tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21031298921699442172024-03-13T11:46:39.478-04:00Life on Sylvan DriveDavenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.comBlogger1479125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-59382371204109568742011-01-18T00:01:00.021-05:002011-06-20T00:45:34.819-04:00After Four Years and 1,479 Posts, It's TimeTime to say goodbye?<br />
<br />
Not exactly. After all, goodbye is so <b><i>final</i></b>.<br />
<br />
How about this: I'm moving!!! <br />
<br />
That's right. After four fantastic years of blogging here at Life on Sylvan Drive, the itch to move got hold of me, so this will be my last post here on this site. My new site is <a href="http://www.davenespilled.com/">here</a>. ;-)<br />
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If you've been around for long, you already know that I rarely do giveaways--once a year when my blogiversary rolls around, and maybe when a new baby is born--that's it. However, since this <b><i>is </i></b>the anniversary of my <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2007/01/here-we-go.html">very first post</a> {which seems} so long ago, I'm excited to do a giveaway now to thank you, my readers who have truly become friends, for walking down Sylvan Drive with me.<br />
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The prize up for grabs is a $20 gift card to <a href="http://www.christianbook.com/">Christianbook.com,</a> and all you have to do to enter is leave a comment on this post OR a comment on the first post of<a href="http://www.davenespilled.com/"> my new blog</a> (or leave one on both, and you'll get two chances to win). Make sure I have an email address for you, so I can send the gift card electronically. I'll randomly choose a winner on Friday, January 21.<br />
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It's been an incredible, life-changing journey these past four years. From the bottom of my heart, thank you, friends--and <s>goodbye</s> see you around!! :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS0tSw22uFI/AAAAAAAAJCQ/552_LBYuqz0/s1600/Fishers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS0tSw22uFI/AAAAAAAAJCQ/552_LBYuqz0/s400/Fishers.jpg" width="277" /></a></div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-50370704687481491372011-01-17T10:37:00.002-05:002016-12-19T00:53:30.821-05:00Jeff's Customers Really Like HimThey must anyway! They sure give him a lot of stuff! :)<br />
<br />
This is by no means an exhaustive list, but here are some things they've given him through the years:<br />
~ garden produce - this is a given; when you live in a gardening community, you're going to be given extra tomatoes and cucumbers and zucchini and whatever else the grower can't use up :)<br />
~ oranges<br />
~ corn-on-the-cob from a "famous" local stand<br />
~ pumpkin bread<br />
~ tickets to the circus<br />
~ a free ride on Cass Scenic Railroad<br />
~ clothes for the boys<br />
~ clothes for Jeff<br />
~ clothes for me<br />
~ puppies :)<br />
~ venison<br />
~ bear meat<br />
<br />
There are definite advantages to being an old-fashioned, small-town barber!<br />
<br />
Saturday, Jeff called from work and announced his latest gift:<br />
<br />
Ducks.<br />
<br />
My thoughts raced, "Ducks? DUCKS? Why would someone give him ducks? Don't we have enough animals around here? And where are we going to put them? We don't have a pond!"<br />
<br />
Then he clarified:<br />
<br />
Dead ducks.<br />
<br />
My thoughts took off again, "Oh, duck meat. Somebody shot some ducks and cut them up and gave Jeff some of the meat. He'll bring home some Ziploc baggies of duck meat; and although I don't really know how to cook duck, we'll figure something out. I can look up some info on the Internet."<br />
<br />
I still didn't have it quite right.<br />
<br />
This is what those ducks looked like:<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TTRNQXoNUtI/AAAAAAAAJGs/AV7FS5UfPjY/s1600/_MG_0006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TTRNQXoNUtI/AAAAAAAAJGs/AV7FS5UfPjY/s320/_MG_0006.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Not exactly nice neat baggies of meat.<br />
<br />
Jeff was not discouraged. His little boy tribe gathered around him and watched as their Daddy-Who-Can-Do-Anything did...well...<i>something </i>to the ducks to get some meat to grill for dinner. The boys thought it was grand.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TTROODVQ6JI/AAAAAAAAJGw/Snbz80wWHQ4/s1600/_MG_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TTROODVQ6JI/AAAAAAAAJGw/Snbz80wWHQ4/s320/_MG_0002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I, on the other hand, didn't enjoy it quite as much. I'm not a vegetarian, and I've lived in the country long enough and spent enough time during my growing-up years on my grandparents' farm to know, for example, that the delicious fried chicken Grandma served for dinner was pecking around the barnyard just the day before and the juicy steaks we enjoyed recently came from the steer whose dark brown eyes I gazed into last summer. It's the cycle of life, and I get that.</div>
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But these ducks were so pretty! In a flash, I turned into one of those kinds of people who doesn't mind eating meat, but would rather buy it wrapped in cellophane at the grocery store, and who doesn't want to think too much about where it came from before that!</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TTROhwid66I/AAAAAAAAJG0/DCBuUq-JNmA/s1600/_MG_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TTROhwid66I/AAAAAAAAJG0/DCBuUq-JNmA/s320/_MG_0003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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If only Jeff's customers weren't quite so generous! ;-)</div>
Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-56198644594804981722011-01-16T14:29:00.000-05:002016-12-19T00:54:54.899-05:00I'm Having a Nightmare about a Summer VacationYesterday's post stirred up all kinds of memories for me, and <a href="http://emilyjoyphoto.blogspot.com/">Emily's </a>comment stirred up even more. :) I tell ya, for all the fun and excitement that vacations bring, there's an awful lot of work involved...and some not-so-fun moments. Now that I've got six months under my belt, it's easy to laugh as I look back on the unglamorous moments from that vacation; but I wasn't laughing so heartily then! Wanna laugh along with me? Here are some of those moments:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
~ Shav pooping in the bathtub four - FOUR - times in a row...I was attending one of the evening sessions with Josiah and David, and Jeff was in the hotel room with Tobin and Shav...the boys were in the tub, Shav pooped, Jeff got the boys out, cleaned the tub, put the boys back in to clean them up, Shav pooped...this happened four times...selfishly I was very glad that I happened to be at the evening session that night!...did I mention it was <b>four </b>times? ;-)<br />
<br />
~ <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/07/dear-dad.html">injuring my toe</a>...who would have guessed that a little toe could produce so much pain?<br />
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<br /></div>
<div>
~ sitting on the floor of the tiny bathroom at 10:00 PM with Tobin in my arms and the light turned off...Shav was having *somewhat* of a difficult time going to sleep the first night in the hotel, and so was Tobin, imagine that!...Tobin's every noise made it worse for Shav, and since I was alone with the four boys (since it was Jeff's turn to go to a session), I decided the easiest thing was to take Tobin into the bathroom where Shav couldn't hear him...I sang in a whisper to Tobin as I cuddled with him in the bathroom, until I was sure Shav was soundly asleep...not the most comfortable environment for cuddling, but at least it worked!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
~ putting Shav down for an afternoon nap in the playpen we took with us, then putting Tobin on the floor between the wall and a bed...he had a pillow and a blanket...then I laid down on the floor with another pillow and blanket to block his escape so he couldn't go over and "visit" Shav...laying down on the floor makes my back hurt almost instantly, but it was a small price to pay for giving Shav the ability to go to sleep...sleep is golden, in such situations...Tobin never did go to sleep there, but later after Shav was snoozing, I let Tobin wander around the room and play quietly (which he did a really good job of)...he finally fell asleep standing up!<br />
<br />
~ I've already mentioned the difficult afternoon we had on Friday of that week: trying to enjoy the Creation Museum while dealing with missed naps, an unruly toddler, terrible heat, and sour attitudes...sleep was such a relief that afternoon...doesn't David look like a little angel here? :)</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TFDour3Ty-I/AAAAAAAAH8Y/4YigiSVDOe4/s1600/_MG_0149.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499151033765710818" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TFDour3Ty-I/AAAAAAAAH8Y/4YigiSVDOe4/s320/_MG_0149.JPG" style="display: block; height: 214px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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<div>
~ after those calm-producing naps, we went out for dinner; but while there, Jeff started feeling really poorly...he actually got horribly sick, and spent most of the night making trips to the bathroom...we were planning to take another day of vacation and come back through Ohio, but we ended up heading home a day early because he was so miserable and we just couldn't wait to be home...we weren't sure how to <i><b>get </b></i>home however, because of his frequent need for a bathroom :)...the thought of towing an outhouse suddenly became appealing!...but in the end, God granted sweet relief to Jeff so that we could make it home without too many stops :)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
~ we did have to make one unplanned stop on the way home...Tobin threw up, adding to the "adventure" of it all...we stopped at a rest area and did our best to get him and his carseat cleaned up before hitting the road again for home</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
~ the mess in our car was horrendous...there was stuff <b><i>everywhere</i></b>, and my neatly-packed suitcases with which we started our journey somehow vomited their contents all over everything...add to that the germs and smell from the sickness, and it was pretty nasty...Tobin's throw-up was just the "icing on the cake!"</div>
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<br /></div>
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By this time, we were sort of throwing our hands up in the air, laughing at how ridiculous it all was, and wondering what else was going to happen. No wonder home was so attractive to us when we finally arrived! When we got home, got everybody into the house, bathed and put the kids in bed, and emptied the car, we decided that we didn't want any more vacations any time soon!!! :)</div>
Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-81497912649542926242011-01-15T23:53:00.002-05:002011-01-16T20:08:45.601-05:00I'm Dreaming of a Summer Vacation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In the almost four years that I've been doing this blog, I've learned a few things about myself. For one thing, I've discovered that I rarely do a good job of posting pictures and writing about the vacations that we've had. You'd think that such exciting events that are really a highlight of the year would warrant considerable blog space; but for some reason, I never seem to get around to doing thorough posts on them. I'm sure that's caused by the fact that when I come back from vacation, life is extra busy for a while as we unpack, catch up on laundry, and get back into the swing of regular life, so it makes sense that I wouldn't immediately devote much time to posting about the vacation. But shouldn't I get around to it <i><b>sometime</b></i>?? :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, in an effort to correct that tendency, I'm sitting here on a cold winter's night, working on this post that I started half a year ago, relishing the sight of these pictures of knobby little boy knees sticking out from shorts, remembering how easy it was to dress the family back in the summer, feeling the sticky weight of July heat that made popsicles so appealing, being astonished by how young all the boys looked just six months ago, and hearing again the laughter that comes from time away, especially with friends!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Because so much time has passed, I'll give a few basic facts about our vacation again. We, along with two other families, traveled to Tennessee to the <a href="http://www.answersingenesis.org/about/events/defending-the-faith-2010">Defending the Faith conference </a>held there. We stayed at <a href="http://www.wildernessatthesmokies.com/">Wilderness at the Smokies,</a> the hotel directly connected to the conference center, and we had an absolute blast there. We definitely took advantage of the fact that our stay at the hotel included free admission to the waterparks. :) After the conference, we headed to northern Kentucky to visit the <a href="http://creationmuseum.org/">Creation Museum</a> before returning to Virginia. That's the condensed version.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now I'll expand on that... :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I loved the architecture and design of the hotel--very neat and attractive and appealing to the eye. When we first walked in our room, I thought, "Oh, this is great! They did a great job decorating this!" By the end of our time, I was still enthused about the decorations, but less so about the size of the room. Six people in that room for a few days felt very cramped, and it also got pretty smelly. Really, all it takes to smell up a hotel room is one poopy diaper; and you can be sure there was more than just one during our time there! :) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One of the highlights of staying in a hotel for our boys is the chance to watch TV, so we turned it on some for them while we were there, but we didn't want them to veg in front of it the whole time. Tobin discovered that a chair pulled up to the sink and a plastic cup provided great entertainment. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS56hfCss9I/AAAAAAAAJE0/H6YCt0cSMS0/s1600/_MG_0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS56hfCss9I/AAAAAAAAJE0/H6YCt0cSMS0/s320/_MG_0004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS56wVZ4odI/AAAAAAAAJE4/KfeHEfaOBac/s1600/_MG_0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS56wVZ4odI/AAAAAAAAJE4/KfeHEfaOBac/s320/_MG_0005.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We had a little refrigerator in our room, and we had taken some food with us so that we wouldn't have the expense of eating out for every meal. Granola bars, nectarines, plums, chips, etc. - basically, just munchy stuff, but stuff that we could fill our tummies with nevertheless. After doing that for a little while though, we decided one evening to go out for a "real" dinner, and we ended up at Bass Pro Shops. It happened to be Shav's birthday, so he celebrated turning one by going to Bass Pro Shops. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS57Pe8styI/AAAAAAAAJE8/6uqMDaesfxg/s1600/_MG_0009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS57Pe8styI/AAAAAAAAJE8/6uqMDaesfxg/s320/_MG_0009.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS57abfZN2I/AAAAAAAAJFA/_bVvmYDMn64/s1600/_MG_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS57abfZN2I/AAAAAAAAJFA/_bVvmYDMn64/s320/_MG_0010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS57k5URkJI/AAAAAAAAJFI/xrOVDuGc6Bk/s1600/_MG_0012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS57k5URkJI/AAAAAAAAJFI/xrOVDuGc6Bk/s320/_MG_0012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS58eN2fDaI/AAAAAAAAJFk/0-UUVx7RxtM/s1600/_MG_0037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS58eN2fDaI/AAAAAAAAJFk/0-UUVx7RxtM/s320/_MG_0037.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS570SzRFLI/AAAAAAAAJFQ/Ee_Iuv4BmAA/s1600/_MG_0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS570SzRFLI/AAAAAAAAJFQ/Ee_Iuv4BmAA/s320/_MG_0024.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I can't remember what we ate, but I do remember that it tasted SO GOOD. After having lived on munchies for a while, that hot meal seemed incredibly delicious. :) I remember that it took a while for the food to come, but there was plenty to look at while we were waiting. David looks enthralled... :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS57-IC9EuI/AAAAAAAAJFU/f_E9ebzbags/s1600/_MG_0025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS57-IC9EuI/AAAAAAAAJFU/f_E9ebzbags/s320/_MG_0025.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>No wonder! This was the view! Lots of interesting things to look at, for sure. :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS58JM4nvdI/AAAAAAAAJFY/ezzHgtS2HMs/s1600/_MG_0026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS58JM4nvdI/AAAAAAAAJFY/ezzHgtS2HMs/s320/_MG_0026.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Family times are a treasure. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS587bc6Z0I/AAAAAAAAJFo/CdrUboxt6vA/s1600/_MG_0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS587bc6Z0I/AAAAAAAAJFo/CdrUboxt6vA/s320/_MG_0030.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS59GfMHxUI/AAAAAAAAJFs/sT9w-Bd59pk/s1600/_MG_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS59GfMHxUI/AAAAAAAAJFs/sT9w-Bd59pk/s320/_MG_0032.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm sure if I woke up Josiah and David right now and asked them what they liked best about our vacation, they would say, "The waterpark!" But close behind that on their list of favorite things from our vacation would be their encounter with this man.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5-6rkBgUI/AAAAAAAAJF4/sLvrfH6x7hk/s1600/_MG_0041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5-6rkBgUI/AAAAAAAAJF4/sLvrfH6x7hk/s320/_MG_0041.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Buddy Davis, the one and only! :) My boys knew of him from videos we'd borrowed from the library, but to be able to see him in person and shake his hand and participate in the kid's classes he led and listen to him perform his music and buy one of his CDs (Josiah saved up money to take along on the trip, and with that money he bought a Buddy Davis CD) and, yes, take this picture with him - well, that was terribly exciting for my boys! During the days we were there, we happened to run into Buddy several times in the hallways of the hotel and conference center; and each time, I could feel the shiver of excitement run through Josiah and David. Each time, Buddy was unfailingly warm and gracious. His kindness was definitely a highlight of the trip for Josiah and David!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5_IqOlvqI/AAAAAAAAJF8/OUon_GnycTo/s1600/_MG_0044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5_IqOlvqI/AAAAAAAAJF8/OUon_GnycTo/s320/_MG_0044.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of all the speakers that we heard at the conference, a few stand out even to this day in my memory. Ken Ham, of course, is very articulate; and I enjoyed his presentations very much. I also enjoyed the lessons given by Voddie Baucham...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5_wWonqcI/AAAAAAAAJGI/QZyy2oWWGMM/s1600/_MG_0048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5_wWonqcI/AAAAAAAAJGI/QZyy2oWWGMM/s320/_MG_0048.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Wow! What a speaker! I had never seen or heard him in real life before, so I didn't really know what I was in for; but I found my attention captivated as soon as he began to speak. And the best part? We didn't simply enjoy his lessons and feel encouraged; we were <b><i>challenged </i></b>by them. That's what we were there for--to learn, to grow, to be challenged--and Voddie did not disappoint. Excellent, excellent, excellent!<br />
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I didn't take a picture of either of these men, but two others were particularly noteworthy in my mind. One was Dr. Jason Lisle and the absolutely amazing facts about space that he shared. Without a doubt, "the heavens declare the glory of God," as Psalm 19 tells us! The other was <a href="http://johngelliott.com/">John Elliott</a>, a musician who led in worship at various times during the concert. The first time we heard him, he taught the audience a song he wrote, "Yet I Will Rejoice." I loved it immediately, had to buy the CD it was on so I could bring it home with me, and have listened to it innumerable times since then. Besides the beauty of the music and the power of the words, it is also so meaningful to me because of all the memories of the conference that are tied up in it for me. All I have to do is hear the beginning of that song, and I'm swept back in time to that conference and the glorious bliss of standing in that huge hall and singing that song with so many others. Incredible! <br />
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Before we went, I was not at all sure how our two little guys would handle long days of meetings so Jeff and I set our expectations low, as far as how many of the sessions we would actually be able to attend, and hoped for the best! As it turned out, we were abundantly blessed by the help given us by the families we traveled with and the many willing hands that would reach out for a squirmy Tobin to entertain or the handles of a stroller that needed pushing so Shav could fall asleep. Those two families have lavished us with helpful service so many times, so I shouldn't have been surprised...but I was. :) I was grateful for sessions where I could actually sit up front, open a notebook to take notes, and pay attention to the speaker--what luxury! :)<br />
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There were other times, however, when it was just easier to park myself in the back of the huge room with Tobin and Shav, so that they (particularly Tobin) would have room to move around and so that I wouldn't have to worry too much if they made a little noise. We had plenty of company in the back of the room; LOTS of other parents were there with their young children, too. :)<br />
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As I look at these pictures six months after the fact, I don't even remember what Tobin was doing in some of them. But I <b><i>do </i></b>remember how much stress it released to allow him this room to move, and I <b><i>do </i></b>think he's completely adorable! :)<br />
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After the conference was over, we (along with many other conference participants) headed north to the Creation Museum. This beautiful sunset sky made the journey achingly gorgeous for a time.<br />
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At the Creation Museum... The topic of creationism is a HUGE one, and I won't even touch on it tonight. But I will say this: we thought the museum was very well done and extremely attractive. Definitely not some dinky little museum with a few bones in it. I'd like to go back someday...when there's not <i><b>quite </b></i>as many people there. ;-) (It was <i><b>very </b></i>crowded the day we were there, because of the conference participants who did like us and visited it after the conference.)<br />
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Friends make anything more fun! :)<br />
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In the interest of keepin' it real, I'll say that the day we visited the museum was a really terrible day for us as a family. Attitudes were horrible, obedience was nowhere to be found, fatigue was at an all-time high, we were just hanging on by a thread! We ended up not spending as much time at the museum as we had originally planned because what we REALLY needed was some rest time back at the hotel. It seemed like on this day, all the excitement of the trip caught up with us, and we just crashed. Plus, it was about a hundred million degrees outside, and our walk through the lovely grounds around the museum was about as relaxing as a stroll on the surface of the sun. ;-)<br />
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Back in the hotel, Tobin, David, and Jeff (and maybe Josiah?) quickly fell asleep; and things were much better after some rest. But during that time of quiet, I had the pleasure of watching Shav, and I smile just remembering this. There was a full-length mirror on the door of the closet, and he had the best time seeing himself in that mirror. You could tell he was simply enthralled by that little boy he kept seeing--the boy who would wave back at him and smile at him and scoot towards him. It was precious. :)<br />
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We wanted to get a group shot of the three families together, but this was the best we could do. Not the greatest pictures (I can hardly find my David--I think he was behind Joelle?), but so special to me because of the memories associated with them and the people in them. These friends are treasures!<br />
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<div>A few other memories float through my head...<br />
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When we were standing in line at the Creation Museum, someone who knew us from when we lived in San Diego recognized us and spoke to us. That was definitely a fun reconnection for us!</div><div><br />
Driving through Virginia and Tennessee and Kentucky, we saw so much beauty! We saw so many open spaces, we saw rivers, we saw butterflies, we saw hills and valleys, we saw trees like a green shag carpet. Sometimes it's good to just get in the car and drive so our eyes can be opened to the overwhelming beauty in the world around us.<br />
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Road trips are always appreciated by me, especially because they give me time to talk with Jeff. That's probably the best part of driving in a car for long distances! :) On our vacation, another thing I did to pass the time in the car was reading aloud a Laura & Mary book (<i>On the Banks of Plum Creek</i>, maybe?). As we made the final, long journey home, I read quite a few chapters and kept everyone's mind diverted from how many hours we'd been in the car. It was really pleasant. It was also really emotional for me! I'm apparently an emotionally unstable person because I've discovered that I CANNOT read those books without crying! I would be reading along and get to some dramatic part and start to really <i><b>feel </b></i>what Ma must have felt...and then my throat would seize up and my eyes would start to water and I'd have to put the book over my face until I could compose myself enough to go on. Josiah and David are used to this, but even still they can't help but roll their eyes slightly as they ask, "Are you going to cry again?" :)</div><div><br />
Even though that vacation was so much fun and so memorable, it was inexpressibly good to be home again. I remember just sitting and looking around at everything. I remember feeling so grateful to be back. I remember Josiah saying that he liked sleeping in his own bed again. :) I remember being glad to sleep in my own bed again, too!! <br />
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Ah, vacations! I'm so grateful that six months ago, we got to have such a wonderful one!</div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-79026982256610946742011-01-14T23:53:00.004-05:002011-01-15T01:50:25.716-05:00There's No One Like You, Tobin Bear<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My dearest Tobin,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"You are so special," I often whisper to you as I kiss you goodnight. "There's no one like you!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I wonder if your newly-turned-three-year-old brain ever thinks, "<b><i>Why </i></b>does she say that so often?" :) Just in case you do have that thought someday, I'll go ahead and answer the question now.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In a nutshell, I hope you never feel lost in the crowd of boys in this Fisher family. To state the obvious, you are not the oldest, nor the youngest. You are one of four boys. When we found out during my pregnancy with you that we would have our third son, we heard the phrase "another boy" a lot (and you can imagine how often we heard that after your little brother Shav was born!). I've <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2009/06/unique.html">previously written</a> about that term: in particular, how I dislike the connotation it gives, and how I delight in the uniqueness inherent in each of our sons (even if we had a dozen, they would be so different from each other!). I won't say all of that again, but I will simply say that in my eyes and in God's, you are not just another Fisher boy. You are <b><i>so </i></b>special. Truly, there is no one like you!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5wtztN_dI/AAAAAAAAJD8/si3Cd3Olbgc/s1600/_MG_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5wtztN_dI/AAAAAAAAJD8/si3Cd3Olbgc/s320/_MG_0032.JPG" width="214" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>~ outside, during one of the warmer days this winter...when the winter temps get into the 50s, it's time to go outside and work off some energy! ~</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Would you like me to tell you some of the things that are uniquely <i><b>you </b></i>at this stage of life? Some of the things that stand out to me when I think about you? Some of the things that I've noticed about you that bring a smile to my face? The things I don't want to forget?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You do? Good! I'll tell you then!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS53jVp9sFI/AAAAAAAAJEo/IkQnuwLcLx8/s1600/_MG_0157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS53jVp9sFI/AAAAAAAAJEo/IkQnuwLcLx8/s320/_MG_0157.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>~ at the end of the <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/11/when-i-said-i-would-try-to-finish-story.html">mini photo shoot</a> for your hot chocolate mug ~ </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You were a "late" walker, of course; and your scooting method of getting around drew a lot of attention. But more subtly, when you started walking and even as a two-year-old, you had such a jaunty walk. Without saying a word, your walk seemed to communicate, "I'm important, and I have something to do and somewhere to go." I haven't seen that certain bounce in your step for a while, but I have fond memories of that jaunty little Tobin walk.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS51lcQVixI/AAAAAAAAJEc/uN0pcerNB18/s1600/_MG_0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS51lcQVixI/AAAAAAAAJEc/uN0pcerNB18/s320/_MG_0030.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>~ when I took <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/12/shavs-in-december-of-2010.html">this picture</a> of Shav the Boy with Shav the Bear, you wanted me to take a picture of you with one of our Christmas teddy bears, too...I was glad to do so...I'm not sure if you even made the connection, but it just so happened that during this picture, in your right hand, you're holding something that {almost} shares your name: Toby the train from Thomas the Tank Engine! ~</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You have a very cute way of being totally serious and earnest as you explain things and make conversation. You'll pause, tip your head to the side, act as if you're searching for the right word. You use filler words, like "and" and "um," as if to keep the attention on you so that you don't lose your audience before you've said all that you want to say. Your speech is getting clearer; but even when I had a difficult time understanding your words, I still felt like you tried very hard to have deep conversations because you were just so serious about the "words" coming out of your mouth!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>More linguistic memories:<br />
~ "No" was an easy word for you, of course. You would draw it out into quite a long word sometimes.<br />
~ For the longest time, when you wanted to communicate "yes," you would say "ah!" In fact, it's only been within the past few days that you've switched it to "yeah," and when you made that switch, it was sudden. It almost seemed like one day it was "ah," and the next it was "yeah."<br />
~ You don't hesitate to say a commanding "c-mere" (for "come here") when you want me to come to you or take a look at something, and sometimes you'll do a little gesture with your hand as well.<br />
~ You used to say "oh, dear!" quite often, but have seemed to drop that habit. What I've noticed you saying a lot recently is "OK?", particularly at the end of sentences. You might say, "Me do it, OK?" or "Me not eat it, OK?"<br />
~ One of the sweetest phrases that was uniquely a Tobin thing was adding an extra "you" after the verbs in sentences. For example, "Daddy loves me" was, coming from your lips, "Daddy love you me," and the request "help me" was "help you me!"<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5xLvIuNpI/AAAAAAAAJEA/D6XY65uqjNM/s1600/_MG_0007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5xLvIuNpI/AAAAAAAAJEA/D6XY65uqjNM/s320/_MG_0007.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>~ on Christmas morning, listening to Daddy read the final portion of Bartholomew's Passage ~</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You're growing up so fast and so much! You're the little guy who used to scoot around and "steal" everybody's shoes, even taking them off people's feet! And then you would put them on your own feet, almost always backwards, right shoe on left foot, and left on right. Somehow that changed, and these days I rarely catch you stealing shoes. :) Also these days, you usually get your shoes on the correct feet!</div><br />
Speaking of growing up and maturing...you and David, in particular, still have frequent moments of pushing each other's buttons and rubbing each other like sandpaper. I am looking forward to the growth that I am <i><b>sure </b></i>will be happening this year in this area! :) But one little technique I've used to help you in this is the phrase, "After you're done with it, may I please have it?" When one of your brothers (most often, David) has something that you think you need right then(!), you are slowly but surely learning to resist the temptation to reach out and snatch it from him, but instead to say, "After you're done with it, may I please have it?" Of course, in your adorable pronunciation in which you frequently leave off the initial consonant sounds, it doesn't come out quite like that; but we know what you mean, and that question goes a long way to preserve peace and harmony between you and your brothers!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5x1ZLuP_I/AAAAAAAAJEI/tuE6MCIt2v4/s1600/_MG_0029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5x1ZLuP_I/AAAAAAAAJEI/tuE6MCIt2v4/s320/_MG_0029.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>~ showing off your new <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/11/when-i-said-i-would-try-to-finish-story.html">hot chocolate mug</a> on Christmas morning ~</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5xmMGObhI/AAAAAAAAJEE/t75Qtq0uqgs/s1600/_MG_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5xmMGObhI/AAAAAAAAJEE/t75Qtq0uqgs/s320/_MG_0032.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
You LOVE to pray! When we sit down to eat lunch and I call on Josiah to pray, your voice pipes up first. Or when we're doing school and read<i> Window on the World </i>and start to pray for whatever country we just read about, you always want to pray first, and I usually have to shush you gently so that your brothers can have their turns to go first! Your prayers are usually very specific, sometimes lengthy, and always full of gratitude. For example, at lunch you might say, "Thank You, God, for food. Thank You, God, for milk. Thank You, God, for cheese. Thank You, God, for apples. Thank You, God, for cups. Amen!" Or at night, you might thank God for your bunk bed, your Bible, your blankets, "Oddy" (your pronunciation of Shavi), me, and other assorted things that come to your mind. One night recently, as you were praying before I tucked you in, David and Josiah were both in the room with us because they had listened to me read a bedtime story to you and were waiting their turn for me to tuck them into their beds. You started praying, and you happened to still be holding your new-to-you-but-really-passed-down-from-your-big-brothers Bible. You started thanking God for "this page," and then as you turned the page, you thanked Him for the next page, and then another page turn and another prayer of gratitude for that page. David said out loud what I was only thinking inside when he exclaimed, "This is going to take all night!" :) <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5zi9x-8DI/AAAAAAAAJEM/oX11_n1h_vk/s1600/_MG_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5zi9x-8DI/AAAAAAAAJEM/oX11_n1h_vk/s320/_MG_0010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>~ eating snow back in December: your favorite part of being out in the snow was eating it, so when we had to come in because I was concerned you were getting too cold, I decided to scoop up a bowl and let you eat it at the table! :)</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5ztMET1WI/AAAAAAAAJEQ/ojh3tK4I0ww/s1600/_MG_0013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5ztMET1WI/AAAAAAAAJEQ/ojh3tK4I0ww/s320/_MG_0013.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
You are very good at falling asleep, and sometimes you even do it in your bed!! ;-) Other times, you end up sleeping on the floor, and that doesn't seem to bother you. Even when you do fall asleep in bed, it's not unusual to find a book or toy on top of you; you don't seem to mind!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5z3CxOn3I/AAAAAAAAJEU/CJkEKyMSht0/s1600/_MG_0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5z3CxOn3I/AAAAAAAAJEU/CJkEKyMSht0/s320/_MG_0024.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Now as a three-year-old, you've almost given up naps (except recently when you've been sick; the past few days you haven't felt well, and you have taken a nap without any protest). That's earlier than I planned for you to make that transition, but not all three-year-old boys go by their mother's plan books. :) The way it happened was like this: I would tuck you in after lunch for a nap, but you would not fall asleep, so you would look at books in bed for a while (you always seem to accumulate quite a stack in your bed!) and then pop out of bed. I finally decided that I wasn't going to fight it so I didn't try to force you to get back in bed. I simply required you to stay in your room and play quietly (although we're still working on training you to do that because you get so tempted to get into the hallway to see what's going on downstairs or to peek into Josiah and David's room to see how the Lego project is going, etc.). I knew at some point, you would transition from having an afternoon nap to having quiet time just like Josiah and David do; I just didn't know it would be this soon! However, I've discovered two significant advantages to this. First, it makes it so much easier for you to go to sleep at night when you haven't had a nap. Bedtime used to be somewhat challenging because you would call out, need a drink, or invent some excuse for continued people contact when you really should have been quietly falling asleep in your bed! But without an afternoon nap, you almost always fall asleep at night very quickly, and that's wonderful. Second, now that you're on the verge of being completely potty-trained, having you awake in the afternoon makes it easy for you to go to the bathroom during those hours if you need to. You have been in underwear during some naps and stayed dry, but of course it's easier to stay dry if you're awake and can go to the bathroom when necessary!<br />
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Speaking of potty training...you were the easiest child we've potty trained so far! Some months ago, when I was still in the stress of adjusting to four young children in the house, I started the potty training process with you; but I quickly realized that stressing out about it and rushing you was just not worth it. So I backed off! In this area, I let you take the lead; and it was such a peaceful, enjoyable process (of course, you had accidents occasionally, but overall you really did great). I could hardly believe it. :) Back in mid-September, we wanted to encourage you along a little bit since the process seemed to be lagging, so we brought out the big guns: M&Ms for incentive. :) One if you peed in the potty, and two if you pooped in the potty. The results were dramatic: the very next day, you had your first really successful day. No accidents at all, and you even wore underwear on an outing to play mini golf, and you stayed dry. Fantastic! And totally worth the M&Ms we've given you during the past four months. :) These days, I only put you in a diaper for nighttime which I don't mind doing. I did notice on the morning of January 9 that your diaper was dry, so maybe I'll get brave and try you in underwear all night long fairly soon. We'll see...I'm not in a rush...I'm just proud of you for how you've taken responsibility in this area and done so well!! :)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS51IseVSLI/AAAAAAAAJEY/r42QjxZ42mM/s1600/_MG_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS51IseVSLI/AAAAAAAAJEY/r42QjxZ42mM/s320/_MG_0001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>~ one of your favorite after-dinner activities is listening to Grandma read you a story (the other one is tickling/wrestling with Daddy!) ~</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here are a few videos to capture the essence of you: you take brushing your teeth very seriously (after you do it a while, I finish up) :)...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzI89BeHHFy0QHbi4JTTHYFGiMsS2yOjUSedkTIlYOF_2ygWUJl3buR_wPPBuCeY8OAXsl3JxSrxXY8LwMtcA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>...and you have a blast playing with your brothers. You're especially quick to learn from and imitate Josiah and David, and you try to keep up with them in their games and activities.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dymUBhj1VyOUW5laqrj9FcFMMTa5mkil_YvThb9ldYN5FEBdZ2AMdbpSedl90lhK2dNFnla3AV8EuC9s3UN8Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
Finally, here's one more oh-so-precious thing about you. When I ask, "What's your name?", your response is always, "Tobin Bear!" The way you pronounce "Tobin" is more like "Bobin," but you always add "Bear" at the end. :)<br />
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Ah, yes, you are my Tobin Bear. One of a kind, formed by God from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, infinitely valuable in His sight and in ours, you are indeed a unique creation. <br />
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I love you more and more as each day passes and as you grow and develop and change and show your personality. I will never stop thanking God for giving me the privilege of being your mommy. You are an amazing gift that God gave me on your birthday!<br />
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Tobin Bear, I adore you!<br />
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With a heart full of love,<br />
MommyDavenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-60668308462449274062011-01-12T22:16:00.002-05:002011-01-13T08:33:23.343-05:00Three Is<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Three is the first birthday that a child understands.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5msHMYtiI/AAAAAAAAJCU/oshzhe4MPS4/s1600/_MG_0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5msHMYtiI/AAAAAAAAJCU/oshzhe4MPS4/s320/_MG_0008.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Three is bundling up in a heavy coat and new boots, and waiting for Daddy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5nBhivPoI/AAAAAAAAJCY/MebGfOWu31c/s1600/_MG_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5nBhivPoI/AAAAAAAAJCY/MebGfOWu31c/s320/_MG_0001.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">Three is the long-awaited day of the first Daddy-Tobin breakfast outing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5nNO1ZGmI/AAAAAAAAJCc/LGXHEJEEmBo/s1600/_MG_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5nNO1ZGmI/AAAAAAAAJCc/LGXHEJEEmBo/s320/_MG_0002.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">Three is riding in the "Beep" (or, as the J-pronouncing population calls it, "Jeep").</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5nbIVqbZI/AAAAAAAAJCg/kGHU2kup1Uc/s1600/_MG_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5nbIVqbZI/AAAAAAAAJCg/kGHU2kup1Uc/s320/_MG_0003.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Three is opening your own gifts.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5orf0X1iI/AAAAAAAAJCs/1T0_qeYE6eg/s1600/_MG_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5orf0X1iI/AAAAAAAAJCs/1T0_qeYE6eg/s320/_MG_0010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Three is a good age to receive<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Boy-Who-Changed-World/dp/1400316057/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1294887564&sr=8-1"> The Boy Who Changed the World.</a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5o289WWKI/AAAAAAAAJCw/xQ6RWxB4xbU/s1600/_MG_0013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5o289WWKI/AAAAAAAAJCw/xQ6RWxB4xbU/s320/_MG_0013.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Three is taking birthdays seriously.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5phAjbGqI/AAAAAAAAJC0/WVf1i4e6s7s/s1600/_MG_0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5phAjbGqI/AAAAAAAAJC0/WVf1i4e6s7s/s320/_MG_0015.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Three is starting to receive an allowance ($.30 per week, $.10 per year of life), and needing a bank in which to put it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5p6lXeMeI/AAAAAAAAJC4/hARqcHdoeb0/s1600/_MG_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5p6lXeMeI/AAAAAAAAJC4/hARqcHdoeb0/s320/_MG_0019.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Three is being watched with interest by your little brother.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5qfoY4KuI/AAAAAAAAJDE/SrQfxzHLijY/s1600/_MG_0022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5qfoY4KuI/AAAAAAAAJDE/SrQfxzHLijY/s320/_MG_0022.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Three is a Hermie & Wormie puzzle.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5q-0bRJ-I/AAAAAAAAJDI/3hOCltkwx-c/s1600/_MG_0025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5q-0bRJ-I/AAAAAAAAJDI/3hOCltkwx-c/s320/_MG_0025.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Three is a snuggly ostrich from Grandpa and Grandma.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5rZwat0pI/AAAAAAAAJDM/pqWZWMnZf38/s1600/_MG_0028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5rZwat0pI/AAAAAAAAJDM/pqWZWMnZf38/s320/_MG_0028.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>Three is needing Daddy to read the cards.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5rvbFTsQI/AAAAAAAAJDQ/tvNUq42r6o8/s1600/_MG_0031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5rvbFTsQI/AAAAAAAAJDQ/tvNUq42r6o8/s320/_MG_0031.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Three is being excited about a <b>big </b>package.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5sFQ32gZI/AAAAAAAAJDc/WF8zh6PI6_w/s1600/_MG_0033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5sFQ32gZI/AAAAAAAAJDc/WF8zh6PI6_w/s320/_MG_0033.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Three is loving Fisher-Price tools.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5sYBnouRI/AAAAAAAAJDg/s1sxLEIDHf0/s1600/_MG_0035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5sYBnouRI/AAAAAAAAJDg/s1sxLEIDHf0/s320/_MG_0035.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Three is bopping your head to a card that sings.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5soVmMoCI/AAAAAAAAJDk/XCB8OBNFnGo/s1600/_MG_0039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5soVmMoCI/AAAAAAAAJDk/XCB8OBNFnGo/s320/_MG_0039.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> Three is chocolate cake with chocolate icing and sprinkles.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5szRTs8-I/AAAAAAAAJDo/sIHfINUzzZY/s1600/_MG_0040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5szRTs8-I/AAAAAAAAJDo/sIHfINUzzZY/s320/_MG_0040.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Three is blowing out the candles all by yourself.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5tY9CYnhI/AAAAAAAAJD0/3fPjbYUqCKI/s1600/_MG_0047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5tY9CYnhI/AAAAAAAAJD0/3fPjbYUqCKI/s320/_MG_0047.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Three is playing with your new toy right away.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5t0xc-WdI/AAAAAAAAJD4/FTBKCn1gtus/s1600/_MG_0053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS5t0xc-WdI/AAAAAAAAJD4/FTBKCn1gtus/s320/_MG_0053.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><b>Three is Tobin!</b><br />
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Three is BIG!<br />
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And one more...<br />
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Three is ADORABLE. ;-)Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-62352437605149965892011-01-11T23:01:00.000-05:002011-01-11T23:01:40.360-05:00The Last Night as a Two-Year-Old<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Once upon a time, I wrote a <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2009/04/last-night-as-three-year-old.html">similar post </a>to this one, only in that case, it was for David on the night before his 4th birthday. Somehow, time rushed on, and here I sit on the eve before Tobin turns 3. He'll never be 2 again. Rather than be melancholy about that, I'm going to celebrate it--rather, celebrate <b><i>him</i></b>. And so, my dear Tobin, this is for you: one last look at you as a two-year-old, right before I tucked you in bed tonight.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS0jhxnPipI/AAAAAAAAJCE/qdKUbTXg_6I/s1600/_MG_0009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS0jhxnPipI/AAAAAAAAJCE/qdKUbTXg_6I/s320/_MG_0009.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's a little strange to look back on <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2007/05/overjoyed.html">this post announcing my pregnancy</a> with you...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS0j0XZupsI/AAAAAAAAJCI/TFZUp7Smxh0/s1600/_MG_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS0j0XZupsI/AAAAAAAAJCI/TFZUp7Smxh0/s320/_MG_0010.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...and <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2008/01/at-last.html">this post announcing your birth</a>...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS0khKtX-3I/AAAAAAAAJCM/kTd-ZepeN0E/s1600/_MG_0026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TS0khKtX-3I/AAAAAAAAJCM/kTd-ZepeN0E/s320/_MG_0026.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...and realize that those posts were about YOU! We barely knew you then--just the tip of the iceberg--but without a doubt, we have delighted, during the past three years, in the gradual unveiling of your personality and all the unique attributes that make you <b><i>you</i></b>. You are so very special, Tobin Bear...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...and so very, <b><i>very </i></b>loved!</div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-77083923374642529962011-01-10T23:57:00.001-05:002011-01-11T00:05:57.775-05:00Sweet HeartsSometimes I worry about the future.<br />
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I realize that that statement does nothing to set me apart as unique...and everything to show that I'm just like almost every other person on this beautiful spinning ball we call Earth. But even though worrying is a common condition for us humans, I believe it's not only wrong, but also completely useless! It doesn't change anything.<br />
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When I think about the days to come, I never worry about money, rarely worry about health, but often feel concern about how my kids will turn out. Not only do I hope they'll be kind and honest and friendly and helpful, I also, to borrow <a href="http://alephomega.com/honeyrun/">Sally's </a>words from a comment on my last post, "want my children there in that spiritual family SO BADLY." I know exactly how she feels.<br />
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At times, I wonder how the teen years will go for us. In the same way that I don't buy into the mindset that the toddler years have to be atrocious, I also don't believe that the teen years have to be horrible. But I do realize that there is a natural, God-ordained, breaking-away process that occurs during those years, and I wonder whether I--and my sons--will be able to handle that with grace and dignity. <br />
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When thoughts of the future crowd into my mind and threaten to tarnish the present, this thought comes back to me over and over and brings comfort to replace my anxiety: <b><i>I still have their hearts.</i></b><br />
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I don't know what the future holds. I don't know how they'll act in 10 years. I don't know what kind of heartbreak may come to me as I watch them make choices to which I'm totally opposed. <br />
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But here and now, on this day in January 2011, I still have their hearts. They are still tender towards me. They are not, however, little robots who obediently do whatever I ask them without ever complaining or arguing. They're human--<i><b>I'm </b></i>human--and unfortunately, sin abounds too often in our household. But even in the midst of that, even when they act selfishly towards their brothers, even when they're slow to obey, even when they have an attitude about doing a chore they dislike...even then, their hearts are still soft.<br />
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I wish I could adequately capture the times when I see this softness demonstrated so beautifully. I try to write down their words; but it's more than words that expresses what I'm trying to communicate--it's their tone of voice, their facial expression, the tilt of their shoulders, the excitement barely contained in their little bodies. I feel my attempts fall pitifully short, but what else do I have to help me remember these times?<br />
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Here are some recent examples of their sweet, sweet hearts:<br />
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David, who is social to the <i>nth </i>degree, was over at a friend's house when a pretty major argument broke out between two sons in that family. Their mother apologized to me later and expressed her regret that my boys had had to see that, but I certainly wasn't casting blame because we have our fair share of rivalry around here for sure! When I was talking about it later with David, he said in a quivering voice, "Maybe for the first time ever, I just wanted to come home." This is the boy who wistfully exclaims whenever we're leaving a place to come home, "I wish I could live here!" He has said that about numerous friends' homes, as well as the park, a play area in the Charlottesville mall, the cousins' house, the playground at the homeschool co-op we used to be a part of, etc. He LOVES being with people, so for him to be so disturbed by the fight he witnessed showed me the soft side of his heart.<br />
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Another example involving David: a while back, he had a dream about heaven, and this is what he told me about the dream. In it, God said he could come back to earth for three days, but David wanted four so he could go to Disney World on one day, Disneyland on another day, and Aunt Lori's for two days. Then he said he wanted one more so he could spend it with me! In the dream, God wasn't wearing the blue "sash" that Jesus is often pictured with, just a white robe; and his voice was booming. David got teary-eyed because he wants us to all go to heaven together, and I was thinking, "Oh, how sweet," then he said that the way that he got killed was by a Jedi! Not so sweet after all. :)<br />
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Heaven is very real to David. In fact, after we almost got into a head-on collision on Switchboard Road back in November, he said, "I almost wish I would have died so that I could have gone to heaven and seen God already." It reminded me of <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2009/11/ttt-sometimes-funny-sometimes-serious.html">this conversation </a>we had back in November of 2009.<br />
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Today David told me that, when he grows up, he wants to live in the little gray house my parents just moved out of. That would be wonderful for him to live there, but I couldn't help but think of another little child who once told her parents she would never leave but would build a house on the top of their hill and stay with them always. That girl, amazingly enough, grew up and decided that she could indeed leave them, drawn by her heart to such far-away places as California and Israel! :) When David strikes out on his own, I won't hold him to the desire he expressed today. :)<br />
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Another way my boys demonstrate their sweet hearts is by public displays of affection...and when it involves my sons and me, I'm a big fan of PDA! :) At concerts, they want to sit close, even sitting on my lap. During one of our potlucks, Josiah paused as he walked by me during the Bible study portion and kissed my cheek. When we're going into his violin lessons, he sometimes reaches for my hand as we cross the street. As long as they want to express their love to me in that way, I'll gladly receive it!<br />
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Josiah sometimes asks questions about the future--his future--and I can tell he's trying to plan out how he's going to live his life. For example, in the middle of a conversation, he might blurt out, "How long can people be engaged?" And he'll have this certain look in his eyes and a tiny smile at the corner of his lips, and I'll know that he's asking because he's thinking about <b><i>her</i></b> ("her" being a wonderful girl that has captured Josiah's eight-year-old heart but who shall remain nameless on this blog). :)<br />
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One day, Josiah and David were talking about their weddings, and the conversation turned to maybe having their brothers be best men/groomsmen in their weddings. They were concerned because they didn't know what girls to choose for bridesmaids! I reassured them that their bride could choose all the girls. :) Josiah was relieved because the girl he wants to marry has sisters that she could ask to be in the wedding!<br />
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On another day, Josiah and David got into some tiff; of course, I don't remember what it was about because such tiffs are rarely about anything truly important! But for some reason, when it was time to apologize and forgive and hug and move on, Josiah was unexpectedly stubborn and would not humble out to open his arms and hug David. I was so surprised and saddened by this hardness of heart that I literally started crying. I know that women can use tears in a manipulative manner, and I do not want to do that with my sons any more than with my husband! So I wasn't trying to put on a show to make Josiah sorry for what he had done; I was just genuinely shocked by his behavior, and my tears fell. <b><i>That </i></b>unlocked the door to his heart, and his whole demeanor changed as his stubbornness melted away and he dissolved into my arms--and soon into his brother's arms for a conciliatory hug. Needless to say, I was relieved that the hardness was so quickly replaced by softness again!<br />
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Last example: our family has been dealing with some sickness recently, and we're such a sharing bunch that we just seem to pass it around to everyone in our household! Fortunately, it's not a throwing-up sickness, for which I'm tremendously grateful; but the fevers, aches, coughing, and runny noses we've had aren't a barrel of laughs either. This morning, David was feeling poorly, so before he even ate breakfast, he wanted me to snuggle with him. I gladly would; but at the time, I had to give Shav his breakfast and do a few other things that I can't think of at the moment. It gladdened my heart to hear Josiah say to David, "I'll snuggle with you!" They did, and then Tobin joined them...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSvUFRgeAiI/AAAAAAAAJB8/agwQvlUccrs/s1600/_MG_0013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSvUFRgeAiI/AAAAAAAAJB8/agwQvlUccrs/s320/_MG_0013.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...and then they clamored for me to put Shav with them. I obliged. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSvUzgdqRlI/AAAAAAAAJCA/TR9jUL6frn4/s1600/_MG_0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSvUzgdqRlI/AAAAAAAAJCA/TR9jUL6frn4/s320/_MG_0015.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In a day that held its customary share of tumultuous moments, this was an oasis of peace; and just like <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke+2:19&version=NIV">Mary</a>, I "treasured up all these things and pondered them in [my] heart."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">These boys are so precious to me; and tonight, what I'm most grateful for is their softness. Sure, I hope they'll grow up to be mighty men, ready to go out and conquer the world; but I also hope that I--and much more importantly, God--will always have their hearts. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">They'll always be my <b><i>sweethearts</i></b>, but beyond that, I hope they'll always keep their <i><b>sweet hearts</b></i>. But for today, all I can do is reject worry and instead take care to notice and appreciate that I still have their hearts. What a gift! What a responsibility.</div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-67087859183620173832011-01-10T01:25:00.002-05:002011-01-10T22:30:16.591-05:00I Don't Take This for Granted {Updated}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><b>* Updated* </b></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>As it turns out, I didn't do a very good job of guessing who had written what notes, particularly in relation to Bibles #10 and #11. Thankfully, my mother sat down with me this evening after supper and set me straight about the real author, so I have now gone back through this post and rewritten some parts to make the necessary corrections. The part that really touched me is that my granddad had written most of the notes, whereas I had assumed that it was my grandma. By the time I was old enough to be thinking deeply about spiritual matters, my granddad had already progressed fairly far in his Alzheimer's Disease; so, even though I have numerous pleasant memories of him, I don't remember many significant spiritual conversations with him. To have this glimpse into his thoughts regarding God, the Bible, and his family makes these pictures even more special to me.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>* Original post*</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is the kind of post which will likely make my mother cry.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is the kind of post which will likely be rather boring to most other readers.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is the kind of post which I will likely look back upon in years to come and be extremely thankful for!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Before Jeff's mother came for her month-long stay last fall, Jeff and I worked extensively in our library, which also functions as our guest room, to get rid of a lot of stuff and organize the remaining items to make it a pleasant, welcoming, functional room for her. We accomplished a lot, but there is still much more to do in that room. However, we were able to meet our goal of getting rid of enough stuff to eliminate some bookshelves that stuck out into the middle of the room. With them gone, the room seemed adequately spacious and neat, though not fancy in the least.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Most of the time, Jeff and I are terrible at getting rid of books. I scan the shelves and find plenty of books we could get rid of, but it just so happens that they all belong to him and he wants to keep them. He looks around and sees numerous books we no longer need, but they are mine and I can't imagine life without them. We make quite a pair. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We're getting better at it though; and even when it's a sacrifice, we're learning to take the plunge and say, "OK, we can give that away. Let someone else be blessed by it."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Like with these Bibles...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh my goodness gracious me! We have shelves full of Bibles; and since both Jeff and I are passionate about the Word of God, we view these books as precious treasures. Nevertheless, it was time to thin the ranks and pass along a few that could be used and loved by someone else.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here are some of the Bibles we got rid of (and let it be known that the act of taking pictures of them and writing about them eased some of the pain of separation!) ... :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bible #1 - the Bible my parents gave me when I was 10 years old</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TMef3yLnGUI/AAAAAAAAIks/M03uYnvjxIs/s1600/_MG_0538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TMef3yLnGUI/AAAAAAAAIks/M03uYnvjxIs/s320/_MG_0538.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TMegENNqrQI/AAAAAAAAIkw/WncrVshigHI/s1600/_MG_0539.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TMegENNqrQI/AAAAAAAAIkw/WncrVshigHI/s320/_MG_0539.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>While memorizing the Sermon on the Mount for school one year, I (over)zealously used my highlighter, which has faded to a dull yellow. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TMegVG3GOGI/AAAAAAAAIk0/ir8uVuEXZQY/s1600/_MG_0540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TMegVG3GOGI/AAAAAAAAIk0/ir8uVuEXZQY/s320/_MG_0540.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Having these tabs along the edge surely made it easier to find each book. The only disadvantage was that it disqualified me from using my own Bible for Mrs. Fawley's Sword Drills. (Not familiar with Sword Drills? It's simply a competition to see who can find a verse first when the teacher calls out a reference. Mrs. Fawley would say, "Romans 8:28!" for example, and the class would scramble to see who could find it first. Lots and lots of fun, and a great learning tool as well!)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TMeggga0Z3I/AAAAAAAAIlA/d9za92lR83s/s1600/_MG_0541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TMeggga0Z3I/AAAAAAAAIlA/d9za92lR83s/s320/_MG_0541.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bible #2 - the Bible I got when I was 13 years old; among other places, I carried this with me to Mexico during a missions trip when I was 14</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfscddMZDI/AAAAAAAAI84/xb8KjZ9Exv4/s1600/_MG_0542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfscddMZDI/AAAAAAAAI84/xb8KjZ9Exv4/s320/_MG_0542.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>After growing up with the good ol' KJV, reading the text of the Good News Bible was quite a switch--a change I enjoyed!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfsoISRhaI/AAAAAAAAI88/3FH24_OwiyU/s1600/_MG_0543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfsoISRhaI/AAAAAAAAI88/3FH24_OwiyU/s320/_MG_0543.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bible #3 - the NIV Study Bible my parents gave me on my 17th birthday</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSftSgZj9CI/AAAAAAAAI9I/M0WXNMmoAqc/s1600/_MG_0544.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSftSgZj9CI/AAAAAAAAI9I/M0WXNMmoAqc/s320/_MG_0544.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSftfM5s0ZI/AAAAAAAAI9M/eBvIPWFXCww/s1600/_MG_0546.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSftfM5s0ZI/AAAAAAAAI9M/eBvIPWFXCww/s320/_MG_0546.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was still using this one a few years later, as evidenced by the note I wrote beside Psalm 45:10-11: "received 22 July 96 during Jeff's first visit." :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSft1KcgXBI/AAAAAAAAI9Y/x19LdeNOdgA/s1600/_MG_0547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSft1KcgXBI/AAAAAAAAI9Y/x19LdeNOdgA/s320/_MG_0547.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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Bible #4 - the Bible I remember Mother using when we were children<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfuHyFC03I/AAAAAAAAI9c/sJLAXq2OLpg/s1600/_MG_0557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfuHyFC03I/AAAAAAAAI9c/sJLAXq2OLpg/s320/_MG_0557.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Much harder than getting rid of my own Bibles was saying farewell to the ones belonging to my parents and other relatives. So I took the easy way out: I photographed them to blog about, then sent them home with my parents so that they could figure out what to do with them! :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfua6Zcz9I/AAAAAAAAI9g/jaaepmT66tE/s1600/_MG_0558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfua6Zcz9I/AAAAAAAAI9g/jaaepmT66tE/s320/_MG_0558.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I didn't know, until I saw the above inscription, that Mother was nine years old when she was baptized.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfusA6rhHI/AAAAAAAAI9k/bBisSB3XHAM/s1600/_MG_0560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfusA6rhHI/AAAAAAAAI9k/bBisSB3XHAM/s320/_MG_0560.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The illustrations in this Bible were woven into the fabric of my mind as a child; and perhaps they, in part, inflamed my imagination enough to make me determined to someday visit Israel.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfu4tw1DcI/AAAAAAAAI9o/zul4hxQFUTI/s1600/_MG_0561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfu4tw1DcI/AAAAAAAAI9o/zul4hxQFUTI/s320/_MG_0561.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>This Bible had occasional notes in the margins, written in my mother's neat writing.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfvFVX_iHI/AAAAAAAAI9s/QcoQhVclYjE/s1600/_MG_0562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfvFVX_iHI/AAAAAAAAI9s/QcoQhVclYjE/s320/_MG_0562.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bible #5 - another Bible I remember my mother using; unfortunately the cover sustained some damage over time</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfvZgGO4tI/AAAAAAAAI9w/TEcASUyKxPA/s1600/_MG_0564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfvZgGO4tI/AAAAAAAAI9w/TEcASUyKxPA/s320/_MG_0564.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>She had passed this one along to me, and I enjoyed using it because of the memories of <i><b>her </b></i>using it. I wonder who gave me these flower petals pressed into it? ;-)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfvkfFt0JI/AAAAAAAAI98/xgbSesLb6Ho/s1600/_MG_0565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfvkfFt0JI/AAAAAAAAI98/xgbSesLb6Ho/s320/_MG_0565.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I can see clearly, in my mind, her sitting with her Bible and a small ruler, carefully underlining verses that particularly stood out to her. It must be the firstborn in her that compelled her to be so neat. :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfvwHMLF7I/AAAAAAAAI-E/bBVx61f7t5I/s1600/_MG_0566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfvwHMLF7I/AAAAAAAAI-E/bBVx61f7t5I/s320/_MG_0566.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bible #6 - this one belonged to my paternal grandmother, given to her in 1923</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfwKCmk6xI/AAAAAAAAI-I/g1vG6KWGAzU/s1600/_MG_0572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfwKCmk6xI/AAAAAAAAI-I/g1vG6KWGAzU/s320/_MG_0572.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm so glad for this inscription inside it that tells the history of it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfwXzIYgHI/AAAAAAAAI-M/uy4LjABrtKo/s1600/_MG_0573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfwXzIYgHI/AAAAAAAAI-M/uy4LjABrtKo/s320/_MG_0573.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bible #7 - this Bible, the edges now crumbling, once belonged to my paternal grandfather</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfwuaPyY7I/AAAAAAAAI-Y/Mtr53tDjgww/s1600/_MG_0574.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfwuaPyY7I/AAAAAAAAI-Y/Mtr53tDjgww/s320/_MG_0574.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Granddad apparently used this in college and after. To think of him as a young man, carrying this Bible around, turning its pages, studying its words - wow, what a treasure!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfw59Fv-OI/AAAAAAAAI-c/rfO6dyNiyrQ/s1600/_MG_0575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfw59Fv-OI/AAAAAAAAI-c/rfO6dyNiyrQ/s320/_MG_0575.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I had never heard of a Precious Promise Bible. Until I saw this one, that is. :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfxGFR1viI/AAAAAAAAI-g/Wa8-dWDsjrA/s1600/_MG_0576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfxGFR1viI/AAAAAAAAI-g/Wa8-dWDsjrA/s320/_MG_0576.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bible #8 - this Bible with an olivewood cover was intriguing; who in my family would have something like that?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfxkGdfG0I/AAAAAAAAI-s/PKmbS20tU1c/s1600/_MG_0597.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfxkGdfG0I/AAAAAAAAI-s/PKmbS20tU1c/s320/_MG_0597.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My maternal grandfather apparently, who received it from his uncle.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfyAcDaWeI/AAAAAAAAI-w/UcJ4fN2nieg/s1600/_MG_0598.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfyAcDaWeI/AAAAAAAAI-w/UcJ4fN2nieg/s320/_MG_0598.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bible #9 - this Bible came in a box</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfyPV3UZAI/AAAAAAAAI-0/dtfEKC1vxtM/s1600/_MG_0588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfyPV3UZAI/AAAAAAAAI-0/dtfEKC1vxtM/s320/_MG_0588.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfyfG5yXNI/AAAAAAAAI_A/0jcfBX3Z3J0/s1600/_MG_0589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfyfG5yXNI/AAAAAAAAI_A/0jcfBX3Z3J0/s320/_MG_0589.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>I soon discovered why: it was falling apart! That's a badge of honor for a Bible, however. No shame there!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfyo87SkZI/AAAAAAAAI_E/RZvRz6YzU3Y/s1600/_MG_0591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfyo87SkZI/AAAAAAAAI_E/RZvRz6YzU3Y/s320/_MG_0591.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I found an interesting piece about the Church of the Brethren ( my grandparents on both sides were members of this denomination). <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfy0bxsVdI/AAAAAAAAI_I/qYEN6rH7pxk/s1600/_MG_0592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfy0bxsVdI/AAAAAAAAI_I/qYEN6rH7pxk/s320/_MG_0592.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But I still didn't know to whom the Bible belonged until I saw this inscription:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfzUKPkZOI/AAAAAAAAI_U/Reoy9cbkbQs/s1600/_MG_0594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfzUKPkZOI/AAAAAAAAI_U/Reoy9cbkbQs/s320/_MG_0594.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I never knew my great-grandfather, but I'm thrilled that he gave this Bible to his daughter, my maternal grandmother. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfziYTsR9I/AAAAAAAAI_Y/bnhemYxk-1w/s1600/_MG_0595.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSfziYTsR9I/AAAAAAAAI_Y/bnhemYxk-1w/s320/_MG_0595.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>This article, "The Bible as Literature," had been tucked into this Bible, and was interesting to read.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bible #10 - this Bible had a plain cover</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjR9hjQh6I/AAAAAAAAJAI/stlag-coJKs/s1600/_MG_0577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjR9hjQh6I/AAAAAAAAJAI/stlag-coJKs/s320/_MG_0577.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>I discovered gems within! Notes my granddad had written...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjSLmeUeeI/AAAAAAAAJAM/-YVwy3nsVS4/s1600/_MG_0579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjSLmeUeeI/AAAAAAAAJAM/-YVwy3nsVS4/s320/_MG_0579.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...about a wide range of topics...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqWmiEZdjI/AAAAAAAAJAc/QBxAY-DktMM/s1600/_MG_0585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqWmiEZdjI/AAAAAAAAJAc/QBxAY-DktMM/s320/_MG_0585.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...even "The warfare of Spirit filled believers..."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqXoRuWwwI/AAAAAAAAJAg/FMbfkd1SMro/s1600/_MG_0586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqXoRuWwwI/AAAAAAAAJAg/FMbfkd1SMro/s320/_MG_0586.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> ...and "Speaking in tongues." I didn't know Granddad thought much about <b><i>those </i></b>topics! :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqZERnZ_8I/AAAAAAAAJAo/utS7zmeuMuQ/s1600/_MG_0587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqZERnZ_8I/AAAAAAAAJAo/utS7zmeuMuQ/s320/_MG_0587.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A list of his grandchildren (and this was especially touching: Premature baby boy Coy and Premature baby girl Coy were also listed)...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjSh6xtJbI/AAAAAAAAJAQ/D4_TRbmtpq4/s1600/_MG_0580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjSh6xtJbI/AAAAAAAAJAQ/D4_TRbmtpq4/s320/_MG_0580.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>A record of births of his immediate family, including two sons-in-law...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjSu9zJ9BI/AAAAAAAAJAU/FT9B_Kjom8I/s1600/_MG_0583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjSu9zJ9BI/AAAAAAAAJAU/FT9B_Kjom8I/s320/_MG_0583.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>A record of marriages, including my uncle who got married in Peru...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjS7Ur0paI/AAAAAAAAJAY/VSNnGnGk91g/s1600/_MG_0584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjS7Ur0paI/AAAAAAAAJAY/VSNnGnGk91g/s320/_MG_0584.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bible #11 - another Bible with cover falling apart</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqaLfFCQmI/AAAAAAAAJAs/ukWMBu5Q6ds/s1600/_MG_0085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqaLfFCQmI/AAAAAAAAJAs/ukWMBu5Q6ds/s320/_MG_0085.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Granddad's name, in very faint letters, on the front.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqafvIEGZI/AAAAAAAAJAw/-S3UEGM2RPs/s1600/_MG_0091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqafvIEGZI/AAAAAAAAJAw/-S3UEGM2RPs/s320/_MG_0091.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The treasure inside this one was all the notes--most written by Granddad, but this one was by Grandma: "The Lord's service a Daily one"...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqaxZP8F9I/AAAAAAAAJA0/6XnOA3tQCAs/s1600/_MG_0075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqaxZP8F9I/AAAAAAAAJA0/6XnOA3tQCAs/s320/_MG_0075.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> I was very interested to see that Granddad wrote a polite note expressing dissatisfaction with the prescribed lessons for Sunday school. In his words, "There is a very great lack of scripture in these quarterlies. If we take the Scripture out of our Sunday School lessons it is like taking the wheat out and leaving the chaff." History repeats itself, they say; and I can hear my husband's voice saying the exact same thing about a year and a half ago!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqa-MJdI0I/AAAAAAAAJA4/6NnWzx6X3QM/s1600/_MG_0077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqa-MJdI0I/AAAAAAAAJA4/6NnWzx6X3QM/s320/_MG_0077.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here's a study he did on "What the Holy Spirit Does for Us"...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqbSAaFvKI/AAAAAAAAJA8/uuwWbJl9wjE/s1600/_MG_0078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqbSAaFvKI/AAAAAAAAJA8/uuwWbJl9wjE/s320/_MG_0078.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> ...one on "Sin"...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqbdQmYpRI/AAAAAAAAJBA/8KoB4rGcjzo/s1600/_MG_0081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqbdQmYpRI/AAAAAAAAJBA/8KoB4rGcjzo/s320/_MG_0081.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> ..."Conversion"...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqbnRz99YI/AAAAAAAAJBE/ektj4IAv87w/s1600/_MG_0082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqbnRz99YI/AAAAAAAAJBE/ektj4IAv87w/s320/_MG_0082.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...and a scrap of paper that simply said, "A PLACE OF PRAYER" and "ABRAHAM BUILT AN ALTER (sic) UNTO GOD."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqb7I4CJrI/AAAAAAAAJBI/Yf2foqXaQa4/s1600/_MG_0083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqb7I4CJrI/AAAAAAAAJBI/Yf2foqXaQa4/s320/_MG_0083.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> Then I found a piece of paper that had "Deuteronomy 6:4-7" at the top, followed by what looked like an announcement (or plea, rather) for more involvement in the Sunday school program, beneficial for both the training of children and adults. Words and sentences were crossed out and rewritten, arrows pointed here and there, phrases were inserted at various places. Did my granddad work and rework this to get the wording just right? Did he stand up and give this announcement? No matter. What really caught my attention and stirred my heart was the last line: "Come and join us in this service for our master and let us prepare for that home above."<br />
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A few days ago, we marked 12 years since my grandmother's passing from this life to the next. How poignant to be reading her words and those of my granddad and touching their Bibles and getting insight into their spiritual heartbeat, even as I remembered her death. Without a doubt, she--and my other family members whose Bibles I held in my hands--did indeed "prepare for that home above." May I faithfully do likewise.<br />
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<br />
And so, back to the title of this post: I Don't Take This for Granted. <b><i>What </i></b>don't I take for granted?<br />
<br />
First of all, the abundance of Bibles we possess, marking our comparative economic prosperity and the ready availability of Bibles here in this country, as well as the amazing freedom we have to own and read and live out the words of the Bible. When I think of what people throughout history have done--and what people in other countries do even now--just to have one Bible, I feel like the most spoiled little girl imaginable. But if it helps, I know I'm blessed, I appreciate it, and<b> I don't take it for granted.</b><br />
<br />
Second, the legacy of faith that has been passed down to me on both my mother and my father's side is unique in today's world and exceedingly valuable. I had nothing to do with it, of course; but how grateful I am that my parents and my grandparents (and going back further than that, although I don't know the specifics) were people of deep faith, who not only owned Bibles, but read them, studied them, pored over their contents, and lived lives guided by them. <br />
<br />
I didn't realize this until I started preparing this post, but I had Bibles from all four grandparents, as well as my mother. (My dad, to be sure, has always read and lived by the Bible, too; I guess he just hasn't given me any of them!) It's not just the Bibles that are precious to me, of course; it's also the times I remember hearing my grandparents read aloud those words and pray from their hearts to the God who wrote those words. How blessed am I!<br />
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I discovered one other gem as I looked through these Bibles: a small booklet from the little country church my maternal grandparents always attended. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqcM2NVOuI/AAAAAAAAJBQ/mCPacMCPkMg/s1600/_MG_0093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqcM2NVOuI/AAAAAAAAJBQ/mCPacMCPkMg/s320/_MG_0093.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> Inside was a list of members, and there in the "W" section, I saw the names of my grandparents, their two children living at home (my mother was already married by this time), as well as brothers, a sister, and other members of the Winters family. <b>This is a picture of legacy.</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqcZn4Z9nI/AAAAAAAAJBY/HXE9xo5FSr0/s1600/_MG_0094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSqcZn4Z9nI/AAAAAAAAJBY/HXE9xo5FSr0/s320/_MG_0094.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is a picture of treasure.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And I am determined to never take this for granted.</div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-21358013572679383792011-01-08T17:09:00.000-05:002011-01-08T17:09:46.691-05:00Where Does a Giraffe Sleep?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjPhoocwEI/AAAAAAAAI_4/3BgQlN-m4mc/s1600/_MG_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjPhoocwEI/AAAAAAAAI_4/3BgQlN-m4mc/s320/_MG_0003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On the floor, of course.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjP3FvGcRI/AAAAAAAAI_8/iJWjDrckl30/s1600/_MG_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjP3FvGcRI/AAAAAAAAI_8/iJWjDrckl30/s320/_MG_0001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">During quiet time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjQCoC9ZLI/AAAAAAAAJAA/nhuHesTNlTA/s1600/_MG_0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjQCoC9ZLI/AAAAAAAAJAA/nhuHesTNlTA/s320/_MG_0005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I couldn't help but think of a few of my favorite verses... :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>He grants sleep to those he loves.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>~ Psalm 127:2b</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjQj0HsJFI/AAAAAAAAJAE/FzkcLmDTzxQ/s1600/_MG_0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSjQj0HsJFI/AAAAAAAAJAE/FzkcLmDTzxQ/s320/_MG_0008.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>In peace I will lie down and sleep, </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>for you alone, Lord,</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>make me dwell in safety.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <i>~ Psalm 4:8</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I don't think any giraffe sleeping in Africa tonight could possibly be more loved than this one!</div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-80930422892734020322011-01-07T23:52:00.001-05:002011-01-08T00:36:58.371-05:00Fair FlashbackI started working on a much {MUCH!} longer post tonight; but as time went by, I began to realize that there was no way I could finish it tonight--that is, not if I expected to get any sleep tonight, too! Maybe I'll get a chance to finish that other post tomorrow, who knows? But in the meantime, while I was looking through my picture folders tonight, I found some photos that made me smile.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">A trio of brothers...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSf1eo2vYAI/AAAAAAAAI_o/VhbjyoE9LH0/s1600/_MG_0027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSf1eo2vYAI/AAAAAAAAI_o/VhbjyoE9LH0/s320/_MG_0027.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> ...wearing shorts and t-shirts in the warm summer air...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSf1lePqhuI/AAAAAAAAI_s/DDC8R_l95xg/s1600/_MG_0029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSf1lePqhuI/AAAAAAAAI_s/DDC8R_l95xg/s320/_MG_0029.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">...enjoying a ride...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSf19jia9QI/AAAAAAAAI_w/rvE1GhvekQg/s1600/_MG_0028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSf19jia9QI/AAAAAAAAI_w/rvE1GhvekQg/s320/_MG_0028.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">...at the Rockingham County Fair!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSf2SvVWq-I/AAAAAAAAI_0/Hiwab9LljoU/s1600/_MG_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSf2SvVWq-I/AAAAAAAAI_0/Hiwab9LljoU/s320/_MG_0032.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Tonight, while winter's chill seems to penetrate even the solid walls of this sturdy house, I can dream of sunshine, heat...and fun at the fair! Do we really have to wait seven whole months until we can go again?? :)Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-65873825256666498622011-01-06T23:51:00.000-05:002011-01-06T23:51:02.803-05:00A Boy and His...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">...brother...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSaZ7HboJXI/AAAAAAAAI80/2OEdpNINv0M/s1600/_MG_0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSaZ7HboJXI/AAAAAAAAI80/2OEdpNINv0M/s320/_MG_0014.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">...and a couple of wooden sword-like sticks...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSaZoUTs50I/AAAAAAAAI8w/3vZDPIeeU1U/s1600/_MG_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSaZoUTs50I/AAAAAAAAI8w/3vZDPIeeU1U/s320/_MG_0019.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">= a spirited, friendly fight and a chance to show off one's valor.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">*****</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A boy and his blocks...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSaZInq4cZI/AAAAAAAAI8o/aBYqdVY7Xc4/s1600/_MG_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSaZInq4cZI/AAAAAAAAI8o/aBYqdVY7Xc4/s320/_MG_0003.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">= hours and hours of fun, imaginative play.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">*****</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A boy and his snowman...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSaYgf64NLI/AAAAAAAAI8c/n0btjiMo-Ss/s1600/_MG_0037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSaYgf64NLI/AAAAAAAAI8c/n0btjiMo-Ss/s320/_MG_0037.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">...even when they haven't seen each other since <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/01/turning-two.html">last year.</a>..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSaYwOQYMKI/AAAAAAAAI8g/wf-O3kiVcp4/s1600/_MG_0040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSaYwOQYMKI/AAAAAAAAI8g/wf-O3kiVcp4/s320/_MG_0040.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">= cuddly hugs and almost more adorable cuteness than I can stand. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">*****</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A boy and his grandpa, having a little man-to-man talk in rocking chairs...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSaX6njQygI/AAAAAAAAI8Y/2HQUwjxK9d8/s1600/_MG_0009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSaX6njQygI/AAAAAAAAI8Y/2HQUwjxK9d8/s320/_MG_0009.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">= <b><i>treasure</i></b>!</div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-55016774672405776942011-01-04T23:43:00.004-05:002011-01-05T13:25:28.844-05:00A Funny Thing Happened Around the Christmas Table<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We always get to celebrate two Christmases. The first occurs on Christmas Day; and besides our little celebration and gift-opening in the morning with just our boys and my parents, we also have the fun of having people over for dinner. Basically, any friends we have that don't have somewhere else to go that day get invited to our house! :) We've done this for years--as young marrieds in California, as expats in Israel, and now here in Virginia--and it's always interesting to see who turns up and what combinations of people end up together around our Christmas table.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The second celebration usually happens a few days later when my brother and his family from Pennsylvania come down, and any other family members that we can rope into coming are here as well. Unfortunately, it's been <i><b>years </b></i>since we had all my family (my parents, siblings, spouses, and kids) together in one spot; in fact, I can't even remember the last time it happened. But we celebrate with whoever can be here, and we remember those who cannot.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Besides being a chance for the adults to converse with each other, our times together are also a hoot for the younger generation. Cousins are just so much fun! It's also precious to see how quickly our boys reconnect with aunts and uncles. I may be a bit biased, but I think my sons are exceptionally warm and affectionate. ;-)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">These pictures that I took during our celebration a week ago are poor technically, but the family togetherness they capture is precious to me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSP3PuGUoxI/AAAAAAAAI7w/notJXUx5R5o/s1600/_MG_0007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSP3PuGUoxI/AAAAAAAAI7w/notJXUx5R5o/s320/_MG_0007.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tobin made himself comfortable...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSP3sR0T5_I/AAAAAAAAI78/-LXzhmlWWKc/s1600/_MG_0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSP3sR0T5_I/AAAAAAAAI78/-LXzhmlWWKc/s320/_MG_0011.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...between his aunt and uncle...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSP4GXW-JXI/AAAAAAAAI8A/oJP970hkWUI/s1600/_MG_0012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSP4GXW-JXI/AAAAAAAAI8A/oJP970hkWUI/s320/_MG_0012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...and looked at all the pictures in the photo book they made for my parents...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSP4mcUI11I/AAAAAAAAI8E/PsCgbvihXsw/s1600/_MG_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSP4mcUI11I/AAAAAAAAI8E/PsCgbvihXsw/s320/_MG_0019.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...before my parents had a chance to look at it!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSP47Vt3nLI/AAAAAAAAI8I/NPqX_1-6ww0/s1600/_MG_0023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSP47Vt3nLI/AAAAAAAAI8I/NPqX_1-6ww0/s320/_MG_0023.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You woulda thought <b><i>he </i></b>owned that thing! :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Anyway, what I was thinking about, when I started this post, is that as we were sitting around the stretched-out table eating, Josiah took a bite of something, felt something hard in his mouth, and discovered that one of his teeth had fallen out!!! It had been loose for a little while, but not a very long time; and as far as we knew, it wasn't exceptionally loose. But somehow he happened to bite down on something just right, and it knocked the tooth clean out! That was the easiest tooth removal we've had so far. ;-)<br />
<br />
We *always* have to take a cousin picture.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSQAhCpUFwI/AAAAAAAAI8M/QAfd8PhQ86I/s1600/_MG_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSQAhCpUFwI/AAAAAAAAI8M/QAfd8PhQ86I/s320/_MG_0019.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>A <i>few </i>things have changed since <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2007/04/cousins-then-and-now.html">these cousin pictures</a> from years ago. :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSQBP372VmI/AAAAAAAAI8Q/bYr8dZ2UmqA/s1600/_MG_0016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSQBP372VmI/AAAAAAAAI8Q/bYr8dZ2UmqA/s320/_MG_0016.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Right before the cousins started their trip back to PA, my David shouted, "We have to take a picture of me and Uncle David!" He was right; <b><i>we have to</i></b>. <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2007/04/davids-then-and-now.html">Always</a>. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSQB1ndulPI/AAAAAAAAI8U/GL20pn9aW0E/s1600/_MG_0027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TSQB1ndulPI/AAAAAAAAI8U/GL20pn9aW0E/s320/_MG_0027.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>Some things never change. And you know, <b><i>we really wouldn't want them to.</i></b>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-24319319357627096302011-01-03T22:35:00.001-05:002011-01-04T14:44:34.416-05:00The Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing BUTT the TruthConversation of the day:<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>Me (to one of my sons, who shall remain nameless to protect the <s>innocent</s> guilty): <i>Did you sit on your brother's head?</i></div><div><br />
</div><div>My son, emphatically: <i>No! </i> </div><div><br />
</div><div>My son, a little more quietly: <i>But I did touch him.</i></div><div><br />
</div><div>Me, suspiciously: <i>With what part of your body did you touch him?</i></div><div><br />
</div><div>My son, even more quietly: <i>My butt.</i></div><div><br />
</div><div>Aha! <b><i>That</i></b>, my dear boy, would constitute "sitting." And so, for your creative reinterpretation of the truth (a.k.a. LIE), you are hereby sentenced to two days without computer privileges. </div><div><br />
</div><div>It looks like we need to learn a lesson from the court of law so we can all pledge to tell "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So help me, God!"</div><div><br />
</div><div>That last part is especially important: <b>so help <i>us</i>, God!</b></div><div><br />
</div><div>Court adjourned.</div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-74355244891255710922011-01-02T23:56:00.000-05:002011-01-02T23:59:50.804-05:00Will Stand for Applause<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">With only a few weeks to go until Shav hits the 18 month mark (the age at which my boys "normally" take their first steps), he's progressing right along, perfectly on schedule. Who cares that all the child development books say he's late?! :) He's an expert at cruising, but his big, new accomplishment recently is standing up by himself, without pulling up on something. See?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzRBxk3OrIZ_Wcf7HNsXw7M1RmYQMpdFNIIR1xiAZZ1dDePEeZFKlnYTI0Iu5iu2kZ-UhFsEouSnBnXAJP_nw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>It's amazing what <s>a person</s> Shav will do for a little public acclamation!<br />
<br />
And speaking of Shav, I was really hoping that this would be the year in which his sleep habits would show marked improvement. I was looking forward to many nights of peaceful, all-night-long sleep. <br />
<br />
So far, we're 0 for 3.<br />
<br />
<i>Sigh</i>.<br />
<br />
I love him anyway. ;-)Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-90600053721666845162011-01-01T23:58:00.000-05:002011-01-01T23:58:43.105-05:00With a Bang and a Song<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's a good way to start a year: staying up until midnight and enjoying the excitement that fact--<b><i>midnight</i></b>!--brings to the two oldest boys (the two youngest are sound asleep in their beds), playing a game of Skip-Bo with them during the last minutes of 2010, waking up Daddy who's sleeping on the couch, so that we can go outside on the patio and...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...celebrate with firecrackers and sparklers...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwwr0AWHAJ4LclKYOgJu9ZqXw0lvYKRbszf7RpUJNhxmS230YbiS38DsHFkisoM8yA212cF5y__dJbQpWnFrg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">...and bang pots and pans! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzb5Fx8uXSBgmIuzskFYDeSTtZwEiXiVXOl1Qn0fG9ic8fLTMpSKQCkS--GUPtHMaLfj9voNHywikZ_d11xIA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Even our rooster got into the act and started crowing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Silly rooster. ;-)</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And then, after some hours of sleep, a day of being at home as a family, working together on various projects (Jeff did garden stuff, the big boys helped to carry wood, Tobin climbed the tall mulch pile behind our woodshed, I helped my mother organize her new kitchen). Then quiet time in the afternoon, for most of the members of the family. I spent my quiet time with my hands in the dishpan, which was lovely since not only did I bring order and cleanliness to my kitchen, I also got the chance to mull over my one resolution for this year. After that, I sat on the living room floor with Shav; and, as he climbed around me and on me, I finished organizing my file box. To completely finish a project is such a wonderful feeling!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Supper this evening was provided by Jeff: ground bear and deer meat, given to us by one of Jeff's customers. Jeff formed it into hamburger patties and grilled them, and I didn't have to do much for dinner! But that leads to a question: if they're made out of bear and deer meat, are they still called hamburgers? ;-)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The crowning touch (and, oh, what a crown!) on this superb day was the annual Harmonia Sacra singing at Weavers Mennonite Church. I've<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2009/01/when-i-die.html"> written before </a>about <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2008/01/oh-that-will-be-joyful.html">these </a>wonderful <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harmonia_Sacra">sings</a>, but I know there's no way to adequately portray in words the joy I gain from participating in one of these. I can't help but beam as I sing, I smile as I get up to take a turn in leading, I float home in a cloud of happiness, I gush about it to Jeff (who kindly stays home with the boys so I can go...although tonight, one of my sons chose to go with me...at the end of the video below, you'll see his face and know which one it was)...I'm energized by the whole experience, and it always takes me a while to unwind after it. :) New Year's Day wouldn't be the same without the delightful tradition of attending that sing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Amidst the singing tonight, I paused briefly to snatch a little video of it. It goes without saying that the video doesn't do it justice. I really think you'd have to be there to experience the beauty and the majesty and the glory of the voices lifted in praise, using the same words and tunes that have been used since 1832. But here's a snippet of "Hosanna." I wish I was still there, singing it again and again...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxGlHwm5t8leQiin_COZ0yybL3hGFvQifvlWYp35MlnjqHOuvN8Ae-9hWOg8WO97DlA7La9TjsRW2fcw-8SaQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
Hello, 2011; you are most welcome. I'm so glad you're here!Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-56199630244402561412010-12-31T13:52:00.001-05:002010-12-31T13:55:59.371-05:00The Year Gone By<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In my very <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/01/looking-back.html">first post</a> of this year, I reflected back on 2009 and included the header pictures I used each month. I've enjoyed looking back on that post so much that it wasn't hard to decide to do it again for 2010. (And a big THANK YOU to my <i>uber </i>talented friend <a href="http://lisamichelephoto.blogspot.com/">Lisa </a>who originally inspired me to change my header and blog look monthly!) :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">~ <a href="http://thecutestblogontheblock.com/free/free-backgrounds/item/1287/asInline.html">Wild and Sweet Christmas </a>by The Cutest Blog on the Block</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TR4g7LMp3WI/AAAAAAAAI7k/6iTjH3T8oSU/s1600/Fullscreen+capture+12312010+12358+PM.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TR4g7LMp3WI/AAAAAAAAI7k/6iTjH3T8oSU/s320/Fullscreen+capture+12312010+12358+PM.bmp" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">~ <a href="http://thecutestblogontheblock.com/free/free-backgrounds/item/1225/asInline.html">Fresh Fall</a> by The Cutest Blog on the Block</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TPXMHV5Bd_I/AAAAAAAAI1I/MVuBCNdV-yU/s1600/Fullscreen+capture+11302010+111439+PM.bmp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TPXMHV5Bd_I/AAAAAAAAI1I/MVuBCNdV-yU/s320/Fullscreen+capture+11302010+111439+PM.bmp.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">~ <a href="http://thecutestblogontheblock.com/free/free-backgrounds/item/1229/asInline.html">Classic Candies </a>by The Cutest Blog on the Block</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TMzVrgBnJSI/AAAAAAAAIlw/vp-uAHbJTs0/s1600/D+-+October+10+Blog.bmp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TMzVrgBnJSI/AAAAAAAAIlw/vp-uAHbJTs0/s320/D+-+October+10+Blog.bmp.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">~ <a href="http://daisygraydesign.blogspot.com/2009/09/free-blogger-background.html">Back to School Primitive Fall Background</a> by Daisy Gray Design</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TKVUJP4Ms0I/AAAAAAAAIZ4/Yj06SK8v0Hk/s1600/Fullscreen+capture+9302010+112122+PM.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TKVUJP4Ms0I/AAAAAAAAIZ4/Yj06SK8v0Hk/s320/Fullscreen+capture+9302010+112122+PM.bmp" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">~ from <a href="http://hotbliggityblog.com/backgrounds.php?querystring=paisley&limit=&searchtag=true">Hot Bliggity Blog:</a> (which apparently doesn't name their designs, so I can't link to it directly, but as of this writing, the 7th background down when using the search word "paisley")</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/THxaIFuJqCI/AAAAAAAAIKM/kCF8kz_work/s1600/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+Not+Your+Average+Midlife+Crisis+8302010+91242+PM.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/THxaIFuJqCI/AAAAAAAAIKM/kCF8kz_work/s320/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+Not+Your+Average+Midlife+Crisis+8302010+91242+PM.bmp" /></a></div><br />
~<a href="http://aquapoppydesigns2.blogspot.com/2009/06/red-white-and-blue.html"> Red, White, and Blue</a> (the top one) by Aqua Poppy Designs</div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TFTd1zk_x3I/AAAAAAAAH-A/FbzhDJN0-BM/s1600/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+You+Wasted+a+Perfectly+Good+Cake...+7312010+103559+PM.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500264961374406514" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TFTd1zk_x3I/AAAAAAAAH-A/FbzhDJN0-BM/s320/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+You+Wasted+a+Perfectly+Good+Cake...+7312010+103559+PM.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 162px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div>~ <a href="http://hotbliggityblog.com/index.php">Hot Bliggity Blog</a> (again, I can't link to this background exactly; but <a href="http://hotbliggityblog.com/backgrounds.php?querystring=charcoal&limit=&searchtag=true">this link</a> brings up only a few options, and it's obvious which one I used)</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TBbgwV8ELSI/AAAAAAAAHk8/hlFrKqMR1ME/s1600/Fullscreen+capture+6142010+100657+PM.bmp.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482816717497576738" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TBbgwV8ELSI/AAAAAAAAHk8/hlFrKqMR1ME/s320/Fullscreen+capture+6142010+100657+PM.bmp.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 165px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div>~ <a href="http://daisygraydesign.blogspot.com/2009/07/free-blogger-background_09.html">Watermelon and Ants!</a> by Daisy Gray Design</div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/S-jMJ8QB0nI/AAAAAAAAHSA/jx57NlKOCag/s1600/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+5102010+111546+PM.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469846218605711986" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/S-jMJ8QB0nI/AAAAAAAAHSA/jx57NlKOCag/s320/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+5102010+111546+PM.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 211px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div>~ <a href="http://www.thecutestblogontheblock.com/free/free-backgrounds/item/552/asInline.html">Bubbles n Daises</a> by The Cutest Blog on the Block</div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/S9zchvlm5gI/AAAAAAAAHLQ/08kOADdj7cA/s1600/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+He+Says+He+Wants+to+Garden+4262010+115713+AM.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466486519988938242" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/S9zchvlm5gI/AAAAAAAAHLQ/08kOADdj7cA/s320/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+He+Says+He+Wants+to+Garden+4262010+115713+AM.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 162px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div>~ <a href="http://blogdesignsbydani.blogspot.com/2010/02/valentines-gift.html">Valentine's Gift</a> by Blog Designs by Dani</div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/S5qq-G8DoVI/AAAAAAAAGzQ/z5VaMoTLqKQ/s1600-h/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+Just+a+Piece+of+Blue+Cotton+3122010+35636+PM.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447854683249156434" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/S5qq-G8DoVI/AAAAAAAAGzQ/z5VaMoTLqKQ/s320/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+Just+a+Piece+of+Blue+Cotton+3122010+35636+PM.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 162px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">~ <a href="http://www.thecutestblogontheblock.com/free/free-backgrounds/item/113/asInline.html">Sweetheart</a> by The Cutest Blog on the Block</div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/S4yL-CiVEBI/AAAAAAAAGso/zP0urOccqC0/s1600-h/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+I+Love+a+Husband+Who...+312010+105303+PM.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443879947533094930" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/S4yL-CiVEBI/AAAAAAAAGso/zP0urOccqC0/s320/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+I+Love+a+Husband+Who...+312010+105303+PM.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 162px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div>~ <a href="http://simplyblogitbackgrounds.blogspot.com/2009/12/keeping-warm.html">Keeping Warm!</a> by Simply Blog It Backgrounds</div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/S2X4HMc1fjI/AAAAAAAAGjM/pCByaHvhO1s/s1600-h/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+In+Moments+Like+These+1162010+110211+PM.bmp" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433021327977315890" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/S2X4HMc1fjI/AAAAAAAAGjM/pCByaHvhO1s/s320/Life+on+Sylvan+Drive+In+Moments+Like+These+1162010+110211+PM.bmp" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 162px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div>I'm trying to decide which one is my favorite, but I just can't. ;-)<br />
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<br />
Another way to recap the year is to scan back through the year's posts and make a list of some of my favorite posts--and maybe these are some of yours too, judging by the feedback I received! I was originally going to make a Top Ten list, but then I got on a roll and couldn't stop and had to stretch it to 25. *sheepish grin*<br />
<br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/08/not-your-average-midlife-crisis.html">Not Your Average Midlife Crisis </a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-kinda-sorta-did-photo-shoot.html">I Kinda Sorta Did a Photo Shoot </a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/08/im-going-to-have-to-fire-my-sous-chef.html">I'm Going to Have to Fire My Sous Chef </a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/03/power-of-prayer.html">The Power of Prayer </a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-love-husband-who.html">I Love a Husband Who...</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/05/you-might-be-mother-of-boys-if.html">You Might Be a Mother of Boys If...</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/09/and-then-my-bubble-went-pop.html">And Then My Bubble Went POP!</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/03/just-piece-of-blue-cotton.html">Just a Piece of Blue Cotton </a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-is-crazy-ridiculous-horrible.html">This Is Crazy, Ridiculous, Horrible...</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/01/living-in-lap-of-luxury.html">Living in the Lap of Luxury</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/06/ttt-women-eggs-mammals-oh-my.html">TTT - Women, Eggs, Mammals, Oh My!</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-try-not-to-let-schooling-get-in-way.html">I Try Not to Let Schooling Get in the Way of Learning</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/06/13-years-ago.html">13 Years Ago... </a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/05/second-grade-somehow.html">Second Grade - Somehow </a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/02/ttt-zs-bless-you-boxes-and-milk-supply.html">TTT - Z's, Bless-You Boxes, and Milk Supply - Oh, My!</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/05/kind-of-mom-who.html">The Kind of Mom Who...</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/04/gum-chewer.html">The Gum-Chewer</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/03/you-just-never-know.html">You Just Never Know </a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/01/professor.html">The Professor</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-shav-thinks-of-grass.html">What Shav Thinks of Grass</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/06/nicest-compliment.html">The Nicest Compliment </a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/06/ttt-christians-in-bible.html">TTT - Christians in the Bible? </a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/07/you-wasted-perfectly-good-cake.html">You Wasted a Perfectly Good Cake...</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/04/little-trying-to-be-big.html">Little Trying to Be Big</a><br />
<a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/06/cat-and-his-boys.html">The Cat and His Boy(s)</a><br />
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As the year ends, here is a bit of history that I've been pondering through the past month and a half...and that I hope to continue to keep in mind as 2011 begins. To me, the over-arching lesson of this is NEVER DOUBT THAT GOD IS INVOLVED. Even though I'm proud of my Southern heritage and have been known to occasionally joke that "the South will rise again!", I'm truly grateful, of course, that the North won the Civil War. :) Only God knows how the outcome might have been different, if that rifle had not been stolen. Without a doubt, God works in matters large and small to accomplish His purposes.</div><br />
<i>From The Shenandoah Journal, November 16-22, 2010...</i><br />
<br />
<i>The Gun That Could Have Changed History</i><br />
<i>by <a href="http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=316182772621">Alan Cramer</a></i><br />
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<i>One of the first repeating rifles ever built in the United States was created near Stokesville. William Sheffer (or Shaffer, as it is sometimes spelled) was a German-speaking early settler of North River Gap. he was a respected blacksmith and gunsmith. Both he and his brother Abraham were exempted from fighting in the Civil War to build wagons and guns for the Confederacy.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Around 1860, Sheffer invented the rifle that would later become known as the "Virginia Pacificator." One of the first of its kind, the 48-shot repeating rifle had eight magazine tubes that held six rounds each.</i><br />
<br />
<i>As the story goes, the rifle was stolen as Sheffer was on his way to the patent office in Washington, DC. A patent was eventually secured, but curiously, the rifle was never mass-produced.</i><br />
<br />
<i>If the rifle had been used during the war, it could have changed the course of history. The gun is now in the Virginia Historical Society Museum in Richmond.</i><br />
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This morning, I read this prayer by Amy Carmichael in a devotional by Elisabeth Elliot. Today and every day in the new year, I'll cling to the knowledge that God knows my children better than I do, is more powerful than me to guide and protect them, and loves them with a bigger, stronger love than I can even imagine.<br />
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<i>Father, hear us, we are praying,</i><br />
<i> Hear the words our hearts are saying,</i><br />
<i>We are praying for our children.</i><br />
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<i>Keep them from the powers of evil,</i><br />
<i>From the secret, hidden peril,</i><br />
<i>From the whirlpool that would suck them,</i><br />
<i>From the treacherous quicksand pluck them,</i><br />
<i>Holy Father, save our children.</i><br />
<br />
<i>From the worldling's hollow gladness,</i><br />
<i>From the sting of faithless sadness,</i><br />
<i>Through life's troubled waters steer them,</i><br />
<i>Through life's bitter battle cheer them,</i><br />
<i>Father, Father, be Thou near them.</i><br />
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<i>Read the language of our longing,</i><br />
<i>Read the wordless pleadings thronging,</i><br />
<i>Holy Father, for our children.</i><br />
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<i>And wherever they may bide,</i><br />
<i>Lead them Home at eventide.</i><br />
~ Amy Carmichael<br />
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She, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amy_Carmichael">the giver of hope to India's children</a>, had quite a way with words. Those phrases -<i> "the sting of faithless sadness" - "read the language of our longing" </i>- oh, they're powerful. I'm always grateful to discover a thinker and writer who expresses better than I can what I'm feeling in my heart.<br />
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To end beautiful 2010, here is one of the sweetest sights and sounds on earth to my blinded-by-mother-love eyes and ears: my two youngest sons, clad in snuggly sleepers, playing happily together this morning in a Bumper Chair game they invented. If I can ignore the baskets of laundry to be folded that appear in the video and focus instead on their bubbly laughter and infectious smiles, I'll have grasped what's really important. I am blessed beyond words...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwdFlC8IPHToQ9ksKh3Gz_ZdEoMHT3IUb5pM7qtocAoDq_-bKfA7NvEmYfnFv3cRRraoftF2dKLM0759qbOyQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-64589770492190588652010-12-30T23:51:00.000-05:002010-12-31T00:29:02.966-05:00Eleven TidbitsIf I could sum up today in one word, it would be LAZY. With our guests gone and the first big part of my parents' move over, I felt all entertained-out and could hardly summon up the motivation to do anything. So I did very little - almost nothing, really. I didn't even cook dinner, because it was Jeff's annual end-of-the-year barbershop dinner out, at Wood Grill Buffet (at which the boys behaved beautifully and I had a lovely time chatting with Jenny). I wouldn't want every day to be a lazy day (and no one else in my family would want me to have lazy days all the time either!); but for today, it was SO nice to relax and not worry about accomplishing much.<br />
<br />
I did, however, start a project that I'd been wanting to do for a while but had pushed aside until a rainy day, so to speak. (It did, as a matter of fact, rain a little bit here today, so I happened to choose an appropriate day for this rainy day project.) :) I have a basket-like file box, with hanging file folders in it. Although some parts of it were in fairly good order, others were not; and it needed a good going-over to get the whole thing organized. It was one of those things that I thought "this is going to take a LONG time" and "I'd better do this when I have some alone time so I won't be distracted by the boys." But as it turns out, I was able to nearly finish the project today; and much of my time spent working on it was also spent in the company of one or more boys. Even Shav cooperated wonderfully, and played peacefully by himself in the living room, occasionally scooting over to me to see what was going on. I would hand him papers to be discarded, and sometimes he would crumple them and enjoy the noise, and other times, he would scoot over to the little trashcan and put the papers in it. So helpful. :)<br />
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<br />
Speaking of Shav putting things in the trashcan...<br />
<br />
We use that little trashcan, during cold weather, to collect paper and burnable trash for kindling for the woodstove. Shav enjoys making random deposits in it; and when I pull out the trash to burn, I've learned to always check through it to see what he might have put in it. These are some of the items I've found so far this fall and winter:<br />
~ a spoon<br />
~ Christmas ornaments<br />
~ Scoop, the yellow tractor from Bob the Builder<br />
~ a wooden spatula<br />
~ bullet shells (the big boys like to play with old bullet shells, setting them up on end like toy soldiers)<br />
~ a stencil<br />
~ a large sieve<br />
At least the sieve was easy to spot when I lifted the lid of the trashcan. :)<br />
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As I went through my file folders today, I found the folders I have for Medical Records for each of us. One thing stood out to me about them: our folders for the boys are so thin. I discovered a new cause for gratitude...thank You, God, that my boys have been so healthy, and consequently, their folders are so thin!<br />
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We received news a few days ago that dear Helen Rae, the mother of long-time family friend Mary Faith, passed away. She was quite old and had been losing the battle with dementia for some years, so it was one of those deaths that is, in many ways, a relief. But still, grief lingers. <br />
<br />
It was poignant tonight to discover in my Wedding folder, a letter Helen Rae, always gracious, had sent to my parents shortly after my wedding. It said in part:<br />
<blockquote><i>What beautiful memories you have to treasure in your heart of your lovely Davene, from the time she was conceived until now. And of course, it doesn't stop here! Your joys are multiplied. I'm praying that Jeff will be as sensitive to your needs and Davene's, as Jerry has been to ours. That, indeed, is expecting a lot! </i></blockquote><blockquote><i>I have never seen lovelier invitations. I almost feel that I have been a part of it all. Mary Faith filled me in on all the details which you had planned so carefully. How dear that your mother was able to attend.</i></blockquote>It's apparent that her prayers for Jeff to be sensitive to my needs and my parents' have been abundantly answered!<br />
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Once upon a time, I wrote a post of <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/08/confessions.html">confessions</a>. It's time to add another one.<br />
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I know I'm supposed to brown meat before I cook it in the crockpot. Roasts, Swiss steak, pork chops, whatever - they're all supposed to be browned on the stove first because it makes the flavor richer (or something). But I don't do it. Nope, I use the crockpot so I can be a lazy cook; and the thought of browning the meat first (and getting a frying pan all dirty and greasy, making an extra dish for me to wash) defeats the purpose in my opinion. Maybe the flavor suffers a tiny bit; but really, if you did a blind taste test, do you think you'd be able to figure out which roast was browned and which wasn't? I think making a great-tasting roast has more to do with the seasonings you put on it. That's just my {humble, of course} opinion. :)<br />
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How do people find your blog? <br />
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Every once in a while, various bloggers that I keep up with will mention what searches brought people to them; and it's always interesting and frequently hilarious to read. Now that Blogger has added a handy-dandy stats button, I occasionally look at mine and am able to see how people found me. Most are very straightforward, but a few make me grin and/or shake my head in puzzlement. Searches like these actual ones I've seen recently...<br />
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~ around my bubble<br />
~ mother in law visits are too long <i>(for the record, I don't think they are, but I can see why a search for that would lead to my blog)</i><br />
~ maternity shop tel aviv<br />
~ i'll go to bed now<br />
~ avniel pronunciation<br />
~ a thank you note from god to a grieving fisherman family<br />
~ geriatric story nursing home story oh holy night<br />
~ tomcat holy ghost <i>(really? what in the world? I actually had to look this one up to discover what it led to...sure enough, it landed on <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2010/10/ttt-holy-ghost-tomcat-and-misplaced.html">this post</a>...oh, yeah, I forgot about that)</i><br />
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This is the way Jeff and I show love to each other these days: whoever goes up to bed first turns on the other's electric blanket. ;-) It's so comforting to crawl into a nice warm bed, rather than the sheets which always used to feel frigid on winter nights.<br />
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Why does it seem like I'm always the one to discover that there's not much toilet paper left on the roll? Occasionally when I spot a roll that looks close to the end, I'll think, "Oh, I'll pull out a fresh roll later." But I've learned that it's best to do it <b><i>right then,</i></b> because if not, inevitably I will be the one left in an uncomfortable predicament. Why does that happen to me? Maybe the system of justice in the universe demands that my procrastination will have negative consequences. Or maybe it's just because I'm the only female in this household, so maybe I use the most toilet paper. ;-)<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><i>Do not depend on the hope of results... You may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results, but on the value, the rightness, the truth of the work itself.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">~ Thomas Merton</div><br />
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Tomorrow, if I happen to have more energy than today, I think we'll start taking down our Christmas decorations. The boys want us to leave our tree up indefinitely, but that idea has been vetoed. I love their enthusiasm though. :) Doesn't it seem like it was the beginning of December just the other day and we were putting our decorations up? And now we're taking them down already! How does that happen?! :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TQWm6VxKUdI/AAAAAAAAI4c/grvujrlMiVY/s1600/_MG_0056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TQWm6VxKUdI/AAAAAAAAI4c/grvujrlMiVY/s320/_MG_0056.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>The chain of cause and effect which makes up human life, is bisected at every point by a vertical line relating us and all we do to God.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">~ Baron Von Hugel,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">quoted in an Elisabeth Elliott devotional</div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-34101616881744379322010-12-29T23:48:00.001-05:002010-12-30T00:18:55.072-05:00Let the Moving Begin!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Today was the first official day of my parents' move from their "old" house into Dad's-old-office-turned-residence. We refer to the two buildings in grand terms: The East House is their old one, and The West House is what they're moving into. In the West House...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There were beautiful empty spaces, just begging for something to fill them. (And we did.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwOjG8yTEI/AAAAAAAAI7A/N95FJA2kS6w/s1600/_MG_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwOjG8yTEI/AAAAAAAAI7A/N95FJA2kS6w/s320/_MG_0003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">New hardwood floors waiting to be scratched...<i>er</i>...I mean...<i>um</i>...carefully walked on and furniture set gently upon. ;-)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwOwaqSfBI/AAAAAAAAI7E/cy_n44kDNKw/s1600/_MG_0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwOwaqSfBI/AAAAAAAAI7E/cy_n44kDNKw/s320/_MG_0008.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Jeff and my brother David moved the beds over to the new house.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwPG9Q46oI/AAAAAAAAI7I/7tNb0xCckwE/s1600/_MG_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwPG9Q46oI/AAAAAAAAI7I/7tNb0xCckwE/s320/_MG_0001.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
David also wielded a mean feather duster while Lori showed off her muscles by carrying dresser drawers. :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwPOm3k8mI/AAAAAAAAI7M/wxUjP4rmjBs/s1600/_MG_0009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwPOm3k8mI/AAAAAAAAI7M/wxUjP4rmjBs/s320/_MG_0009.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My mother, who LIKES detail work (bless her heart!), focused on cleaning the ancient refrigerator that they moved over from their shed. I'm not sure, but I think the frig might be older than I am. But being the penny-pinchers that they are (that's a compliment!), they chose to continue to use it, rather than buy a new one.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwPhjI5CPI/AAAAAAAAI7Q/_CjCyb2FmzE/s1600/_MG_0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwPhjI5CPI/AAAAAAAAI7Q/_CjCyb2FmzE/s320/_MG_0004.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
Mother was fueled by her ever-present companion, her iced tea cup. If we were somehow able to count the number of gallons of tea that have been drunk by her from this cup, it's likely to be more than the amount of water in the Shenandoah River! :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwPqjtBrtI/AAAAAAAAI7U/rh0hsNeHWnI/s1600/_MG_0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwPqjtBrtI/AAAAAAAAI7U/rh0hsNeHWnI/s320/_MG_0005.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Two of our neighbor girls came over to help out by watching Tobin and Shav at our house while I was helping my parents. All the other kids (Josiah and David and their cousins) did a great job of helping; they truly contributed to all that was accomplished today. When their energy and spirits were lagging, all I had to do was say, "I'll race you back to the old house," and they perked up right away. I think they beat me at every single race, too. ;-)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwP_N3HQYI/AAAAAAAAI7Y/mOKA3B7VrKk/s1600/_MG_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwP_N3HQYI/AAAAAAAAI7Y/mOKA3B7VrKk/s320/_MG_0010.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
My strong brother held up a bookshelf while the whole earth titled. Oh, wait, that was just the camera tilting. ;-)<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">His lovely wife started organizing the kitchen. And the worst part is -- she <b><i>left </i></b>before she finished the job! We should have demanded that she stay with us for a few more days/weeks/months, so that she could complete what she started. ;-)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwRDqaZ9lI/AAAAAAAAI7g/OlG_ftonJuk/s1600/_MG_0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRwRDqaZ9lI/AAAAAAAAI7g/OlG_ftonJuk/s320/_MG_0014.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
All in all, it was a GREAT day; and we really got a lot accomplished. There is much more to be done, however. ;-)<br />
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I'm really proud of my parents. When they decided to sell this house to us, they went through a considerable period of downsizing as they moved into a much smaller house. Then when Dad retired, he sorted through and got rid of an immense amount of medical stuff as he prepared to change his office into a house. Now, as they go through this move, I'm reminded of how they've handled these transitions with grace, holding their possessions with a light grasp, and keeping their eyes focused on <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=hebrews%2011:16&version=NIV">their home to come.</a> Their real home. Their permanent home. <br />
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Thank You, God, that when we move there, we get to travel light...and You do all the moving for us! ;-)Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-33609275202721645222010-12-28T23:58:00.001-05:002010-12-29T00:27:14.417-05:00She's At It Again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There's not much time to blog tonight. Christmas, Part Two, is in full swing over here; and we have beloved house guests sleeping under our roof tonight. Plus, tomorrow is Part One of my parents' Very Big (Across the Parking Lot) Move. But before I get a little sleep, I've gotta say...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That sister-in-law of mine! ;-) Three years ago, <a href="http://lifeonsylvandrive.blogspot.com/2007/12/no-wonder-david-loves-his-aunt-and.html">we caught her feeding David</a> (who was two years old at the time) much more <a href="http://thefoodiespot.blogspot.com/2010/03/oreo-ice-cream-dessert.html">Oreo Ice Cream Dessert</a> than he was "supposed" to have. :) And now, this year, look who's benefiting from her generosity!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRrCzdvYlaI/AAAAAAAAI68/K6tOw-VoeFk/s1600/_MG_0058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRrCzdvYlaI/AAAAAAAAI68/K6tOw-VoeFk/s320/_MG_0058.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I do believe Tobin ate virtually every bit of her dessert; and when she went into the kitchen and got more for herself and came back with a full plate, he wanted <b><i>it</i></b>, too! It made me wonder: if we set the entire dish of ice cream dessert in front of Tobin and let him eat as much as he wanted, would he eat the whole thing?! :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tobin's not the only one who loves his aunt. We are all big fans of their family, and I think my favorite part of every visit is the time after all the kids are settled in bed when my brother David and his wife Lori and Jeff and I can sit down in the cozy living room and talk. Tonight we covered the topics of creationism, colleges, switching churches, rusty trucks and Jeeps, Craigslist, cigars, tithing, time shares, and more. I love it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love <b><i>them</i></b>. ;-)</div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-82973883685484498572010-12-27T22:52:00.000-05:002010-12-27T22:52:52.703-05:00Christmas for Four<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRlerIs3iAI/AAAAAAAAI64/XJuj-VmDT1A/s1600/_MG_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRlerIs3iAI/AAAAAAAAI64/XJuj-VmDT1A/s320/_MG_0019.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-56036746671920519712010-12-26T15:04:00.000-05:002010-12-26T15:04:41.759-05:00Grandma Loved a Pirate<div style="text-align: center;">And the pirate, he loved her.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRefP8w0ueI/AAAAAAAAI6w/SJrvuWNu3m8/s1600/_MG_0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRefP8w0ueI/AAAAAAAAI6w/SJrvuWNu3m8/s320/_MG_0008.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Everyone thought Grandma was such a <b><i>good </i></b>girl.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRefhQDBt0I/AAAAAAAAI60/tQ1lDxA6c9c/s1600/_MG_0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRefhQDBt0I/AAAAAAAAI60/tQ1lDxA6c9c/s320/_MG_0005.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">But now we know the truth. ;-)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TReejSXdNYI/AAAAAAAAI6s/Z0EdhykRPNY/s1600/_MG_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TReejSXdNYI/AAAAAAAAI6s/Z0EdhykRPNY/s320/_MG_0003.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Those dashing pirates are hard to resist.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TReeN1ryu1I/AAAAAAAAI6k/Wrm35_MNg7U/s1600/_MG_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TReeN1ryu1I/AAAAAAAAI6k/Wrm35_MNg7U/s320/_MG_0010.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Even for good girls. ;-)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRed5qY2dpI/AAAAAAAAI6Y/v_LN4muY6xQ/s1600/_MG_0013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRed5qY2dpI/AAAAAAAAI6Y/v_LN4muY6xQ/s320/_MG_0013.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-32780498875504034772010-12-25T22:02:00.000-05:002010-12-25T22:02:52.092-05:00A Gift Only God Could Give<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I loved Christmas Eve.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRasKQ15ZoI/AAAAAAAAI6Q/jpa0INV2x7k/s1600/_MG_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRasKQ15ZoI/AAAAAAAAI6Q/jpa0INV2x7k/s320/_MG_0002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I loved seeing the living room set up with pillows and sleeping bags and blankets for excited little boys. I loved hearing their daddy reading from our Advent book, <i>Bartholomew's Passage</i>, as he laid on the couch. I loved feeling the warmth of the fire in the woodstove. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRasbiOJspI/AAAAAAAAI6U/RsL4wNhLTEQ/s1600/_MG_0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRasbiOJspI/AAAAAAAAI6U/RsL4wNhLTEQ/s320/_MG_0005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>For a full year, I had been looking forward to my night of sleeping on the couch near my boys and the Christmas tree; and, needless to say, I loved actually doing it. Josiah and David and I were the only ones who made it through the night there. Tobin tried, but after one too many times of bouncing up out of his cozy nest and bugging his brothers, I took him up to his room about 10:00 p.m; and despite his protests, he quickly went to sleep there. Jeff fell asleep on our little couch, but also departed part of the way through the night. But I stayed there, waking occasionally to shift my position on the couch, drink in the sight of my two oldest sons in their youthful peace-drenched sleep, and breathe a prayer of thanks for such moments.<br />
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When we woke up this morning--around 7:30 a.m.--a glance out the window showed a most wonderful thing: it was snowing. Snow on Christmas morning? Unbelievable! It couldn't have been more perfect. As I rejoiced, I thought, "Only God could have given us this gift." <br />
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Sure, a weather forecaster could tell us the scientific reason for the snow arriving this morning. <i>This high pressure system here...and the low pressure system pushing against it...and the moisture from this storm system...and the winds from the south...blah, blah, blah... </i> But can a weather forecaster make it snow? No. Can you? Not a chance. Can I? No way.<br />
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The snow this morning was a gift only God could give.<br />
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Almost as soon as that thought entered my mind, I realized that <b><i>that was exactly what Christmas is all about. Only God could give a gift like Jesus.</i></b> Thank You, God, that You did!<br />
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I'm tempted to write more tonight, to share more pictures, to capture in words the moments that made this Christmas so special. But I can't. You see, one of the gifts Jeff gave me is <i>The Boy Who Came Back from Heaven</i>; and I started reading it while I was munching on left-overs a while ago. I could barely pull myself away from it long enough to talk to Jeff, tuck Josiah and David into bed, or do this post. ;-) I think it's going to be one of <i>those</i> books--the kind that makes you stay up WAY later than you should, just because you can't bear to set it down for one single second. If my bedside lamp is still on at 3:00 in the morning, you'll know why. :)Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-50406339246783973552010-12-24T00:15:00.002-05:002010-12-24T01:49:32.875-05:00Have You Done It?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Last weekend, I had the privilege of taking part in a Christmas program for the residents at a local nursing home. I've been wanting to do that for years, because outreach to the sometimes-abandoned elderly is dear to my heart; but I had never made it happen. This year, however, Josiah wanted the opportunity to play a few piano pieces somewhere, and it worked out for him to play in this program and for me to sing in it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was an incredibly moving experience for me; and if I had more time, I would write much more about it. But here is what I want to focus on tonight: one of the women in our group sang "O Holy Night." And it got me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Everybody knows that song, right? When I hear the first notes of it, I usually think, "What a gorgeous song!" But by the end of it, I'm thinking, "What a long song. Whew, I'm sort of glad it's over." Maybe I'm the only one who feels that way. :) I'm sure, however, that I'm <b><i>not </i></b>the only one who likes to belt out "O niiiiiiight diviiiiiiiine" when no one is around. I'm pretty sure Jeff doesn't do that. I'm pretty sure I have a time or two. This year. Every time I hear it on the radio. ;-)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One of the lines in the song says this:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Fall on your knees.</span></b></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And when I heard Cara belt out that line in the activity room of the nursing home, I thought, "<b>What am I doing on my feet?</b>" I was so moved by that whole morning of music that I could hardly keep the tears from flowing, though I hid it well, I think. As I stood there listening to her, my thoughts were racing: <i>Yes, I should literally fall on my knees. The awe that God's entrance to earth produces knocks me over. But if I really do kneel now, what will everyone think? I'm just here to sing harmony on a few Christmas carols, not to cause a stir or raise a ruckus. What do I do?</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I stood. I didn't fall on my knees. The program went on, I kept my tears of wonder in check, and the residents got cookies at the end. Nice. But not awesome. Not awestruck. I didn't do what the song said.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Until later...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Was it that night or the next that I was here at home, late at night, with everyone else asleep? The radio was on in the background as I went about my various tasks, when suddenly I heard those familiar arpeggios as "O Holy Night" began. It wasn't hard to figure out what to do. Without delay, I dropped to my knees, let the magnificence of the lyrics wash over me, <b><i>and worshiped.</i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Have you? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Have you heard "O Holy Night" this Christmas season? I would wager (except I don't) that the answer is yes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Have you done what it says?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Have you fallen on your knees?</span></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">********</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Today, I sat on the floor near Shav and watched him play with the figures from our manger scene.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRQ1hHzbs6I/AAAAAAAAI50/wAdjbYF_6M0/s1600/_MG_0012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRQ1hHzbs6I/AAAAAAAAI50/wAdjbYF_6M0/s320/_MG_0012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As he lifted the camel and moved the sheep and tried to set one of the Wise Men on the sloping roof and, yes, popped Baby Jesus' head into his mouth (until I gently admonished him, "Don't suck on Jesus, Shav"), I silently prayed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRQ19DyU_0I/AAAAAAAAI54/wlxWmu2O8uI/s1600/_MG_0009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRQ19DyU_0I/AAAAAAAAI54/wlxWmu2O8uI/s320/_MG_0009.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>"May the commonplace not become ordinary. May my familiarity with this story not breed contempt. May the easy availability of nativity sets of every size, shape, and material not diminish my respect for who these figures portray."</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRQ2RYKDHPI/AAAAAAAAI58/RDkwZyeHfd8/s1600/_MG_0007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRQ2RYKDHPI/AAAAAAAAI58/RDkwZyeHfd8/s320/_MG_0007.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>"Lord, may I never hesitate to fall on my knees before you, aware of the majesty of your coming, and filled with delight in your presence. Let me not forget Who Christmas is all about."</i></div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2103129892169944217.post-3596249978613479742010-12-22T23:48:00.001-05:002010-12-23T00:41:37.404-05:00Mr. Spontaneity<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I never know what Jeff will think of next. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">God knew that being spontaneous was not one of my natural gifts (ha!), so he blessed me with a man skilled in spontaneity, a man who would be able to bring out of me something that wasn't there to begin with. I've changed <b><i>so much</i></b> because of Jeff, but I still don't hold a candle to him when it comes to spur-of-the-moment ideas.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Today, for example, one of the first things he did this morning was say, "Let's hang up this shelf. Where do you want it?" This shelf, by the way, was given to us months ago by my dad; it was a cast-off from his office, no longer needed because of his retirement. Since Dad gave it to us, it's been hanging out in the back of Jeff's closet. I haven't pressured Jeff to put it up; and in fact, I haven't even thought about it recently. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Apparently, something made <b><i>Jeff </i></b>think about it, because he was all gung-ho about putting it up this morning. I didn't complain. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRLYqiT-eBI/AAAAAAAAI5U/sa2H64yQPz8/s1600/_MG_0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRLYqiT-eBI/AAAAAAAAI5U/sa2H64yQPz8/s320/_MG_0005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Jeff found the studs and screwed it in securely--it's a <b><i>heavy </i></b>shelf--and now it's a perfect place to display some of our books where they can visually tempt little hands to reach for them, pull them off the shelf, and peruse them.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">We decided to hang it right under the big map in our upstairs hallway, which reminded me of this quote I read recently in an article by Jill Hardy in my oft-used and much-appreciated homeschool planner, The Well-Planned Day: </div><blockquote><i>Your personal preferences will dictate a lot of your storage and organizational methods. I know many homeschoolers who bristle at the idea of leaving maps on the wall, or having desks in common living areas, and just as many who embrace home learning as a decorating style.</i></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRLY1-71vBI/AAAAAAAAI5Y/HOMlsTpCJxE/s1600/_MG_0007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRLY1-71vBI/AAAAAAAAI5Y/HOMlsTpCJxE/s320/_MG_0007.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">"Home learning as a decorating style"? Yes, I'd say that sounds about right. :)</div><div><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next thing Jeff did to surprise me today occurred when he returned to the house from taking some food scraps to the compost pile and feeding the animals. He came in the kitchen from the porch; but instead of quickly closing the door to keep the heat inside, he held the door open and gave a short whistle. In trotted Molly. Dear, sweet Molly. Our first dog, my favorite dog of the three we have now. But in the house? Our dogs are outdoor ones and always have been; they enjoy the room to run freely in our pasture, and I enjoy the fact that my house has no dog hair or dog smell in it! :) But The One Who Surprises Me decided that it would be fun to bring Molly down from the pasture and bring her in the house...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRLaDeQk0aI/AAAAAAAAI5k/9OP67Xe3r0Y/s1600/_MG_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRLaDeQk0aI/AAAAAAAAI5k/9OP67Xe3r0Y/s320/_MG_0001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>...and then take her for a walk with three eager boys.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRLaHiHzpuI/AAAAAAAAI5o/o2l9k8AXwdI/s1600/_MG_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRLaHiHzpuI/AAAAAAAAI5o/o2l9k8AXwdI/s320/_MG_0002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It <i>was </i>fun, too; and if it wasn't for that little bit about the dog hair and smell, I would dearly love having Molly as an indoor dog.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRLadpP7awI/AAAAAAAAI5s/nhiXpCiU3OY/s1600/_MG_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zI3q6im3vPg/TRLadpP7awI/AAAAAAAAI5s/nhiXpCiU3OY/s320/_MG_0003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As it is, we'll let her stay outside with her two dog buddies and two goat buddies; but I'm so glad Jeff thought to bring her inside for a little bit today.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">That man! He surely keeps me on my toes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><i>That's </i></b>why I married him. ;-)</div>Davenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261854803640120972noreply@blogger.com3