tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54549032496720487722024-03-12T20:12:15.043-05:00The Musings of MariannaMariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-467661718917204412015-04-30T18:24:00.001-05:002015-04-30T18:24:16.823-05:00I sit interning in court. Criminal court. I sit in my corner, shadow to the official court reporter. My interning stretches over the course of many days. I watch. I observe. I study faces, voices, and mannerisms. And I write along with the official reporter and keep up as best I can. <br />
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I sit in a murder trial. A man on drugs shoots his wife -- his highschool sweetheart -- seven times in close proximity with a shotgun. The medical examiner says that in his 17 years, he's not seen a body shot up so badly. I see gory pictures and handle evidence. I tote the murder weapon around from office to courtroom often through the day (one of the duties of court reporter is to be responsible for the evidence). I hear the tearful testimony of both defendant and family.<br />
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I watch the faces of the jurors during the testimony. This, here, is serious business. Not a smirk or smile out of the 12; there is a time for mirth, but this is not it. The severity of where life can lead chases any levity from the room. This, this is serious business. Life. Death. Justice. It's all at stake here. <br />
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For several days the jurors set aside everything else. Time is stopped and these men and women stop their lives and are reminded of the things that go on in this old world while the rest of of live, laugh, enjoy our families, and drive around town to drink coffee, go to work, and stop at the grocery store. There is none of that here. Someone's liberty is a stake. Great harm was done to a victim and their family, and justice must be had. These men and women must decide what justice is for this case; every jury for every case; every judge in every courtroom. <br />
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I watch young men who start by keeping wrong company -- Dad's out the picture, Mom is working to support the family -- and end up getting in serious trouble. Young men in orange and handcuffs, trembling before a righteous judge's stern brow. I hear stories of abuse; abusers who grow up to abuse and get 45 years in prison. I watch a young man who under the unfluence stole a car; and in doing so, kidnapped five children .<br />
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I hear the10-year-old kidnapped child's testimony. I hear his mother's tearful testimony and about the nightmares the son still has nightly. I hear the testimony from the kidnapper and the kidnapper's mother. He doesn't remember any of it; he'd drained his girlfriend's stash of liquor and didn't remember any of the hijack. He's been struggling through a deep, dark abyss of depression, suicide, and behavioral issues since an abusive father was removed from his life. In and out of metal health hospitals for a few days here and a few days there, not enough money for the medication he needs. I hear his mother's testimony and her hurt for the victims of her son's crime, and I hear a world of hurt in her own situation. Heartbreaking, all of it. The judge does not know the right thing to do in this situation and determines to put off his ruling in order to have time to think. <br />
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The testimony of the father whose son got in wrong company and ran over and injured a man while robbing a beer truck, pleading for probation rather than prison for his otherwise well-behaved son who volunteers for Habitat for Humanity, whose mother is a kindergarten teacher. I see this handsome clean-cut young man sob and wipe his nose with his tie. He was different than the run-of-the-mill probation seekers I've seen in that courtroom. I watch him breathe a sigh of relief when the judge gives him eight years of probation. <br />
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I hear the tearful testimony of the sister of another defendant, both she and her brother sexually abused as children... the brother growing up to horrifically abuse another. I hear her tearful testimony and in the midst of her tears and testimony about old, dark secrets finally coming to light, I hear her share about the Light of the world. The abuse she suffered had turned her promiscuous, into a deep dark spiral of substance abuse. Until she found the Light of the world, that is. God saved her, rescued her; some of her family in close step behind. All this Light from from the witness stand from this tearful, beautiful young woman who's been drug to the very gates of hell by Satan's chains; and who found the key of Jesus who unlocked the chains. Her brother got 45 years of prison. Perhaps there -- the best place for him for many years, I believe -- he will find the God of his Light-bearing sister, and the God of mine.<br />
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I get into my car, and do what I've wanted to do so many times throughout the day: I put my head on my steering wheel, and I want to weep. There can be nothing other than a straight face during such proceedings by a court reporter, certainly there must be no weeping intern. I have to wait until I'm alone to process. <br />
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In the midst of all our comings and goings, in every criminal courtroom in our cities there lies, in living color, the great sea of the utter helplessness and need of humanity. The need for Christ and His power, His love, His light, and the Fatherhood of Almighty God. This great need emerges in all sorts of horrific and heartbreaking forms. The pain of its vastness and deep sadness weighs so heavy on my heart that all I can do is choke out, "Come quickly Lord Jesus." <br />
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How did I get to be so blessed? Why is it that I am so blessed to have a dad who is involved in my life, a mom who is always there, and sisters whom I love dearly? Truly, I have no problems in comparison to this vast sea of hurt. <br />
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The needs are so great that I buckle under the heaviness. In few other places is the reality of choices so apparent; the reality of life, death, liberty, justice, mercy, and second chances that sometimes really do turn a life around. Criminal court is one of the many places to feel utterly helpless to meet needs. It's one of the best places to sit and pray. To sit and to be reminded of the deep depths of living hell and darkness that a life without Christ will plunge one. Any last one of us. <br />
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This, is real life; this is where it's found. From this pain and this reality we can learn how to live our own lives; and, perhaps, understand and feel the Father's heart just a little more keenly. <br />
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"<sup class="versenum"> </sup>He which testifieth these things saith, Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus." <br />
-Rev. 22:20<br />
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The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count
slackness; but is long-suffering to us-ward, not willing that any should
perish, but that all should come to repentance." <br />
-II Peter 3:9<span class="p"><br /></span>Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-14953521856659636682013-03-10T21:37:00.003-05:002013-03-10T21:37:37.595-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was around 20 when I first sat inside a school bus, and I am advanced in my 27th year as I first experience the reality of the thing they call, Spring Break. To state the obvious, I'm a homeschooler. A homeschooler at heart who is taking full time classes at a local school... so for the first time I'm experiencing "official" Spring Break. It's pretty great. And boy am I glad... my taxes need filing, I need to do some organizing and spring cleaning, time for extra practicing, and the best of all, I don't have to say goodnight at 9pm for a whole week. <br />
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You cannot imagine the self discipline it takes to make myself go to bed so ridiculously early. But then, you cannot imagine the ghastly feeling of trying to choke back tears in class because you're not "getting" the new concept that is being taught, all because your brain is exhausted, which makes you even more tear-prone. No, I'll take the granny-time discipline any day. <br />
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Actually, if I can get out of school without having an all out melt-down at school, I'll be happy. Becoming a court reporter is difficult, so it's not at all uncommon to see ladies crying in the hallway while talking to a sympathetic teacher (it's disconcerting, I tell you). Thus the high drop-out rate in court reporting school, and thus one of the reasons court reporters are paid well. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>10 FINGERS<br />23 KEYS<br />800,000 WORDS</b></span></span></td></tr>
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That really is how your brain feels. And you never escape it, once you start. It'll pounce on you at inopportune moments... while trying to sleep, while listening to someone speak, in an instant you'll imagine how it would be in steno. My teacher says this will only get worse, and I do believe her. It also confuses your typing and spelling on a regular basis. </div>
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Practicing hours and hours is worth it for a job that is both profitable and flexible though... flexibility in a job is so important to me... that way, I can participate in the volunteer things I love, too. Reaching the 225 words per minute goal line can't come fast enough. Thus, my obsession with plunking away at my little steno machine these days... they say, the more you can practice these first two semesters, the faster you'll move through the other speeds. I sure hope they're right...<br />
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'Cause otherwise.... this will be ME:<br />
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<a data-ved="0CAgQjRwwAA" href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&docid=JU9HqcJBxA9lqM&tbnid=M5MgPl_ihWrIJM:&ved=0CAgQjRwwAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Ftwitter.com%2FStenoProblem&ei=NtQ8UZygD6KGyAG8o4CQDw&psig=AFQjCNHszLNf4VUnKGBiLV3a1pqmHqkK3w&ust=1363027382290559" id="irc_mil" style="border: 0px none;"><br /></a>In other news, today I've worked through a lot of <u>The Great Divorce</u> by the brilliant C.S. Lewis (hooray for Sunday reading!!). What a fascinating book! Have any of you read it? I hope to finish it tomorrow... as a matter of fact, I'm determined to finish it. I've noticed a bad habit I have that I'm going to break... if I have a book I am really enjoying, I crawl through it. I crawl through it because I like it so much, I don't want it to end, and I don't want to rush through it, I want to savor it. So then, I end up with a ton of half-finished books laying around. This must stop. I need to just plow through, and remind myself that there are lots of other good books to enjoy next. Oh brother... I come up with some goofy habits sometimes </div>
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Okay, I should stop typing now and wait for another day when I actually have something interesting to write. So far, this has just been a ramble rant... which is just about all I seem to be able to write these days. </div>
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Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-56132565440972650492013-02-03T21:51:00.003-06:002013-02-03T21:51:55.190-06:00Ladies Day Book entry... 2/3/2013<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Outside my window... </span>It's bright, sunny, crisp cool air. Perfectly typical Texas February weather. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">I am thinking... </span> That sin is so hurtful and destructive.. that I hate it, and I hate how it hurts people and relationships. That school starts again in the morning and I need to set out clothes, prepare lunches, round up all my school books, and get my steno machine packed up. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">I am thankful for...</span> Family... family laughter, family chatter, family love and friendship. Friends who call or write to check on you. For the book, <u>Lena</u> by Margaret Jensen... Mom gave us sisters a copy to share, and it's just really "hitting the spot" for me today. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">I am wearing... </span>"Comfy clothes"... the sort you wear on Sunday afternoons after you slip out of your church clothes... like a favorite soft pink jacket, house slippers, and a worn in polo shirt and shorts. </div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20.796875px;">In the learning room... </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20.796875px;">It's Sunday... all is quiet. I force myself to do no studying on Sundays. It's my way of setting aside the day to honor the Lord and rest. <br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20.796875px;">I am remembering... </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20.796875px;">with the sound of the Super Bowl playing in the background, how the "football game sounds" bring back happy childhood memories of going to my Italian Great-Grandma's house for lunch on Sunday afternoons as a child. When we walked into her house, the aroma of spaghetti gravy and the sound of the football game playing on tv greeted us, all warm and welcoming. <br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">I am going... </span> No place tonight... To school in the morning... down the long country road, lined with ranches, cows, horses, and fields... it's a happy drive.<br /><b><br /></b></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20.796875px;">I am currently reading... </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20.796875px;">A biography about Hudson Taylor, </span></span><u style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.796875px;">Lena </u><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20.796875px;">by Margaret Jensen, and </span></span><u style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.796875px;">The Money Makeover</u><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20.796875px;"> by Dave Ramsey. And some school books. But they are of no interest to anyone but me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">I am hoping... </span> in the Lord. And that some of those dear to my heart will receive the Lord's healing, hope, and grace as they walk through hard things. </div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20.796875px;"> </span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20.796875px;">On my mind... </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20.796875px;">so many things... (like, isn't this almost the same exact question as, "I am thinking..."??) that I need to take some time before the Lord and do a routine "motive check" on everything I'm doing... that I need to get our car listed on Craig's List (and what will I drive after that??)... that I need to keep fighting to be faithful in the small things... that I hate diagramming sentences... that I need to write a sticky email... and that I want to be like this dear Lena lady when I grow up. </span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Noticing that.. </span>I forgot to drink the coffee we made... horror! </div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20.796875px;">Pondering these words... </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.796875px;">from the book <u>Lena:</u></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 20.796875px;"> <i>"What if that tree could talk, Lena? Think o f all the secrets that majestic oak could tell." Laughingly Lena answered, "Oh, but that tree do talk. It say, 'Lena, just stand where God put you, like I do. I don't fret and carry on to be a tall pine. I just be standing here, unshakable, unmovable, a shelter in the storm, and a shade in the heat.' Then I tell myself, 'Lena just be-- just be abounding in the work of the Lord. Do your work as unto the Lord, for God sees the heart and is a rewarder of them who diligently seek Him.' That tree be talking, Nurse Jensen, and I talk back. I say, 'God planted you outside my kitchen, and He planted me inside this kitchen.' We just stand praising the Lord together."<br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">From the kitchen.. </span> Andrea Bocelli is singing from the cd player... but we're getting ready to get in gear to prepare dinner. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Around the house... </span>It's Sunday afternoon, so the family is meandering around... waking up from naps, reading books, checking emails, chatting, etc. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">One of my favorite things... </span> Eating a meal outside on a beautiful day.<br /></div>
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<b>Here's a few pics I would like to share today:</b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r_HivRqaqoA/UQ8qEZjkFKI/AAAAAAAACMM/aDv8f_6D0Cc/s1600/IMG_2819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r_HivRqaqoA/UQ8qEZjkFKI/AAAAAAAACMM/aDv8f_6D0Cc/s400/IMG_2819.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sisters and long time friends... I love these girls!<br />Lea, Rebecca, me, Sarah, Hannah, Michelle</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting to see Elisabeth Elliot Gren and Lars Gren at a recent wedding was the highlight of the year so far. (Rebecca, Lea, me, Mr. Gren, and seated, is Mrs. Gren) <br />I owe a great debt of gratitude to Elisabeth Elliot, for her books and writing, which have shaped me in so many ways. Mom used to make us girls listen to her radio program as part of school, and I am so glad she did. (My mom has always had a really good grasp on the most important sort of learning.)</td></tr>
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Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-36339281472272798432012-12-24T10:40:00.002-06:002012-12-24T21:17:47.140-06:00open-ended waiting<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Every Advent season, I ask for a new glimpse into The Story. A new dynamic or aspect I've glossed over in years before. For the years I've asked, He always has.<br /><br />This year, it was about hoping and waiting open-endedly. I read from my Advent Devotional how Mary, hoped rather than wished. And how different a story God wrote in she, and other characters of The Story, lives because they did not cling to what they expected and wished, but rather hoped in the Lord. <br /><br />I've thought about my own heart and life. Particularly in the area of singleness To be honest, it's something I feel a little uncomfortable writing about. I usually don't write about singleness, for fear of appearing desperate and/or frustrated. And, in my humble opinion, there are few things as odious as being a frustrated and/or desperate old maid. (If you must be an old maid, than be a chipper one, by golly.) But this has to do with my "Christmas lesson", so I think it's okay to share this time. <br /><br />I have been through many seasons of life where I have thoroughly enjoyed being single. And then, there have been some seasons where I have thoroughly not enjoyed being single. <br /><br />I think back to a time over the summer when my older sister, 30 now, and I, 27, had been to a wedding of a couple who were both a lot younger than us. We sat at a booth in Chick-fil-A, grabbing a quick bite before dashing off to another event to meet a married friend who was also younger than us. To be perfectly honest, we were what King David might have called, "cast down" and "disquieted" in our souls. We comforted our hearts with a morsel of Chick-Fil-A.. or at least we tried to. <br /><br />I sat across the booth from my sister and told her with tongue in cheek gloom, "I don't like you that much.. not enough to spend the rest of my life with you,"as I shook pepper over my waffle fries, a little too furiously. "I know... I don't like you that much either," she replied. I nodded in agreement We continued to discuss all the ways that it was difficult being single and the fear of being two old spinster sisters who walked around mothering their cats in their old age. <br /><br />Most of our friends are married; many of them are having children now. We still feel frozen in time sometimes. We, the two girls who were always outspoken about the importance of being a wife and mother, who didn't plan for big long-term careers outside the home, who have always been frank about wanting to be a homemaker some day. We are a two of the few left, out of all our friends, who are still single. Life can be ironic. <br /><br />Then, some time before Thanksgiving, I decided it was again time to cultivate an attitude of gratitude about my "gift" of singleness. Not a "pollyannaish" sort of worked up happiness (although I think there's a place for that), but a genuine gratefulness. <br /><br /> So, I thought about how Paul said, in essence, that you're asking for trouble if you want to get married (and judging from the "in-law/out-law" stories of some of my friends, I'd hvae to say it's rather true). How singleness is a gift, and God doesn't give bad gifts.<br /><br />In my advent devotional, I read about how Mary hoped in the Lord, rather than "wished in the Lord." To wish is to set your sight on something specific... open-ended hoping is to wait with open hands for whatever the Father sends our way. (I copied experts from this devotional below, because he says it much better than I can)<br /><br />I thought about my wishes for a home and family of my own one day... I thought about how maybe the Lord might use my love for children and home in some other way. Some way different than I wished. Being single doesn't mean that children can never be cared for and loved. It doesn't mean that you can't have a family. It just might look different. <br /><br /> So it is that open ended hoping requires a certain amount of dying. Dying to wishes... plans and ideas that we had for ourselves. <br /><br />But when I decide to stop wishing and start hoping, then comes the joy and peace of a future unknown, but yet planned. Then, I can say "Thank You," honestly. God gives good gifts, although different, but better, than we would pick for ourselves. <br /><br />What if Mary had clung so tightly to her idea of how her life would go? Surely she never imagined that her wedding would be surrounded by the whispers of scandal. Surely she never imagined having her baby next to barn animals, or escaping to Egypt, or seeing her Son put to death on a cross. If her life attitude would have been one of a stiff neck and clinging hands, she wouldn't have been able to say, "behold, the handmaiden of the Lord, be it unto me according to Your word." That first "Yes." of Mary's, surely turned the tide of her life from something "nice and normal" to the wild and unexpected, but yet she was the one who received the Light of Christ first. <br /><br />If I cling tightly to my ideas of how my life should go, I won't be able to say, "be it unto me according to your word", and I will be clinging so tightly to my wishes that my hands will not be open to receive the gifts He wants to give. <br /><br />I don't know what my future will look like. But it matters less now than it did a few months ago... because with God's grace I am striving to stop the wishing, and live in open-handed, open-ended waiting on the Lord. God gives buckets of grace for that. <br /><br />So here's to a Christmas of receiving Christ in our innermost... here's to a new year full of open ended hoping and receiving the unexpected.<br /><br />And here's portions of the devotional that made me think... I really can't recommend <a href="http://www.christianbook.com/watch-light-readings-advent-and-christmas/9781570755415/pd/755418" target="_blank">this Advent devotional </a>enough; every year it quiets and prepares my heart to keep waiting and watching for His second arrival, and strikes wonder anew at the miracle of His first coming. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>From <u>Watch For The Light; Reading for the Advent and Christmas</u>, pages 32 - 34</b><br /> <br /><i>"A waiting person is a patient person. The word patience means the willingness to stay where we are and live the situation out to the full in the belief that something hidden there will manifest itself to us. Impatient people are always expecting the real thing to happen somewhere else and therefore want to go elsewhere. The moment is empty. But patient people dare to stay where they are. Patient living means to live actively in the present and wait there. Waiting then, is not passive. It involves nurturing the moment, as mother nurtures he child that is growing in her. Zechariah, Elizabeth, and Mary were very present to the moment. That is why they could hear the angel. They were alert, attentive to the voice that spoke to them and said, "Don't be afraid. Something is happening to you. Pay attention." </i></span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"But there is more. Waiting is open-ended. Open-ended waiting is hard for us because we tend to wait for something very concrete, for something that we wish to have. Much of our waiting is filled with wishes: I wish that I would have a job. I wish that the weather would be better. I wish that the pain would go." We are full of wishes, and our waiting easily gets entangled in those wishes. For this reason, a lot of our waiting is not open-ended. Instead, our waiting is a way of controlling the future. We want the future to go in a very specific direction, and if this does not happen we are disappointed and can even slip int despair. That is why we have such a hard time waiting: we want to do the things that will make the desires events take place. Here we can see how wishes tend to be connected with fears. </i></span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"But Zachariah, Elizabeth and Mary were not filled wishes. They were filled with hope. Hope is something very different Hope is trusting that something will be fulfilled, but fulfilled according to the promises and not just according to our wishes. Therefore, hope is always open-ended. </i></span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"I have found it very important in my own life to let go of my wishes and start hoping. It was only when I was willing to let go of wishes that something really new, something beyond my own expectations could happen to me. Just imagine what Mary was actually saying in the words, "I am the handmaid of the life... let what you have said be done to me" (Luke 1: 38). She was saying, "I don't know what this all means, but I trust that good things will happen." She trusted so deeply that her waiting was open to all possibilities. And she did not want to control them. She believed that when she listened carefully, she could trust what was going to happen. </i></span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"To wait open-endedly is an enormously radical attitude toward life... So, too, is giving up control over our future and letting God define our life, trusting that God molds us according to God's love and not according to our fear. The spiritual life is a life in which we wait, actively present to the moment, trusting that new things will happen to us, new things that are far beyond our own imagination fantasy, or prediction That, indeed, is a very radical stance toward life in a world preoccupied with control."</i></span></blockquote>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and "EDNA", wishing you a merry CHRISTMAS, <br />
and proving that despite what we say when we're gloomy, we really do enjoy being together quite a lot. ;) </td></tr>
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<br />Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-15808684908258129222012-12-03T12:13:00.000-06:002012-12-03T12:13:13.982-06:00"Lord, stamp eternity on my eyeballs." -Jonathan Edwards<br />
The trees know autumn is almost gone... in the wind I hear the crinkle of the trees shaking off their taffeta skirts of crimson and gold, laying aside all their finery for of the good sturdy long underwear of their gray and brown bark. So do the fields... the farmers have harvested the cotton, the corn. They have harvested and plowed, and then plowed again. And now the earth is resting under a comforter of beautiful rich dark soil, lined with perfect rows of lines. God's creation knows their times and are always obedient to them. Am I? Me, who stands among the fields and trees, the only one out of them all who sometimes turns my face heavenward and says, "no". I, so foolish... I, manager of my own time. <br />
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Time... I often tend to have two ways of dealing with it... either ignoring it's magnitude, while I manage it the best I can, or I am hounded by it, even though there never seems to be enough of it. But there is a third way... a grace, really, an answer to a prayer for eternity to be stamped on my eye. <br />
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That is to view my schedule through the lens of a sand-timer Every five minutes, even the time that it's taking me to write this now, is irretrievable from the set time God has for my life. Done. Gone. Over. I will not get it back. I might be laying on my deathbed one day wishing for more time to do more things and I may have wasted it on something silly... like complaining. Or being lazy. Or wasting time online. <br />
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If I can view it through this lens, that of a giant hourglass of sorts, I will not be caught later down the road wondering where it all went. I will use it wisely and efficiently and for the purposes and glory of God. I will not use it glibly, nor will I be hounded by it, because I will be purposeful with each moment, each grain of slipping sand. I have a ways to go to reach that point. But I am trying.<br />
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It's made me quite stingy, lately, with my time. The sand slipping away pricks me into action... or sometimes, inaction. Is stopping to watch kittens play, admiring God's handiwork worth it? I think so. Is sitting on the couch with my sister, or visiting with my mom worth the trickle of sand from the timer? Yes. Is bad planning, things taking longer than they should because I didn't plan or organize well worth the pouring sand that I can never grasp back? No... not those.<br />
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To mind my schedule in such a way that is busy with the best, and not with the worthless, is good I think... I am not always sure how... I need grace and wisdom and discernment to know the difference between best, good, and the worthless. <br />
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Is this school I am pursuing so hard, the job I am trying to obtain, the books I am trying to find time to read... are these worth the trickle of sand that escapes while I work, reach, and struggle? Maybe... maybe some of it, maybe not all of it.. I don't know. As I said, I am so <i>needy</i> for His thoughts.<br />
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One day, my time will be done. One day, I will stand before the Lord and be held accountable for the way I spent these hours... this very hour included. Will I have used it wisely? Will I have redeemed the time? Will I have brought many souls with me? <br />
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Like the trees, like the fields, I need my Creator. I need Him to order my steps.. order my thoughts... In short, I just need Him for everything. And I need to always remember and realize that and never to raise my head and say "no". <br />
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<i style="background-color: #f9fdff; color: #001320; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">"So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom." ~Psalm 90:12</i></div>
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This is on my mind and heart these late fall weeks... many things, are, really... but I think taking time to write them down just might be time well spent... Somehow, I believe He can be magnified, even through the fumbling bumbling thoughts and grasps for truth sprawled out on a blog page, by one of His most grace-needing daughters. </div>
Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-77919246211055554752012-11-03T18:43:00.000-05:002012-11-03T18:43:40.947-05:00Fabulous Fall Favorites<br />
These have and are contributing to a lovely autumn season...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="400" src="http://onethousandgifts.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/book.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="333" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ann Voskamp's, <a href="http://www.onethousandgifts.com/" target="_blank">One-Thousand Gifts <i> A Dare to LIVE FULLY Right Where You Are</i></a><br />This is a book to be savored... her poetic writing packs a punch that leaves you gazing starry eyed at the goodness and grace of the Lord. <br /><br />Perfect pre-Thanksgiving book... or pre-anything book. It's just good any time or any season.<br /><br />My own count to 1,000 has begun... talk about redeeming the time! Talk about savoring the moments! Giving thanks- <i>writing</i> <i>and listing them--</i> for the little things. It's good, friends. Very good. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Bengal Spice Herbal Tea" height="267" src="http://www.celestialseasonings.com/sites/default/files/styles/glamour/public/herb_v2_CS_3DBox_BengalSpice_0111.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bengal Spice Tea<br />We have been going through boxes and boxes over here. <br /><br />It's like autumn in a mug. <br /><br />And you really just want to sit with the box to your nose for a while... it smells that good. <br /><br />It's especially good with creamer; and it has a naturally sweet taste so that, to me, it tastes perfect without sweetener.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The magnificent Art Tatum- blind jazz pianist with amazing talent.<br /><br />His music sounds like a jazzy fall day... the leaves like to dance to it too, I think. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marty Goetz- Jew who found Jesus as his Messiah.<br /><br />His music is lovely and melodic... but the best part is most of the lyrics are psalms so you get fed with both beauty and scripture. I have his "I Call You Friend" album only so far... but plan to get more. He's very gracious and kind in person too!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Nat King Cole - nat-king-cole Photo" height="400" src="http://images.fanpop.com/images/image_uploads/Nat-King-Cole-nat-king-cole-301786_1009_1254.jpg?1348537313279" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="321" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nat. King. Cole. Need I say more? <br /><br />I never get tired of his music... it's perfect for every season. </td></tr>
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Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-10926864423276490122012-09-10T10:08:00.001-05:002012-09-10T13:24:19.740-05:00Sunday ThoughtsI sit in church, a holy sanctuary of mighty stained glass windows, rich oak, and worn velvet pews. From my balcony seat I watch... the sweet elderly couples, along with the may-be widows and widowers, and families. The middle aged bearded man in the gray suit sits at the organ, moments away from the magnificence of a grand pipe organ well played. A great robed choir sits, waiting, ready, on call. Bouquets of brilliant orange and yellow flowers decorate the altar, a cheery hat tip to all that is loved about autumn. A solid prayer by the old gentleman standing at the pulpit. <br />
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The choir and organ break out into a version of Kyrie and it sounds angelic. And my eyes wander from the stained glass to the flowers, to the Christ-like pastor and the gentle congregation, and my soul drinks in the music... immersed in the beauty of the Lord reflected. My soul and mind is washed... scoured... rinsed... the worries of the week that had been etched in my heart fade... Faded away in the presence and beauty of the Father of Lights. I walk outside to the car, in step with the sound of musical church bells.. I feel clean and renewed. </div>
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It's the cunning power of beauty combined with the love and word of God. A powerful and holy combination... it's what we need more of. It's what I want my life to be this week to those to whom I may be the only Church they will see any time soon... of choosing beauty over hastiness... good and quality over the cheap... the shining glory of Jesus over the dull trinkets of this world. </div>
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As the Psalmist prayed, <i>'May the beauty of the Lord be upon us.' </i>To that I give an earnest <i>amen</i>. </div>
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Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-54675759399815343132012-08-31T22:59:00.001-05:002012-09-02T17:09:35.707-05:00The Liebster Award ('thank you, thank you very much.' )<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My good friend, Ryan, over at<a href="http://themanwhowouldbeknight.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"> The Man Who Would Be Knight</a> blog has bequeathed me with an award. <i>The Liebster Award. </i> How very nice indeed. I am quite quite honored. No one seems to know exactly what the award means, or why it is awarded, but we are all deeply honored to receive it, nonetheless. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This is, however, an award with responsibilities, ones which I do not take lightly. They go something like this: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>-List 7 or 11 random things about yourself</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>-Answer the 7 or 11 random questions asked by the awarder (yes, I do like to make up words).</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>-Pass the award on to 7 or 11 people who have under 200 followers, and</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>- make up your own 7 or 11 random questions for them to answer. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So, are you ready? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Seven Random Facts about yours truly: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">1) I tend to notice hands. <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(could be because i grew up in an Italian family that can't talk without them)</span></i> They often tell things about the person attached to them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />2) I get a sort of high from being at the airport. The buzz of being in the bustle of movement and anticipation, combined with the constant flow of unique people to watch makes it a fun place, in my opinion. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />3) I have a fascination with courtrooms and law. The closest I can trace it to watching movies like Twelve Angry Men and To Kill a Mockingbird as a child. I am looking forward to the day when I will actually get picked to be on a jury. Every great once in a while I entertain thoughts of becoming a lawyer. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />4) Random pieces of conversation cause me to break out into randomly related songs or movie quotes, more often than the average person, according to my sisters. My sister, EDNA, thinks this is so strange. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />5) I am a political junkie. I look forward to election years like a football junkie looks forward to the Super Bowl. During election seasons, most days don't go by without my tuning in to talk radio, which is where I get the majority of my news from. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />6) While cleaning the kitchen, sometimes I throw my dignity and worries to the wind and embrace my inner Broadway Star, complete with all-out singing and dancing to fun music. It's ridiculous (so the "you're weird" looks all my sisters give me indicate). But it's always fun. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />7) I found out today that I am an<a href="http://typelogic.com/infj.html"> INFJ</a> brain type. What's yours? <a href="http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp" style="background-color: white; color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-<wbr></wbr>win/JTypes2.asp</a><br /><br /><span style="color: #222222;"><b>Now for the very intellectual questions posed by <a href="http://themanwhowouldbeknight.blogspot.com/2012/08/award.html" target="_blank">The Man Who Would Be Knight</a>:</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">1) Do we, in fact, need more cowbell? </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">Oh, YES, by all means. It's </span><span style="line-height: 19px;">exactly</span><span style="line-height: 19px;"> what the world needs. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br style="line-height: 19px;" /></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">2) To be or not to be?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">That would depend entirely on what you wanted to be or what you wanted not to be. I for one, want to be, and so I would say, by all means, be. Unless of course it is wrong. In that case, most definitely do not be. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">3) If you had the time, what would you learn?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Many many things... how to speak Italian is near the top. If you included both time <i>and money</i>, the list would be endless... and it would include learning how to fly an airplane (so that my next career could be a crop duster pilot, obviously).</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">4) What does your blog mean to you?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My blog is a haven of sorts where I can put my thoughts on virtual paper... a bit of a luxury that I afford myself when I carve out extra time. A blog evolves from time to time... but for now It's a place to sort or share my thoughts.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> <span style="background-color: white;"><br style="line-height: 19px;" /></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">5) What is the first thing you are going to do when you get to heaven?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Fall on my face, probably. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">6) If you had a super power, what would it be?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">To fly. Reading minds would be nice too... womens intuition is only so reliable. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">7) How many roads must a man walk down?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">That all depends on where and how far he wants to go.</span><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 19px;"><b>Now, my turn to ask YOU. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 19px;">1) What aspect of life do you view as hardest? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 19px;">2) What instrument would you like most to play?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 19px;">3) What retro sitcom character do you most identify with? (i.e. Lucy? Ethel? Laura Petry? Rob Petry? Mr. Muenster? etc.? :) </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 19px;">4) There was a dish in China called "The Most Delicious Dish", which turned the conversation to what each cook considered their "most delicious dish"... what dish are you famous for among your family and friends? </span><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 19px;">5) Do you like to solve problems at night or in the morning?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 19px;">6) What is your favorite way to start your mornings?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 19px;">7) If you could visit any country, which would it be? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><br /><b>I humbly pass this award on to: </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://myforestcathedral.blogspot.com/" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; color: #1155cc; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 2px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="post">My Forest Cathedral</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://asthydays.blogspot.com/" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; color: #1155cc; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 2px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="post">As Thy Days</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://namas-notes.blogspot.com/" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; color: #1155cc; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 2px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="post">The Chatterbox</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://www.heiressintraining.com/" target="_blank">Heiress In Training</a><br /><a href="http://belovedsbride.blogspot.com/" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; color: #1155cc; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 2px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="post">Beloved's Bride</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://learninglateinlife.blogspot.com/" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; color: #1155cc; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 2px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="post">Learning Late In Life</a> (has already been tagged, but here's a double tag)</span><br />
<a href="http://octaviasmith12.blogspot.com/" rel="contributor-to nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #1155cc; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.200000762939453px; text-decoration: none;">My Home On The Range...Texas</a> <span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /><a href="http://noplacelikehomekindledheart.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">No Place Like Home</a></span><br />
<br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Cambria;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">But I really would love to hear answers to this randomosity from any gentle reader or sweet friend who happens upon this post, tagged or not, blogger or not (blogging in a comment is acceptable in this case, most definitely). :)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Cambria;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Thanks again to Ryan for a good excuse for a lightheartedly fun post!</span></span></div>
Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-38384636445970668952012-08-22T10:18:00.000-05:002012-08-22T10:18:48.390-05:00chased by grace and other randomosity I'm sitting outside on the front porch, watching the dragonflies circle, admiring the morning sunshine, feeling the Texas balminess in the palms of my hands, drinking green tea, and generally gleefully procrastinating studying for my CLEP test tomorrow. It's College Composition, and will require two timed essays. Which means I have to write lots of practice essays about fairly pointless things. I don't want to write anymore until the test, and I am trying to tell myself that I probably don't need to. But, I probably do. I am of the writing tribe that likes to type quickly, but stop often. Just to think and ponder and look off into the distance for a bit. And then after I write, I prune and tweak to my hearts content. That is therapy, but it is not a remarkably quick process. It is certainly not the sort of process that will get you through a College Comp test with any sort of passing grade. And so, I have now written myself into thinking that I should at least write one more essay, at least before the day is over with. And study for the question portion of the test... there is that too...<br />
<br />
And in the midst of it all, I hope that I am doing the right thing in pursuing this degree anyway.. I hope that I did not misundertand the direction I was to take... I wonder this, and then I wonder that, and then I feel the icy fingers of fear grip my soul, and then I pry them off with trust, and then I wonder why so many emotions have to encircle the soul like the rings surround Saturn. Emotions are odd things. <br />
<br />
Yet, in the midst of everything, heavy on my mind is to be intentional to choose joy and thankfulness. I stumbled upon <a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/08/when-you-are-finding-it-hard-to-keep-up-chased-by-grace/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+HolyExperience+%28Holy+Experience%29&utm_content=Google+Reader" target="_blank">this blog post</a> last night... it hit the spot, so to speak. That part of the soul that gets weary sometimes... and needs to be reminded about the goodness and mercy of the Lord.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1525247813"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong>Your whole life can feel like you are running for your very life, like you are trying to out run a tsunami of stress.</strong></span></i></a><br />
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1525247813"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Trying to stay ahead of everything that’s nipping hard at your heels. Whole decades can be marked by exhaustion.</span></i></a><br />
<br />
</blockquote>
<blockquote>
<a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/08/when-you-are-finding-it-hard-to-keep-up-chased-by-grace/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+HolyExperience+%28Holy+Experience%29&utm_content=Google+Reader" target="_blank"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> .....you can think goodness and mercy just follow you, but the Hebrew word for ‘follow’ is </span></i></a><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5454903249672048772" target="_blank">‘<strong>radaph</strong>’ and it means to “to pursue, to run after, to chase</a>” or, quite literally, “to hunt you down”. </span></i></blockquote>
<br />
And I found myself this morning sitting and smiling hard and tickled pink over the simple joyful fact that I have arms and legs that work, when so many don't. Such a gift... so many gifts. They are all around us. I am chased by grace today... what a blessing. Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-26045182997080221492012-08-17T17:47:00.002-05:002012-08-17T17:47:30.598-05:00broken rythmn <br />
I am taking a break from studying, replying and sorting through emails, updating my computer, addressing envelopes, taking care of business emails, writing assignments, preparing for tonight's Bible study lesson, returning phone calls; all things I've been trying to cram into the past few hours that I have sat here at the office. I will have to leave from here in a few minutes to go to the post office, the store, and then the Chinese mission. But first, in a burst of rebellion from my to-do list, I am going to put up a quick blog. Not because it has a deadline attached to it, by golly, but because I am on a quest to live well and sometimes that means doing things that aren't completely necessary. But then, on the other hand, who is to say that taking time for <i>mental health moments</i> isn't neccesary? <br />
<br />
In the midst of the busyness that fill my days, I more and more realize that one thing that does not fill my weeks is <i>rhythm</i>. This is something I struggle with as a single adult... the proverbial green grass, where having a family and being a full time homemaker lies, beckons to me with a steady beat of <i>rhythm</i>. Being a single adult, at least being <i>me</i> as a single adult, involves a lot of hats to wear, while performing a juggling routine. The pressures I place on myself to do my best at being a daughter, a sister, a granddaughter, a mentor, a friend, a volunteer teacher, a business professional, a student, a decent housekeeper (in training), an aspiring gardener (very much in training), all while keeping the car repaired, the bills payed, getting enough sleep, helping with whatever needs helping with, exercising, knowing when to stop and "smell the roses", and all the other odds and ends of life can pile up. The pile-up leads to a constant mental pressure that feels like an elephant is sitting on your brain. You know the feeling, right? Because I am trying to do all these things at once, I am constantly trying to catch up... except, I never do. I am so busy completing tasks with deadlines, or trying to catch up, that I rarely have a steady pace in my everyday schedule. I don't like that.<br />
<br />
I love the sweet way my mom raised us... a slow pace... weekly piano lessons in Small Town... monthly nursing home visits... school at home every day... and playing outside or chores all inbetween. We had a slow, steady, and sweet rythmn... we knew what to expect each day, usually. There was a peace and calmness about it. <br />
<br />
Surely we were created for a steady rhythm and a <a href="http://artofmanliness.com/2012/08/11/manvotional-the-majesty-of-calmness/" target="_blank">majestic calmness</a>? Or perhaps there are seasons of both schedule steadiness and seasons of schedule schisms, each in turn? <br />
<br />
Whatever the case, joy must be found in the dance of the everyday- whether the music I dance to is <i>agitato</i> or <i>tempo</i> <i>semplice</i>. If joy cannot be found in one, what makes me think it will be found in the other? <br />
<br />
Oh well... it will all work itself out... in the mean time, I have a Helper.<br />
<br />
<b>Behold, God is mine Helper.</b> (Ps. 54:4) <br />
<br />
And that's all I really need to know for today. <br />
<br />
Okay, it's off to the post office and beyond! The therapy of pen of paper, or fingers on keyboard, never fails. <br />
<br />
(I don't have time to proofread, so I apologize in advance of the error of my ways.)Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-24428365005044254982012-05-20T16:14:00.001-05:002012-05-20T16:14:27.030-05:00an uninteresting update.Well, here I am. Haunting the dusty little corner of cyberspace where I've staked my claim. I'm ridiculously bad about putting enjoyable things like blogging to the very back of the list when my life gets busy and crazy... it's always the first thing to go. Which is sad, because I really think it would help me, mentally anyway (and my poor friends know I need all the help I can get in that area!), but it doesn't have a deadline attached to it, and so I don't.<br />
<br />
Yet so much has been happening since I last wrote here. I started College Plus to work towards a degree in journalism... I've worked in the real estate industry for the past seven or so years, and I felt it was time for a change. To pay for said degree, I got a steady job that was quite interesting and challenging, but the hours were simply too many and there were some things that made me feel the need to quit... so after only three months there, the Lord made it quite clear that I needed trust Him and leave. So I did. Now I am somewhat unemployed, as of the last two week. And I must say I am enjoying it. So much had slipped through the cracks those three months... housework, correspondence, school time with dear ones... you name it, and I've been behind on it. I'm beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but there's still so much I'd like to get done before I find another job. But, the bills keep coming, which is very unfortunate. <br />
<br />
Also, I am going to China in a little over a month for over three weeks. I will be teaching English to highschoolers at a summer camp with a team from the Chinese outreach I go to most Friday nights. We are excited to see all that He will do there during our trip. And I am trying not to be overwhelmed with the millions of details about the trip (I am not zealous about details, so a trip that is centered around details is good stretching for me)... one of my sweet sisters, Michelle, and one of my very dearest friends, Sarah, and many other good friends will be going, so we're sure to have fun while we accomplish God's plan for us there. <br />
<br />
So, that's a brief overview of the big events of my life right now... and this is a boring and self-centered post. I am sorry. But my sisters and I stayed entirely too late last night at a friend's going away party, where I ate more chocolate cake than I should have, I might add, and today I pay the price by feeling very dull witted and uninteresting. I am totally to blame for feeling tired, because once I got home from the party, I felt too tired to get ready for bed, so I lolled around the kitchen, and then at my laptop, and then loaded the coffee maker, and then lolled some more on my laptop... when I finally could think of no more excuses to loll, I went upstairs to get ready for bed, and then dawdled doing that. Stupid. I am not a night owl, but sometimes I give a good imitation of one, and I always pay for it the next day. <br />
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Anyway, I hope to catch up with all my blogging buddies real soon and I hope to come up with something more interesting to say next time. <br />
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Godspeed to all until then. <br />
~M<br />
<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/-4G5BeoeM_XA/T7ld8AkVYYI/AAAAAAAACFE/27f27QKht0M/s1600/coffee+love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4G5BeoeM_XA/T7ld8AkVYYI/AAAAAAAACFE/27f27QKht0M/s400/coffee+love.jpg" width="375" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the size of cup of coffee I need today. Most days, actually, but especially today would be nice. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-83862511848663767052012-01-17T14:57:00.003-06:002012-01-17T14:57:59.932-06:00on my mind this cloudy tuesdayI've been thinking about:<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-Decisions. Many decisions about my life and job direction. Like a tangled knotted necklace chain, each knot is individual and complex, but yet they all connected and contingent on another.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-About how some people have their eyeballs in backwards. They challenge me not to give in to my natural tendency to do the same. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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-About how some people have such mature and beautiful perspectives on things, and life. They (some are my dear blog buddies) challenge me to see the world through shades of their lovely colors. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
-About how some people make me feel like I should apologize to them before I ever open my mouth, but then how I realize that it might be them that has more of a problem than me, and how life is too short to spend worrying about offending people that surround themselves with eggshells and require that you not step on any of them. Do you know how hard it is not to step on eggshells when they are all over the place?? For this too-honest-for-her-own-good-at-times gal it is very hard. So, I joyfully quit. But, I do ask the Lord to help me to be more gentle... and more careful to consider how other people were raised, life experiences, etc., and how it makes them respond the way they do. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-I think about how thankful I am for the dear friends with whom I enjoy candid, honest, and edifying colloquy (isn't that a great word??).</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-About how I love the warm, vibrant, enthusiasm of my family. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-About how I need to revise the little white Christmas tree here in my room from a Christmas tree to a Valentine tree. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-About how I need to start managing my time better and wrapping up those ever nagging to-do list stragglers. <conscience wince> Somewhere along the way, last year I guess it was, I fell off that bandwagon and I don't feel like I get near as much done as I did when I had twice as much on my plate as I do now. Or, maybe it's just that I don't need that much grace now, because I was, in reality, working myself silly back then. </conscience wince></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-About how I really should start blogging more. (again, the time management issue haunts me) And being a blogger-perfectionist less. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-About how I need to make a list of all the sewing projects that I need to finish, and then <i>finish</i> them. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-About my natural tendency to be self-reliant. And how that is sin. And how I should hourly be reminding myself that it is only through God's grace and strength that I can do anything worthwhile. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-About the GOP debate last night and how it was the best one yet. I so love election years. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-About how I really should shut up now and go work on those nagging to-dos. </div>
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<br /></div>Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-81440991426765068072012-01-08T17:09:00.000-06:002012-01-08T17:09:09.564-06:00rememberingI'm sure I can't think of a lovelier way to spend a Sunday afternoon than to sit on the branch of a ground-sweeping oak tree at the back of our land in the middle of no place in particular and to think and pray... to listen, feel, and simply <i>be</i>. Sometimes, there in the meadow, it almost seems as if one is on holy ground. The Holy Spirit seems to be in the very breeze, and in the quiet, things come into proper perspective. <br />
<br />
We've all crossed the threshold of a new year since I last wrote... new years are good times to take a long look into the inventory of our souls and at the compass of our lives. And, to <i>remember</i>. To recollect lessons learned, joys experienced, and trials weathered. A friend of Facebook recently asked if anyone named their years, based on an idea or writing from Ann Voscamp. I hadn't heard or thought of the idea before, but it seemed like a ponder-worthy thing. My friend said her 2011 would be named "Letting Go". I had a hard time thinking of what I would name 2011, if I so decided. <br />
<br />
But then, I stumbled across a word that summed it up: <i>Selah. </i>Yes, that sums it up in one beautiful word.<br />
<i><br /></i><br />
2011 was a year of pause... of rest, pondering, and growth that wasn't much chartable. At the time. Now, I see, looking back, that the year called, <i>Selah</i>, was, as all the others, a year of growth, even though I felt like nothing was happening. The very inactivity of it was what was accomplishing things. <br />
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The beginning of 2011 found me severely burnt out, and a general human heap of exhaustion, brokenness, and confusion. The end of 2011 found me standing, rested, rejoicing, and hopeful. That is nothing short of God's work. <br />
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In 2011 I:<br />
-took three months for a sabbatical from pretty much everything but work.<br />
-I lost a lot of dead weight... dead weight relationships, closet clutter, schedule clutter, spiritual clutter, and the weight of what other people thought.<br />
-I waited, and waited, and waited on God to give direction jobwise. <i>And I learned, by the very end of the year, to sing praises even before you cross the Red Sea, even before you know how God is going to get you across... but just because you know that He <b>will.</b></i><br />
-I reconnected with my inner pianist... :) a part of me that had gotten left behind somewhere along the way.<br />
-I was given a piano (more on that to come!)<br />
-We moved and I learned to embrace the quiet country life, once again... <i>reconnecting with your roots is a very good thing</i>. <br />
-I started the journey of learning how to live <i>well, blamelessly, beautifully, and simply.</i><br />
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God did good things... many good things. Much more than the above, but those are a few. <br />
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One of my favorite milestone memories of 2011was on my birthday... during homechurch I requested that we sing a favorite hymn of mine, Great Is Thy Faithfulness. We barely got through the first verse, and I started crying. Really crying. I couldn't even finish singing along to my own song request! I was so thankful, so joyful, at recalling God's faithfulness that it was all I could do but weep. Those who know me well know that that is so not like me (although I think I have cried more in this past year than all the other teen and adult years put together- praise God for brokenness!).... but it is so like the Lord. He takes a stubborn girl and breaks her, so that He can rebuild her with a tender and grateful heart. I so love that about Him. I so appreciate the trials... the winter seasons of the heart... the years of <i>Selah</i>.<br />
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I don't know what 2012 will hold... it'll be fun to see. But it's so nice to know that His faithfulness will be as great in 2012 as it was in 2011. What about you... what would name would best reflect 2011 for you?<br />
<br />Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-82322322705396166572011-12-30T17:46:00.000-06:002011-12-30T17:46:18.096-06:00a happiest of birthdays postMaybe now that Christmas is over I can resume my normal haphazard schedule of blogging.... Christmastime ended up being quite the sprint! Sometimes it takes a sister sharing their cold with you before you slow down... like in my case. Such has forced me to be at home right now rather than with Mom and the sisters out celebrating Mom's birthday this afternoon (the aforementioned sister has not only shared her cold, but used up pretty much all the Kleenex in the house; so I have been elegantly toting around rolls of toilet paper... and Rudolph and I look like we could be first cousins) Boo. But, I am trying to make the most of it by indulging in my new Pinterest addiction, chatting with a few friends, reading, and resting. And making black bean brownies (do not judge until you have tried them. besides, they are good for people with diet restrictions) in lieu of a birthday cake so that tonight we can party like homeschool rock stars for Mom's birthday (which of course will include dinner, brownies, and an old movie... a great way to spend any evening). <br />
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Speaking of <a href="http://myforestcathedral.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Mom's</a> birthday, I should very much like to take a few moments to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!, from my laptop to hers. Mom is quite the special lady... I really appreciate that she takes time for the little things, like encouraging people, chatting with the cashier at the store, looking at the sunset, or any other small thing that is important. Most importantly, she helps us all keep our priorities in order, remembering what's big and what's not in the light of eternity. Mom was quite the artist, pre-homemaking days, and still is... but her art has shifted from pencil and paper to hearts and home, and I am blessed to be a beneficiary. Most importantly, Mom loves Jesus, pure and simple. And did I mentions she's my favorite coffee buddy? 'Cause she is. I hope I can be the sort of mom she is one day... it's a high aspiration, but I'm blessed to know that I have her wise council and as a mentor, friend, and example all along the way. <br />
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~Mom and I, Christmas 2011~</div>
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I hope to write again soon because I wrote hardly anything of what I wanted to and now I have to go help with dinner. Love to all, ~M</div>Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-81054440830690177952011-12-24T10:57:00.001-06:002011-12-24T10:57:43.604-06:00I want to be like....Oh for grace to be like <i>Mary</i>... who said, yes, Your will, Lord! No hesitation to accept God's grace and mandate; no first protests for personal comfort, previous plans, or the opinions of others. <br />
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Oh for grace to be like <i>the shepherds</i>... willing for their work to be inturrupted, ready to do the angel's bidding. Living a life of humility and quietness... practicing the stillness nessesary to hear God's plan. <br />
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Oh for grace to be like <i>Simeon</i>... filled with the Holy Spirit, alert, listening, watching, and bold. <br />
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Oh for grace to be like<i> Anna</i>... faithful... constant... worshipful... prayerful and disciplined... waiting and watching, for the coming of the Redeemer. The loss of her husband, and many many years as a widow did not make her bitter, selfish, or inward, but rather more faithful and devoted to worship, fasting, and prayer. Anna knew God and so she recognized Him when He came... if ever we need a role model for what a Godly woman should be like when she is old, I believe it is found in Anna. <br />
<br />Oh that like all these characters, I would be found faithful, willing, quiet, flexible, prayerful, hopeful, worshipful, and alert... <i>because He who came, is coming again.</i> <br />
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Before He left this old earth, He told us to wait for Him and to be found faithful, ready, and watching when He returns (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mat.%2024:42,%20Mk.%2013:33-37,%20Lk.%2012:37-39,%20Lk.%2021:34,%2036,%20Rev.%203:1-3,%2016:15&version=NKJV" target="_blank">Mat. 24:42, Mk. 13:33-37, Lk. 12:37-39, Lk. 21:34, 36, Rev. 3:1-3, 16:15</a>). The next time He comes it will be as the King of Kings, Lord of Lords, the Lion of Judah, the valiant Bridegroom returning for His own.<br />
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When He returns, I want to be found in the same state as these favorite Christmas story characters of mine... they didn't know God as Man (as baby, really) would be coming that day or that year... but I have a feeling it wouldn't have made much difference, had they known. They lived their daily lives this way because they feared and loved God... faithful in the hum-drum, always listening, willing, waiting, and watching. <br />
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Jesus may or may not return in my lifetime. But I want to be faithful in the hum-drum, always listening, willing, waiting, and watching. Ready. Prepared. Obedient. Filled with the Holy Spirit. <br />
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I can hear the lessons from these faithful witnesses, or I can heed them. Hope cannot be borrowed and preparation cannot be shared, I've heard it said. I want to <i>heed</i> their wordless examples... <i><b>for He who came, <u>is</u> coming again. </b></i></div>
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<i><b> </b></i></div>Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-89436859042014506442011-11-26T23:06:00.001-06:002011-11-28T09:12:35.658-06:00of cool fronts and thanksgiving, comfort zones and fear...<br />
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<span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">It's raining here... a delicious cool front has come into town, and from the weather report says it will be staying all this new week. A welcome visitor indeed. Perhaps summer's warm temperatures have finally packed their bags once and for all? But in Texas, there is no guarantee that they won't be back week after next. That's just another great thing about living in Texas though: if you don't like the weather, just wait a few hours; it will probably change. </span></span></div>
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<span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">We had a lovely Thanksgiving filled with joy, blessings, and the peace of God. Lea and I brought our grandpa up on Tue and brought him back down yesterday. It was a good five hour plus drive round trip both days, but how thankful we are for good roads and good company to enjoy on such trips. Grandpa hadn't been up to visit us since my high school graduation... nearly nine years ago now, I guess! </span></span></div>
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<span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">He's quite the interesting character... all German with sharp blue eyes, smart as a whip, amazing long term memory, sassy and stubborn, but yet kind and sensitive all at the same time. Every once in a while he spouts off some off color something or another; t</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">he next, he's the perfect Southern gentleman of well bred manners and high standards</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">... he was cut out of unconventional cloth, and quite the rebel. No box will you stuff him into, by golly! He'll see to that.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Grandpa moved down even further south to take care of his step-mother, but even after she died he's lived there alone for probably 10 years or so. For all our prodding over the years to move up near us, his reply was always to laud the praises of low tax rates, no traffic, and a grocery store that has anything he could want. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Now days, I do believe the companionship of a low tax rate has proven to be bad company and with his visit here this week, he's realized that he's missing out on the lives of his only family. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">It's taken 10 years and many missed memories to realize that change isn't always something to fear. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">When we picked him up on Tuesday, before we even got outside of the city limits of his little town he began remarking on how long it'd been since he'd seen various landmarks... the further we got from his gloomy little home and comfortable small town, the more alive I could feel him becoming. During the few day visit, he was all things cheerful and social.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">On the drive back yesterday I could almost feel him shrinking back at every mile that brought us closer to his home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">He'd stepped into the light and warmth of family and love... of conversations over coffee and memories shared with his only daughter... of cheerful homes and granddaughters that bustled in the kitchen. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Comfort zones and familiarity didn't seem quite so safe anymore. It's not safe to miss out on the good things God might have in store for you, just because of fear. Fear of anything, save the Lord, is bad company to keep. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Lea and I drove up to his little house near the water... we walked him back in his dark bachelor-kept little living room... we prepared to travel back home... he broke up and started to cry and said he wished we didn't have to leave. I wanted to cry and wished I didn't have to leave. I felt like someone who'd let a butterfly from it's cocoon, and then after letting it soar a bit, stuffing it back in it's dark corner. Offers to make a pot of coffee and stay for a bit was met with his over-riding concern about us getting home before dark. Bless his heart. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I think he will move here eventually. Hopefully soon. I think he's finally realized that comfort zones can be dangerous places and that fear is a bad companion. A fresh and good reminder for me too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">It forces me to examine my life... comfort zones I am clinging to and fears I am friending. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Whenever Grandpa does move down, I know there will be growing pains. Things to get used to. Give and take. That's life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">This I'm learning: there's no life in clinging only to what you know because you're afraid of what you might get. I must choose to open my heart and walk outside of my comfort zones. There is always risk involved in both of those things... but to choose risk is to choose faith, and to choose faith is to choose the way of blessings. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I want to choose the way of blessings. I want to choose faith. I want to say no to fear and no to perpetual comfort zones. I want to say yes to Jesus. Always. Every time. The Jesus way is always best. </span></div>
<br />Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-19403414603720959852011-11-09T17:11:00.000-06:002011-11-09T17:11:16.732-06:00stuff and nonsenseI really haven't a foggy idea of what to write about, but I feel like I ought to anyway. Write, that is. The day just feels perfect for it. It's been a knockout of a fall day... cold (for us), gorgeous, and windy. And sunny too. There are two varieties of lovely fall days: the sunny blue sky sort, and the gray cloudy blustery sort. Today was the former, but I'll take either and be just as delighted. After tying up some business loose ends, Mom and I had a very nice jaunt into Small Town for a few errands. I found little Christmas gifts for my Chinese girls and a new Christmas tree for my room (every since Lea and I stopped sharing a room, there has been a custody battle going on over our little shared tree. Today, I found a BIGGER and BETTER one... bwahahaha. She can have the wee one footer... I found a FOUR FOOTER for an extremely reasonable price. ha.). Fitting it in my room could prove to be interesting though. <br />
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My life these days is a series of twists and turns and everything up in the air. Well, not everything <i>everything</i>, but too many for comfort. But since when has God been concerned the most about my comfort? He likes to make me uncomfortable, and I appreciate that. Because the uncomfortableness is always prodding me on to new territory, more battles won, and a greater empathy for others. <br />
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I'm learning to trust God with the unknowns, which is a lifelong lesson, I think. At least in my life to date. Not just the big unknowns (those can be easy sometimes), but the small ones... like if I put my name out there for as a piano teacher, will I actually get takers and will I be a good teacher? And if I do, how will the schedule work out, and should I put my name out in three separate towns, and if I do what day should I do which and will it all work out? It is confusing. It is a practice in trusting God. So that makes it good.<br />
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Other than that, the continual stretching of the soul and friendly sisterly battles over Christmas trees, not too terribly much has been going on. Nothing truly interesting to report. <br />
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I have rambled enough now and should go inside and make pumpkin bread to bring to a couple of neighbors. Sounds like a pleasant and wise use of time, yes? Soon all the family will be coming home and together for a warm and cozy dinner and then we'll watch the Republican presidential nominee debate. We love watching those things so much, we clear the whole night's agenda for riveted debate watching. Whatever needs to be done is always done either before or after the debate; never during. Only listening or the occasional talking-to-the-tv is allowed. We're a family of political junkies. Okay, I really am going to go make the pumpkin bread now.Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-43224500570388194192011-11-02T15:19:00.000-05:002011-11-02T15:19:43.983-05:00reminders of His great love<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/-pKMizUT6ycc/TrCpwz7AbSI/AAAAAAAACEM/hB6Xy_LJbMM/s1600/IMG_0242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pKMizUT6ycc/TrCpwz7AbSI/AAAAAAAACEM/hB6Xy_LJbMM/s640/IMG_0242.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The other day I was sitting on my bed prinking (<i>to prink:to pray and think interchangeably; to prayerfully think</i>). <br /><br />
I looked up and happened to focus in on my little scripture card, <br />the sun clearly outlining the silhouette of my little cast iron knight standing behind the card, behind a clear promise... <br />that it is HE who will fight on my behalf. <br /><br /><i>{Sometimes women, girls, everyone really, needs to be reminded that they are not facing the battles alone.}</i><br /><br />I need only to hold my peace and rest in Him. The Lord will fight for me.<br />
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Children of God walking in the Light are never alone, never without a loving Shield and Defender.<br /><br />
May the Lord be your Warrior and your Peace today. <br />We need only to stand back and let Him.<br />
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"The Lord will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace" ~Ex. 14:14 </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<br />Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-15960112809926241922011-10-28T17:00:00.002-05:002011-10-28T17:06:46.204-05:00"How can you have failed to see that a real pleasure was the last thing you ought to have let him meet?" (Screwtape)Early this week <a href="http://visionforagodlyhome.blogspot.com/">Mom</a> and I were at Small Grocery Store in the wonderful world of Small Town. We bought out about a third of their produce department (I exaggerate. But it does seem like a lot.), where I covetously snagged the very last and only eggplant. (how dare they run out of eggplant right as the Italians are rolling into town?! Rude.) Finally, we wandered over to the aisle of toiletries. Unfortunately I have a weakness for lovely soap and nicely scented hand sanitizer. I spotted a little bottle of "Vanilla Cream & Apple Blossoms" *pink* hand sanitizer! Mom had the proper response (don't you hate it when you're shopping and your shopping buddy does <i>not </i>have the proper response to an indubitably cool item? because there <b>is</b><i> </i>a <b>proper</b> way to respond to exciting shopping finds, and the words bland, monotone, or non-enthused, do not describe it.). As a matter of fact, she went beyond a proper response and put two in the cart; one for me, and one for her. What a pal. I was excited. "It's the little things in life that make the world go 'round," I contentedly sighed. <br />
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And it is true. It really is the little things that can be the big things in life. The little kindnesses that give grace to life. The little pleasures like a steamy mug of tea or coffee on a blustery day, or driving with the windows open on a beautiful one. Or a good book that makes you laugh or think. Or coming downstairs on a fall day smelling the fresh air mixed in with a cinnamon spice candle. Or a leisurely walk. Or a good family dinner. Or music that makes your heart yearn for a deeper Beauty. Or perfume that makes the day more special. Or trying to dance like the kids in a Charlie Brown episode. Or laughing until you cry. Or a warm home to return to. Or the homey sound of a gas burner lighting into a flame in a still early morning hour. Or... you get the picture. Simple Pleasures, all of them. Straight from God's hands to ours. I've been thinking about this, ever since I read from <u>The Screwtape Letters</u> by C.S. Lewis. Maybe you'd like to read the quotes from it to?<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"And now for your blunders. On your own showing
you first of all allowed the patient to read a book he really enjoyed,
because he enjoyed it and not in order to make clever remarks about it
to his new friends. In the second place, you allowed him to walk down
to the old mill and have tea there- a walk through country he really
likes, and taken alone. In other words, you allowed him two real
positive Pleasures. Where you so ignorant as to not see the danger of
this? The characteristics of Pains and Pleasures is that they are
unmistakeably real, and therefore, as far as they go, give the man who
feels them a touchstone of reality. Thus if you had been drying to damn
your man by the Romantic method- by making him a kind of Childe Harold
or Werther submerged in self-pity for for imaginary distresses- you
would try to protect him at all costs from any real pain; because, of
course, five minutes' genuine toothache would reveal the romantic
sorrows for the nonsense they were and unmask your whole stratagem. But
you were trying to damn your patient by the World, that is by palming
off vanity, bustle, irony and expensive tedium as pleasures. How can
you have failed to see that a <i>real</i> pleasure was the last thing
you ought to have let him meet? Didn't you foresee that it would just
kill by contrast all the trumpery which you have been so laboriously
teaching him to value? And that sort of pleasure which the book and the
walk gave him was the most dangerous of all?<br />
.... <br />
<br />
"The deepest longings and impulses of any man are the raw
material, the starting-point, which which the Enemy has furnished him.
To get him away from those is therefore always a point gained; even in
things indifferent it is always desirable to substitute the standards of
the World, or convention, or fashion, for a human's own real likings
and dis-likings. I myself would carry this very far. I would make it a
rule to eradicate from my patient any strong personal taste which is
not actually a sin, even if it is something quite trivial such as a
fondness for country cricket or collecting stamps or drinking cocoa.
Such things, I grant you, have nothing of virtue in them; but there is a
sort of innocence and humility and self-forgetfulness about them which I
distrust. The man who truly and disinterestedly enjoys any one thing in
the world, for its own sake, and without caring two-pence what other
people say about it, is by that very fact forearmed against some of our
subtlest modes of attack. You should always try to make the patient
abandon the people or food or books he really likes in favour of the
'best' people, the 'right' food, the 'important' books. I have known a
human defended from strong temptations to social ambition by a still
stronger taste for tripe and onions."</blockquote>
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With Thanksgiving coming up, it's a lovely time to count our blessings... so many simple pleasures the Lord blesses us with. So many blessings. What a <i>kind</i> God we serve. He has filled His world full of simply beautiful every-day pleasures for us to enjoy. <br />
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"All those fasts and vigils and stakes and crosses are only a facade. Or only like foam on the seashore. Out at sea, out in His sea, there is pleasure, and more pleasure. He makes no secret out of it; at His right hand are 'pleasures forevermore'. ... He has filled His world full of pleasures. There are things for humans to do all day long without His minding in the least.... Everything has to be <i>twisted</i> before it's any use to us." <span style="font-size: x-small;">(also from <u>The Screwtape Letters</u> by Lewis) </span></blockquote>
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And now, I'm off on this blustery fall eve to the Chinese mission. I'm getting the teenage boys combined in my class tonight. This could be interesting. But not to worry, I shall put on the most teacherly-air I possess and firmly but kindly convey that they must behave. At least I'm going to try to, anyway... no guarantees as I have yet to perfect my own version of an 'evil eye' that would freeze a unruly teen into behaving. Hopefully I will have no need to practice on them.<br />
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Blessings and simple pleasures to you all,<br />
~MMariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-15802327549235364752011-10-19T06:10:00.000-05:002011-10-19T06:10:09.841-05:00early morning thoughts...It's much to early to be up but I wasn't sleeping well and sometimes the best thing to do is just get up. These wee hours find our kitten, Marilla, in a decidedly (and unusually, I should add) docile mood and snuggled up beside me. Peppermint tea sits steaming from one of my favorite mugs.<br />
<br />
I think back to last week, when for three seperate days I left the house early, when the autumn moon was still high above the tree line, for a long 2 hr plus drive not counting a good dose of big city traffic thrown in. A dear friend of mine, and some of her sisters, teach itinerant (at the student's home) piano lessons, and since they were out of town, they asked if I could fill in, which I was delighted to do. The Lord showed Himself so faithful to me during those three days in a lot of ways, but one of the most special was a Divine Appointment with "Nana".<br />
<br />
One of families I taught I had five children in the family, four of whom take lessons. The mother passed away unexpectedly this year, and their grandmother, "Nana", has been caring for and homeschooling them all since. My heart went out to these children, and on my way out, I began chatting a bit with the grandmother.<br />
<br />
"Oh, call me Nana, everybody does!" she insisted. Then, I found out her husband had just died a year or two ago... her daughter this year, and now she as an older lady was playing the role of "mom" for a very active household. It could wear a young person out. I searched her face and voice for negative emotions... and found none. Instead, this lady who's been through so much, was glowing with the joy and presence of the Lord.<br />
<br />
"Jesus said He came that we might have life! and have it more abundantly! and that our joy might be <i>full!</i> We just have to call out that joy that Jesus said is in us through Him!" she excitedly and animatedly shared.<br />
<br />
She went on to share about how precious her "hour of power" (time with the Lord in the morning) is, and how He gives her strenght even when she is most tired. This lady is going through so much, but yet she is one of the most joyful people I've met in a long time. What a blessing!<br />
<br />
I <i>needed</i> to have this edifying conversation with this saintly lady, and I knew it. Except... 15 mins passed... then 30. Then almost 45. And we were still fellowshipping in the kitchen. And I still had about four other families with multiple students on my route... and for an itinerant piano teacher, it's a domino effect if you get behind and it can be a disaster. And I knew I was getting seriously behind and that this could be bad. Real bad. <i>But</i>, I <i>knew</i> I was supposed to be having that conversation, and I <i>knew</i> that I could trust the Lord to work out the rest of my schedule. <br />
<br />
After the last edifying word, promises to pray for each other, and a hug, I got in the car and called the next family on my route... they were fine with my being late. I called the next person.... who wanted to know if it might be a double blessing to both of us to cancel their lesson for that day? Would it!?! That got me exactly back on track, and I was able to finish the day as planned. Does God know what He is doing, or does He not? I believe God wants us to walk by faith and not be sight, even in the small things, like a day's schedule. Perhaps mostly in the small things, actually, because only when we learn the small things will get move on to bigger. <br />
<br />
I drove home that night when the moon adorned the autumn sky again, and only the russet hues of the last whispers of sunset remained... and I praised God, <i>Who does all things well.</i> We can trust Him today... even in the smallest things. That's the beauty of being <i>dependent</i>.Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-37438471785934143342011-10-06T20:10:00.001-05:002011-10-07T07:59:45.712-05:00this & that-I didn't mean to fall off the Blogger Bandwagon... but we were out of town all last week, and I have spent the first part of this week since I've been back both playing CatchUp and being sick. Today, I am not only feeling better, but I am nearly caught up, and I call that a very good thing. Yay God. <br />
<br />
-While I was out of town, I roamed several Flea Market stores, and one resale shop. They were all the sort of shops with lots of dust, plenty of junk, but with treasures waiting to be sought out, with just a bit of hunting. It's kind of like an Easter egg hunt. A few of their treasures came home to Texas with me: an entire set of six CS Lewis books (including a few I've been wanting!) for seventy-five cents; two old hardback books with beautiful covers to make purses out of (yes, that's right, purses); and a retro sewing pattern from the 60s (I am currently making a dress from a retro 40s pattern... if that turns out to be wearable, why not try my hand at another?). It's the little things in life, I tell ya. <br />
<br />
-We had a lovely time on our family vacation... we didn't do a lot of anything, except perhaps, wandering and roaming the sights and stores, and that was perfect for this year. And I drank copious amounts of coffee and tea too. That was also perfect. <br />
<br />
-Since returning, Becs and I have started a very strict diet regimen for abundant-health purposes (I am something of an Herb Nerd and Becs is always wanting to try some extreme new health pursuit, so we are a bit dangerous together). We can have as much of we want of practically nothing. Becs is like a little hawk, and if I so much as put the wrong sort of vegetable on my plate she gives the The Eye and fusses. I do not exaggerate. I hope I survive the next six weeks. However, it is so so good to bring my flesh into submission in this way and exercise those muscles of discipline... it's good, every now and then, to do something your flesh really hates doing. Somehow, the physical and the spiritual work together, and not only do I find my physical self-discipline strengthening, but then I find my spiritual discipline begins giving my spiritual muscles a new workout and that is always good. It's one of the benefits of fasting too... My dad, for as long as I can remember, fasts one day a week (breakfast and lunch) for spiritual reasons, and some of us have followed that example in some way or another. It helps builds spiritual stamina and helps keep your gaze steady on The Prize. I love what the Apostle Paul says, <i>'Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it. And everyone who competes for the prize is temperate in all things. Not they do it to obtain a perishable crown, but we for an imperishable crown. Therefore I run thus: not with uncertainty. Thus I fight: not as one who beats air. But I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should become disqualified.' (1 Cor. 9:24-27)</i> The Apostle Paul sure was smart. Christians should be some of the most disciplined people out there. <br />
<br />
-I got some fall cleaning done today... this included cleaning windows. I'm sure no one realizes how many windows their house has until it is time to clean them.<br />
<br />
-These days I find myself praying about going to China next summer for three weeks. My flesh doesn't much want to go, I do not know if I will go, but I think it's a possibility that the Lord might want me to go. There is a need, and what are these single years for, but to serve the Lord with all that I am? Whether it is this need or another one that I am supposed to step up to, is yet to be seen. We shall see. <br />
<br />
-This is all for now, I suppose. I want to keep my seat on the Blogger Bandwagon for a longer period of time this round... you know, that discipline thing I was talking about? ha! Yes, it needs to extend to time management and making time for more than just the immediate-urgent tasks in front of me as well.<br />
<br />
-I am thankful today for: music {it enriches life so much}... good family team-work... blustery days and afternoon showers... safe travels... trials that put steel in the backbone... enriching books... my own room... happy faces... thoughtful and pondering faces... my favorite season being upon us... Celestial Seasoning's seasonal Candy Cane Lane tea being back on the shelf!... the strong and mighty love of God... Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-60124559683905518132011-09-21T23:08:00.000-05:002011-09-21T23:33:37.225-05:00'rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation'<br />
<i>I... (sob) <sob> just... (sob) <sob> am so (sob) <sob>tired (sob) <sob> and I (sob)<sob> don't <sob sob=""> under<sob>(sob)stand (sob) and I don't (sob) know (sob)<sob sob=""> what to <sob> (sob) do... </sob></sob></sob></sob></sob></sob></sob></sob></sob></i>etc. etc. etc. etc. <br />
<br />
I don't often sob and I don't often ask the Lord 'why?' and I don't often cry out vocally to the heavens. But the proverbial straw had broken the proverbial camel's back and an avalanche of built up frustrations came tumbling as I sat out just under a giant oak tree and a sunny sky in the middle of the boondocks. I had hurriedly stuffed about six pieces of Kleenex into my pocket before heading out for a walk, and by the time I got to the back of the property, I had used most of them. There I sat down and promptly flooded out the last two remaining tissues and unburdened my heart to the Lord. It's a good time to get-a-grip when you realize you're on your last Kleenex, which I was, and so I did... and then finished my walk. <br />
<br />
Life is so peculiar. So confusing sometimes. So full of question marks, you know?<br />
<br />
I read this in my <u>Streams in the Desert</u> devotional (from <a href="http://www.womenofchristianity.com/?p=5828%20%29%20which%20was%20balm%20to%20the%20soul:">this entry</a> ) the next day:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
<i>"Friend, you do not have to understand all God’s ways with you. God does
not expect you to understand them. You do not expect your child to
understand, only believe. Some day you will see the glory of God in the
things which you do not understand."</i></blockquote>
<br />
Balm for the soul, that's what.<br />
<br />
The answers we can't see, the pain we can't understand, the way covered in obscurity, it's all <i>okay. Some day, we will see the glory of God in the things we do not understand. </i>Right now, we know enough: His heart is good and His plans are perfect and pain is good for us. <br />
<br />
The circumstances and hurts which are the Potter's fingerprints at work, while sometimes not near difficult trials compared to others, are painful and <i>meant</i> to inflict pain. A friend recently shared with me this concept that C.S. Lewis wrote about in <u>The Problem Of Pain</u> (next on my reading list!): we tend to say that our trials are nothing compared to the starving in Africa... While there is truth in that and such knowledge ought certainly to keep us from the pit of self-pity, pain is God's tool, and to attempt to brush it off as <i>nothing</i> is to diminish the good work that pain is meant to accomplish. At least I believe that to be the concept, although someone who has read the book might need to correct me. At any rate, I thought it was a good one and worth pondering.<br />
<br />
In summary: while we shouldn't wallow in our pain to the point of self-pity, we should <i>accept</i> it and let it do it's perfect work in our souls. <br />
<br />
Amy Carmichael wrote a poem I love a lot,<i> For in Acceptance Lieth Peace</i>:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
He said, "I will forget the dying faces;<br />
The empty places,<br />
They shall be filled again.<br />
O voices moaning deep within me, cease."<br />
But vain the word; vain, vain;<br />
<i>Not in forgetting lieth peace.</i><br />
<br />
He said, "I will crowd action upon action,<br />
<i> </i>The strife of faction<br />
Shall stir me and sustain;<br />
O tears that drown the fire of manhood, cease."<br />
But vain the word; vain, vain:<br />
<i>Not in endeavor lieth peace.</i><br />
<br />
He said, "I will withdraw me and be quiet,<br />
<i> </i>Why meddle in life's riot?<br />
Shut be my door to pain.<br />
Desire, thou dost befool me, thou shalt cease."<br />
But vain the word; vain, vain:<br />
<i>Not in aloofness lieth peace.</i><br />
<br />
He said, "I will submit; I am defeated.<br />
God hath depleted<br />
My life of its rich gain.<br />
O futile murmurings, why will ye not cease?"<br />
But vain the word; vain, vain:<br />
<i>Not in submission lieth peace.</i><br />
<br />
He said, "I will accept the breaking sorrow<br />
<i> </i>Which God tomorrow<br />
Will to His son explain."<br />
Then did the turmoil deep within him cease.<br />
<i>Not in vain the word, not in vain;</i><br />
<i>For in Acceptance lieth peace. </i></blockquote>
<br />
Acceptance of pain, acceptance of circumstances, of direction or lack thereof, is where peace is found. But we can only accept these trials, if we realize that in our hand is a coin with two sides... on one side, <i>pain</i>... but on the other, <i>promises</i>. Beautiful,<b> true </b>promises that we can bank on. Promises that the Lord is at work even when we cannot see. That what Satan means for evil, God means for good. That He works out all things for our good and His glory. That it will be <i>okay</i> in the end because<i>, some day, we will see the glory of God in the things we do not understand.</i><br />
<br />
That is all we need to know for now and it is enough for today. <br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>"Cling to what is good... not lagging in diligence, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord; rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation, continuing steadfastly in prayer." (Rom. 12:9b,11,12)</i><br />
<br />Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-3965262084951306372011-09-06T00:11:00.002-05:002011-09-06T10:14:58.519-05:00~Labor Day 2011~It's been a wonderful holiday. One of the best days I've had in a long time, and for no paticuliar reason... except that the Lord is really good to me.<br />
<br />
We have the rare privilage of a cool front in early September, so the weather was beautiful outside. A much welcome respite from all the triple digit temps. I spent as much of it as I could out of doors... I trimmed rose bushes, helped till manure in garden beds, steered an invalid tractor that was being towed, and drove around and a healthy one...I made two pies and a lot of hummus, swung on the swing and felt the breeze brush my skin, sat around the table with my family and grandma and talked about nothing important, and I washed dishes. Lots and lots of dishes (the person who gets dishes on holidays is always pitied; today it was me. but I am thankful for two hands and Chore Boy brand scrubbies.) To top off the pie coffee, and walk, we watched half an old movie about the life of Will Rogers. Who says I don't live an exciting life?<br />
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I carried a camera around with me, some of the time, to capture the day. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RYepFKHcvH0/TmWCwWLhpFI/AAAAAAAACDw/CwEmqS_-5Ws/s1600/IMG_9415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RYepFKHcvH0/TmWCwWLhpFI/AAAAAAAACDw/CwEmqS_-5Ws/s400/IMG_9415.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Becs (17) enjoying both the swing and the breeze with me this morning.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yw6rTFld_1E/TmWCtbhKw3I/AAAAAAAACDs/aZdriwScHwA/s1600/IMG_9449.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yw6rTFld_1E/TmWCtbhKw3I/AAAAAAAACDs/aZdriwScHwA/s400/IMG_9449.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I saw this beautiful butterfly sipping from the lilacs. Butterflies are special to me... they signify new life and new things.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nWRjmUWoMEA/TmWBfDhsJYI/AAAAAAAACDY/ICCYoOJKrek/s1600/IMG_9457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nWRjmUWoMEA/TmWBfDhsJYI/AAAAAAAACDY/ICCYoOJKrek/s400/IMG_9457.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Muppet (21), and Laf (28) in the kitchen working on our festive meal. We were tired of traditional Labor Day food and went for something a bit more unique... Greek food. Yum. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-47H257Py3Eo/TmWCR1APY3I/AAAAAAAACDk/jjseKcROvVE/s1600/IMG_9427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-47H257Py3Eo/TmWCR1APY3I/AAAAAAAACDk/jjseKcROvVE/s400/IMG_9427.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and I tried to get things ready for a fall garden. We're determined not to let the cows and deer get the best of us. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-066k4P0rJBk/TmWBzDBEXYI/AAAAAAAACDg/FzW1yKsf2iI/s1600/IMG_9454.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-066k4P0rJBk/TmWBzDBEXYI/AAAAAAAACDg/FzW1yKsf2iI/s400/IMG_9454.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad held (and used!) my camera while I moved the tractor. I really really love driving the tractor. If I could learn how to work on them (and cars), I'd *really* be a delighted.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O8yw_7N_5dk/TmWBEc9HewI/AAAAAAAACDU/VHx_3l0ChsA/s1600/IMG_9464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O8yw_7N_5dk/TmWBEc9HewI/AAAAAAAACDU/VHx_3l0ChsA/s320/IMG_9464.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Becs made homemade pita bread... I made the hummus. It was rather good, if we do say so ourselves.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coconut cream pie and chocolate cream pie. I have to say, I used <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/emeril-lagasse/coconut-cream-pie-recipe/index.html">this recipe</a> for the coconut cream pie, and it's highly recommended! (I used less sugar than called for and it was still good)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We sat outside to soak in the weather, and enjoy dinner music brought to us by the way of an ipod and speaker.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://myforestcathedral.blogspot.com/">Mom</a> and Muffie. :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j01kiAODWCc/TmWAdj5kIHI/AAAAAAAACDE/34QsWHMcVSg/s1600/IMG_9492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j01kiAODWCc/TmWAdj5kIHI/AAAAAAAACDE/34QsWHMcVSg/s400/IMG_9492.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my grandma (Mom's mom)... true to the Italian Rules, she talks with her hands.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma and Muppet</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laf and I. </td></tr>
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The Lord sure does fill my life with good things. <br />
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<br />
This verse has been running through my head all day:<br />
<br />
<i>"Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. </i><br />
<br />
<i>"Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light." (Mat. 11:28-30)</i><br />
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<i>That</i> is true rest... and all the things that make us so tired (not the good sort of tired, but the worn down sort), perhaps it's because it is not a part of His yoke for us at all... perhaps it is expectations that either we place on ourselves, or that we feel our culture and society expects of us... Perhaps, if we really will <i>come to Him</i> and cross-examine what it is that's making us tired, we really will find rest for our souls. And we will, because He promises. It has certainly proven true in my own heart and I am thankful.<br />
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Goodnight all. I hope to catch up with everyone via comments and reading real soon. Life has been hectic but this week will hopefully be slower. Please pray for Texas folks... we're in a very bad drought and families are losing their homes in all the wildfires (some not very far from where I live)... pray that hearts are turned to the Lord through it all, and for rain.<br />
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May the Lord bless and keep you!<br />
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<br />Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-87846063651121526402011-08-23T23:49:00.001-05:002011-08-23T23:51:43.685-05:00<br />
Sometimes you're just tired, and you don't know why.. and you feel your eye trying to twitch, both of them actually, and everyone seems to have everything together and you're still lost, and you just want to cry and you don't know why and you're not even normally 'a crier' and even a cup of coffee doesn't help.<br />
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And you realize how far you have to go and how uphill the fight and how you sometimes don't even know how to fight. And you're not sure of anything much.<br />
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Except you know that your marching orders are to keep walking, keep marching, keep giving and keep receiving. Orders to keep resting, depending, trusting, and keep on knowing that He is God. One foot of faith in front of the other. One deep breath of rest and trust after the next. Every lie that says you are responsible to change anything or anyone by human strength, defeated with the simple truth that you and your circumstances are completely dependent on Him.<br />
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Then, the wretched neediness is a gift. A gift because He promises to come in our neediness... it is not when we are full, but when we are empty that God-size miracles occur. It wasn't until the Red Sea was an impasse that the Lord parted it, and it wasn't until they were out of water that it came from a rock and out of food that manna came from heaven. <i> </i><br />
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<i>"Yea, they spake against God; they said, Can God furnish a table in the wilderness?</i><br />
<i>"Behold, he smote the rock, that the waters gushed out, and the streams overflowed; can he give bread also? can he provide flesh for his people?</i><br />
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<i>"So He fed them according to the integrity of His heart; and guided them by the skilfulness of His hands."</i> (Psalm 78:19,20,72) <br />
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God <i>can</i> and <i>will</i> furnish a table in the wilderness, bring water from a rock, and manna from heaven... but only when we are needy and dependent.<br />
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Then grace comes... and beautiful testimonies like these put everything into perspective: <a href="http://vimeo.com/11560198">This Was Grace </a><br />
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And then the neediness is seen as what it is: a showcase for God's great work and glory. Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454903249672048772.post-43804833575845176642011-08-22T00:32:00.000-05:002011-08-22T00:32:00.734-05:00-I've been just itching to sit down and write about nothing in particular for the past few days. But since I knew I was trying to get sick and had long days this weekend, I went to bed on time (sort of) like a good child. It's Sunday, but I refuse to be a good child even it is the sabbath; I've have had a nap and that makes me feel justified for staying up a bit later tonight. Besides, people are still talking downstairs and that doesn't help one fall asleep anyway. (now that my conscience is soothed, I can finish my post,) <br />
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-We have an out of town visitor this week. It's a good discipline for me not to idolize my privacy. Introverts do so prize the comfort zone and privacy of home, I think. Too much, sometimes, I'm sure. <br />
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-Time to work on my lesson for the girls group again on Wed... I haven't the slightest inkling what the Lord wants me to share yet. The answer will come some time before Wednesday afternoon, this much I know. <br />
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-We watched "A Man Called Peter" tonight... I love that movie. I love the testimony of Peter Marshall's life. The book is even better than the movie, of course, but the movie is good too. <br />
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-So many Godly and brilliant men die young it seems... have you noticed? Perhaps it's because their impact is most felt after they are gone...? I don't know. I always feel so sorry for their wives having lost them. Of course, then it makes me worry... I want to marry a Godly and brilliant man (at least one who God thinks is Godly, and whom I think is brilliant), but does that mean he'd die young too? Of course, lots of Godly and brilliant men <i>haven't</i> died young, and besides, at the rate I am going, I may never need to worry about such things anyway, so why borrow trouble? <br />
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-Speaking of singleness, my recently widowed grandmother who is 87 years old got asked out recently. She says she is scared to go. This is the same grandma who told me on the phone the other day, "Marianna! Hi! Anything going on? Any boyfriend?" "Oh, noo, just really busy!" "Well, this too shall pass." "Well, singleness is a gift, you know!" "Nah... this too shall pass." All this from a woman scared to go out on a date. ha! To my two dear Italian grandmas, I think there are two main things to fear in life: being ugly and being single forever. Of course I've always given them lots of scares on the former, and Lea and I continue to give them reason to knit their eyebrows together about the latter. Is it awful to find it rather hilarious? Because I do. We've decided if we ever wanted to spite our grandmothers (not that we do, but if we did) we would just be spinsters forever. <br />
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-I'll probably regret admitting all that tomorrow... but, I'll live dangerously and leave it. ha. <br />
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-A Peter Marshall quote that stuck with me: "Small deeds done are better than great deeds planned." I hope to keep that at the forefront of my mind this week. Methinks it would help cure some of the procrastination I find myself stumbling over so often. <br />
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-I'm thankful for: a new week that is one step closer to September... a friend that confidently says "I know God will give direction." and for the fact that they're right... for discernment and wisdom that are promised to us, when we ask... for physical freedom and for those who've given and give their lives to pay the cost... for Sunday afternoon naps... for grace for this new week; I'll need lots and lots of it... <br />
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-Pray for this sister in Christ: http://www.callformercy.com/ and sign the petition. If you're not familiar with Voice of the Martyrs ( www.persecution.com ), I highly recommend looking at their site. These aren't just stories, these are sufferings of our own family, the Body of Christ. <br />
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-I read these wonderful words from Paul this morning, <i>"And see, now I go bound in the spirit to Jerusalem, not knowing the things that will happen to me there, except that the Holy Spirit testifies in every city, saying that chains and tribulations await me. But none of these things move me; nor do I count my life dear to myself, so that I may finish my race with joy, and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God."</i> (Acts 20:22-24) I have so much to learn... <br />
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-The wheels in my brain are grinding to a stop now and for good reason- it's late! Grace, peace and goodnight... and thank you for reading my nonsense, if you got all the way through it. Mariannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11609288266174632443noreply@blogger.com1