tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9230573351517605842024-03-13T07:20:45.092-04:00GraceFULL MomentsJournaling My Life, that's FULL of God's GraceUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger276125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-15181788399584981672013-11-03T19:46:00.002-05:002013-11-03T19:50:20.303-05:00These Men Make Me Think It is Time to Grow Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bbUeItRHwO8/UnbqcxjIAbI/AAAAAAAABmc/VlMNIF7HkcM/s1600/guys+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </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="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TheQaonUjB4/UnbqfN5SfUI/AAAAAAAABmk/Bvkxq3GZbTc/s1600/guys+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TheQaonUjB4/UnbqfN5SfUI/AAAAAAAABmk/Bvkxq3GZbTc/s320/guys+005.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nate (14) and Micah (16)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<strike>Four</strike> Three and a half years. Count them. Three and a half is all I have left before these guys are officially "adults."<br />
<br />
It is unbelievable to me that it is possible that both of our sons are in high school, teenagers, boys that have grown into men. They have made the leap from baby fuzz to shaving, dirty t-shirts and jeans to designer clothes and their very own styles, sweaty and stinky to long showers and smelling of cologne. Now I understand there is still quite a process to complete here but it seems we have started over the hill and are looking back over our shoulders at the glory days. It is almost too much for this mama to handle.<br />
<br />
I have and still do love being a mom and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I am just sensing that it is time to be intentional about sorting through dreams, plans, good intentions to determine which are truly from the Lord, meant to be fulfilled and which are not. It is a redefining of sorts. It's exciting and it's even a bit intimidating. We shall see what comes out in the wash as they say...<br />
<br />
Seeing my sons step into manhood challenges me to pray for discernment and courage as I think it may be time to FINALLY grow up.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-10867231969156879072012-08-09T23:16:00.001-04:002013-11-03T19:13:42.962-05:00Patient Prodding<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pq1Ka4tjkzg/UCR9FU1Y9cI/AAAAAAAABk8/feCLEDBJGG8/s1600/poker.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
I have a son who is in an interesting phase right now. He is riding the line between wise choices and self will. My heart longs for him to get it right. Learn the lesson. Choose the best. Yet, I find it so easy to identify what his problem is because I myself struggle with that very problem. Don't we all? How often do we lean to the comfort of self will when we know maybe we are leaning a little too far off the track. <br />
<br />
I find myself prayerful. Lord, what is the balance between grace and discipline. How far does grace stretch? When does discipline fall so that choices don't become bad habits? And again I identify far too easily. The Lords grace has never run out on me yet I have also been disciplined.<br />
<br />
The Lord is showing me that I am to patiently prod just like He does to me. So, now. What can I use for my poker? Oh, wait a minute I feel something poking me in the back.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-32503915427775628892012-05-15T22:14:00.000-04:002012-05-15T22:14:32.915-04:00Giving them UpI vividly remember being called to give my first son up before he even took his first breath on this earth. I sat on a hard, rough bench feeling the burden of carrying him inside. It was hot, the dust burned my eyes and the sound of African music boomed in my ears. My hands were busy holding an orphaned little one that we purposed to love and treat sweetly every Sunday we had the chance. As I fussed with the little guy filling up my lap my own little one was kicking me hard from the inside reminding me he was there as well. I will never forget sensing in my spirit that as real as the little one sitting in my lap so was the the tiny one fluttering in my womb. I was drawn to offer him back to the Lord. Not to give him over, but to give him back. He had first been the Lord's and I was only given the privilege of mothering him for as many years as the Lord determined. I knew that instinctively so it was natural for me to choose to give him back. <br />
<br />
As I sat by my youngest sons bedside in a make shift hospital ward with his very bruised and broken body moaning next to me I once again was drawn to give a son back to the Lord. Feeling helpless, afraid and completely stranded I was brought to my knees. Nothing reminds us of our inability like helplessness.<br />
<br />
Many things happen in innocence and naivity that you don't often understand the implications of until much later in life. For me the giving back of my boys to the Lord has been a continual process at crucial points over the last 15 years of mothering. None have been easy but they have all been sweet because I know that the Lord loves my children far more than I. So very often the crucial points of faith come when we see our utter despair and brokenness and know we have nothing left to give. God in His divine goodness has allowed me the honor of needing him desperately. I am so very grateful!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-2004731057389349772012-05-15T21:55:00.001-04:002012-05-15T21:55:35.451-04:00It's a Hard Life<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This is Manuel with his wife and baby girl.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bogvVF0KVDk/T7MF6DkFnhI/AAAAAAAABko/1u8h674ArbM/s1600/manuel+and+laurinda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bogvVF0KVDk/T7MF6DkFnhI/AAAAAAAABko/1u8h674ArbM/s320/manuel+and+laurinda.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We have known Manuel since he was a boy. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He was an orphan at the first place we ever lived and ministered at in Mozambique-Maforga Christian Mission. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He has had a hard life but we are constantly amazed that he continues to press on. Regardless of the hardships of losing loved ones during the war, seeing unspeakable atrocities, growing up at an orphanage, suffering in poverty, robberies that have stripped away things he has worked hard for over and over, he has persevered. What a testimony. We will never truly understand what it is to live his life but we are so grateful that through it all he has remained a faithful friend and a faithful follower of the Lord. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
What a blessing to see him continue reaching out the orphans in need around him with the little he has even when we are far removed...continents away. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
What a joy to know he truly understands the gospel.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RJFCaLml8KU/T7MHbsWH7CI/AAAAAAAABkw/lsSu1Y24XHo/s1600/Emanuel+Cigarette+18.04.11+024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RJFCaLml8KU/T7MHbsWH7CI/AAAAAAAABkw/lsSu1Y24XHo/s320/Emanuel+Cigarette+18.04.11+024.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-19862173446367463532012-05-06T13:48:00.001-04:002012-05-06T13:48:10.636-04:00Moving AGAIN...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nXS3uEM3g-Q/T6a5PAaLJbI/AAAAAAAABkc/Ismv6MHSZK8/s1600/world+moving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nXS3uEM3g-Q/T6a5PAaLJbI/AAAAAAAABkc/Ismv6MHSZK8/s1600/world+moving.jpg" /></a></div>
In just four weeks we are moving AGAIN. This is something that I have experience with, that is for sure. Marc and I have been married 15 years now and by my rough estimate this will be our 23rd time moving. Yep, you read that correctly<strong> <em>23 times</em></strong>. You can probably imagine how stinkin' tired I am of packing :)<br />
<br />
As a missionary, you get used to moving or at least you try as it seems to be something you do often. You make your best effort to remain flexible and unattached to any particular home or furnishing as you realize there is a good possibility you will leave it sooner or later. We have had to start over more times than we can count. By start over, I mean arrive to a new place with only our suitcases and have to literally start over with finding furniture, dishes, a phone, everything. God has been so gracious to us over the years through his people as many, many times we have had items donated. <br />
<br />
But, in four weeks we will be buying our house and moving AGAIN. This time feels different somehow. Marc and I talk about keeping this home for a very long time. We are feeling as though we will finish raising the boys here and begin a new chapter of our life here as empty nesters and maybe even welcome grandchildren here. This is not to say that we will never leave it, even if for a time to return overseas someday but for now it feels like home and it is nice to sense that peace of being settled.<br />
<br />
So here I am trying to work up the energy to move just one last time -- for now!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-17165216604055540542012-04-14T19:58:00.000-04:002012-04-14T19:58:40.399-04:00Long Time, No Post...So, it's been about two months since I last posted. That may be my longest absence yet. Sorry. No particular reason really. There have been some changes around here but I really don't have an excuse for the silence. Anyway, some of the new things happening are...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">We are buying a house!</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="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6aj_P6lg18c/T4oKxQPYqMI/AAAAAAAABis/G0Xc-_lqs4w/s1600/026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6aj_P6lg18c/T4oKxQPYqMI/AAAAAAAABis/G0Xc-_lqs4w/s320/026.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our little cabin in the woods.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pbX0sWArTeE/T4oOLU12C_I/AAAAAAAABj8/0mnSzj1HLFc/s1600/April+2012+021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pbX0sWArTeE/T4oOLU12C_I/AAAAAAAABj8/0mnSzj1HLFc/s320/April+2012+021.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It has 5+ acres of woods to enjoy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Be_lAPK2E9U/T4oONVRZuWI/AAAAAAAABkE/B9KMzC8MHmM/s1600/April+2012+050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Be_lAPK2E9U/T4oONVRZuWI/AAAAAAAABkE/B9KMzC8MHmM/s320/April+2012+050.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And my favorite part is this lovely (although dirty) fireplace.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We got a new puppy!</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="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HMC-Iq80lMA/T4oLjRFFnEI/AAAAAAAABi8/5e4NjD8XASU/s1600/Spring+2012+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HMC-Iq80lMA/T4oLjRFFnEI/AAAAAAAABi8/5e4NjD8XASU/s320/Spring+2012+009.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here name is Sissy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"> I started working part-time, a couple mornings a week as the adminstrative assistant of the CareNet Pregnancy Center!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Spring has come.</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="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z1IqCDUF5_k/T4oNJnLRRlI/AAAAAAAABjE/RE5OtDCdKrY/s1600/April+2012+085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z1IqCDUF5_k/T4oNJnLRRlI/AAAAAAAABjE/RE5OtDCdKrY/s320/April+2012+085.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have the daffodils from our flower bed to prove it.<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">The boys have been keeping themselves entertained.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uMB-cjmeR0E/T4oNRgvSYmI/AAAAAAAABjc/WKZYVMq8ATo/s1600/April+2012+065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uMB-cjmeR0E/T4oNRgvSYmI/AAAAAAAABjc/WKZYVMq8ATo/s320/April+2012+065.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G3vdl7zDThc/T4oNTxTpsFI/AAAAAAAABjk/2opF0hGngkc/s1600/April+2012+066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G3vdl7zDThc/T4oNTxTpsFI/AAAAAAAABjk/2opF0hGngkc/s320/April+2012+066.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TinE6ekLNZI/T4oOmx3gCDI/AAAAAAAABkM/4djv_pGu8fw/s1600/April+2012+071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TinE6ekLNZI/T4oOmx3gCDI/AAAAAAAABkM/4djv_pGu8fw/s320/April+2012+071.JPG" width="320" /></a></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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ADw8mzTlTlg/T4oOq_OV_CI/AAAAAAAABkU/WHswpdZyXZ8/s1600/April+2012+079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ADw8mzTlTlg/T4oOq_OV_CI/AAAAAAAABkU/WHswpdZyXZ8/s320/April+2012+079.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't worry, he survived.<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So this is life...it continues on - at a rapid pace- but we are trying to remember to take in each moment :)</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-72624737117977721722012-02-13T14:09:00.000-05:002012-02-13T14:09:54.565-05:00Highschool Anxiety<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7CQsgSx3QkI/TzlfrgSI7uI/AAAAAAAABic/WPeI2CbkdDs/s1600/latest+124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7CQsgSx3QkI/TzlfrgSI7uI/AAAAAAAABic/WPeI2CbkdDs/s320/latest+124.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
So, my oldest son turned fourteen a few months ago which means come the fall it will be time for him to begin highschool. There is some serious anxiety happening about this. Not by him, BY ME. How on earth did this happen? When did my beautiful, chubby, easy going, blue eyed baby boy turn into a muscular, handsome, rugged, often emotional young man? Somedays I just don't know how we got here or at least not this quickly. There are days that I myself still feel like a child so I don't know how on earth it is that I have a teenage "man" calling me mom in a very deep voice. I still look for the stranger wandering around our house when I hear "that man" talking. It seems like it crept up on me out of nowhere. Yesterday, he was playing with cars and legos and loved to watch cartoons. Today he totes around a BB gun, wears army fatigues, shaves and talks about learning to drive. For those that fear I am failing at this whole letting go thing don't worry I don't bemoan these things outloud to him. Well, except for the times I force him to cuddle up on the couch next to me and I hug him like a wild woman and call him my baby until he can't take it anymore and flees the scene.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-52780414573644027862012-02-13T13:51:00.001-05:002012-02-13T13:52:26.125-05:00Happy Valentines DayMay you find the moments with your loved ones sweet, long, comforting and often.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-14094776997599629732011-12-30T21:33:00.000-05:002011-12-30T21:33:58.296-05:00New YearsThis year I seem to be approaching New Year's with a lot more reflection on the past and forethought for the year ahead. Maybe it's because I am getting older, maybe because I need to make some changes, or maybe because life has just been a little slower this year and I've had time to think. It seems I was drawn to ask myself some questions concerning my spiritual, physical and mental health. And then the list came together.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XrDgoScOJdI/Tv50ajBUVAI/AAAAAAAABiM/MUJB2DdqBow/s1600/heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" rea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XrDgoScOJdI/Tv50ajBUVAI/AAAAAAAABiM/MUJB2DdqBow/s200/heart.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
Here are a few things my heart tells me I need to make happen in the coming year:<br />
<ol><li>Consistent, longer daily times with the Lord.</li>
<li>Experiment with more healthy cooking.</li>
<li>Get regular physical exercise.</li>
<li>Read more. Especially about things important to me.</li>
<li>Make time and opportunity for important conversations with my boys.</li>
<li>Learn some new skills like bread baking, crocheting.</li>
<li>Do more scripture memorization.</li>
<li>Continue "dating" my husband each month.</li>
</ol>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-10033824992434743392011-12-30T20:13:00.000-05:002011-12-30T20:13:15.699-05:00ChristmasWe had a wonderful Christmas this year although it did seem to go by way too fast.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oNLVF_mchxw/Tv5hkEP8-_I/AAAAAAAABhw/8cvz-7H8v60/s1600/family+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rea="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oNLVF_mchxw/Tv5hkEP8-_I/AAAAAAAABhw/8cvz-7H8v60/s320/family+photo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AZ3o3WaDIik/Tv5hl5LfUxI/AAAAAAAABh4/-vTnFCs2A8w/s1600/tree+with+dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AZ3o3WaDIik/Tv5hl5LfUxI/AAAAAAAABh4/-vTnFCs2A8w/s320/tree+with+dog.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z2z7_h-C0O0/Tv5hmxLjHPI/AAAAAAAABiA/wygq_VlDTeI/s1600/boys+and+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z2z7_h-C0O0/Tv5hmxLjHPI/AAAAAAAABiA/wygq_VlDTeI/s320/boys+and+tree.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-58414517503535318292011-12-03T15:32:00.000-05:002011-12-03T15:32:40.784-05:00Reading...<div style="text-align: left;">Winter, or at least colder weather always seems to lend me time to do more reading than usual. I am one of those people that is in the middle of a couple of books at any one time. Usually one on the coffee table in the living room and one on my night stand. It all depends on my mood and interests for that day or week. It's very strange for me since I am quite organized in the other areas of my life but maybe that is why I find great joy in it. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Currently on my "In the middle of it list" is:</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">One Thousand Gifts </div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Monique and the Mango Rains</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Once I am finished with these two...</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Kisses from Katie</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I am so thankful that I can read. So many in this world do not have the honor of learning to read and I am grateful.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-63003806668847971112011-12-03T15:20:00.000-05:002011-12-03T15:20:45.692-05:00Beginning to Look Like Christmas Around Here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--S6qE5JBUhA/TtqDon_0s6I/AAAAAAAABg0/HDxmyFHfLkM/s1600/IMG_2559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--S6qE5JBUhA/TtqDon_0s6I/AAAAAAAABg0/HDxmyFHfLkM/s320/IMG_2559.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The stockings are hung...</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NN-SklDbvKM/TtqDr-8F7WI/AAAAAAAABg8/WXtIBVxI6YQ/s1600/IMG_2483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NN-SklDbvKM/TtqDr-8F7WI/AAAAAAAABg8/WXtIBVxI6YQ/s320/IMG_2483.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The Christmas parade has happened...</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FUlFJwLv1T0/TtqDwdm-RhI/AAAAAAAABhE/R4yJl0DIDik/s1600/IMG_2544.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FUlFJwLv1T0/TtqDwdm-RhI/AAAAAAAABhE/R4yJl0DIDik/s320/IMG_2544.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The tree is decorated...</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QWmcA2WU-iI/TtqDxodDrOI/AAAAAAAABhM/PUYRPPPhP8w/s1600/IMG_2562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QWmcA2WU-iI/TtqDxodDrOI/AAAAAAAABhM/PUYRPPPhP8w/s320/IMG_2562.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The Advent candles have been lit...</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ECpXR5BQb7Q/TtqD0EbHhBI/AAAAAAAABhU/39SUWt3q5u8/s1600/IMG_2555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ECpXR5BQb7Q/TtqD0EbHhBI/AAAAAAAABhU/39SUWt3q5u8/s320/IMG_2555.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The homemade garland has been strung...</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p4T4UeKPD-U/TtqD2ehXUAI/AAAAAAAABhc/hN28QcF7BRw/s1600/IMG_2572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p4T4UeKPD-U/TtqD2ehXUAI/AAAAAAAABhc/hN28QcF7BRw/s320/IMG_2572.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The snowman family is on display...</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pOqvc_BgV_M/TtqD5sCUkhI/AAAAAAAABhk/ZG3oaM07xg8/s1600/IMG_2565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pOqvc_BgV_M/TtqD5sCUkhI/AAAAAAAABhk/ZG3oaM07xg8/s320/IMG_2565.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The African nativity is in it's place...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">NOW ALL WE NEED IS SNOW!!</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-13255612263007070762011-11-23T11:20:00.000-05:002011-11-23T11:20:37.422-05:00Thankful<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0VRdx5TJ_E8/Ts0dOIlnkDI/AAAAAAAABgk/vSKlCZYE6gk/s1600/IMG_5516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0VRdx5TJ_E8/Ts0dOIlnkDI/AAAAAAAABgk/vSKlCZYE6gk/s320/IMG_5516.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SC_OfjTb6Ys/Ts0dRIi-mJI/AAAAAAAABgs/xf-kV0Kj15s/s1600/IMG_5570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SC_OfjTb6Ys/Ts0dRIi-mJI/AAAAAAAABgs/xf-kV0Kj15s/s320/IMG_5570.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Tomorrow is American Thanksgiving. As I write the pumpkin pies are cooking in the oven. The house is filled with sweet smelling spices. The kids are bored. The Christmas music is playing in the background. Outside there is snow on the branches from a light, overnight sprinkling. It's the "perfect" holiday mood, right?<br />
<br />
My heart is full because I have so much to be thankful for like always. We all do-ALWAYS! Just some years our perspective becomes more clouded than others and we focus on our heartbreaks, our dissapointments, our loneliness, our brokenness.We turn our eyes inward instead of upward. <br />
<br />
I am remembering Thanksgiving 2009. It will always be so special to me. It was nothing fancy that is for sure. There was no holiday music, no cold weather ( if fact we were sweating like crazy), no fat, juicy turkey (only a skinny imported one from Brazil that cost a pretty penny), and no abundance of fancy decorations or elaborate spread of food. But there was thanks giving. We had driven out to our friends farm in the bush in Mozambique. They were still in the process of building there house built out of mud, straw and cow dung-yes, literally. There in the scorching heat with our Thanksgiving spread on a wobbly table under the canopy of a landrover we celebrated being together and being thankful that in the midst of a not so comfortable life we could celebrate the ONE that makes life worth living and life worth giving. Amazing!<br />
<br />
So today I am thankful to know what true Thanks-giving feels like. Today I am thankful for all those friends I have that continue to lay down their lives daily for the ONE that makes giving thanks possible.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-46233641410047977092011-10-15T20:53:00.000-04:002011-10-15T20:53:46.636-04:00Grandma SueEach time I bend low to scoop up those silver pans that sit beneath my oven I remember her. Although they are worn, scratched and old they are seasoned with love. The tape there on the sides, nearly worn off now, marks her having been here on this earth. I don't want it to go away just like I didn't want her to leave. The pots sit across the kitchen stacked in a cupboard. Each time I feel the weight of them I remember her. How she was strong in her faith and sure of heaven to come.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZESlS_Y4vrY/Tpoq5GHSrtI/AAAAAAAABbM/SICxmi47FRo/s1600/grandma+sue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZESlS_Y4vrY/Tpoq5GHSrtI/AAAAAAAABbM/SICxmi47FRo/s320/grandma+sue.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>For years now, I've held them dear. They've traveled the globe with me helping to make new places home. They've reminded when at times I had forgotten that I too will leave this earth and for now my faith is all that truly counts.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-65204667341895501562011-10-13T14:46:00.000-04:002011-10-13T14:46:21.621-04:00Being Emptied<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z0aMD_D_4ro/TpcwqO8dKwI/AAAAAAAABZc/_3pl5ZytX_4/s1600/298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z0aMD_D_4ro/TpcwqO8dKwI/AAAAAAAABZc/_3pl5ZytX_4/s320/298.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It comes whether we find ourselves ready for it or not.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yNaZfpg9dBs/TpcwuI0PipI/AAAAAAAABZs/a_xV7ARtkpA/s1600/294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yNaZfpg9dBs/TpcwuI0PipI/AAAAAAAABZs/a_xV7ARtkpA/s320/294.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> It happens slowly but it's as though we don't notice. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O988p2KeCTg/Tpcwr3vVgzI/AAAAAAAABZk/-KDVGlvQ9So/s1600/290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O988p2KeCTg/Tpcwr3vVgzI/AAAAAAAABZk/-KDVGlvQ9So/s320/290.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Until suddenly, something in us awakens and we see it bursting forth and we find things all different. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ponxb1rHJUs/TpcwwnEq2VI/AAAAAAAABZ0/ayQzcVb1DiU/s1600/302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ponxb1rHJUs/TpcwwnEq2VI/AAAAAAAABZ0/ayQzcVb1DiU/s320/302.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Life sprinkles steadily to the ground to be absorbed, all rotten. </div><div style="text-align: center;">There is beauty in even this-the shedding of the old to make way for the new.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> It's shedding means life is full of promise. </div><div style="text-align: center;">It requires a stillness and a time of emptiness but life will come again. </div><div style="text-align: center;">We are only emptied so new life can come forth in it's due season.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-49632879711855739202011-10-02T20:06:00.000-04:002011-10-02T20:06:04.134-04:00October....Really?I am finding it hard to believe that it is already October. Although the weather is cooling down and the leaves are changing into beautiful colors and even beginning to fall. Time passes so quickly. In a month my first born baby boy will be turning 14. AHHHHH.....not so fast.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-36793739926293539202011-09-19T21:26:00.000-04:002011-09-19T21:26:58.113-04:00What My Boys are Made of...Grass stained jeans.<br />
Dirty fingernails.<br />
Constant hunger.<br />
Cardboard guns.<br />
Saturday morning cartoons.<br />
Bruises and scrapes.<br />
<br />
Tossing footballs. <br />
Dirty, bare feet.<br />
Lego creations.<br />
Peanut butter and jelly.<br />
Nerf gun wars.<br />
Wrestling.<br />
Bicycles and skateboards.<br />
Newfound acne.<br />
Tree climbing.<br />
Stinky socks.<br />
Adventure books.<br />
And GREAT BIG BEAUTIFUL HEARTS!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-10649954867667103892011-09-08T17:39:00.001-04:002011-09-08T17:41:15.997-04:00Spilling Sin<div style="text-align: center;">Again. Really, AGAIN? </div><div style="text-align: center;">The ugliness of my own sin makes me cringe to admit that it happens <strike>not so often</strike> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><strong>FAR. TOO. OFTEN.</strong> </div><div style="text-align: center;">I watched them, those words of sin,<br />
spilling from my wretched mouth. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Nearly as soon as they came tumbling out<br />
I longed to shove them back in. </div><div style="text-align: center;">To swallow them hard and to choke on them <br />
if that's what it takes.<br />
Lord, help me be a women of few words. <br />
Help me season them with mercy and grace.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PzF3P0fljDk/Tmk091J9eZI/AAAAAAAABW4/BhrCX01t0bU/s1600/hand+over+mouth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PzF3P0fljDk/Tmk091J9eZI/AAAAAAAABW4/BhrCX01t0bU/s1600/hand+over+mouth.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong><sup>"</sup></strong></span><strong>Words from the mouth of a wise man are gracious, </strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>while the lips of a <sup class="xref" value="(<a href="#cen-NASB-17506B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup>fool consume him." </strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Ecclesiastes 10:12</strong></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-72525543619858433532011-09-08T11:59:00.000-04:002011-09-08T11:59:24.463-04:00Romans...The Depth of His Great Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SAOWDgYoq1I/TmjmVWFgbvI/AAAAAAAABW0/0WCxpATI0BU/s1600/romans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SAOWDgYoq1I/TmjmVWFgbvI/AAAAAAAABW0/0WCxpATI0BU/s1600/romans.jpg" /></a></div>If you had asked me a couple of weeks ago what my favorite book of the Bible was I would have said James. I don't know why...I am weird I guess. Not that James is so uplifting, really it is disturbingly challenging. BUT lately I have been dwelling and soaking in the book of Romans and I am falling in LOVE. I've read it many times before but isn't it like GOD to put you right where you need to be for a moment or a season. <br />
<br />
I need Romans and I find it filling the depths of my heart with HIS great love. We, so undeserving, so sinful, so full of our own selfish, prideful flesh. Yet, He, so full of GRACE and immense love that He purposefully lavishes upon us. I know nothing sweeter and I am in awe of such a wonderful savior.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-18744345650934947402011-09-08T11:48:00.000-04:002011-09-08T11:48:20.682-04:00Getting OlderToday is my 38th birthday. Weird. When you are a kid you think 38 is SO old. Although I am "feeling" 38 more than previous birthdays (it seems so close to 40) many days I still feel like a kid myself. Honestly, there are those days that I look at my husband and boys and wonder how did I get here? How is it possible that I have been married to this man of mine for nearly 15 years? How is it possible that I have two sons in Junior High this year? Funny how life just sneaks by and you find yourself looking back wondering where have so many hours, days, months, years gone.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-40716094083792755572011-09-08T03:34:00.000-04:002011-09-08T03:34:45.273-04:00After AfricaYou may have noticed that I changed the name of my blog from After Africa to Grace"FULL" Moments. I felt it was time. After Africa hung almost like a question in the air. Me wondering Lord now what? What is after Africa? I am not sure what the answer is honestly other then living in the moment which I am finding FULL of HIS GRACE which helps me be present with Him here, now.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-66200739488483825502011-08-24T14:53:00.002-04:002011-08-24T16:46:08.965-04:00One Simple Lesson this Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wGnwzzM1vxs/TlVHTOjODYI/AAAAAAAABWY/QH26BLJcNnI/s1600/Manuel+and+Matteus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wGnwzzM1vxs/TlVHTOjODYI/AAAAAAAABWY/QH26BLJcNnI/s320/Manuel+and+Matteus.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Today marks one year since we left our life in Mozambique to return to the States. I can't believe it has been that long already. It has been a year of me trying to learn one simple lesson. I am a very slow learner. God knows my struggle. Being content right where He has called me to. I trust, because I know He knows. If I am confident He has called us to stay in the States for now (which I believe) then to be constantly thinking, dreaming of and hoping to return is not being content in the place I am now. It is a delicate balance to be sure. I do not want to forget Mozambique or those there or the things God taught me while there. I have fears of becoming the typical "American." I teeter on the edge of becoming consumed with things I do not feel are close to the heart of God. There is only so much Walmart, malls, restaurants can fill. There is always that longing deep within meant to filled by only Him. Maybe there lies the real challenge for me. Perhaps that is the real growing I need to do. Here, in this land of good and plenty, where I find it difficult to put off the things of the world, to not become distracted but instead remain focused on HIM alone. Resting in His leading for the moment. Not trying to be somewhere else. Not looking to a place or a person or even a calling to find contentment. But deciding in HIM alone, He is enough. Truly more than enough.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-79626392198204771992011-08-03T18:44:00.000-04:002011-08-03T18:44:01.255-04:00Stone of Remembrance...<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: red; font-size: x-large;">JULY 22nd</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EJKdqj1nd2o/TjnLYKCqXbI/AAAAAAAABWU/IzmcvReV1zs/s1600/memorial+stone.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EJKdqj1nd2o/TjnLYKCqXbI/AAAAAAAABWU/IzmcvReV1zs/s1600/memorial+stone.bmp" t$="true" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;">The date came and went like it did every year. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;">Just another day to most but not in our family. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;">July 22nd marks the day that our youngest son, Nate, fell in a well in Africa and SURVIVED. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;">Not only did he survive, God rescued Him and then went on to heal him.</span><br />
Like God commanded the Israelites in Joshua 4<br />
His faithfulness and deliverance is always something worth remembering.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-78739963031494801592011-07-26T22:17:00.001-04:002011-07-26T22:22:35.806-04:00Who Would've Known...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KqTxadGwHBc/Ti92Zn3sy_I/AAAAAAAABWQ/TD4JbSOUW4g/s1600/Debby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KqTxadGwHBc/Ti92Zn3sy_I/AAAAAAAABWQ/TD4JbSOUW4g/s1600/Debby.jpg" /></a></div>Who would've known that all these years later, 19 to be exact, that I would still have her as my best friend. That I would still love her. That I would still cherish our chats. That I would still learn so much from her. That she would continuously point me to the cross and help me walk deeper in grace. That we would share our children with one another. That she would be the only one I completely share it all with, openly, honestly. That she would still inspire me to think outside the box and ask myself the hard questions. <br />
<br />
Tonight, as I put her son to bed with ours I wonder at the hand of GOD in our lives. To bless us with children that can share memories and moments together, always to be remembered, much like when we met just as girls really. How did God know I needed her in my life? Of course, He knew because she is a gift straight from Him. I am so thankful.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-923057335151760584.post-53154861271844560492011-07-20T20:10:00.001-04:002011-07-20T20:12:41.664-04:00Basking in BooksOne thing I missed in Africa was books. I am not a huge reader but definitely like to from time to time. I also like my boys to read. Generally they read for half an hour every night before bed just to form that habit of loving to read. In our home schooling I am ALL about the books. Of course we follow a curriculum but it is full of literature because by experiencing great books we learn life. <br />
Today we visited the library. Now we have done that already since returning from Africa but this library was different. We live in a small village, called Penacook which is truly part of the capital city of New Hampshire, Concord. We have visited the Penacook library, all two rooms of it. Seriously. So today we decided to take advantage of our status as living in "part" of Concord and went to the larger library there. It was wonderful. I love letting my boys <strike>loose</strike> free to roam in a library. I find it pretty exciting. The children's section that is. I love watching my guys explore and find books about helicopters, knights, medeival weapons, etc. It screams for me to plant us there for many school days to come in the Fall.<br />
<br />
Thankful for the library today.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0