do that.
Give me a blank canvas and tell me to create….I’m screwed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I have a
lisp. It’s not enough to notice in normal day to day life, but gets worse
when I’m tired….or tipsy.<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can confirm that it’s bad enough that my talk to text
can’t understand me unless I’ve had a cup of coffee...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>My natural
schedule is 10 am to 3 am<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am a night owl by nature – and an early morning riser
because the rest of the world seems to think that all business needs to take
place at the butt crack of dawn.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>My 2 year goal is
to do a half Ironman.<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yeah. You heard me. IRON. MAN. This
inspiration comes on the heels of watching my former Crossfit coach compete in
a FULL Ironman shortly after being diagnosed with RA. I don’t imagine
that this road is going to be easy, but I’m ready to NOT give up on something
and actually FINISH. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’ll see how that goes…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I really want to
be pretty, but it seems like <span style="color: windowtext;">SO. MUCH. WORK</span>.<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can either have full make up or have my hair fixed.
I can’t do both. Dammit Jim, I’m an accountant, not a magician<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I’m a
Student….again<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Apparently I’m a glutton for punishment…and have enrolled to
get my Master’s Degree. Because you know what goes with a nice Bachelor’s
in Psychology….a Master’s in Accounting.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>I think there’s a
better way.<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It doesn’t matter what it is. But you’ll catch me
saying “There’s got to be a better way.” Granted, this statement has been
to my detriment at a few jobs. Thankfully my current boss just listens
and lets me rant and even lets me try out a few of my crazy ideas.
Sometimes they work. Sometimes there’s an even better way than my better
way. Sometimes you just need to try.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So. Kudos to you if you got to the end of this.
In parting I’ll leave you with some birthday wisdom (Which is WAY better
than a birthday suit….LOL)<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Figure out who you are. Know WHOSE you are. Be
the friend you want to have. Buy coffee for the guy in line behind
you. Eat the cake. Laugh fully (even if you snort). Be a
better remember-er (even if you have to set a reminder in your phone).
Pray more. Text the person you’re thinking about. Love even if it
hurts.<o:p></o:p></div>
Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-12942459294428752722017-01-01T08:44:00.000-08:002017-01-01T08:45:25.360-08:002-0-1-7<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Each year, as the calendar counts
down to 1-1 again, I start to pray about what word would be the theme for the
coming year. As we roll into 2017 I felt like God was telling me that it
was a year to rest. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Lord knows I need it....2016 was....tough)</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Rest is the one action that I’ve
never been able to get right. I guess because I forget it really is an
action. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">As a wife and a mom it's seemingly
impossible to look around and NOT see something that needs to be done/taken
care of/handled. I feel like I'd be of much better use if I had 6 arms
and wings like a hummingbird.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">But rest….there’s no time for that.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">On December 27th, my first day back
to work after the holiday, my co-workers noticed that my cough had stopped
sounding cough like and started sound like a barking seal.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The next day I could barely hold my
head up. I was down for the count.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Let me just interject this point of
knowledge, for those of you who already know where this story is going...</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">When God asks you to rest...it's not
a request. It is a call to obedience. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(One that I CLEARLY didn't
heed.)</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">SO....here we are, six days later,
and I still feel like a zombie version of myself.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I haven’t been able to do
anything. I jokingly told the kids that I was going to have to start
paying one of them to hold my head up!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">For us...well…me, 2016 was a year of
manufactured happiness. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I tried everything in my power to
move our family out of one season into the next. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I was working as much as humanly
possible, taking on as many side jobs as I could, trying to make sure that we
could still afford to keep our lights on and buy our kids yearbooks.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Mark was drowning. Depression
and anxiety are beasts of another realm that can't be conquered with sheer
willpower. If I started now I don't think I could ever count the number
of hours that our community of believers poured out prayer for this man.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Camber was dealing with giants of
her own. Thirteen is a tough age. Girls are mean. And this
world is trying to do everything in its power to drag our babies down with it.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Then there was Coop. This kid
y'all. He's either going to cure cancer or take over the world.
This las year was rough for him as well. I'm pretty sure the vice
principal of his school had me on speed dial. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">So...with all that drama I was desperately
trying to keep our family together...and functioning...and growing....</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Many times my efforts failed
miserably. We cancelled a lot of plans because one or more of us was
having some sort of existential crisis that day.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">You see, as much as I wanted to
be...I’m not the author of grace. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Gasp. I know you're shocked)</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I got exhausted. And honestly,
I just stopped trying. I didn't schedule anything. I didn't say yes
to anything. I started shutting down projects that were floundering
because I.CANT.MAKE.THINGS.WORK.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Slowly but surely, as I sat on the
couch and watched 1 million hours of Netflix in hopes to connect to the husband
that I was sure I was losing, little bits of light started shining through.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">After a fairly dramatic <span style="font-size: x-small;">(And we
Thomas girls KNOW dramatic)</span> knock-down, drag-out, we were able to talk some
sense into our struggling 13 year old. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">We discussed the life-cycle of a
friend. How important it is to keep those who are like-minded close to
you, how important it is to keep those who continuously stir up drama at an arm’s
length, how hard it is to genuinely love someone and see them set out on a path
of destruction that you can't do anything about, how to earnestly pray your
guts out for those people...and how to set them free from your life.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Redemption for Coop came at the
changing of schools. We had always known that he was a grown up trapped in
a kid’s body. This summer/fall we really got to see that in action.
It started at youth camp…</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">*****Side bar - I can’t say enough how
important youth ministry is. Get a group of leaders who are in it to win
it. Don't cycle through babysitters. These kids are smart enough to
know that it's not worth it to build a relationship with someone who is going
to be out the door when a "better opportunity" comes along.
Secondly, pray for these people....Seriously...you've met your kids...and their
friends. This job ISN'T easy. Kids are nuts and annoying and barely
listen (except when they do and all the hard work pays off). Third,
support them. Donate. Get a crappy car wash. Buy a bad
cupcake. Just write a check to cover a couple of kids going to
camp. <u>Don’t make these guys beg you to support the next generation of
disciples.</u>*****</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Ok...enough from the soapbox...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Youth Camp - Y'all I was
TERRIFIED! This kid hadn't gone a week without having some sort of major
breakdown with a classmate....how was he going to survive a week at camp
without me there to thump him in the head and get him back in line???</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Well, thankfully, the leaders know
him all too well. They put him on the team of a <s>girl</s> woman who
loves him almost as much as I do. She knows him, knows his heart, and
protected him and gave him space to learn to interact with his peers. She
believed him <span style="font-size: x-small;">(honestly, the kid REALLY doesn't lie)</span> and went to bat for him
against people who didn't have his best interest at heart. She is my
favorite.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Somewhere in this week away Coop
showed these people who he really is. Not just the rowdy kid who that
they had seen before...but who he was evolving into.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I'm still not sure on the
details...But the bits and pieces of the story tell me that there was fire <span style="font-size: x-small;">(of
course there was)</span> and Coop prayed over the people in his grade...and the entire
group as they prepared to go back to school. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Although, all I could get
out of him was that there was fire...)</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">In November, a friend from church
hooked Mark up with an interview at the Starbucks in the mall. He was
hired right away and started the week after Thanksgiving. He seems to
enjoy it. It's a much more extroverted position than he's used to, so he
usually comes home completely exhausted. But everyone who has seen him in
action say that he's amazing <span style="font-size: x-small;">(I TOTES already knew that)</span>. A little bit of
purpose <span style="font-size: x-small;">(and two different anxiety medications) </span>have gone a long way. I'm
excited to see what God has for this man in 2017.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">As for me. I feel like I've
been hit by a bus. My head is WAY too heavy to hold up and my chest burns
when I attempt to breathe. I CAN, however, successfully make it from the
bed to the couch. (High five me!) But....I can rest. I have two
kids and a husband who are willing to entertain my ridiculous wishes for a
dusted and vacuumed living room <span style="font-size: x-small;">(even though we're the only ones who will be seeing
it)</span>. I have a job that I've been at for a year and still love. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(And
because I've been there for over a year I can take a few days to rest up
without worrying about how we're going to pay the light bill).</span> I've
closed doors on all the ventures that had me running like a chicken with my
head cut off and I enjoy the down time watching old episodes of Smallville with
my main squeeze.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I look forward to a year of
rest. Nothing too pushy. Just organic growth and genuine joy.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">What is your word for this year? </span></span></div>
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<![endif]-->Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-52902145816219242832014-11-10T10:26:00.001-08:002014-11-10T10:26:19.055-08:00I Guess I'll Go Eat WormsI have been in a funk.<br />
<br />
There. I said it.<br />
<br />
For those who don't knowI lost my job in August. <br />
<br />
It was a shock to say the least. <br />
<br />
I had been with the small, family-oriented company for over a year. Mark and I were talking about buying a house. Then, out of nowhere, I was called into the owner's office and told that because of our heart for missions, and our desire to one day leave this country, they didn't see me as a permanent employee. Thankfully I was so shocked that I handled myself with as much grace as I could muster. I gathered the things from my desk, loaded everything in my car, and cried the whole way home. <br />
<br />
After a couple of days of wallowing I applied for unemployment and started exploring other options. A few short weeks later I had my first unemployment check and a fairly lucrative cake business. <br />
<br />
God is good.<br />
<br />
I decided that I would apply for jobs and go on interviews but that I would be selective until November (as my unemployment runs out at the end of December). <br />
<br />
Well....it's November. <br />
<br />
I have been on several interviews and nothing has really panned out. I feel like I'm fairly bright and capable of doing whatever is asked of me, but because of craptastic decisions earlier in life (mainly resulting from my selfishness) I don't have any experience to back those claims up.<br />
<br />
It's no secret that I've struggled with my identity. As days turn into weeks, and the call backs never come, I have struggled with feeling inadequate, useless, and unworthy.<br />
<br />
Unfortunetally these feelings have migrated into my relationships as well. <br />
<br />
This has resulted in me wanting to crawl in a hole and sing:<br />
<br />
"Nobody likes me,<br />
Everybody hates me,<br />
I Guess I'll go eat worms."<br />
<br />
Thankfully I have a husband who calls me out on this childish behavior and encourages me with "Suck it up buttercup."<br />
<br />
I hope that the handfull of you reading this understand what a huge deal it is for me to pour out my heart like this. I don't usually open up to people. I have not had good results with it in the past. More often than not my deepest struggles have been locked away inside another person to be used against me later. I just don't trust people.<br />
<br />
I would love to say that there is a bright side to this depression narrative....but, alas, I'm still waiting for....something. <br />
<br />
Right now I rest in the fact that God is who he said he is, he will do what he says he will do, and I am who HE says I am.Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-31082681019617898942014-10-07T19:13:00.001-07:002014-10-07T19:30:06.808-07:00The Way We WereI saw a high school marching band for the first time in years tonight. Actually I saw 5. It's crazy how memories can be attached to sounds and resurface so quickly.<br />
<br />
The second band that took the field started their show with Beethoven's 5th symphony.<br />
<br />
Immediately I was 15 years old, my first season of marching band, with my hair pulled too tightly under my hat because I was terrified that one strand was going to be misplaced. Under bright stadium lights, pouring sweat, I stepped onto a football field for the first time. Y'all....my heart.<br />
<br />
After that one show seemed to bleed into another. Football season lasted forever. But one memory remains so clear I can almost feel it.<br />
<br />
District marching festival. 1997. Tommy Oliver Stadium. Panama City, Florida.<br />
We lined up on the field like so many times before. The lights were blaring and the stands were filled with people. (This time our audience was made up of fellow musicians and exhausted parents.)<br />
<br />
The show was like any other, only this time it meant so much more. We had 30+ years of tradition riding on our shoulders. Our band was 'superior' (the highest ranking that a marching band can get) and had been for years. Everything rested in our hands now.<br />
<br />
During the last song (Ode To Joy by Beethoven) we performed a 'company front.' Basically the entire band formed a straight line, paused for a bit, and then marched 5 more yards forward in unison. During that brief pause no note was to be played. It was dead silence for a few seconds then we all came back in together and played our guts out.<br />
<br />
Those brief seconds are forever burned into my memory.<br />
<br />
We formed our company front. The music went silent. Seconds before we were to play the next note a voice called out:<br />
"Come on band."<br />
<br />
There, from the sidelines, the man that challenged us to be better, chastised us when we made stupid mistakes, yelled when we refused to listen, and praised us when praise was due was cheering for us. <br />
<br />
He knew what we had inside and he compelled it out.<br />
<br />
That's what he did. He challenged us to greatness. He taught us that there is no excuse for not being excellent.<br />
<br />
Tonight I saw bands take the field running with their instruments and waving wildly to people in the stands. I saw musicians dance rather than play. I heard melophones "trying to save the world" and tubas who were trying to see if they could get their tongue to come out of the bell. And I heard Mr. D's voice in the back of my head, not being critical, but demanding more than mediocrity. <br />
<br />
I have waited 11 years to be a band mom. As I watched not only these bands, but their proud parents in the stands, I silently prayed that Camber gets her own Mr. D.<br />
<br />
Words can't express the impact that he had on my life. I will forever be grateful for his influence. Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-81671716894414571582014-08-12T07:25:00.000-07:002014-10-07T19:12:33.107-07:00I have found the one my soul loves...I'm a math nerd. I always have been. Numbers just make sense to me. <div>
<br />
So, here are some numbers for today:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
5,113 Days</div>
<div>
7,362,720 Minutes</div>
<div>
14 Years</div>
<div>
2 Kids</div>
<div>
1 Cat</div>
<div>
3 Dogs</div>
<div>
25 Houses</div>
<div>
4 States</div>
<div>
9 Countries</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In those numbers we <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">have laughed and cried.</span></span> Hurt each other and carried each other through tragedy. We've seen new family members be born and said good bye to others. We made made lifelong friends and watched relationships dissolve. We have lived with family and we have lived on our own. We have had much and we have had very little. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We have literally grown up together. We have learned to be adults. We have learned to rely on God in situations that we never dreamed possible.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
14 years later I still do.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvqCH94T5RFftDcnryi5rwFvBp01QDYUrG3yCXF9u5onZtFQQX1ecwyRrZyk9ctGfnLsum78g_VxAZd4Q9XGICHaffouQxZxabhcAB1g383XcfZ9FHCSMIl-rwU8rVliVJ2EwO7vTqjKa/s1600/Prom.jpg" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="216" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1999</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir2PQS4WTquuPcjdZjiIfoDUDGJF6DuB9TwIPeacHIaU_m0wgD3TnD-1b2Xari_duoImjlhCMudVVF2FgarsxEgyDrGcF0BB1CAvXYiQhvcrSCRkTwolO2oXeiLqyalQ7BxXKKlcBbiKHy/s1600/Wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir2PQS4WTquuPcjdZjiIfoDUDGJF6DuB9TwIPeacHIaU_m0wgD3TnD-1b2Xari_duoImjlhCMudVVF2FgarsxEgyDrGcF0BB1CAvXYiQhvcrSCRkTwolO2oXeiLqyalQ7BxXKKlcBbiKHy/s1600/Wedding.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2000</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2013</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvqCH94T5RFftDcnryi5rwFvBp01QDYUrG3yCXF9u5onZtFQQX1ecwyRrZyk9ctGfnLsum78g_VxAZd4Q9XGICHaffouQxZxabhcAB1g383XcfZ9FHCSMIl-rwU8rVliVJ2EwO7vTqjKa/s1600/Prom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvqCH94T5RFftDcnryi5rwFvBp01QDYUrG3yCXF9u5onZtFQQX1ecwyRrZyk9ctGfnLsum78g_VxAZd4Q9XGICHaffouQxZxabhcAB1g383XcfZ9FHCSMIl-rwU8rVliVJ2EwO7vTqjKa/s1600/Prom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvqCH94T5RFftDcnryi5rwFvBp01QDYUrG3yCXF9u5onZtFQQX1ecwyRrZyk9ctGfnLsum78g_VxAZd4Q9XGICHaffouQxZxabhcAB1g383XcfZ9FHCSMIl-rwU8rVliVJ2EwO7vTqjKa/s1600/Prom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvqCH94T5RFftDcnryi5rwFvBp01QDYUrG3yCXF9u5onZtFQQX1ecwyRrZyk9ctGfnLsum78g_VxAZd4Q9XGICHaffouQxZxabhcAB1g383XcfZ9FHCSMIl-rwU8rVliVJ2EwO7vTqjKa/s1600/Prom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-60600602404965072772014-06-18T08:23:00.002-07:002014-06-20T21:28:47.918-07:00Where Feet May FailI'm not good at expressing emotions. I spent most of my childhood hiding
the way I feel so that it couldn't be used against me.<br />
<br />
'My heart' is a phrase that
you will hear me use when I can't express the deep emotion that I'm
feeling.<br />
<br />
Y'all.<br />
<br />
My heart.<br />
<br />
Last night our small group had its last
meeting for the semester. We grilled burgers and dogs and sat around chit
chatting about baked beans recipes and the conundrum of ab workouts. (You workout your abs so you have a smaller waist, but the workout makes your abs hurt so much that you can no longer 'suck it in.')<br />
<br />
I didn't realize at the time, but while I was
downing Mountain Dew like it was my job, my childhood friend was losing
his life.<br />
Yesterday, in a freak accident, a boy that I
had known since I was 2 years old was shot and killed in his home. His family was gathered to celebrate the birth of their first son.<br />
<br />
On the way home from my last small
group meeting I read the short article posted on Facebook by mutual
friend and immediately started to sob.<br />
A million questions started going
through my mind: What just happened? Is there anything I
can do? Is his wife ok? How is his mom?<br />
<br />
I immediately remembered that this is the same boy
that used to get blamed for pulling my hair...even though it was really
his best friend.<br />
I thought about baby Jax and how he will never his father.<br />
<br />
Of course, in times like these
people squeeze their loved ones extra tight and try to remind themselves that
God has a plan.<br />
<br />
If I'm being honest, as my head hit the pillow last night, I
repeated over and over through cold wet tears:<br />
"Lord, I believe but help my
unbelief."<br />
<br />
Today, as Facebook is flooded with pictures, and memories, and condolences, I am praying for Jess. I literally can't imagine what she's going through. I pray that the peace that passes all understand will be real to her.<br />
<br />
I pray for Mrs. Sandy and Mr. Billy, that they would have wisdom in the words that they speak over their daughter.<br />
<br />
I pray for Mrs. Vicki. That she would be comforted. That the pieces of her heart would begin, even now, to weld together.<br />
<br />
I pray for Brian, Justin's best friend. That he would continue to draw close to God and that he would be a source of wisdom and strength for the family.<br />
<br />
I pray for Emily, Jess' best friend, that just her touch would be a source of comfort for Jess.<br />
<br />
I pray for baby Jax. That he would grow to be a man of integrity, like his father.<br />
<br />
I pray for those who will feel Justin's absence in the days and weeks to come.<br />
<br />
I don't have answers. I don't even have anything comforting to say. But I can pray, so that's what I'll do. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihV5FywSvA75yOW6fFIiNPBWJvs4YKrDVo8ehaIi0KcFvGCu56s_K50kAyyhMGChS_qhIFmgcM_mjOgsbsN3fOJG5FrhM0gjBQaOuVMiXhfqLkOHeZYksE52UCc380FLIoM8WCQaX5Ym4B/s1600/Justin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihV5FywSvA75yOW6fFIiNPBWJvs4YKrDVo8ehaIi0KcFvGCu56s_K50kAyyhMGChS_qhIFmgcM_mjOgsbsN3fOJG5FrhM0gjBQaOuVMiXhfqLkOHeZYksE52UCc380FLIoM8WCQaX5Ym4B/s1600/Justin.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donations to support Jess and baby Jax can be given <a href="http://www.gofundme.com/agla8k">here.</a></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihV5FywSvA75yOW6fFIiNPBWJvs4YKrDVo8ehaIi0KcFvGCu56s_K50kAyyhMGChS_qhIFmgcM_mjOgsbsN3fOJG5FrhM0gjBQaOuVMiXhfqLkOHeZYksE52UCc380FLIoM8WCQaX5Ym4B/s1600/Justin.jpg"></a><br /></td></tr>
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Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-69197455872531462622014-05-16T07:48:00.001-07:002014-05-16T07:48:25.703-07:00Dance RecitalAnother year has flown by!<br />
<br />
This past weekend Camber celebrated her 2nd year dancing ballet with Chara Christian Dance Academy. Y'all, she loves it. <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwGnfaUQ4J5Y2167AL_qNyk-DZq8lmKc5PXx1ILOA2lweiqf8vc8ueMhYIb69RIX9HCR0Eg3lk-w8lnednADLKJXXW0P2QWRhCxc_TP1snmJqJ1bdbspiFpLGdwu8SsmU2ofOznIZkXfdb/s1600/Us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwGnfaUQ4J5Y2167AL_qNyk-DZq8lmKc5PXx1ILOA2lweiqf8vc8ueMhYIb69RIX9HCR0Eg3lk-w8lnednADLKJXXW0P2QWRhCxc_TP1snmJqJ1bdbspiFpLGdwu8SsmU2ofOznIZkXfdb/s1600/Us.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This year recital was especially interesting. The ballet classes came together and told the story of creation through dance. It was literally breath taking.<br />
<br />
To make the day even more special Camber was joined by her "friend" from school, Goku. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(His parents are as weird as we are and named him after <a href="http://dragonball.wikia.com/wiki/Goku">Dragonball</a>.)</span><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGjFEX_GRCRkMzf_vmZKHbk5KVzE3e1XIpt8i_XG4G4bRvmG5X50cI0TmLSDAN9ETFkZwzwppVfMjfSWTw7ek_olchrp3s8sH4rhVZbC9v_oZrZk6kjrzr_Si_SQs4cwjc2V9f4sBMCoHW/s1600/Camber+and+G.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGjFEX_GRCRkMzf_vmZKHbk5KVzE3e1XIpt8i_XG4G4bRvmG5X50cI0TmLSDAN9ETFkZwzwppVfMjfSWTw7ek_olchrp3s8sH4rhVZbC9v_oZrZk6kjrzr_Si_SQs4cwjc2V9f4sBMCoHW/s1600/Camber+and+G.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is he not the cutest kid?</td></tr>
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<br />
They spent the evening making googly eyes at each other and pretending the rest of us didn't exist.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXaMlwKCD3VK1a8OZ8QNFZhNPqqycIMMdNJ-tCBNP8JQjzUvX7qkTpShyphenhyphenh-4U1jb3GKMPCfw0YZPviT-UaPwf_Nz-vSrz_vaewY-H62R33WPb_-gNsoaAXgMjRNiilvHNoJQJEm9xDo-N/s1600/Amanda+and+Dodo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXaMlwKCD3VK1a8OZ8QNFZhNPqqycIMMdNJ-tCBNP8JQjzUvX7qkTpShyphenhyphenh-4U1jb3GKMPCfw0YZPviT-UaPwf_Nz-vSrz_vaewY-H62R33WPb_-gNsoaAXgMjRNiilvHNoJQJEm9xDo-N/s1600/Amanda+and+Dodo.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunt Amanda and Uncle DoDo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1UIWfZ51Y_Ntn4Kzs8-ZS0reulWXZmB8LY15yA9LTNwcwlPaOG_ikV7NlSU_zvMFYyQHcR7Z7p07PXYoZpz9OUDZ4Lr599PSVixrNVOQExiR2MBrkrQ5MOdB2SgVcUDXSaTzbpxn2RMG/s1600/E+and+DC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1UIWfZ51Y_Ntn4Kzs8-ZS0reulWXZmB8LY15yA9LTNwcwlPaOG_ikV7NlSU_zvMFYyQHcR7Z7p07PXYoZpz9OUDZ4Lr599PSVixrNVOQExiR2MBrkrQ5MOdB2SgVcUDXSaTzbpxn2RMG/s1600/E+and+DC.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daniel and Elizabeth Clark (My office girlfriend)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz-Hf5f-1veDjTfpp8AnVwWdrCd281-gJs8WaN_t1iH5yRMx4unHFUz8KpujAEQzjfmB62lMDKbDbNm89kxkz7qy1nnQulSnopYvYUH-qNl_vKGdnztp1jTKyuvbkiay9Mlt_XLnm_RHdu/s1600/PopPop+and+Grandma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz-Hf5f-1veDjTfpp8AnVwWdrCd281-gJs8WaN_t1iH5yRMx4unHFUz8KpujAEQzjfmB62lMDKbDbNm89kxkz7qy1nnQulSnopYvYUH-qNl_vKGdnztp1jTKyuvbkiay9Mlt_XLnm_RHdu/s1600/PopPop+and+Grandma.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma and Pop Pop (With flowers from Mema who couldn't be there this year)</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
I'm sorry, how old am I right now? How can I possibly have a child who is going into middle school and inviting boys to her dance recitals???<br />
<br />
<br />Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-42896374126561830372014-04-07T09:09:00.001-07:002014-04-07T09:14:02.158-07:00ContentmentContentment is a tricky beast.<br />
<br />
Surely you know when you're not happy with what life is handing you. It should be easy to see, right? <br />
<br />
Funny story. It's not.<br />
<br />
I didn't recognize my own discontentment until my friend Elizabeth confessed that she's been struggling in that very area.<br />
<br />
When she said those words out loud I remember snickering and saying "Yeah, I can see how you've been in 'fake it till you make it' mode."<br />
<br />
I didn't realize that those words were true for me also.<br />
<br />
Ever since we stepped foot back in the United States I have longed to leave again. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(How's that for patriotism!)</span><br />
<br />
I saw this season of our lives as "hurry up and wait." We were just biding our time until God got his ducks in a row and we could get to doing what he called us to do.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Please understand that I see, now, how horrible that sounds.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
After sharing our hearts <span style="font-size: x-small;">(and history)</span> with our pastor and his wife we were encouraged that this season is not to wait, but to grow. We were in a safe place, surrounded by people who genuinely love us and are willing to speak truth into our lives with love. (Which is something we haven't had in recent past.)<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I believe that the Great Commission is carried out 'as
you are going.' I have continued to stay connected to the body and have
been active in my local church. I invite friends to church, hold
babies in the nursery so their moms can enjoy service, make coffee and
set out communion, and have lunch with friends so that they feel
involved and connected. I haven't stopped serving.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The
issue with all of this is my heart. I never served begrudgingly, but
it was just something to occupy my time until we moved on to something
else. If God wanted me to grow in leadership I was going to show him
just how ready for being a leader I was.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I feel like I've been saying and doing the right things (most of the time) but my heart was in the wrong place. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">It's time for a re-boot. Time to speak my soul into submission and get my heart lined up with God's. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">It's time for me to see this season for what it is and be willing to use up every second of the incredibly generous opportunity that God has given me. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
During this time of growth I am learning to open up every part <span style="font-size: x-small;">(yes, EVERY part)</span> of my life
with the people closest to me. I am learning that admonishment, when
handled in love, doesn't have to leave spiritual and psychological
scars. In short I am learning what genuine biblical community is really like. Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-3735500902985167302014-03-10T12:14:00.000-07:002014-03-10T12:14:07.606-07:00Divine Appointments and Root CanalsDo you ever have those days where you just feel useless?<br />
<br />
Last week I found myself smack dab in the middle of a mood. While I can usually feel one of these coming on, and respond quickly with chocolate, this one caught me off guard.<br />
<br />
A friend, who is a missionary in Panama, posted the organizations promo video, and like a fool I watched it.<br />
<br />
As most know, our time in Panama didn't end well. Honestly I was curious as to what they were up to, and hoping that they would show some of what they've been doing in the community there.<br />
<br />
Instead I was bombarded with familiar places that brought tears to my eyes. They spoke of the opportunity to reach the nations through this one city because of it's diversity.<br />
<br />
Something stirred in my heart and I started to feel like I wasn't living up to my potential. I allowed that voice to whisper to me "They're doing what you have failed to do." "You are stuck at home with your heart in another country, and God can't use you like this."<br />
<br />
It was depressing.<br />
<br />
It's hard when ever fiber of your being wants to jump in head first, but your heart knows that you are in the right place at the right time.<br />
<br />
Now is the time for restoration and growth. I am SO thankful that God has given us a safe place to grow, but part of my heart aches for what is next.<br />
<br />
That afternoon I left work early to go to the dentist. I was scheduled to get my second root canal. (Thank you Celiac Disease for ruining my teeth!) <br />
<br />
At the dentist a new set of nerves kicked in. I don't love shots....especially not shots in the roof of my mouth.<br />
<br />
After a few tries half of my face was completely numb and we were ready to get started.<br />
<br />
About half way through the procedure one of the receptionists came by the room to let the dentist know that one of their patients had passed away. <br />
<br />
At this news the assistant shared that she was terrified of death. The dentist responded saying "You're terrified to die because you don't have the hope of eternal life in Jesus."<br />
<br />
Honestly y'all....I thought I was hallucinating. I was sitting there the whole time thinking "Is this really happening?"<br />
<br />
The assistant would ask questions about this hope that was spoken of, and the dentist would answer, always reverting back to scripture. <br />
<br />
They finished the procedure and I was just waiting for them to take bite impressions for the crown. The assistant were in the room alone and she looks at me and says "What do you think?"<br />
<br />
I asked her to clarify what she meant, and she said "What do you think about what she was saying."<br />
<br />
I got the chance to tell her that the dentist was SPOT ON. And that the hope of eternity is what drives away the fear of death. <br />
<br />
Tuesday afternoon, March 4th, I got to share the gospel with a dental assistant after a root canal.<br />
<br />
I know that God is in the divine appointment business, but this really blew me away. Not only did she need to hear about the hope of salvation, but I needed to be reminded that the Great Commission says "As you are going."<br />
<br />Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-84954458454613249792014-01-20T12:47:00.000-08:002014-01-20T12:47:01.708-08:00At the CrossThe other day I was reading one of my school books and read something
that I just found profound. Anyone that knows me knows that I enjoy
learning about the background history of the biblical times. They often
give a lot of insight, debt and context to the message that is being
told. This was just that sort of information. On Thursday at the
church I had these thought bouncing back and forth in my head but didn’t
share them, so here it is.<br /> <br /> Back in Jesus’ day there was a <span class="text_exposed_show">word
that was so nasty, so ugly, and so vile, that not only would you avoid
using it in polite conversation but you would avoid it nearly at all to
the point that people had terms to soften the word. This word would
cause people to become nauseous just hearing it. This word was a
constant reminder to the Jewish people that they were not free, but that
they had been subjugated to the Romans. This word was a form of the
worst torture. The word <i>CROSS</i>. Today we look at it far more different,
at any given church you can usually see several; prisoners wear them as
jewelry or as tattoos. To soften the blow they would say <i>"he was
lifted up</i>” or “<i>he stretched out his hands</i>.” when talking about the cross
and crucifixion.<br /> <br /> The author was using this while talking about
selflessness in Philippians 2:8 “…and becoming obedient to the point of
death, even the death of the cross, he didn’t soften it with the
typical “stretched out his arms” or “will be lifted up” in this
instance, he gave the raw unfiltered word <i>CROSS</i>.<br /> <br /> It had
been just a few days prior that Matthew 16:24 caught my attention, it
always does to some extent while reading though Matthew but for some
reason it struck that this call to carry the unmentionable word CROSS
happens right after Jesus’ foretelling of his death and resurrection but
that this foretelling doesn’t mention the CROSS. The Amplified Bible
version reads like this"</span><br />
<br />
<i><span class="text_exposed_show">Matt. 16:24 </span></i><br />
<i><span class="text_exposed_show">"Then Jesus said to His disciples, If
anyone desires to be My disciple, let him deny himself [disregard, lose
sight of, and forget himself and his own interests] and take up his
cross and follow Me [cleave steadfastly to Me, conform wholly to My
example in living and, if need be, in dying, also]."</span></i><br />
<br />
<span class="text_exposed_show"> Having read this
bit about the repulsiveness of the cross I went back and reread this
verse, it gave new depth and that is why I share this now, when you
think of or look at the cross remember the ugliness of it, also remember
that the King of all wasn’t above the lowest death on it and it is only
for that reason that we see beauty in this inhumane article of torture
and death.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="text_exposed_show"> -Mark </span>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-77979447378695805042014-01-06T08:17:00.000-08:002014-01-06T08:18:26.522-08:00Happy New YearDecember was a whirlwind! The holidays are always busy, but this year was outright crazy.<br />
<br />
You see what had happened was:<br />
<br />
Mark finished yet another semester. Five months older and wiser with scores of new information to tuck into his pockets for later. Who am I kidding, he managed to not have a nervous breakdown over Philosophy and finally finished his last English class. There was much rejoycing.<br />
In his spare time, he managed to get some time in the saddle. He's looking forward to several big organized rides in 2014. <span style="font-size: x-small;">More on that as they come around.</span><br />
<br />
I (Kim) also managed to complete her first semester back <span style="font-size: x-small;">(again)</span> with a 3.25 GPA. I am working as a dispatcher/ customer service representative at a local HVAC repair company. I love the job!! Sometimes it's a bit like herding cats, but I really like the guys. Everyone in the office is a believer so there is an air of grace there unlike any other job I've ever had.<br />
Back in October I had back surgery to correct some herniated discs. Thankfully the surgery was a complete success and I got out of the hospital bed that evening pain free! I am still doing well, and have have had no other issues with my back.<br />
<br />
The second week of December Camber went to her first overnight camp. The fifth graders at her school traveled a few hours north and stayed at an environmental science camp for four days. She had a blast!! We missed her greatly and when she returned we informed her that she was never allowed to leave ever ever again!<br />
She also got the incredible opportunity to dance during halftime at a Houston Rockets game with her dance crew <a href="http://www.thenoize.com/academy/">The Noize</a>. (You can watch it <a href="http://vimeo.com/81781920">here</a>.) Every Saturday the sweet people from Grace Community Church gather and teach a wild group of kids what worship looks like. They dance, they sing, they study scripture, and they pray. She LOVES it!<br />
<br />
December is a special month for Cooper. This year he turned 9. Because this was an off year for birthdays we celebrated at a local Mexican Restaurant. He is now a proud owner of a sonic screwdriver (his favorite gift)!<br />
<br />
Christmas started with a candlelight service with our church family at OneLife. Thankfully no one caught anyone else on fire! <br />
<br />
<img alt="" class="fbPhotoImage img" height="320" id="fbPhotoImage" src="https://scontent-b-dfw.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/q86/1524947_10202772054489133_280167639_n.jpg" width="320" /><br />
<br />
<br />
Mema provided the kids with the opportunity for broken limbs in the form of a trampoline. The first couple of days they had it we could barely get them off of it. Now that it's about 30 degrees outside they have second thoughts about the amount of time they spend away from the fire.<br />
<img alt="" class="fbPhotoImage img" height="240" id="fbPhotoImage" src="https://scontent-b-dfw.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/q72/s720x720/1488236_10201214883590377_739867278_n.jpg" width="320" /> <br />
<br />
<br />
While Christmas is traditionally spent lounging and eating, and eating and lounging this year was a little different. For the first time the ENTIRE family was in the same zip code. It was necessary that we take a family photo.<br />
<br />
Because I think pictures should tell a story we headed down to the Kemah Boardwalk to snap some memories from this season in our lives.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<img alt="" class="fbPhotoImage img" height="213" id="fbPhotoImage" src="https://scontent-a-dfw.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/q71/s720x720/1480579_10152127362072446_354848115_n.jpg" width="320" /><br />
<img alt="" class="fbPhotoImage img" height="320" id="fbPhotoImage" src="https://scontent-b-dfw.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc3/q71/s720x720/1499481_10152127364357446_2093783124_n.jpg" width="213" /><br />
<br />
Just three short days after Christmas, on December 28, 2013, we added a new member to our family. Jonathan married Amanda.<br />
<img alt="" class="fbPhotoImage img" height="320" id="fbPhotoImage" src="https://scontent-a-dfw.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/q71/s720x720/1536638_10152135404302446_1197990024_n.jpg" width="213" /><br />
<br />
We traveled to the booming metropolis of Beeville, Texas to celebrate with them.<br />
Camber and Cooper were part of the wedding party, although Coop wasn't super thrilled about it.<br />
<br />
<img alt="" class="fbPhotoImage img" height="320" id="fbPhotoImage" src="https://scontent-a-dfw.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/q71/s720x720/1521978_10152135402757446_1504467598_n.jpg" width="213" /><br />
I made the cakes and handled the dessert bar while my best friend, Sam, did the catering. The food was amazing, and the cakes looked pretty good too, if I do say so myself!<br />
<img alt="" class="fbPhotoImage img" height="320" id="fbPhotoImage" src="https://scontent-a-dfw.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/q89/1521805_10202803585397386_1644278457_n.jpg" width="320" /><br />
<br />
We laughed, we cried, we danced the night away. And at the end of the day I had a sister and my brother had a wife!<br />
<img alt="" class="fbPhotoImage img" height="320" id="fbPhotoImage" src="https://scontent-b-dfw.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/q71/s720x720/1390763_10152135405492446_1983113150_n.jpg" width="213" /><br />
<br />
<br />
We are WICKED excited to see all that God is going to do in 2014.<br />
<br />
<br />Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-54776479462722834292013-10-22T14:38:00.000-07:002013-10-22T14:38:29.499-07:00When I Was On FireLast week my friend, Emily, posted a <a href="http://encouragementfromemily.blogspot.com/2013/10/when-i-was-on-fire_19.html?spref=fb" target="_blank">blog by the same title</a>. It was part of a greater collaboration that you can ready <a href="http://addiezierman.com/?p=2586">here.</a> The author urges other writers to open up about their journey of faith.<br />
<br />
While reading Em's post I sat on the couch and cried. Y'all it was beautiful because it was a direct reflection of her heart. I remember those times. I saw her walk through them. I saw the light return to her eyes when Jesus healed her heart.<br />
<br />
Last week in my kids Sunday School class they learned about Abraham and Sarah. They were told the story of how Sarah desperately wanted a child and how God promised that it would one day happen. Of course the next question was: Why did God choose to tell us about this? What is the point of this story?<br />
<br />
The Bible is a guide to the heart of the God. On each page his character is revealed through the way that he interacts with his children. He shares this story of His character to illustrate that he is who he says he is, and he will do what he says he will do.<br />
<br />
I think that's what our testimonies are. Evidence of the character of God....and should be shared!<br />
<br />
Beth Moore tweeted the other day "Our testimony of Christ's work in our past is powerful and needs retelling, but our testimony is ongoing. Our today is part of tomorrow's story." <br />
<br />
So......<br />
Here's my story.<br />
<br />
I am one of the fortunate few with parents who raised me in church. We were there every time the doors were open. When I was in elementary school a missionary came and spoke one Sunday night. I remember thinking that if the pastor was close to God then this missionary must be God's BFF. I honestly don't remember where he was from or who he was working with, but I do remember praying that night:<br />
<br />
"God, I will go anywhere you want me to go, and do anything you want me to do, just please don't make me a missionary"<br />
<br />
In my mind a missionary lived in a hut far away from their family in the desert in Africa. It seemed like the job that you didn't want, but had no choice in doing because God asked you to do it. <br />
It took me many years to understand that God really does have my best interest at heart.<br />
<br />
Although I chose Jesus and was baptized when I was 9 years old, I didn't really understand what that would look like until I went to middle school. It was rough. For the first time in my life I was faced with the decisions to go with the flow or I could do what I knew was right. I would LOVE to be able to tell you that I let temptation roll off my back like water off a duck. Alas, that was not the case. I learned, like most girls do, to gossip and put other people down, all the while attempting to cover up the internal battle I was facing.<br />
<br />
At summer camp that year a man named Roger Glidewell spoke. His words changed my life. In a very dramatic way he showed an auditorium of middle school kids what it looks like when you fall for anything this world has to offer. I knew that I had to make a choice. I knew that it wouldn't be easy. I knew that it would cause me to be a bigger outcast than I already was. I also knew that this was the hill I had to die on. <br />
<br />
A few years later, when I was in 7th grade, I felt like God was calling me to full time ministry. Growing up in a Southern Baptist Church that call didn't make any sense to me. (They are still not super fond of women in leadership) One Wednesday night, during church dinner, I sat at the secretary's desk and penned a letter to my youth pastor. I poured out my heart and shared what I thought God was calling me to, but that I really wanted to work with animals. I still have his sweet reply tucked in a bible. He encouraged me to seek God's will for my life, and that God wouldn't call me to something to make me miserable. He reminded me that we are all called to be mission minded and that being a light regardless of my career choice was the key.<br />
<br />
When I was in 10th grade my family moved to a different local church. It was a difficult transition as I left behind all the people I had grown up with. The youth group at our new church was still a good size and many of them were people I knew from school. They took me right in and loved on me!<br />
<br />
It's difficult being a teenager. You question where you fit in, who you belong with, and who you are. During this time I suffered from a broken heart. Months went by and I didn't hear from any of my old church friends. I had known many of them sine I was two, and I was began to realize that maybe we weren't friends at all. My new youth group was sweet, but I felt like an outsider looking in. They had grown up together and had a world of history with each other that I just wasn't part of. At one point, just before a mission trip, we went around in a circle and encouraged each other. There were several girls that our youth pastor said she wishes that she had given birth to....I was not one of them.<br />
<br />
Honestly, it hurt. I felt more alone in those next years than I ever had. Like I was floating in the English Channel, not sure which landmass I should paddle toward.<br />
<br />
Thankfully I had my surrogate family....the band. Yes, I was/am/always will be a band nerd! One night, after an away game in the playoffs, I had two seats to myself on the charter bus. I was thankful that no one was sitting with me bacuse I was dreadfully sick. Just as we started moving this tall, lanky boy decided that he needed my extra seat so that he could talk to the boy across the isle. I reluctantly let him have the seat, but promised to sleep on his shoulder and drool on him the whole way home.<br />
<br />
Two weeks later I informed his sister that I would marry him one day. I was adamant. Everyone knew that he was mine. It took two years, and 3 other girls for him to catch up. We went to our senior prom together, where he asked me to be his girlfriend. Seven months later, at the stroke of midnight, on New Year's Eve he asked me to be his wife. Eight months after that we were married.<br />
<br />
We both grew up in Christian homes. We knew that community with other believers was crucial, but we had such a hard time finding our place.<br />
<br />
We were young. I was 19 and he had just turned 21. The people sitting next to us in Sunday School one morning told us "I don't even remember what it was like to be a newlywed."<br />
<br />
This comment was less than encouraging.<br />
<br />
Church became an option. Sleep and a day off became the victor.<br />
<br />
We still believed in everything that we always had, but life consumed us and we were overwhelmed. We struggled to keep our heads above water...spiritually, mentally, and financially. <br />
<br />
October of 2002 would change our lives forever. We found out we were expecting our first child. I was miserable. I slept all the time and could only keep down pineapple, Coke Icee, and soft pretzels from the mall. In June of 2003 we welcomed our daughter, Camber Elise.<br />
<br />
The most amazing time in our life was overshadowed by the fact that I had severe postpartum depression. I remember telling my mom that I was going to leave Camber outside and hope that someone would just come get her, I just felt worthless. I was sure that I didn't have what it took to raise a child and that I would end up doing more harm than good.Thankfully my OB saw right through me at my 6 weeks checkup and gave a name to what I had been feeling. Things slowly started to get better and I began to enjoy being a mom.<br />
<br />
With these new changes in our lives we started attending the church that I grew up in. Camber was the reason we started going back to church.<br />
<br />
When Camber was 10 months old we packed everything we would immediately need into our red Dodge Neon and drove overnight to Michigan. Mark's mom had cancer and was being released to hospice. We arrived on Thrusday afternoon as they were getting her all settled. Sunday was Mother's Day...and the last day she was concious.<br />
<br />
I hadn't been feeling myself, but I chalked it up to all the stress that we were going through. Mark begged me to take a pregnancy test, so I obliged. In just a few minutes two pink lines stared us back in the face. Baby number two would arrive in December of 2004.<br />
<br />
Four days later, Thursday, May 13th, Marcia was permanently healed and went to be with Jesus. My heart broke every night as my husband, my pillar of strength, laid in the bed sobbing so hard it made him cough. There was nothing that I could do...<br />
<br />
In the long months after Marcia's death we tried to decide if we were going to stay in Michigan or move back to Florida. We decided to come back. Cooper was born in December of 2004.<br />
<br />
Life was a series of blurs.<br />
<br />
We eventually landed in Milton, FL, which is outside Pensacola. We found a church that we loved and we got involved quickly. We attended small groups, worked in the nursery, served coffee etc.<br />
<br />
Around the time that Mark was turning 30 (2009) he started having panic attacks. He felt like he was choking and spent a good portion of the morning throwing up. He saw a few doctors and they prescribed some medication, but I knew that it had to be more than that. I asked our pastors to pray for him because it seemed he was wrestling with something big.<br />
<br />
Our small group at the time was reading Francis Chan's book <a href="http://crazylovebook.com/">Crazy Love</a>. Mark had also gotten a book from our pastor called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Barbarian-Way-Unleash-Untamed/dp/0785264329">The Barbarian Way</a> by McManus. <br />
<br />
While at work one day he sent me a cryptic e mail. "I think it's missions" is all it said. I knew exactly what he was talking about.<br />
<br />
We began to pray together about what full time ministry looked for us. What kind of clothes does it wear?<br />
<br />
We had been reading through a devotional bible and one December day Mark left it on my desk with a passage marked. The devotion that day was about St. Patrick. It explained that Patrick was an Englishman who was kidnapped by pirates and enslaved in Ireland. He later escaped and went back to England. As an adult he had a vision that the people of Ireland were calling him back to tell them about Jesus.<br />
<br />
It's an interesting story. It didn't seem to belong in a devotional in December, but God was guiding us. Mark has something in common with Patrick. As a boy his father was in the Air Force. He spent the majority of his life overseas. Now, back in the states, he felt that God was calling him to his childhood home of Panama.<br />
<br />
We continued to pray.<br />
<br />
For Christmas that year we got the kids the VeggieTales video St. Nicholas. The video started out with the French Peas packing up a box for <a href="http://www.samaritanspurse.org/what-we-do/operation-christmas-child/">Operation Christmas Child</a>, a ministry of Samaritian's Purse. Larry accidentally falls into the box and in preparation for the box to be shipped they put the tag on that tells where he is going....<br />
<br />
Panama.<br />
<br />
After this we started seeking God in who/ what/ how of going overseas.<br />
<br />
Mark remembered being involved with Youth With A Mission when he lived there, so we started to research the requirements of being missionaries with YWAM. The first stop was a Discipleship Training School (DTS).<br />
<br />
The DTS is held in Janurary and July each year. It is comprised of 3 months of 'school.' Where a different teacher comes in each week and teaches on a different subject. The last two months are set aside for outreach. Each school is different. Some schools have the outreach already planed, some pray and seek God to show them where to go. Some include the price of the outreach in the total cost of the school, some fund raise together as a group.<br />
<br />
We started a budget, contacted YWAM, and made plans to start our DTS in January of 2011. <br />
<br />
My parents sweetly allowed us, and our two rugrats, to move in with them in an effort to be able to save even more money. A few times along the way we questioned if Janurary was right for us, or if we should go in July. It just made more sense for it to be Janurary because we would have all the money we'd need by then.<br />
<br />
In June, 3 weeks before we were scheduled to leave, we realized that God was asking us to trust him. With only half the money we needed we stepped out, believing that he was going to provide, and announced that we would be leaving in July.<br />
<br />
July 27, 2010. I cried most of the way to Panama. Who does this? Were we crazy?<br />
We landed and were picked up by one of our leaders, Dale. We had nearly an hour drive back to the base in Chilibre. As we drove through town my heart melted. <br />
<br />
How can you love a people that you've never met?<br />
<br />
The next days were a whirlwind of meeting our team and attempting to adjust.<br />
<br />
After a few weeks in Panama we headed to Costa Rica to celebrate with the rest of Central America YWAM's 50th anniversary. We were blessed to be able to hear YWAM's founder, Loren Cunningham, speak. He is a wonderfully sweet man who is a visionary. He has such a heart for the nations and desires them to see God for who he is.<br />
<br />
After a secret team building week in Talamanca, Costa Rica, we headed to Isla Bastamentos. An island off the coast of Panama in the Bocas del Torro region. <br />
<br />
The whole time we were praying about where god would have us do our outreach. Finally, as a team, we felt that God was asking us to go to Europe to encourage the body of Christ there. Our outreach would be spent in England, Norway, Germany, Northern Ireland, Spain, and France.<br />
<br />
Preparations had been made, flights booked, clothes purchased, and we were off!<br />
<br />
We arrived in England exhausted. <br />
<br />
Y'all I am not one of those people can push through exhaustion. I NEED sleep!<br />
<br />
That entire first day I was passed out. I got up for dinner and went right back to bed. We worked, we prayed, we laughed, we explored London. Then it was on to Norway.<br />
<br />
Norway is beautiful! Except for the fact that the place we stayed is in the middle of the valley of seven mountains. It rains 350 days a year! Since most Norwegians speak English we were charged with going to mall one day and starting converstaions. The mall was a few miles away, and it was pouring rain.<br />
We walked. <br />
I. WAS. LIVID.<br />
I was cold and wet and angry that anyone could have thought this was a good idea. I had a 5 and 7 year old with me and prayed the whole time that they didn't get sick.<br />
I am also one of those girls who can't hid her emotions. Our leaders, David and Cerrita, knew I was angry. They said nothing.<br />
<br />
It was a few days later when they locked Mark and I in the kitchen to 'talk.' Our leaders were concerned about attitudes that had been displayed. We talked, heatedly, for several hours. I shared my heart and felt like I was heard. I walked out of that intervention thinking that things would be different. That control would be loosened and that we would remember that we were all on the same team with the same end goal.<br />
<br />
Two days later we were back where we started. I was in trouble again for discussing our secret meeting with another team member. I went to him to see if he had any advice, because I didn't feel that the leaders could give godly advice anymore. Talking to them felt like I was talking to a brick wall. I would share my heart just to be told "You shouldn't feel that way" and "That's not what is happening."<br />
<br />
We left Norway for Germany. A church there had graciously found lodging for all of us and offered to help us in ministry all week. Germany was a really good time. We were on the same page. We were encouraged by the church. We laughed, played games, danced, and really felt like God was doing something big in this oppressed area.<br />
<br />
One night, as a thank you to the church, we created a four course meal that we served to them. I was in the kitchen with one of the other leaders and two team mates. The atmosphere was pleasant. We joked about the potatoes that some of the boys picked out. (Yes, there is a difference between sweet potatoes and white potatoes)<br />
<br />
Dinner was a huge success and we left Germany with full hearts and in expectation for what God would continue to do.<br />
<br />
It was in Spain that our trip took a turn for the worse. We had planned an American Thanksgiving dinner for the people of the church and spent all day cooking and baking. That evening we were to host the event and mingle with the church goers. The kids asked if we could have dinner at McDonalds, which wasn't far from where we were staying. We went downstairs to ask David if that would be ok. He immediately said "Yes." I noticed that his best friend, one of the other team members was upset at his decision, but I didn't think anything of it.<br />
<br />
When we were half way up the stairs David ran after us explaining that he couldn't allow us to go out that night, and that one of us would need to be present at the event. We said that we understood and went back upstairs to our cooking.<br />
<br />
On the way back to the loft I told Mark that I felt like David's decision weighed heavily on his best friend being upset. I felt like she was the reason we were told no. <br />
<br />
In an attempt to not let this issue fester and become a greater bitterness, which I had issues with in the past, I asked Mark to come with me to talk to David.<br />
<br />
We got to his flat and he let us in. I explained how I felt and how it seemed that Andera's annoyance is the reason that he told us no. He assured me that this was not the case. I explained again that it seemed as if it was, and we didn't understand the reasoning behind us needing to be at the event if we wern't serving or part of the drama. He raised his voice and said "Are you calling me a liar?"<br />
When I started to respond he yelled again "Are you calling me a liar?"<br />
<br />
Being that I don't handle confrontation well, I turned to walk out saying that I just needed a minute. David reached between Mark and I and slammed the door. He kept yelling that I wasn't going to go anywhere, and that I was going to have to stay and hash everything out. By this point I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe, so he allowed us to leave and we went back to our flat.<br />
<br />
The night dragged on. Mark went downstairs to attend the event and I stayed upstairs with the kids. David let us know that all the leaders wanted to talk with us the following morning.<br />
<br />
I was thankful that my friend, Lauren, stayed with me (she was wicked sick because of her pregnancy). I talked to her about how I had been feeling, and she tried to help me form complete sentances that I would take into this meeting to make sure that I was able to get my point across.<br />
<br />
I shared with her my fear that they would kick us out or leave us in Spain. She assured me that those thoughts were crazy! After all, it was our intention to move to Panama and be on staff with David and his wife Cerrita at the new base they would be opening in the city. Mark and David had just had a three hour converstaion the day before about 'when we move to Panama.'<br />
<br />
The next morning was grim. My eyes were puffy from crying and I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to express myself correctly to our leaders.<br />
<br />
When our meeting started I shared what I was feeling. They were met with more "You shouldn't feel that way" and "That's not what is happening." Honestly, after about 10 minutes I gave up. I felt like there was no point in trying to talk at all if everything I said and thought and felt was going to be shot down.<br />
<br />
It was then that David informed us that our "Time with them had come to an end." Mark was shell shocked. All I could say was "What did I tell you..."<br />
<br />
In the end the leaders of our group decided that I "hadn't shown enough growth in submitting to authority."<br />
<br />
They informed us that we were no longer welcome to travel with them. We walked out of that room defeated, broken, and confused. <br />
<br />
We were scheduled to leave for France the next day.<br />
<br />
We walked down to the closest place that had wifi and proceeded to call our family to figure out how to get home.<br />
<br />
All the while David was meeting with the rest of the team to explain that we had chosen to leave and that we were going to be fine and that we had already secured travel back home.<br />
<br />
NONE. OF. IT. WAS. TRUE.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, Lauren's husband, Mike, spoke up and asked that the leaders figure out how to get us home.<br />
<br />
We were then told that the tickets to France had already been purchased, so we could use them. Once in France we'd be on our own.<br />
<br />
We landed in Paris and watched our team walk away, headed to their next destination. We paid for 24 access to airport wifi, got the kids some dinner, and then began looking for a place to stay that wouldn't cost us everything we had. <br />
<br />
After a $75 cab ride we slumped into bed exhausted....mentally, physically, and emotionally.<br />
<br />
The next day we got bundled up and went exploring. We found a McDonalds, the train, and a nearby grocery store. We loaded up on food for the next few days and headed back for the warmth of the hotel so Mark and I could research ways to get from France to London, where our return flight would take us back to Atlanta.<br />
<br />
We decided that since this was probably the only chance we'd ever get we would take the Chunnel. We purchased our tickets and prepared for the next day. Our day in Paris.<br />
<br />
Paris was beautiful. Our children have seen things that most adults have never seen. The Arc de Triumph, the Eiffel Tower, the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo. We were happy to have a day to decompress and not think about anything.<br />
<br />
The nights were the worst. With the kids asleep I would replay events over and over in my mind trying to see where I could have been different.<br />
<br />
In the end I felt like a failure. I felt like we heard wrong, like we made the wrong move. I questioned if we went at the right time, or if we should have gone at all. <br />
<br />
We later found out that tickets from France to London had been purchased weeks ago. We were told that if we could get to the airport on time we were welcome to use them. (Thankfully that evening there was a snow storm, and Eurorail was willing to refund our Chunnel tickets.)<br />
<br />
Once in London we had to take a bus and 3 trains to get to the correct airport. We spent the night there knowing that the next day we would be home, and could begin processing everything that just happened.<br />
<br />
My mom and grandmother were in Atlanta to meet us. I couldn't even speak. I stared out the window the 6 hours home listening to Mark snore. I was numb.<br />
<br />
The following day we sat down with our pastor, he opened with telling us that he thought we went at the wrong time....that we didn't hear correctly.<br />
<br />
I felt defeated. We were certain that God had orchestrated everything, but we couldn't understand why. To have someone that you know and trust and love tell you that they think that you made a wrong choice, when you know you made the right one. If my heart could have been any more broken it would have.<br />
<br />
Days turned to weeks. We shared parts of our story with the people close to us. They cried with us, prayed with us, and prayed for us. Lauren and I talked a few times a week to encourage each other and try and help each other process through emotions and the things that God was speaking to us.<br />
<br />
Y'all.....God is faithful. He stayed with us. Spoke to us. Showed us his heart.<br />
<br />
He helped us take what we needed to learn from, keep the good memories, and toss aside anything that wasn't of any use.<br />
<br />
He provided for us the entire time. We were never in need.<br />
<br />
He has been the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night (Exodus 13).<br />
<br />
He has lighted our paths...though not always as bright as we felt we needed.<br />
<br />
Looking back now, after the scars have healed over, my heart hurts for the relationships that are broken.<br />
<br />
We have come a long way. We still believe in the promise that we will be able to leave the country again and equip others to go.<br />
<br />
There are days when I feel like there is some great potential that I should be living up to, and am not.<br />
<br />
Then there are days when a co-worker thanks me for being a godly influence in her life.<br />
<br />
It all evens out.<br />
<br />
Everyday I seek opportunities to share how good God is. <br />
<br />
My faith doesn't look like it did when I was in 7th grade, but I am thankful for that. <br />
It has grown, it has deepened, it is richer.<br />
<br />
I trust God more explicitly now. I have anecdotal proof that he is on
my side and works all things together for my good.(Romans 8:29) <br />
<br />
The second my feet touched the ground in Panama I knew that God was opening a place in my heart that I didn't know existed. I was built for this. My heart beats for people who are not my own. My deepest desire is that God reveals himself in a might and undeniable way to his people. I will do anything I can to point people to source of unfailing joy.Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-46881809982877921112013-10-02T12:15:00.000-07:002013-10-02T12:28:50.953-07:00Real LifeYesterday, while reading the blog of a self proclaimed <a href="http://www.theveryworstmissionary.com/" target="_blank">horrible missionary*</a>, I came across something that inspired me. In this <a href="http://www.theveryworstmissionary.com/2013/05/deciphering-missions.html" target="_blank">particular post</a> Jamie was recounting their family's first day on the mission field and the culture shock that ensued. Sure, they were in a country that was not their own, surrounded by people who spoke a different language, yet, she speaks of the biggest culture shock being how to speak <i>missionary</i>.<br />
<br />
On our adventures we have met amazing people who are still active in ministry all over the world. Reading how God is showing up and showing out through the globe is one of my favorite things to do! <span style="font-size: small;">(I may, or may not, be living vicariously through these people.)</span><br />
<br />
Jamie's blog really hit home for me. Sometimes being a missionary isn't glamorous. There will be days where you feel like you're standing still. I know when we were overseas I found myself tempted to only write home about the amazing and awe-inspiring things that were going on. I knew that only my mom and grandmother would care that all I did one week was manage to home school the kids for a few hours every day. <span style="font-size: small;">(Granted, I DID teach Cooper to read during those 5 months!)</span><br />
<br />
My biggest fear was that people wouldn't want to support a family that seems to be doing nothing more than surviving. <br />
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I want people to know what is going on in our lives. I want then to know when God is doing an amazing work, but I also want people to know that there are times when keeping my family fed/alive/in clean clothes will be all that we can muster.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.theveryworstmissionary.com/2013/05/the-sexiest-missionary-wins.html" target="_blank">Another of Jamie's entries</a> talks about the drama that the church seeks in missions. The missions that we pour our money into are the ones that seems the most intriguing, the coolest, the most dangerous.<br />
What we fail to realize is that <i>"drama steals a missionary away from the good and important things they should be doing."</i><br />
<br />
She goes on to say <i>"Every missionary's well-being depends on a trustworthy
relationship with their supporters, and the ability to express their
struggles, defeats, and failures without fear of losing their
resources."</i><br />
<br />
<br />
It is that single statement that encouraged me to write again<i>.</i><br />
Sure, God has moved, and provided, and spoken through pastors, and songs, and sweet friends.<br />
But the day to day has been....well...day to day.<br />
<br />
In an effort to make/maintain trustworthy relationships with those who have been fervent to pray us through our struggles, defeats, failures, and seasons of rest and growth this is what is going on in our lives:<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Mark:</b> Mark is a full time student at Liberty University. He is studying to complete his Bachelor's Degree in Biblical Studies. Most of his days are spent curled up on the couch reading volumes and volumes of literature that further cement his biblical knowledge. At 3 pm every day he takes a break from his studies and puts on his SUPER DAD cape. He picks the kiddos up from school. His afternoons are filled with spelling words, math problems, reading, Legos, Wii games, and board games. Every now and then he likes to relax with a good game of Call of Duty on the XBox. (And we like to laugh at the noises he makes!)<br />
<br />
<b>Kim: </b>Kim is working full time as a Customer Service Rep/ Dispatcher at AirCon, a local HVAC repair company. She is also making delicious sweets through her home bakery, SweetMama's Cakery. In addition to all of that she is also attending Liberty University full time finishing her Bachelor's Degree in Psychology. At this moment she is waiting to hear back from a surgeon to schedule back surgery. Three herniated discs in her lower back cause a great deal of pain for her daily.<br />
<br />
<b>Camber:</b> Camber is in the 5th grade at Bay Area Charter School. She was SUPER excited to find out that her teacher has room pets this year. They have a very large bunny rabbit as well as some zebra finches that come to visit. She loves math and science and is looking forward to going away with the other 5th graders to a science based camp this fall. This is her 2nd year in ballet and she loves every second of it. She dances at a Christian studio and we are very thankful for their lessons on modesty and worship. This year she joined Grace Community Church's NOIZE academy. They are a worship focused group that teaches children about being a positive influence in their communities. They sing songs, learn about the meaning behind the songs, and dance their guts out for 2 hours every Saturday.<br />
<br />
<b>Cooper:</b> Cooper is in the 3rd grade at Bay Area Charter School. He likes school, but tends to get done with his work quicker than the other students, so we are working with him on appropriate uses of time when others are still working. He loves to read!! He also likes Legos and playing games on the Wii or Minecraft on the XBox. We are looking into extra curricular activities for him now. One of the girls at church teaches swim and he has expressed an interest there. Mark has suggested fencing, but that seems like the worst plan ever to me. We still have a flyer on the fridge for Cub Scouts that we really need to check into for him.<br />
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We are all involved in our local church, OneLife. We have made amazing friends that have come along side of us, laughed with us, cried with us, and challenged us to really seek God's face.<br />
<br />
We had seen this period as "hurry up and wait," but a wise friend showed us that this is a "safe place for us to grow."<br />
We have grasped onto this and are taking every opportunity to learn how to be leaders in our church and community. We want to be an open book. We want people to know what is going on in our lives and what our day to day looks like!<br />
<br />
Right now, for us, life looks like....life. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">*I am pretty sure i love the heart behind
Jamie's blog. I think that a real, unfiltered account of the life of a
missionary needs to be spoken about. I, in no way, shape, or form,
condone some of the things that she says or the way she says them. Just
to clear that up.</span>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-73748264778312182172013-02-08T06:48:00.000-08:002013-10-02T05:01:15.592-07:00Alice In WonderlandIt's official.....this week is SO not my favorite!<br />
<br />
Yesterday I "took the day off" and decided that it was a PJ and movie sort of day. I laid around hoped that some of my favorite feel good movies would snap me out of the funk I'd been in.<br />
<br />
Do you ever have those days....or weeks...where you just can't seem to get the hang of forward motion?<br />
<br />
I don't have anything to be deeply depressed over (which my sweet husband reminds me of frequently). We have a home, we have food, everyone is generally in good health, the lights and water work, we have clothes to wear (and super cute ones too!), we have a vehicle to take us where we need to go, and money to keep gas in the tank.<br />
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Honestly, (and listen closely because I don't say this often) I was feeling selfish.<br />
<br />
There have been some amazing things happening in the life of our church. God has been moving in an undeniable way.<br />
<br />
But, in the midst of this, I've been feeling kind of invisible. Not only to God, but to everyone else.<br />
<br />
Right now we're in a season where God is teaching us (O.K., it's probably just me) to REALLY trust him. He is proving over and over again that he can be trusted and that we have nothing to fear.<br />
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This week I've been hopelessly human. I have not only been speaking my soul into submission, but practically having to beat it with a stick!<br />
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The first Wednesday of every month our church gathers together to pray. This past Wednesday was a little different because our pastor had called us to also fast, believing that God was going to reveal himself in an incredible and new way.<br />
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All day long, on the church's Facebook page, were stories of how God had shown who he really is. I went through the day battling one thing after another and struggled with 'rejoicing with those who rejoice.'<br />
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Evening rolled around and we gathered together to pray. I honestly wasn't feeling it...which was the exact reason I dragged my tail there. It was a sweet time of worship, and many people brought every ounce of faith that they had that God was going to move. I believe that he is.....but I just couldn't get my soul to get on board.<br />
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Yesterday, after the kiddos got home, I turned on Alice in Wonderland (the new Tim Burton version).<br />
<br />
I love that movie :D<br />
It's crazy, and dark, and weird, and Ann Hathaway cracks me up.<br />
<br />
At the end of the movie Alice fights on behalf of the good queen. She acquires a special sword called Vorpal and she sets off to slay the Jabberwocky (the evil queen's dragon champion).<br />
<br />
During the entire movie Alice is convinced that she is dreaming....she can't fathom that this is reality because of the sheer madness of it all. She doesn't believe in herself, she doesn't think she has what it takes to slay this beast...it's impossible.<br />
Then she remembers something her father used to say to her...."I believe in as many as six impossible things before breakfast"<br />
<br />
She then starts counting the impossible things that she's encountered in Wonderland. The sixth is that she CAN slay the Jabberwocky.....and she does.<br />
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Today...I am Alice.<br />
<br />
This week I have felt that my situations are impossible.<br />
But I've forgotten that my father has given me a sword to slay the beast.<br />
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Today I am believing<br />
<br />
I believe God is who he says he is<br />
I believe God will do what he says he will do<br />
I believe that he will never leave or forsake me<br />
I believe that he is the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night<br />
I believe that he is guiding my footsteps even though I feel like I'm caught in quicksand<br />
I believe that he has a plan and a purpose for my life<br />
I believe that I am not alone<br />
I believe that he sees me....really sees me<br />
I believe that he is moving<br />
<br />
<br />
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What are you believing God for today?Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-825544443583576034.post-9503523969072800862013-01-04T23:46:00.001-08:002014-01-17T09:07:07.410-08:00Trust MeA sweet friend posted this poster on her facebook pages the other day.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWNylCayPiG55L51NYlC71pFuFts64EDlzhSfeakvi-XyKmzB2naXBvdqUI5R0scbYqPNno9QsFPZxb6Mu6evtfyytrE2ceUqZJ2F3G1-C7TqGHWSg9M8-J6uFkhi_Ykd9AJmEFU2ti-En/s1600/Trust+Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWNylCayPiG55L51NYlC71pFuFts64EDlzhSfeakvi-XyKmzB2naXBvdqUI5R0scbYqPNno9QsFPZxb6Mu6evtfyytrE2ceUqZJ2F3G1-C7TqGHWSg9M8-J6uFkhi_Ykd9AJmEFU2ti-En/s1600/Trust+Me.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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It made me smile, and not in the 'how sweet' sort of way. It was more of a "Yes Lord, I DO hear you." sort of way!<br />
<br />
The last few months have been amazing and crazy for our family.<br />
<br />
Back in June we moved from Florida to Texas. We came here to be closer to family and for the prospect of a better job market. We moved into our apartment, got all the boxes unpacked, and then began the tedious process of finding a church.<br />
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I had done some church hunting online before we even moved and had narrowed it down to a list of 3. We visited the first one, and they were some of the nicest people that I've met! The really loved on us which made us feel very welcome, but I just couldn't 'see' us there. (And yes, I know how bad that sounds!)<br />
<br />
The next church we were pleased to find was less than 5 minutes from the apartment. They met in a school auditorium (which we were used to). The moment we stepped in I could feel the presence of God. I was moved to tears and we had been there approximatly 5 seconds!<br />
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The worship was incredible and the message was exactly what we needed to hear. But it was in the stories of some of the members of the church that God really took our breath away.<br />
<br />
One man spoke of having moved to Houston to be part of the church. They had lived on savings for a while and he had been looking for a job. He went on to say that his dream job was to work for NASA. He searched their open positions and found one that he was qualified for. He applied and got the job and was starting soon.<br />
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This story inspired me. I knew that God not only PROVIDES for us, but BLESSES us. <br />
<br />
In my attempts to bring in any income that I could I mentioned to some of the ladies in the church that I possess the ability to decorate cakes. <br />
<br />
The following Sunday I was approached by a sweet woman. She said that
she has a home based pie business that sells to a local bakery. She
said the owner of the bakery was looking for some help.<br />
<br />
I drove to the bakery and met with the owner, showed her my portfolio and had a very brief conversation in which she offered me the job.<br />
<br />
I started out as a bakery assistant. I baked cakes and cupcakes for the week as well as making a few special treats for the front case. A few weeks in the 'cupcake' girl quit unexpectedly. I was asked to take over her position.<br />
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A few weeks later the cake decorater left her position to take a job that provided health insurance. I was asked to take over her position.<br />
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I couldn't believe how amazing God had been to me. He had more than provided for our family. <br />
More so than that he had given me a chance to proclaim who he was to a group of people who were struggling with what they believe.<br />
<br />
The owner of the bakery grew up in church, but after a tragedy in high school she had turned away from God. The cook was raised Catholic, but wasn't sure what that really meant. My assistant had recently gone through a tragedy herself when her infant daughter was suddenly killed.<br />
<br />
God opened doors for me to speak life into these people. He gave me chance upon chance upon chance to share my experience with peace that passes all understanding. There were many times where I could tell that what I was saying was hitting home for them. We had many 'inappropriate' work conversations ranging from peace in this life to the presence of spiritual gifts!<br />
<br />
Mid November was stressful. The owner of the bakery was having trouble making ends meet. Being that she had three small children at home she had to make some tough decisions. She decided that the bakery would have to close the store front, but she may be able to continue out of her home.<br />
<br />
I braced myself for being unemployed once again.<br />
<br />
I received my last paycheck and paid the bills that we had through the end of the month, but a new month was fast approaching and there was literally no money. I laid on the couch one night and cried and begged God to tell me what direction I was supposed to go.<br />
<br />
His response was "Be still." <br />
<br />
I reminded him that "still" doesn't pay the light bill!<br />
<br />
He again reminded me that he's never once not provided for us. I reminded Him that we needed at least $400 to pay bills.<br />
Christmas was a few days away and we were spending a lot of time with Mom and Dad as Hef (my brother Jonathan) was home for the holiday. Still in the back of my mind I wondered how our finances were magically going to take care of themselves.<br />
<br />
For Christmas my grandmother blessed our family with $300. Three days later a friend called me to help her with a wedding cake that was slowly causing her to lose her mind. She paid me $100.<br />
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There it was. That magic number. But God had to do one better. Mark was able to return one of his school books and received a $78 refund. <br />
<br />
I am convinced of His goodness!Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01264981047751883089noreply@blogger.com0