tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3628690927959461202024-03-21T22:32:08.450-07:00Cinderella, Little Furmaid, and Sleeping JudyThese are a few of my favorite things,
or,
what I like to rememberElizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.comBlogger598125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-60438131369506773862012-09-26T15:50:00.000-07:002012-09-26T15:50:54.700-07:00I'm Stealing.<h4>
From Sarah and from Kate - what they each found from Tolkien and from Tim Keller and from C.S. Lewis.</h4>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #333333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>Fairytales move us in a way that realistic fiction does not (and can not). Because fairy tales speak to us of several deep human longings that we are almost afraid to admit and that we can never discard. We long to survey the depths of time and space. We long to get outside of time altogether and escape death. We long to hold communion with other living things, like angels. We long to find a love which perfectly heals and from which we can never depart. And we long to triumph over evil finally and totally. When you are in the middle of a great fairy tale, the fairy tale lets you live even briefly with the dream that love without parting, escape from death, triumph over evil are real and realizable. That’s why the stories stir us so deeply. And why we will go on reading and writing them no matter what the critics may say.</i> </span><span style="font: normal normal normal 10px/normal 'Trebuchet MS'; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-size: small;"> Tolkien on Fairytales</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-size: small;"> and then Tim Keller writes,</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But the gospel is better. For the truth of Jesus is this... <i>the gospel’s message is that, through Jesus Christ, every single one of these things that the fairy tales talk about is true and will come to pass. We will hang out with angels. We will have loves from which we are never parted. We will see an absolute triumph over evil. There is a beauty who will kiss you in all your beastliness and transform you. There is a prince who will save us, forever.</i> The reality leaves me breathless, and astonished!</span></span></div>
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<h4>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>"The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back."</b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>- C.S. Lewis</b></span><span style="font: normal normal normal 13px/normal Baskerville;"> </span></span></h4>
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Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-84330698582389730212012-09-25T02:30:00.000-07:002012-09-25T02:30:02.460-07:00What Recycling Used to Look Like, This Is True, I'm Not Making This Up, Seriously....<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And it was simpler and I wish, sometimes, we could all agree to be that way again - but not always.</span><br />
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Okay, what made me think of this - today - when I was emptying my small trash cans and I began to think - <i> Is everyone that way - activities lead you to thoughts about other things, other times, other places - things people have said.....?</i><br />
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Emptying small trash cans in individual rooms always makes me think of a conversation I had with a college roommate - actually, we shared an apartment - my friend, Martha - and we were both from our small town of Evergreen and our moms were friends and same agish.... so we were discussing, way back then, the task of emptying small trash cans - and how we didn't get it done until they were full to overflowing - at which point Martha talked about how her mother had done the task daily when Martha was living at home - how her mom, Addy, would never let the trash cans get out of hand - or so it seemed. I remarked, with a smile, my mom either!!! What a difference in their generation and ours... what's happened to us, we wondered - and continued to let the trash cans fill up. I have no clue what we did about the larger "kitchen garbage can". <br />
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So I'm 61 now and my mind aimlessly goes back, on cue, to that conversation each time I empty my small trash cans - only.... today I thought more about it and how I think about it on cue - but I also thought about how we didn't have the small trash can liners back then. No one had the liners when our mothers were doing that daily task nor when Martha and I were doing that in 1973 and 1974. And.... on top of that they didn't have the liners for the kitchen garbage cans. <br />
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So here we come to my comments on recyclling and how it was done.<br />
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1. Before Milk Cartons there were Glass Milk Bottles and the full bottles were left at our side door - to be returned, empty, on the requested schedule. Replaced by more full bottles of milk. We did the same with glass coke bottles. Returning them wasn't required, as the cokes were not left at our door, but we didn't drink so much coke - only on special occasions - and - the motivation was that if we returned them to the designated location - usually the local grocery store - we'd get 2 cents per empty bottle. You better believe my mother returned our glass coke bottles - as well as saving her S&H Green stamps which she got from the grocery store - to be redeemed for selected products at the S&H Green Stamp Store.<br />
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2. Some innovative someone thought of the milk cartons and soon, no more glass milk bottles. Then, of course, there were no plastic grocery bags, only the large brown paper bags which Mother definitely saved from her Thursday trips to the grocery store, doing her weekly grocery shopping - Thursday afternoons, coming in from school, were wonderful - I knew definitely that Mom had been to the grocery store and couldn't wait to see what I would have to snack on after school. Okay - back to the brown bags. Those were mother's garbage can liners - with a layer of saved newspapers beneath the brown bag to catch any yukky moisture - BUT - to cut down on yukky moisture - and we did not have garbage disposals yet - not in our house - Mother saved her cartons, opened them up to a square opening and she put her food scraps and coffee grinds in the empty milk carton. If she'd had a garden, she could have composted that - but she didn't have a garden. I'm small town, but I wasn't raised on a farm, nor were Mom or Dad garden oriented. Mother got fresh vegetables from curb markets and the local A&P. Or from friends who gifted her with their overflow. I definitely grew up eating fresh vegetables. My grandmother didn't even grow her own garden - but there were always fresh vegetables to eat at her house.<br />
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That's really all I have to say about recycling. We just had less to throw out, I think. I like liners. I love liners. I do not like yukky garbage which leads to yukky garbage cans. Let's keep that liner up and over the can. <br />
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Still - I have a fondness for brown grocery bags. I prefer them, actually, but I don't request them. I just always take the plastic bags which are not at all aesthetically pleasing. Not at all. Yet, with babies back in my world, the plastic grocery bags are perfect for dirty diapers - but when I had babies, I disposed of my dirty diapers in all of my saved bread bags. <br />
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Which takes us to cloth diapers vs. disposable - now there's a whole other way to recycle. I totally went with disposable diapers. Completely. <br />
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I succumb to all the conveniences, but if we could all agree to go back - all of us - I would, maybe. Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-74241370617961383352012-09-24T08:26:00.000-07:002012-09-24T08:26:02.071-07:00BOOM! FALL IS HERE!We're all loving it, aren't we? Thank you, Lord, for this season!!!! How can one love a particular season so much? - when, actually, it feels like I love Spring and Summer equally as much - and then comes Fall. Sorry, Mr. Winter, you have your place, too - just not the same feeling. You are our rest - our repose - our calm before the wild burst of life and living and energy which abounds in the other 3 seasons. <br />
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So - this is all I have. Pictures of 3 wreaths I've made and my display of pumpkins and mums. Not very original, and I had planned not to succumb to the temptation of all those gorgeous pumpkins at the Market across from Calvary Baptist Church in Scottsboro, AL - but I did. Yesterday was too perfect in temperature and sky and air and so I headed down to get my pumpkins. Charlie went with me, and Ellie and Luke, and Sarah and Ann - and I loaded up. We loaded up. Charlie and I. For me, it's a lot. I don't usually buy so many all at once. But they keep all the way through Thanksgiving. They do, usually.<br />
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And so follows my parade of pictures of my hand-crafted wreaths and my display of pumpkins and chrysanthemums: <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><b>Happy Fall 2012.</b></span></div>
<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-70585949476547604332012-09-03T11:14:00.000-07:002012-09-03T11:14:31.129-07:00Just saying....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is true, it's too exhausting - so I don't even pretend at this.</div>
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I'm 61 and I've long ago passed that aha moment in a woman's life where she exclaims, </div>
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"Oh my gosh! I'm my mother!"</div>
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I'm now one of those women who sighs and says,</div>
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"Dear God, please let me be my mother..."</div>
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How did Mother do 61 so great? She did 61 great. She was great at 61.</div>
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Great, great, great.</div>
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Let's see, I was 29 when Mother was 61....</div>
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and expecting my first baby.</div>
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But I did see the above ecard on <a href="http://momastery.com/blog/">another blog</a> which I discovered last night.</div>
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<a href="http://momastery.com/blog/">momastery.com</a></div>
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I recommend it.</div>
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I got it off <a href="http://www.kellehampton.com/">another blog</a> which I also recommend.</div>
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<a href="http://www.kellehampton.com/">kellehampton.com</a></div>
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Both are good reading.</div>
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There are some intense stories behind both ladies which make their blogs so good.</div>
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You have to read the About part of their blogs. </div>
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<a href="http://momastery.com/blog/about-glennon/">Meet Glennon</a> is how it reads on <a href="http://momastery.com/blog/">Momastery</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.kellehampton.com/p/about.html">About This Blog</a> is how it reads on <a href="http://www.kellehampton.com/">Enjoying the Small Things</a></div>
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That's it.</div>
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Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-91641508235913990602012-08-27T07:55:00.001-07:002012-08-27T07:55:58.150-07:00Quotes<br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Whatsoever we have over-loved, idolized, and leaned upon, God has from time to time broken it, and made us to see the vanity of it; so that we find the readiest course to be rid of our comforts is to set our hearts inordinately upon them.</span></i></b> —John Flavel<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>I had saved the following from Of First Importance which comes directly to my email because it gave me so much assurance:</b></span><br />
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<a href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/OfFirstImportance/~3/Y5GrFojwM58/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email" name="1" style="color: #5b211a; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 20px; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">A patient and condescending teacher</a></div>
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<span>Posted:</span> 24 Aug 2012 05:07 AM PDT</div>
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“<span id="internal-source-marker_0.8233123891986907"><em>Moses said, ‘The Lord God will raise up for you a prophet like me from your brothers. You shall listen to him in whatever he tells you.’ (<a class="bibleref" href="http://www.gnpcb.org/esv/search/?q=Acts+3%3A22" style="color: #5b211a; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;" title="Acts 3:22">Acts 3:22</a>)</em></span></div>
Jesus Christ is called and appointed by God to be the great Prophet and teacher of the Church. <b>The weakest Christians need not be discouraged</b> at the dullness and incapacity they find in themselves. Christ is not only a patient and condescending teacher, but he can also, as he has often done, reveal that to babes, which <span class="GRcorrect" id="GRmark_6848aad129df310a35dada8492ea7fd8e50e20da_is hid:0">is hid</span> from the wise and learned (<a class="bibleref" href="http://www.gnpcb.org/esv/search/?q=Mat+11" style="color: #5b211a; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;" title="Mat 11">Mat 11</a>: 25).<br />
Yea, and such as you are, the Lord delights to choose, that his grace may be the more conspicuous in your weakness (<a class="bibleref" href="http://www.gnpcb.org/esv/search/?q=1+Cor.+1" style="color: #5b211a; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;" title="1 Cor. 1">1 Cor. 1</a>: 26, 27). <b>You will have nothing of your own to glory in;</b> you will not say, as a proud wretch once said, “I and my God did this.” Jesus Christ will not divide the praise with any.<br />
<b>Well then, be not discouraged. </b>Others may know more in other things than you, but you are not incapable of knowing so much as shall save your souls, if Christ will be your teacher. In other knowledge they excel you: but if you know Jesus Christ, and the truth as it is in him, one drop of your knowledge is worth a whole sea of their gifts.”<br />
<cite style="font-size: 13px; font-style: normal;"><span class="author">— John Flavel</span><br /><span class="book" style="margin-left: 16px;"><a href="http://www.wtsbooks.com/product-exec/product_id/459/nm/Works+of+John+Flavel%2C+6+Vol.+Set?utm_source=byl&utm_medium=byl" style="color: #5b211a; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">The Fountain of Life</a></span></cite></div>
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<cite style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Then today, as I returned to it, to read it, I began to wonder who is John Flavel. I was thinking he was a contemporary writer, but it occured to me, perhaps he's one of those older church fathers whose works are still blessing so many. Sure enough - John Flavel lived from 1628 to 1691. I'd never heard of him. So - I found the quote above with which I began this post.</b></span></cite></div>
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<cite style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>I am blessed and in awe how the God who is the Alpha and the Omega, Who was there touching and speaking and making life in the beginning and all through what we refer to as "long time ago" up until right now - has revealed and always will reveal to men and women - the truth - that we must be covered in the blood of Christ - that we are beggars in need of a Savior Redeemer - lover of our souls, and that it is about resting in Him - that we have nothing and He has everything. </b></span></cite></div>
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<cite style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Let us look to Him.</b></span></cite></div>
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Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-90793146937094519222012-08-17T09:13:00.000-07:002012-08-17T09:13:52.573-07:00I'm Sorry, I Realize That My Posts Are So Serious if There Are Any Posts At All<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Still, I have to put this here - and if you meet me on the street, my life is so very daily and my conversation not at all serious - in fact, you probably will find me breaking into laughter - just because I do that a lot and I find the ordinary rather humorous - and I probably will talk about the mundane - because this world compared to the next - well - good grief - </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I actually do have very heavy trials to observe, but not personally experience. I have two friends who are each living through difficult situations (along with their families) - One possibly has ovarian cancer and the other a severe form of dementia - Both trials turn one's attention toward the eternal and the end of life. Also - I keep up with two stories on CaringBridge - one, a young mother is fighting for her life and unless God heals her miraculously - then she will not be on this earth much longer. She has two young sons. She has a strong faith in God and understands her redemption in Christ. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In my, what would appear to be, ordinary life, <i>(but it is not at all ordinary since I know that my life is ordered by the Creator of this Universe and the Creator of the Heavenly Realms) </i> I am preparing for the upcoming fall and winter and spring - in our church - to teach an art class for first thru sixth graders. Also, I am gearing up to help Ann with her homeschooling tasks, by keeping her two youngest two days a week, to lighten the load a bit. At my age, the concious intentional preparation of a task which has been given to me <i>(the art class) </i> seems to be much more overwhelming to me than in my younger days. In my heart I might be throwing my face into my hands and wailing, "Oh Woe Is Me! I Cannot Do This!" But on the outside I smile and say, "Sure, I can handle it. I'll be fine." My kind, enduring husband, Charlie, hears what is in my heart. He hears it out loud. Actually, in my younger days, I did the same thing. But I know that this is something God has given me to do. I'm like those weak guys in the Old Testament to whom He gave tasks, and they whined all the way through the tasks - all the while God really doing the tasks - they were just His Whining Vessels. I would that I was a Shining Vessel instead of a Whining Vessel. :-) See? I like to laugh, especially at myself. Well, I laugh at us all. :-)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Anyway - there's other microscopic things going on. My favorite thing to do is work in the yard. Love the physical exertion of that. I love it. I don't do that very much, though - not these days. Or my other favorite is work on a project, like a painting project - or any kind of personal project for the home.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">All of that wasn't the serious part. Below is what I love to read and know and absorb. I want it to be in every cell - in my soul and body - I also want all whom I know and see and meet to read it and know it and absorb it. It's so true that we can't fully absorb that kind of truth. I want to, though. My humanity is all around me. I'm entangled in it - yet, here is the real light and truth and reality. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>To Him Who loves us and has freed us from our sins by His blood and made us a kingdom, priests to His God and Father, to Him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. Behold, He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him, even those who pierced Him, and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of Him. Even so, Amen.</i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>"I am the Alpha and the Omega", says the Lord God, "Who is, and Who was, and Who is to come, the Almighty". </i> </span><br />
Revelations 1: 5b - 8<br />
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<b style="font-size: x-large;">To Him Who loves us and has freed us from our sins by His blood and made us a kingdom, priests to His God and Father, to Him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. </b></div>
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Revelations 1: 5b - 6</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Aslan a man!" said Mr. Beaver sternly. "Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of a the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don't you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion, the Lion, the great Lion."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Ooh," said Susan, "I thought he was a man. Is he - quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"That you will, dearie, and make no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver; "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver; "don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the king I tell you."</span></div>
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- from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis</div>
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Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-18781397311867275082012-08-08T07:24:00.002-07:002012-08-08T07:24:31.195-07:00A Few RecommendationsOkay - 2 weeks since my last post.<br />
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I'm sick of seeing "Guess What I Did Yesterday" as the leading post. It screams at me. See? I go to my blog regularly to see if there are new posts by other friends, family and various creative people. <br />
The first thing I see is that loud title from two weeks ago.<br />
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So I'll share this.<br />
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I was listening to and watching, online, an interview, yesterday, of J.I. Packer. There were a few things I copied that he said.<br />
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Here is one:<br />
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Interviewer:<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Martin Lloyd Jones, how do you characterize his influence on you? </b>(he mentioned other ways that Martin Lloyd Jones influenced him, as a pastor and teacher of God's word, but here is the one I copied down)</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>"In his sense that <u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">in the mind of God a church is the central concern</span></u> and his insistence that <u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">no Christian ought ever to be content until the church is alive and cutting ice for Christ in the community</span></u>, that emphasis is with me still, and I still think like Jones thought." J.I.Packer</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Another quote:</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>If asked what reading I would recommend to anyone nowadays who wants reading that will disciple them I always say to start by getting Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress under your belt and go on from there to Owen and Baxter. J.I.Packer</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I have never read Pilgrim's Progress. I've meant to. He is referring to John Owen and Richard Baxter. I have read some of John Owen but nothing of Richard Baxter.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Does the reader of this post use Google? I do a lot. If I don't know the definition of word, google it. If I'm curious about a subject, google it. Or a person, google them. Sometimes it's a wild goose chase and I give up. More often than not, my questions are answered.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I recommend googling Richard Baxter. I just did. I want to read some of his writings.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Another thing I recommend. It's a cleaning product. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Mrs. Meyers All Purpose Cleaner. I have found it at Wal-mart. It's one of those eco friendly cleaners and it smells delicious - like lavender. Well, that's the scent I purchased. Don't remember if there are others. Ooh, so clean and refreshing to smell. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI9UOodqFLLoRkMIucnintWGJt7xoM2P_tWnCRLa20eWKWRukw2Ld0O8LWaRI-XfC6k3C-Map_N4Ly1Oe09RqOrQyv7uPWv6j297P0U47Yx7jx5hmoq_mu05intZd72T5dk-2IxzYGUm8/s1600/Mrs.+Meyers+clean+day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI9UOodqFLLoRkMIucnintWGJt7xoM2P_tWnCRLa20eWKWRukw2Ld0O8LWaRI-XfC6k3C-Map_N4Ly1Oe09RqOrQyv7uPWv6j297P0U47Yx7jx5hmoq_mu05intZd72T5dk-2IxzYGUm8/s320/Mrs.+Meyers+clean+day.jpg" width="234" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Actually there are so many other scents because I just "googled" it.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The scent at the local Wal-Mart is lavender and I love it.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Makes me look forward, almost, to mopping my kitchen floor, </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">or wiping down my counter tops.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.mrsmeyers.com/">http://www.mrsmeyers.com/</a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One other recommendation</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Besides beginning to read Richard Baxter or Pilgrim's Progress or John Owen,</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">daily go <a href="http://kellerquotes.com/">here:</a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://kellerquotes.com/">http://kellerquotes.com/</a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This guy daily posts Tim Keller Quotes which are heart and soul and mind provoking.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Main recommendation.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">daily say to God - "I want to know You. I'm tired of me and myself. Let me see You and love what You love. Let me delight in what You delight in. Show me Yourself. Draw me to Your Word. Give me a hunger for You and Your Word. Break my heart, cause it to be contrite and yielded to You."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Imagine God in Heaven and on Earth - creator of everything - and He loves us and loved us. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">God the son, became flesh and bore all of our sin and sorrow and grief and despair.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">He bore our humanity so that we can be covered in Him, in all that He is and who He is.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">He gave us all of His joy.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Say yes.</span></div>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-16471134862206459042012-07-25T05:05:00.001-07:002012-07-25T05:05:25.616-07:00Guess What I Did Yesterday Afternoon?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwXUqhT0KhWsY15emG0OEj_UcwptOP_mXJOLyTC8T4enzEHPwIp50cQdE_7OMvUP8XadAXH0Jbux9VQ9wQ6UkGnMPbX6tPMwcz-9PttJgZvaWwzhsbhPZlDWPTn3a2C3mn7q1oJzZIuJ4/s1600/white+bowl+of+lemons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwXUqhT0KhWsY15emG0OEj_UcwptOP_mXJOLyTC8T4enzEHPwIp50cQdE_7OMvUP8XadAXH0Jbux9VQ9wQ6UkGnMPbX6tPMwcz-9PttJgZvaWwzhsbhPZlDWPTn3a2C3mn7q1oJzZIuJ4/s400/white+bowl+of+lemons.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Welllllll......</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Today is Wednesday.</span></div>
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I have someone, in town, with whom I have lunch each Wednesday -</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">However,</span></div>
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I have a friend from out of town who still travels to Scottsboro for her dentist appointments and today, following her dentist appointment, she'll swing by my house, midday. </div>
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<i>(I worked on that sentence and I hope that I got it right, structurally. I'm not really sure.)</i></div>
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So - I decided to do a light lunch at my house - but I am intentionally keeping it VERY simple.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I have kept it simple - but I have two lemon</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">dessert recipes</span></div>
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which I've been dying to try, and I couldn't pick between the two for tomorrow</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">So I've made both!!</span></div>
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I have to say that, thanks to MOM, I'm a good cook from the old school. </div>
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I mean, I can do some of the new stuff - but pastries and breads and comfort food - </div>
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well, I've got those down.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnty5r3fYnO5mqCAInzDdpwZCZiGYIojAsyBazhDw5RAY-C21yaTZhsJIqdcIuYFT4sT0646bqTDwqpZTeEGSdJbvO1v5Dcf2IEipAxJUQ33TXE4YbRqiJBYZBjx8JEaSLdl3VuNTCylE/s1600/mixer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnty5r3fYnO5mqCAInzDdpwZCZiGYIojAsyBazhDw5RAY-C21yaTZhsJIqdcIuYFT4sT0646bqTDwqpZTeEGSdJbvO1v5Dcf2IEipAxJUQ33TXE4YbRqiJBYZBjx8JEaSLdl3VuNTCylE/s400/mixer.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Only thing is, I don't do any of that much anymore.</div>
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We're all so, um, trying to be thin and be healthy, and, well, we just know too much now.</div>
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I mean, it's hard to eat all that stuff when we know what we know - </div>
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still..... today is special. 3 friends at my house - one other than the 2 I mentioned.</div>
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so...</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We're having LEMON DESSERTS!!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD9rByKdrmtfzqe1aC1BmOIWyKu1-mdtxwqqY75rhi-9tq4IWMzRTs5ndypFtti9tRV82wFWALgFWL-2vdlJNQFtA9UqUSkMf7MgcFnANtTnOiE-FGJTIf1uXvg7pzcVpEE4h5h8aB-b0/s1600/2+messy+bowls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD9rByKdrmtfzqe1aC1BmOIWyKu1-mdtxwqqY75rhi-9tq4IWMzRTs5ndypFtti9tRV82wFWALgFWL-2vdlJNQFtA9UqUSkMf7MgcFnANtTnOiE-FGJTIf1uXvg7pzcVpEE4h5h8aB-b0/s400/2+messy+bowls.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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My kitchen was smelling so delicious and I was strongly inhaling that lucious lemon scent </div>
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and I had Mother in my heart. </div>
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She had some scrumptious lemon desserts which she used to make, and</div>
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She LOVED a bowl of lemons on the table.</div>
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She considered it extravagant to have real lemons on the table,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0sns_LNTUJ6Xl6bBivcC59eYsPWhAP93ohhEEfQa2lrguFQ0ycKZzX0ZPcBTjwzmopnSb9u6BTL4Kca75so5zUpUDbYf84X9T9PM9OlPgMtp9G3gstjcDjZ1e0RLMSFoiMSoCWnaeS0/s1600/lemons+on+table.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0sns_LNTUJ6Xl6bBivcC59eYsPWhAP93ohhEEfQa2lrguFQ0ycKZzX0ZPcBTjwzmopnSb9u6BTL4Kca75so5zUpUDbYf84X9T9PM9OlPgMtp9G3gstjcDjZ1e0RLMSFoiMSoCWnaeS0/s400/lemons+on+table.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Because she was of the WWII and the Depression Generation.</div>
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Lemons are not cheap. </div>
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so - to be so extravagant as to have a bowl of lemons on the table - </div>
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well - it just didn't happen except on special occasions.</div>
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Today is special and I've made 2 lemons desserts and I bought two bags of lemons.</div>
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One for the recipes and one for the table.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Here's the thing -</span></div>
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All that lemon smell has taken me right back to Mother.</div>
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She was in the kitchen - but she wasn't, really.</div>
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I heard her talking - but I didn't, really.</div>
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Then I was all missing her and getting all nostalgic and wanting to write about her</div>
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and tell somebody about my mother.</div>
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Don't we all? Well, most of us. Or... a lot of us.</div>
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(this picture is in my kitchen)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrNhTgvanLeJGIdS-mK3zL6if84WSCLHOpCAt7ZZwLUALzEilFtIubdjMcgGLy0_DyKox9DJIiToD6N0B-izd0CSFOZyo-OwBMLoiNvHU3besj850Vu5Ic9TEAD6m_4HxURTPTJ_3SszI/s1600/mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrNhTgvanLeJGIdS-mK3zL6if84WSCLHOpCAt7ZZwLUALzEilFtIubdjMcgGLy0_DyKox9DJIiToD6N0B-izd0CSFOZyo-OwBMLoiNvHU3besj850Vu5Ic9TEAD6m_4HxURTPTJ_3SszI/s400/mom.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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(my favorite - Mother's so tickled and just being so herself)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJqAeu59yEc22Mr82gg80zWpcERz6TTa0CV0t7GwKApQ4vuVPBKuB_ZYZqFWbrMZoS_xkP8q2dmGrO6E19fMPqqz4re0RsywRT3-MPbPXOWC0xQa0-hADRzCd8fCGCvjtEUL9ylltXG4/s1600/Mother+sitting+in+chair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJqAeu59yEc22Mr82gg80zWpcERz6TTa0CV0t7GwKApQ4vuVPBKuB_ZYZqFWbrMZoS_xkP8q2dmGrO6E19fMPqqz4re0RsywRT3-MPbPXOWC0xQa0-hADRzCd8fCGCvjtEUL9ylltXG4/s400/Mother+sitting+in+chair.jpg" width="285" /></a></div>
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I have no recollection of this except I can see her and I know that she was all about Mary Ann and me and probably so excited about the new house she and Daddy were building....</div>
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and the look on her face, well, it was her trying to figure out how best to pose for this picture.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatpeKdc0ooMUi5ktgqTzuLnRszeP1oqtQ84ZPuhMD_TgQZhTsqGKuJiD0xiDlNMHY-NFZs3pOmexc_c0st1eIOde-dHTMNWZ1xH_RGvaKkoQ3Awb5eUxZt7Bi-ZqsuvwGGxqno1gDRmc/s1600/New+House+Rescan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatpeKdc0ooMUi5ktgqTzuLnRszeP1oqtQ84ZPuhMD_TgQZhTsqGKuJiD0xiDlNMHY-NFZs3pOmexc_c0st1eIOde-dHTMNWZ1xH_RGvaKkoQ3Awb5eUxZt7Bi-ZqsuvwGGxqno1gDRmc/s400/New+House+Rescan.jpg" width="391" /></a></div>
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Later.... much later ... and she is about to laugh about something - I am probably making some remark -</div>
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and we're on the ramp - the handicap ramp which she very much needed for all the arthritis and osteoporosis - Mary Ann and I need it now. And as Mother used to say about herself, </div>
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"I'm so shaw-wat!!" (I'm so short in southern-dialect)</div>
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the osteo had shrunk her.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaZXVV1lYn3Zk_R3QX3dXA7GkzCWYVbXWo8aqHi_WuOoQbJ6Amiz-GOVlvqC7Gpcb2Kh0qx6FkLA1f31__kgxWjXQVQ5D8xyGSI8d3JfzayMafZEJU-55KfEtYzTVOSF6bScR8B2Kygfw/s1600/MA+Mother+and+Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaZXVV1lYn3Zk_R3QX3dXA7GkzCWYVbXWo8aqHi_WuOoQbJ6Amiz-GOVlvqC7Gpcb2Kh0qx6FkLA1f31__kgxWjXQVQ5D8xyGSI8d3JfzayMafZEJU-55KfEtYzTVOSF6bScR8B2Kygfw/s400/MA+Mother+and+Me.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But back to the two lemon desserts,</span></div>
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They are done and Charlie and I sampled them last night.</div>
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Good.</div>
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One is Lemon Brownies and the other is Sunburst Lemon Bars.</div>
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We both liked the Lemon Bars the best, but the Brownies turned out the prettiest.</div>
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The bar recipe said not to grease the pan. Mistake!</div>
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And I chose the longer cooking time for the crust. I should have chosen the shorter cooking time.</div>
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Too crunchy - but so delicious.</div>
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I recommend both recipes.</div>
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This post is way too long already, so rather than type the recipes I will give the links to them both.</div>
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<a href="http://unegaminedanslacuisine.com/2012/07/lemon-brownies.html">Lemon Brownies</a></div>
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and</div>
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<a href="http://www.sohowsittaste.com/2012/03/sunburst-lemon-bars.html">Sunburst Lemon Bars</a></div>
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It's early morning and I have to prepare the lunch - </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Small Baked Ham</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Broccoli Salad</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Divine Muffins</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Basil Lemonade</span></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-68177389311871234972012-07-23T07:56:00.000-07:002012-07-23T07:56:21.155-07:00It's Monday<h2>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Galatians 2:20</span></span></h2>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Everything is needful that He sends, nothing can be needful that He withholds. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>John Newton</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>Think about that for the rest of your life. It will do you good. </i></span><span style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0px;">Tim Keller on the above John Newton quote.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">"We can easily manage if we take, each day, the burden appointed to it. But the load will be too heavy for us if we carry yesterday's burden over again today, and then add the burden of the morrow before we are required to bear it." - John Newton</span></span></div>
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<span style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">or</span></span></div>
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<span style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: small;">Matthew 6: 34</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">But really, the most peace I receive is knowing that it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. It's all His business - and I am to rest and be yielded. There is active obedience, yet it's all in trusting Him - Everything is needful that He sends, nothing can be needful that He withholds.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And that is living the life.</span></div>
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</div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-66158034870174274812012-07-20T07:10:00.000-07:002012-07-20T07:10:59.149-07:00If I Could I Would Memorize This...maybe I can....<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Adobe Garamond Pro', Garamond, Palatino, 'Palatino Linotype', Times, 'Times New Roman', Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: rgb(179, 175, 153); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; border-style: initial; border-top-color: rgb(202, 199, 184); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; color: #665f33; font-size: 1.6153em; font-style: italic; line-height: 26px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px; padding-top: 20px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; font-size: 21px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><em style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 21px; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Jesus, who unties such apparent extremes of character into such an integrated and balanced whole, demands an extreme response from every one of us. He forces our hand at every turn in the story. This man who throws open the gates of his kingdom to everyone, then warns the most devout insiders that their standing in the kingdom is in jeopardy without fruitfulness, is forever closing down our options. This man who can be weakened by a touch in a crowd on his way to bring a little girl back from the dead is a man you dare not tear your eyes from. (And we haven’t even yet witnessed the true depths of his restraint or the heights of his power.)</em></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: rgb(179, 175, 153); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #665f33; font-size: 1.6153em; font-style: italic; line-height: 26px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px; padding-top: 20px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; font-size: 21px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><em style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 21px; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">He is both the rest and the storm, both the victim and the wielder of the flaming sword, and you must accept him or reject him on the basis of both. Either you’ll have to kill him, or you’ll have to crown him. The one thing you can’t do is just say, ‘What an interesting guy.’ Those teachers of the law who began plotting to kill Jesus at the end of this episode in the temple – they may have been dead wrong about him, but their reaction makes perfect sense.</em></span></div>
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: rgb(179, 175, 153); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #665f33; font-size: 1.6153em; font-style: italic; line-height: 26px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 20px; padding-right: 20px; padding-top: 20px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; font-size: 21px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><em style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 21px; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Please don’t try to keep Jesus on the periphery of your life. He cannot remain there. Give yourself to him – center your entire life on him – and let his power reproduce his character in you.</em></span></div>
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from <a href="http://kellerquotes.com/kill-him-or-crown-him/">Tim Keller/kellerquotes.com</a></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-80078396573969223912012-07-15T05:35:00.000-07:002012-07-15T05:35:53.964-07:00Lord, I'm 500 Miles Away From HomeActually, I'm 443.79 miles away from home - according to mapquest. I don't have a GPS. <br />
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But it all makes me think of the Peter, Paul and Mary song. So this is what 500 miles feels like. Although I do have adequate clothing and we have brought money for the trip. I can go back home, and don't identify with all the lyrics to the song. <br />
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Sarah used to be this far from Scottsboro - while she lived in New Orleans. <br />
Now it's just Kate - living in Winston-Salem - and Sarah is with Charlie and me on this trip.<br />
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We borrowed Ann and Steve's air mattress. This is a shout out to Ann and Steve, if they read this post. I'm guessing you've been letting the children use the air mattress as a trampoline - it now has a slow leak. In the middle of the night Charlie and I decided that yes, we would turn the inflate switch on - which is quite noisy - because the air mattress was starting to feel like a water bed. I've never slept on a water bed - but it felt like one. By morning, the mattress had deflated some more. <br />
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I woke early, as usual for me, and made coffee - I sat on Kate's porch and enjoyed the morning and the coffee. <br />
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Has anyone noticed this added picture on my blog layout or if you follow Laura Beth on facebook, perhaps you have seen it - or seen it on Ann's facebook page.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWgeV2bqxtArn5_YhldDObKC_XSqD_2-rNIno-E7-_AherSVE5fsL_ljcik6a5C_V-QSIdZYcjtwzo-p5FjoVviNAHXytoSbBuxMUBi9hg8kQ8y2vgUpJhlx4Mve0rx1iU8XKZ7pnIbU4/s1600/cousins+july+13,+2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWgeV2bqxtArn5_YhldDObKC_XSqD_2-rNIno-E7-_AherSVE5fsL_ljcik6a5C_V-QSIdZYcjtwzo-p5FjoVviNAHXytoSbBuxMUBi9hg8kQ8y2vgUpJhlx4Mve0rx1iU8XKZ7pnIbU4/s400/cousins+july+13,+2012.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Last week Laura Beth, Ada and John traveled to Scottsboro per Ann's invite.</div>
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This time they stayed with Ann because Steve was out of town for the week.</div>
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It was all "unique and challenging and cute and some angst for the moms", </div>
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but they got it done. </div>
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Above is the only picture which was taken the whole week.</div>
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Laura Beth took it with her phone. </div>
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I need updated pictures of my McDonough grandchildren, </div>
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but I failed to take any at all last week.</div>
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Left to right, above, </div>
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Andrew Barber (3), Ada Moore (5), Ellie Barber (7), Luke Barber (6), John Moore (2),</div>
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and Abigail Barber (1)</div>
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Those are my 6 grandchildren. They are all stinkers - that's what I tell them. They are funny and can be exhausting - especially to their moms. This grandmother gets more down time than their moms do.</div>
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I hope to enjoy still more grandchildren. Sarah and Kate haven't even gotten started yet. I think Laura Beth will have another. I think we're all glad for a little break.</div>
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We've just completed Abigail's first year of infancy. The first year is such a challenge.</div>
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Okay - rambling - and I need to get ready for the day.</div>
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By the way, below is Kate's house which is actually 4 apartments.</div>
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I'm sitting behind one set of those double windows at the top, typing this.</div>
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Hers is a very unique apartment, built right after WWII and has recently been remodeled for the year 2012. There are hardwood floors, a brick fireplace, old wood doors with transoms, all very unique, and, again, updated with modern comforts.</div>
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<br /></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-648623984466460712012-07-13T08:05:00.003-07:002012-07-13T08:05:27.360-07:00If Only.....<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">"The secret to freedom from enslaving patterns of sin is worship. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">You need worship.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">You need great worship.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">You need weeping worship.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">You need glorious worship.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">You need to sense God's greatness and to be moved by it -</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">moved to tears and moved to laughter - </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">moved by who God is and what He has done for you - </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">This type of worship is the only thing that can replace </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">the little if only fire burning in your heart.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>If only I could feel Him to be</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b> as great as I know Him to be.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>If only I could taste His grace </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>as sweet as I know it to be.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>And when that if only fire is burning in your heart,</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>then you are free."</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-- Tim Keller</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I found this quote on<a href="http://theliliesofthefield.tumblr.com/"> Kate's</a> Tumblr Page.</i></span></div>
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<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-26376727842453749702012-07-12T12:17:00.001-07:002012-07-12T12:17:05.308-07:00Dear Blogspot.comI have been spending time with another cyberspace location. And.... I'm having more fun there. I don't have to write anything. I don't have to think at all. I just look and look and look.<br />
<br />
It's called Pinterest. <br />
<br />
I only check in to you, blogspot, to see what my other favorite bloggers have blogged. I don't want them to quit blogging - so I suppose I shouldn't quit, either. But they are much, much, much more creative than I am and most of them are a lot younger - with babies and children... and a lot of them make money with their blogs. <br />
<br />
I feel very connected to people on Pinterest, because I get to see what they are interested in - and - I get lots of creative ideas to pin to my own boards. <br />
<br />
I'm still not on facebook. I have held out for the old fashioned social interaction of conversing over a cup of coffee - or meeting for lunch - or just stopping by - or over the fence kind of chats - or bumping into someone in town. I like real skin - flesh and blood - facial expressions and tones of voices. I like people, in person. <br />
<br />
Still - I like to write and say what I'm thinking about -<br />
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Trouble is, my schedule has been so full that I don't think I've been thinking - except about eternal things - not everyday stuff - like wanting to spend my days on things eternal - like how Christ is all that matters and being in Him and Him being in me. I don't know how to communicate those realities so very well. <br />
<br />
In my last post I told that I was about to travel to that dear small town of Evergreen in South Alabama - but first have a visit with Martha and Val in Birmingham - I did all of that. It was all delightful - and energizing - as I had the opportunity to spend time with old friends and family.<br />
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Each afternoon, in Evergreen, I would go to the Nursing Home with Mary Ann - there we would visit with our aunt, Florence, who has been there a few months. Florence will be 90 in November. Our other aunt, Mary, and Mary's daughter, our cousin, Melissa, would be there also for the afternoon visit with Florence. It's the kind of thing we've always done in our family - gather together and laugh and talk and visit. I happen to have a few old pictures of those gatherings from the past. And then I follow with 3 pictures of our nursing home visits. Florence and Mary are in the first black and white, 2nd and 3rd from the left. My aunt, Lucille, is the other lady in the picture. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7DndREwuBId2Vo9rvTelejdRP22-1Wwv-smmHD70u_tpmlAoi9zmnI-0h8SLVsBgb2nkL3FcP7e75qc5NGl3iyKEx0ejYWZyd97ZfwwHEnUJG7uw2X6nyPRUPAIhsp0uRhf9M97f04jE/s1600/Old+b&W+of+gathering+of+sisters+and+husbands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7DndREwuBId2Vo9rvTelejdRP22-1Wwv-smmHD70u_tpmlAoi9zmnI-0h8SLVsBgb2nkL3FcP7e75qc5NGl3iyKEx0ejYWZyd97ZfwwHEnUJG7uw2X6nyPRUPAIhsp0uRhf9M97f04jE/s400/Old+b&W+of+gathering+of+sisters+and+husbands.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The gathering below is behind my house. Florence has the towel around her shoulders. I'm guessing Mom is going to either trim her hair or perm it or roll it. They were always doing those kinds of things.</div>
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Mother has on the skirt. Mother usually wore skirts. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQStcrpLgfsl9OTzNPP63iGPGQcqcSJm-iCntygmRwwLsHnzFxJhhUi8GyVkHXWHpGjb2yMINAUNg_0eKdhs0a_uNnsvPeg69RFLAtN3vSqW-d_5H-d-Mq83m1KL2yto2hgoF9F4LoAw/s1600/Cousins%2527+Mothers%252C+or+Playdate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQStcrpLgfsl9OTzNPP63iGPGQcqcSJm-iCntygmRwwLsHnzFxJhhUi8GyVkHXWHpGjb2yMINAUNg_0eKdhs0a_uNnsvPeg69RFLAtN3vSqW-d_5H-d-Mq83m1KL2yto2hgoF9F4LoAw/s400/Cousins%2527+Mothers%252C+or+Playdate.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This next one is all of us gathered at Mary's house following Daddy's funeral.</div>
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Florence is on the couch. Mother and Lucille are in front of the window.</div>
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Mother is in the white blouse.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNIgJbbaXPKm53lZjmTd8DtOUz9jil2_-74_PTBf5n_6oBkPeR1PAOjAzDzdH79CwSaG0TNimlZGaEg4SUmOXPJULuxOOX0dbZINyWCRcWWvhugjCAjlDP1OR0K9zKoIz8tx2FHE9euNM/s1600/following+daddy%2527s+funeral+at+Mary%2527s+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNIgJbbaXPKm53lZjmTd8DtOUz9jil2_-74_PTBf5n_6oBkPeR1PAOjAzDzdH79CwSaG0TNimlZGaEg4SUmOXPJULuxOOX0dbZINyWCRcWWvhugjCAjlDP1OR0K9zKoIz8tx2FHE9euNM/s400/following+daddy%2527s+funeral+at+Mary%2527s+house.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And finally here are the pictures taken two or three weeks ago at the nursing home.</div>
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We're still all talking and listening to each other.</div>
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Florence has on the green velour pants and jacket. Mary is in the yellow shirt and the white pants.</div>
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That's Mary Ann talking to each of them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Ln2NAPrFuC2urls6-17jIQeKlJFAC8QDJj5rsx_zWAi9F3w4yHraEbdARNxefxk5D0zGpipdKh52cRNC_xAYvtDEQDrrPuFP708ZLvmhvqHVO3NyQ1Gyc0TX9yBobJUWDEBCMB8_JlE/s1600/Mary+Ann+talking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Ln2NAPrFuC2urls6-17jIQeKlJFAC8QDJj5rsx_zWAi9F3w4yHraEbdARNxefxk5D0zGpipdKh52cRNC_xAYvtDEQDrrPuFP708ZLvmhvqHVO3NyQ1Gyc0TX9yBobJUWDEBCMB8_JlE/s400/Mary+Ann+talking.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Florence has always been a good listener.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLcqbOshNzlXhBbzru32IHaAlvFrrKWUQsMcVEIuLkYGs7N_rRVTZt8bndsENxmEXPP7g3kKIJwE1gvIT2h99WwmJ5OlpyFaw67cOscduLJC2itJ_JJiBlKEzRS-Up-6llYwmtcShCCBM/s1600/Florence+listening.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLcqbOshNzlXhBbzru32IHaAlvFrrKWUQsMcVEIuLkYGs7N_rRVTZt8bndsENxmEXPP7g3kKIJwE1gvIT2h99WwmJ5OlpyFaw67cOscduLJC2itJ_JJiBlKEzRS-Up-6llYwmtcShCCBM/s400/Florence+listening.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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Here she is looking at a picture I had brought her - it was a copy of a very old picture of her as a little girl. I copied it at CVS and put it in a frame for her. She remembered the details of that day when her mother (Ella, my grandmother) was trying to get her to sit still and stay clean so she could get a good picture of her. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-epPn-cTdaUMxtioX-kW7O5QTR7iPEhGCLy8dTZu8AiStzH5h8mEmBvN06UWq0JqJXbdpjIW2JvGlDz4a6L4X5_ocmyFBQgH8HXg9ZWe-3ZhbheTj7vMW7c2cjsbR86h3oc8pHtYDtSY/s1600/Florence+and+Mary%252C+looking+at+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-epPn-cTdaUMxtioX-kW7O5QTR7iPEhGCLy8dTZu8AiStzH5h8mEmBvN06UWq0JqJXbdpjIW2JvGlDz4a6L4X5_ocmyFBQgH8HXg9ZWe-3ZhbheTj7vMW7c2cjsbR86h3oc8pHtYDtSY/s400/Florence+and+Mary%252C+looking+at+photo.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I've said all that and shown all of that to make some point, I think...</div>
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1. I'm blessed, blessed, blessed with family - we all loved each other and still do.</div>
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It's a rich heritage and with that kind of gift, I offer it back to God who is the giver of all things - and I ask Him to use that gift for His glory. That's all that we can do with what we have.</div>
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2. Life is a vapor. Isn't it? Don't we all learn that? So brief - and then eternity.</div>
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We don't die. We live on forever, either with God or without Him. I know that to be so.</div>
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By His great mercies I am His - Only because His kindness led me to repentance. </div>
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There is nothing for us to do, but to live in Him - not hold tight to anything in this world - just to be His.</div>
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Okay - so - I spent lots of time that week with family, cousins, and laughter and remembering.</div>
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Then I visited friends in Tallassee and headed home.</div>
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After that, the next week, it was to the beach.</div>
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Charlie and I took Ann and her 4 while Steve was at Youth Camp.</div>
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We had fun - it was work - but it was fun.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfWtzB_QO2mjwEFVrNroQZKftgVxyn4HQ9-H7UWn_ra1j_xnUrFF7VuwlCjs-QgyHVDpRV6Wo8DoSolItUVp-i6MCDdqd7Fm_y40Q1oEfxtQAhW4FfgmJsz00CSBv5igveAaeSEY1evr8/s1600/3+at+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfWtzB_QO2mjwEFVrNroQZKftgVxyn4HQ9-H7UWn_ra1j_xnUrFF7VuwlCjs-QgyHVDpRV6Wo8DoSolItUVp-i6MCDdqd7Fm_y40Q1oEfxtQAhW4FfgmJsz00CSBv5igveAaeSEY1evr8/s400/3+at+beach.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsT34y71hb2VouvG1k9xssDqW7Sg8vm0lJjiKOzrpZFCDenQgMikQRu8cqzt8-9RL4cmfxRp9HkTAi17vA9imMQhtUwI384zEswGYydRhaBOPxujorw9_oTmXDGespdBNFWpu3wpCY2Lk/s1600/abigail+in+hat+on+sand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsT34y71hb2VouvG1k9xssDqW7Sg8vm0lJjiKOzrpZFCDenQgMikQRu8cqzt8-9RL4cmfxRp9HkTAi17vA9imMQhtUwI384zEswGYydRhaBOPxujorw9_oTmXDGespdBNFWpu3wpCY2Lk/s400/abigail+in+hat+on+sand.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9DxYFfcmVhgMbyIlHxgD7Q9ppff7-F2VP8zb9YxwURB9IGjNP1bmIQs2g21o73ozLIbXMbrvaEYnFCcl1Wk-NXVT83VVxWj3tCBDf8GC7IDmfMhvr5c5k2bUX-Dz6QqsReOubZ4U_czY/s1600/charlie+and+andrew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9DxYFfcmVhgMbyIlHxgD7Q9ppff7-F2VP8zb9YxwURB9IGjNP1bmIQs2g21o73ozLIbXMbrvaEYnFCcl1Wk-NXVT83VVxWj3tCBDf8GC7IDmfMhvr5c5k2bUX-Dz6QqsReOubZ4U_czY/s400/charlie+and+andrew.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOeuQK5ZlFuznwerfFxa45bJ2kTjTVEoTNgUfkdfW1uRdtD2lJbXEVXzt4HZr1COpdrnwNe5pdO7RSlhgcCWVP79G4zJRPIARvciJ6dBAS5xIJsE3OSbnRjYv2UGxCZDQaZTV94gOz0Ms/s1600/abigail+and+I.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOeuQK5ZlFuznwerfFxa45bJ2kTjTVEoTNgUfkdfW1uRdtD2lJbXEVXzt4HZr1COpdrnwNe5pdO7RSlhgcCWVP79G4zJRPIARvciJ6dBAS5xIJsE3OSbnRjYv2UGxCZDQaZTV94gOz0Ms/s400/abigail+and+I.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Abigail turned one while we were there.</div>
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June 27th.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieU_fjxdJLu-SdbtbiQH7fMQxrCC1MJMKscOrimZGhOBCYCykmhvK7nmBwMiOzjBS_1jUOCyzl10rr9pxOaLfFzemwmIy-9Sxhl_sQ0dPDqslQrpitxEdruXbIwfRVcM2iTJ-31htOaCk/s1600/abigail+and+birthday+candle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieU_fjxdJLu-SdbtbiQH7fMQxrCC1MJMKscOrimZGhOBCYCykmhvK7nmBwMiOzjBS_1jUOCyzl10rr9pxOaLfFzemwmIy-9Sxhl_sQ0dPDqslQrpitxEdruXbIwfRVcM2iTJ-31htOaCk/s400/abigail+and+birthday+candle.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And then it was back home.</div>
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Ann and Steve left the next week to go to Dallas</div>
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to a Missions Summit/Conference.</div>
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Charlie and I kept their 4 while they traveled. </div>
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I want to be able to explain how God is working and leading our church </div>
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to share the gospel to a people who live on the other side of the globe.</div>
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That will come later.</div>
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Today is today and we are enjoying rain.</div>
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We are very much enjoying rain.</div>
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I am also enjoying some projects - several furniture redos.</div>
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Perhaps I'll show those later when they are all done.</div>
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Join Pinterest. It's fun.</div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-85174140402528145932012-06-15T13:23:00.000-07:002012-06-15T13:23:01.638-07:00Again .......I read quite often in the blog world a lot of semi-apologies to cyberspace for not posting more often.<br />
<br />
When I do it, it feels a little like standing onstage in front of a "mike", in a big, empty auditorium and telling noone that "I'm sorry I haven't posted more often". <br />
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Isn't that weird?<br />
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So - hello out there, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">hello out there, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">hello out there, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;">hello out there .........</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"> </span>can you <strike>hear me</strike> read this?, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">can you <strike>hear me</strike> read this?, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">can you <strike>hear me</strike> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">read this, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee;">can you <strike>hear me</strike> read this?</span><br />
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Living has been extraordinarily full and zoom, zoom, zoom - much like the trees I saw while riding the train to New Orleans. That's right. Charlie and I had someone drive us to Birmingham on Monday May 28 - Memorial Day, actually - to the train station on Morris Avenue - and we rode the train to New Orleans - where Sarah picked us up at the NOLA train station. <br />
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So - when looking out the window of the train - the trees are often really close and they zoom by really fast. I do recommend the train for traveling, but take blankets or a jacket (collllldddddd) and a pillow for sleeping. Unfortunately, the Birmingham Station is not good. Every other depot we passed by was very nice and remodeled and updated, and the NOLA station is like new and like a nice air terminal. The Birmingham station is not at all pleasant. That is unfortunate.<br />
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Charlie and Sarah and I loaded Sarah's "things" onto a U Haul Truck and we all traveled back to Scottsboro, moving Sarah back home for a planned 7 months' stay before she relocates to Nashville. That's the plan.<br />
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What else? We immediately went into the next week of VBS at Riverside. I kept 11 month Abigail while Ann and her 3 attended VBS. That was the week I also got a rough kind of cold which was more in my throat than my head -<br />
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And in between those calendar events are things and thoughts and phone calls and conversations and plans and prayers and questions and summer heat and projects and listening and talking and relationships and tasks and having basal cell carcanoma removed from arm, and hair cuts and brow wax, and Ellie and Ann having head lice, and assignments and trips to Wal- Mart and Food World and the Post Office and meals and sleeping, or not sleeping, and, well,<br />
<br />
Pinterest<br />
Downton Abbey, Season One and Two<br />
Two Books, <u>I Capture the Castle</u> and <u>The Summer We Got Saved</u><br />
Tim Keller Pod Casts<br />
Tim Keller Pod Casts<br />
Tim Keller Pod Casts<br />
Tim Keller Pod Casts, repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat.<br />
<br />
And - on Sunday, Father's Day, after church and lunch, I am traveling to Birmingham to spend one night with my friend/cousin-in-law , Martha Robinson, and to also visit with our mutual friend, Val. Wait, I have a picture! It's from high school.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cbwjBV_OE-g/T9t0gSKOxNI/AAAAAAAAPLs/7wXdeQXx9nU/s1600/Martha,+Val+and+I+circa+1969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cbwjBV_OE-g/T9t0gSKOxNI/AAAAAAAAPLs/7wXdeQXx9nU/s400/Martha,+Val+and+I+circa+1969.jpg" width="286" /></a></div>
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We're sitting in my kitchen sharing what looks to be a TAB, forerunner to Diet Coke.</div>
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Left to Right, Elizabeth, Martha and Val.</div>
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I think that is 1968, fallish, I think.</div>
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And 43 years later,</div>
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last summer when Charlie invited them to come up</div>
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for my surprise dinner when I turned 60.</div>
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That is Sarah and Martha on my couch. </div>
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We laughed a WHOLE lot that night.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lq-J8HGLCQ0/T9uLDoBRkoI/AAAAAAAAPL4/MicJBhr8bFs/s1600/martha+and+Sarah+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lq-J8HGLCQ0/T9uLDoBRkoI/AAAAAAAAPL4/MicJBhr8bFs/s400/martha+and+Sarah+2011.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And Val, working with her camera</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HeLsLo0A6Jo/T9uLGAAsr-I/AAAAAAAAPMA/I1tMojb3EJc/s1600/Val+looking+down+at+camera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HeLsLo0A6Jo/T9uLGAAsr-I/AAAAAAAAPMA/I1tMojb3EJc/s400/Val+looking+down+at+camera.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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Mary Ann was also at my surprise party so I might as well put this picture in.</div>
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Here, she and Martha are chatting.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xSzHlC7EwlQ/T9uMUcU5FkI/AAAAAAAAPMI/shINWsm8M6Q/s1600/mary+ann+and+martha+talking+7:2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xSzHlC7EwlQ/T9uMUcU5FkI/AAAAAAAAPMI/shINWsm8M6Q/s400/mary+ann+and+martha+talking+7:2011.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I say that because I am going to Evergreen (South Alabama), after I leave Birmingham on Monday.</div>
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I will spend Monday Night through Thursday Night there in Evergreen, at Mary Ann's house - I will see family and friends...... oh, delight!</div>
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I hope to return to Scottboro via Tallassee, Alabama so that I can have a good visit with my friend, Beth Baldwin. She doesn't know that yet and I am waiting for a call back from her.</div>
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I called in the middle of her last day of VBS in Tallassee. </div>
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She is a professional VBS'er. I am NOT. I am SO NOT.</div>
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She's gonna call me back.</div>
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That's it. </div>
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Anyone reading this, well, you can see why I haven't posted a whole lot.</div>
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Oh yeah, I was gonna throw in two summers from my past - way back.</div>
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The me inside and what I'd rather be doing.</div>
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If I could I would hang like that from a bar. I think it would help.</div>
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The blood rushing to my head, </div>
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while a really sweet and good friend stood next to me for emotional support.</div>
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Still, at age 61, this is a very good life.</div>
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It's just that 6 and 7 work better on the me inside.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OOszUbE5U1M/T9uWHG5hINI/AAAAAAAAPMU/sd1rqRYgJls/s1600/susan+and+elizabeth++july+1957.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OOszUbE5U1M/T9uWHG5hINI/AAAAAAAAPMU/sd1rqRYgJls/s320/susan+and+elizabeth++july+1957.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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And the sun and the salt water and Rachel, my sweet, sweet cousin nearby, and Mother and my Aunt and whomever having our meals prepared. My life was a SPA!!</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M7fn8szqXK8/T9uWT9-EKSI/AAAAAAAAPMc/Pi0MJ_fnPQw/s1600/Rachel,+Elizabeth+Innerarity+Beach,+1958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M7fn8szqXK8/T9uWT9-EKSI/AAAAAAAAPMc/Pi0MJ_fnPQw/s320/Rachel,+Elizabeth+Innerarity+Beach,+1958.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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THE END</div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-12455417710448094772012-05-27T06:10:00.000-07:002012-05-27T06:10:05.583-07:00I Copied These from Kate Rhodes<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: 'courier new', monospace;">Kate put these quotes from C.S. Lewis on her blog. <a href="http://theliliesofthefield.tumblr.com/">http://theliliesofthefield.tumblr.com/</a> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: 'courier new', monospace;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: 'courier new', monospace;">“Remember He is the artist and you are only the picture. You can’t see it. So quietly submit to be painted—-i.e., keep fulfilling all the obvious duties of your station (you really know quite well enough what they are!), asking forgiveness for each failure and then leaving it alone.You are in the right way. Walk—-don’t keep on looking at it.” </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: 'courier new', monospace;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> ― C.S. Lewis</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: 'courier new', monospace;">“In friendship…we think we have chosen our peers. In reality a few years’ difference in the dates of our births, a few more miles between certain houses, the choice of one university instead of another…the accident of a topic being raised or not raised at a first meeting—any of these chances might have kept us apart. But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking no chances. A secret master of ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples, “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,” can truly say to every group of Christian friends, “Ye have not chosen one another but I have chosen you for one another.” The friendship is not a reward for our discriminating and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each of us the beauties of others.”</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> ― C.S. Lewis</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: 'courier new', monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Jesus Christ did not suffer so that you would not suffer. He suffered so that when you suffer, you’ll become more like him. The gospel does not promise you better life circumstances; it promises you a better life.</span></span></h2>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">— Tim Keller</span></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-71460171230964097762012-05-24T05:48:00.000-07:002012-05-24T05:48:16.253-07:00RecipeI made this on Tuesday. It was delicious. I found it on Pinterest. Sharing it here.<br />
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I know there are a lot of these out there and many of you might have your own version - or this same one - but I loved it. It's a first cousin to the Seven or Eight Layered Salad - the one that has green peas and chopped veggies and cheese and mayo and bacon.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Southwestern Chicken and Cornbread Salad</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ingredients</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">6 cornbread muffins, very dry, coarsely crumbled, divided</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 (2.25 ounce) can sliced ripe olives drained</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 (16 ounce) can pinto beans, rinsed and drained</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 (11 ounce) can whole kernel sweet corn, drained</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 cup Hidden Valley® Spicy Ranch Dressing, divided</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 cup bell pepper, diced, assorted colors</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">2 chicken breasts, grilled*</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1/2 cup red onion, diced</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1 cup tomatoes, seeded and diced</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1/2 cup Cheddar cheese, shredded</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b>Directions</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In large clear salad bowl or trifle dish, layer half of the cornbread followed by the can of olives, the can of pintos, and the can of corn. Top with 1/2 cup of the dressing. Layer with the chopped bell pepper, the chicken, the diced onion, the diced tomatoes, and then the remaining cornbread and remaining dressing. Sprinkle with cheese. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Cover with saran wrap and refrigerate several hours or overnight.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My added comments. I NEVER EVER use bottled Ranch Dressing. I don't like it because I know that the original version made with the packet and the buttermilk (NOT the kind where you add milk) and good mayo (Helman's) is so very much better. I had some fresh in the refrig so I used my mixed version.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Also - I don't have a large clear bowl or a trifle dish. I used a large opaque bowl. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One other thing. I'm always afraid that one making won't be enough. I doubled it. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I thought Ann and her family would be joining Charlie, Kate and I - but they didn't.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Still, the next day it was delicious - so I was very glad to have leftovers.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When the recipe is doubled it's a very large salad.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Other thing - it was more labor intensive than I had planned. I had to make the cornbread. Didn't just have it on hand. and...all the hand chopping. I did not use my food processor to chop. And the thorough draining of those cans of beans and corn - I didn't want added liquid.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Also - the seeding and dicing of the tomato - still - it was very worth it. I started too late in the afternoon. I would recommend having the ingredients on hand and making it early in the day. Or day before. And have an empty dishwasher so you can throw all of that in there and not have to hand wash a LOT of bowls and utensils. </span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Anyway - this was super duper in my book.</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>One other thing - I had grilled chicken left from the night before. One could purchase a Rotisserie Chicken at the grocery store - or just leave out the chicken and it would still be a hearty salad. </i> </span></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-73293125369391368322012-05-17T07:08:00.000-07:002012-05-17T07:08:45.822-07:00Okay, I Don't Know Where to Start, Nor How to Title This PostSo - I just titled it with that admission and this whole post will be an admission of sorts - or a disclosure about myself.<br />
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I am going to share something rather quirky about myself - odd - yet it feels perfectly normal and natural to me.<br />
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The idea to post about this came to me on Monday after I had bought new makeup. I had to make myself throw away the packaging after I took the makeup out of the boxes. <br />
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It's Estee Lauder and I save the packaging and the empty bottles and other containers. <br />
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I do. See for yourself.<br />
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I have not always done this.</div>
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The idea came to me a few years ago when I experienced that little thrill of getting new makeup.</div>
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I love the packaging. I love the containers. So I decided I'd just keep them.</div>
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And when I'm done with the product - when I've used it all - I thoroughly clean out the container - getting rid of all makeup residue or cream residue or whatever the residue is - </div>
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and I return the empty vessel to it's box. </div>
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Does the reader find this odd?</div>
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Ann realized I was doing this, shortly after she moved back to Scottsboro from Albuquerque.</div>
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She asked me, "Mom, when you die, what are we supposed to do with your empty Estee Lauder containers?" I told her to throw them away.</div>
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On Monday when I MADE myself throw away the boxes, I felt a tug of regret.</div>
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Yet I felt I didn't really need to hoard these pretty blue boxes.</div>
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I did thoroughly clean out the powder container and I washed the puff.</div>
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That's it. That's my quirky habit. I enjoy it.</div>
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I began using Estee Lauder in 1973 and have used it on and off since then, depending on my age and spendable income. Now that I'm 61 and my skin is showing results of my abuse in the sun, I definitely use it. The only other makeup that I've been as satisfied with is Mary Kay. I really really liked it.</div>
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But I like Estee Lauder the best.</div>
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My skin might be better if I had indulged in their skin care products. I did for a while, but the damage had been done and it was just too expensive. I now just use their makeup for cover up and enjoy what samples they share with me.</div>
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What if I'd been saving the packaging and containers since 1973? That would be really crazy!</div>
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<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-8052515110575734642012-05-16T07:09:00.000-07:002012-05-16T07:09:24.901-07:00Halfway Through May. Can You Believe It?To the some 20 odd people who still might read my blog.... if that many...., I'm going to post something.<br />
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I promise my life is so full - but just not blog worthy. Correction - actually, I think any life is blog worthy - the daily tasks and dealing with them - they are reality - and I do find the details fascinating and listening to someone tell them - but to put all of it into words, creatively - well - it's a challenge.<br />
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I do teach an art class on Wednesday nights at church. So - I took pictures and am about to post them.<br />
There are a lot. I don't think I will narrate - there are just so many. Feel free to comment with questions. <i>(I ended up narrating toward the bottom of the post)</i><br />
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The Art Show was on Wednesday May 9, 2012 - last Wednesday. The children are from grade 1 through 6. Wide age range for abilities and skills - but we get it done - thanks to the internet. There are some great blogs out there by professional Art Teachers of Children. I have about 2 or 3 which are my favorite. I use the projects which they share with the world.<br />
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THE RIVERSIDE COMMUNITY CHURCH ART SHOW</div>
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TA DAH! <i>or</i> DRUM ROLL! <i>or</i> MUSIC INTRO!</div>
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Below are pictures I took of the children finishing up some work they'd begun.</div>
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I love to see them at work. So intent on what they are doing.</div>
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And if you live in Scottsboro, and are curious about the inside of the not very typical church building, on Broad St., which houses our body of believers,</div>
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well, here are some not very good photos I took.</div>
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We've just recently spruced up the sanctuary, below, but this picture doesn't do it justice.</div>
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It now has a new warm and cozy feeling. I love it.</div>
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Sad you can't see it in this picture.</div>
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Below is the art room, leading into the sanctuary.</div>
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Across the sanctuary is the door leading to the kitchen.</div>
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Below is from Steve's perspective or anyone's perspective if they are standing behind our little black podium. In the way way back is all the audio stuff. Our audio guys sit back there.</div>
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See the round white spot at the very back. That's a very large clock.</div>
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I think that's for Steve. I never think he goes too long, but he is kind of known for that.</div>
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I'm usually so into his very very gifted bible teaching that I don't even notice it's gotten late.</div>
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I don't notice it's long until his son, Luke, whispers to me, "Is Daddy almost finished?"</div>
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Cute.</div>
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There. I've finally done a new post.</div>
<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-36203187512046059242012-04-25T08:03:00.001-07:002012-04-25T09:01:31.711-07:00April Is Ending and May Is Upon Us<br />
Ann and I walked this morning. We've been rather consistent - walking at 5:45 in her neighborhood - so many good, steep hills. <br />
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Our conversation went to how the days speed past us. Time speeds by. Each individual day is very present and then it's a vapor. The days are lost in my memory. <br />
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Already my oldest grandchild is seven. Ellie's birthday was yesterday. For that reason Laura Beth is traveling to Scottsboro today with John and Ada. Ada is invited to a very small sleepover on Friday night at Ellie's house. Ellie will have 3 young guests - 3 little girls. Charlie and I will have Luke, Andrew and John spend the night with us on Friday night. Looks like we'll have our own spend the night party.<br />
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This picture was taken yesterday at my house.</div>
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Ann with her girls, Ellie (7) and Abigail (10 mo.)</div>
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Speaking of time going by so fast,</div>
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I've been going through old photos that Charlie brought back from his mother's house </div>
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when they moved her from Pensacola to Atlanta.</div>
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I ran across these pictures taken of our house in November 1994, </div>
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after we had moved in during the month of August 1994.</div>
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That was 18 years ago.</div>
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Look at how bare everything was.</div>
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So I went outside yesterday to take pictures of our house right now.</div>
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April 2012.</div>
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What a different 18 years of growth makes.</div>
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that's all.</div>
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Just needed to put up a new post.</div>
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I have lots of projects to work on.</div>
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I moved them all to my back porch on Monday </div>
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to get them out of my garage and right where I'll be reminded to get them done.</div>
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It all involves stripping and priming and painting.</div>
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I love projects, now that it's warm outside.</div>
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<br />Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-75221136845325547692012-04-18T04:51:00.000-07:002012-04-18T04:51:14.793-07:00The Reason Kate and I Were in Evergreen.....is because my sister is President of the UMW.<br />
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and.....<br />
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she gets speakers for their monthly meetings. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRGvhwQ8XNon6j2JeyGl8_y7mT6b_-xhfpOMbOBsYYGAgd4hV5on73diBuHEKiJbvBEbZhGOIuYuKOE0lCSLfiKapqHJZSV3ngEsp5UBa85YWyYygDmLbTtNkskv8iSCNlpw0ReujBiZU/s1600/IMG_5308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRGvhwQ8XNon6j2JeyGl8_y7mT6b_-xhfpOMbOBsYYGAgd4hV5on73diBuHEKiJbvBEbZhGOIuYuKOE0lCSLfiKapqHJZSV3ngEsp5UBa85YWyYygDmLbTtNkskv8iSCNlpw0ReujBiZU/s400/IMG_5308.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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What is UMW? United Methodist Women.<br />
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It's a classic. There used to also be different groups within the church and they were called circles. They had names attached to them - like - The Nellie Newton Circle - The Ada Henderson Circle.<br />
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I know for a fact that The Ada Henderson Circle lives on, because Mary Ann is a part of that one. I'm not sure what the original purpose was - because there was always the Methodist Womens' Group - I guess there is still The Nellie Newton Cirlce also. I don't know.<br />
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Ada Henderson is the name of my great grandmother. I've just always heard her name with that particular circle. I don't think I know who Nellie Newton was. <br />
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Back to our trip - Kate was the speaker for this month's meeting of the UMW. Mary Ann asked her to tell how she came to trust Christ and believe in Him and walk with Him and also to tell about her work in RUF, which is Reformed University Fellowship. Kate is an intern with that campus ministry, on the campus of Wake Forest University in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. So - we drove down to Evergreen for that. It was a delightful salad luncheon and fellowship with ladies I've known for a long, long time - and also those who are new to me. <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And so it was over. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Kate and I drove around Evergreen, seeing old houses and neighborhoods, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">before we went back to Mary Ann's house to get our bags.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Then up, up, up to the top of the state in Jackson County.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">All the way up on Sand Mountain, and then down into this pretty valley where sits Scottsboro.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Over the bridge and we're home.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Charlie had the house so neat and straight - and with it being dusk, the outdoor lights were on.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Good to be home.</div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-30488180150754356462012-04-16T17:10:00.000-07:002012-04-16T17:10:08.378-07:00One more spring in South Alabama<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I'm here - again - </span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">One more spring in <strike>Minnesota,</strike> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">South Alabama,</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">To come upon <strike>Lake Wobegon.</strike> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Evergreen.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">Old town I smell your coffee.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">If I could see you one more time --</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">I can't stay, you know, I left so long ago,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">I'm just a stranger with memories of people I knew here.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">We stand around, looking at the ground.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">You're the stories I've told for years and years.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">That yard, the tree -- you climbed it once with me,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">And we talked of cities that we'd live in someday.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">I left, old friend, and now I'm back again,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">Please say you missed me since I went away.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">One more time that dance together,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">Just you and I now, don't be shy.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">This time I know I'd hear the music</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">If I could hold you one more time.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">--Garrison Keillor</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Kate and I drove down yesterday, Sunday afternoon.</div><div style="text-align: center;">So glad to be here. It's been a while.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's no secret I love my roots - those sights and sounds and smells and places and people who shaped me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Family, Friends, Failures and Successes.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Laughing, Talking, Crying, Gasping, Exclaiming.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Loving, Hating, Learning, Knowing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">As Kate and I got into the heart of South Alabama, which I say is just above Montgomery - I felt my breathing change. My heart lifted a bit. My soul relaxed. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Just so the reader will know, I shift back to another kind of homecoming when I get on Sand Mtn., around Rainsville - I'm going to what I know in Scottsboro, AL - what is present and real and what has shaped my adult life - married to my dear, loved and loving, and faithful Charlie - Always there to catch me in my breakdowns, always there to hear about my visits home to Evergreen - to know my lackings and my strengths - I get into North Alabama where I have been blessed with a life of loving my four girls from birth to now - where I receive my grandchildren and hug and kiss them and nurture them and my family and friends, my <strike>weeds</strike> grass, my flowers, my trees, my yard, my daily living - I love home, wherever it is.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">But Evergreen is where I am/was a child and I am vulnerable and known. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I can hear Mother and Daddy's laughter and rhythms and steady paces, and there are ghosts here of my childhood - I think it's the longing we all have for our true home - eternal. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. Ecclesiastes 3:11</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">and</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Now we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house, not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For now we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, if indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened, not that we should be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. 2 Corinthians 5: 1 - 5</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>(knowing this scripture is about being clothed in His Life and His Righteousness and His redemption, but He did say, "I go to prepare a place for you" and it is my true home)</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Evergreen Images, What I've Always Seen</div><div style="text-align: center;">Mixed with Images of my Present Life - my children and grandchildren.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFVZrs1z_4Zmjp8Dt_LGR3Vh-nZutoGEdIsXiid1JRoTieRIAUZZqEcEhphQscFmYBFeqq-WPoah-ZffzdelEVx8s8gUi8TT-gRXdCMZ-xVNPD-8GVdZgRywBW5XSgT7tIWo-qRapM95g/s1600/IMG_5241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFVZrs1z_4Zmjp8Dt_LGR3Vh-nZutoGEdIsXiid1JRoTieRIAUZZqEcEhphQscFmYBFeqq-WPoah-ZffzdelEVx8s8gUi8TT-gRXdCMZ-xVNPD-8GVdZgRywBW5XSgT7tIWo-qRapM95g/s400/IMG_5241.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Grandmother's - excuse me - Mary Ann's Marble Table</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Always the Music</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggFZaUp9bY-sheQ7pkweXJkAyFVZRDNW1v4PYSMrmbGBfy-iBGImiJOgJZD-QcVvDk-VVC7XRCsiuMBrDpbvM8O2GDGcSUpfVE12mM_gmF2Ff0RDqELItbCZD-iVk6A3ZkzgJsPtL-ZX8/s1600/IMG_5246.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggFZaUp9bY-sheQ7pkweXJkAyFVZRDNW1v4PYSMrmbGBfy-iBGImiJOgJZD-QcVvDk-VVC7XRCsiuMBrDpbvM8O2GDGcSUpfVE12mM_gmF2Ff0RDqELItbCZD-iVk6A3ZkzgJsPtL-ZX8/s400/IMG_5246.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The Clock from Troy(daddy's home).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It chimed every hour and half hour.</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Grandmother's Music Stand.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH8LSNZG_YUWxS7xfLIw4E631jFqLQ2eWDKVOuH_3oaPyjcXwDIFvwoY_bmBpE02LRSUaKz1tg2_m9H4zQlTWCdaNNriyKw6dqeqjfrrvBeeKn4NOcckDgklaDGCdGb2nosFPRdO8Ulmk/s1600/IMG_5251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH8LSNZG_YUWxS7xfLIw4E631jFqLQ2eWDKVOuH_3oaPyjcXwDIFvwoY_bmBpE02LRSUaKz1tg2_m9H4zQlTWCdaNNriyKw6dqeqjfrrvBeeKn4NOcckDgklaDGCdGb2nosFPRdO8Ulmk/s400/IMG_5251.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Grandmother's Portrait, she was sixteen.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQ3Dr4LqRUBigQ84eCrx6z5KALr3oCTbdhHimyADQ9G1YEpr9Xu89ZDzAnb5JGlfzA8RqBRVE8-1QPn0zk4584qYdXOS5n9z2yuO8NQDFlvjfaF3E1tRhNWhVvotFCKA4K3aay36-cu0/s1600/IMG_5252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQ3Dr4LqRUBigQ84eCrx6z5KALr3oCTbdhHimyADQ9G1YEpr9Xu89ZDzAnb5JGlfzA8RqBRVE8-1QPn0zk4584qYdXOS5n9z2yuO8NQDFlvjfaF3E1tRhNWhVvotFCKA4K3aay36-cu0/s400/IMG_5252.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Where Mother used to sit, in her room.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Her Spot.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUQ5ThrrYTLXdWyIs4luEoXcFnNnOet8mI9-wgwo4p6HIkejz-s6bDltC8y_EkfoAlHRLue0A8DCC_W4UFmbEvoh8K3f6Ow7yjM9orVCwce8htEkMgthgO2zo-i31xvEo3ItOMftWH834/s1600/IMG_5254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUQ5ThrrYTLXdWyIs4luEoXcFnNnOet8mI9-wgwo4p6HIkejz-s6bDltC8y_EkfoAlHRLue0A8DCC_W4UFmbEvoh8K3f6Ow7yjM9orVCwce8htEkMgthgO2zo-i31xvEo3ItOMftWH834/s400/IMG_5254.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Portraits of my children, framed in old frames.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5_svYX4CfeOloOf6Jj0h7xFnJXT_n4p9LeyhL89o2aERaSksbKB0OvttJ-iT2ED7RLIFETYF4Qnf2bW_CXXJT5HnNzY_UUebT_6oxLPzJ5CqgqtN51xwlqF4XrlzDkm8nNhF9QIFryjc/s1600/IMG_5258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5_svYX4CfeOloOf6Jj0h7xFnJXT_n4p9LeyhL89o2aERaSksbKB0OvttJ-iT2ED7RLIFETYF4Qnf2bW_CXXJT5HnNzY_UUebT_6oxLPzJ5CqgqtN51xwlqF4XrlzDkm8nNhF9QIFryjc/s400/IMG_5258.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjjg4CBYbGGUm7tmesbUupcxMloVKJje_C1TIokRJ1Kx69rCMX91HEuWXJRS7WsrBWqZGAkSKtQm-kAyJ8Cd2X1DUN0ZQPCOm3lfHndaOghLd9HIendoM1nG1QP7HjjxZHZtStai2j8c/s1600/IMG_5259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjjg4CBYbGGUm7tmesbUupcxMloVKJje_C1TIokRJ1Kx69rCMX91HEuWXJRS7WsrBWqZGAkSKtQm-kAyJ8Cd2X1DUN0ZQPCOm3lfHndaOghLd9HIendoM1nG1QP7HjjxZHZtStai2j8c/s400/IMG_5259.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mary Ann's house which once was home to another Evergreen Family.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE8rEXblmUOu1nAisNUk4i0ObAb0KnCs-9LD3tIQZHrpNPL2ApCn-eTvNIE90tTdEqyEIStBFwKwlkUmS9eIoIqgzic5Nnp-Az5Qq6khe_8dETYMq3alZXF-d3WcAPrkKQ3XbZWHVKmWs/s1600/IMG_5261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE8rEXblmUOu1nAisNUk4i0ObAb0KnCs-9LD3tIQZHrpNPL2ApCn-eTvNIE90tTdEqyEIStBFwKwlkUmS9eIoIqgzic5Nnp-Az5Qq6khe_8dETYMq3alZXF-d3WcAPrkKQ3XbZWHVKmWs/s400/IMG_5261.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">More musical images, always.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTXAyPTI8FPuVW0LkmM0yTGHQw-WcvxIIoyE1WGetsu6GGM2WreWoK5A6z0b8L9oI_3AYOI7Eo4vbQoX7JqypLRnHRTLjf82aPbeBWASwEEYV-vhQGKTUpC6RDJh-nYi70MEy3Za-NZ9A/s1600/IMG_5262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTXAyPTI8FPuVW0LkmM0yTGHQw-WcvxIIoyE1WGetsu6GGM2WreWoK5A6z0b8L9oI_3AYOI7Eo4vbQoX7JqypLRnHRTLjf82aPbeBWASwEEYV-vhQGKTUpC6RDJh-nYi70MEy3Za-NZ9A/s400/IMG_5262.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This Picasso - from his "Blue Period".</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mother and Daddy were young, newly married and wanted to "collect art".</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9Uej0jTjbRdLAw-CGlOl2ALfxf8iGmLXSZp8d03UQy8nqlSpdLa-ZBVgJuWsh3npMViX7kbo_XChjvUX3xhmkuC89fJ0m30OJfBWMOosaapedOzoUQY3k-Hmwno84_tmaJnt6G-JodM/s1600/IMG_5263.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9Uej0jTjbRdLAw-CGlOl2ALfxf8iGmLXSZp8d03UQy8nqlSpdLa-ZBVgJuWsh3npMViX7kbo_XChjvUX3xhmkuC89fJ0m30OJfBWMOosaapedOzoUQY3k-Hmwno84_tmaJnt6G-JodM/s400/IMG_5263.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr2PBMFMk7Dnr3TAJviYm-iBYlIDNjbFSVepKasEgFiNaS7Z3tLRSvo3O_Qk1Bm0tXhmiDyB9YgODjbnHQWoWWpTRmd-q6t61zGda1UFmxlRzeq8WahrgsnECl1b_GHRenKa8iOtiU3RA/s1600/IMG_5264.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr2PBMFMk7Dnr3TAJviYm-iBYlIDNjbFSVepKasEgFiNaS7Z3tLRSvo3O_Qk1Bm0tXhmiDyB9YgODjbnHQWoWWpTRmd-q6t61zGda1UFmxlRzeq8WahrgsnECl1b_GHRenKa8iOtiU3RA/s400/IMG_5264.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsW6ZkHMzAOFszT6ZvQ_-7mTtyPYwR62fdL9LUYDjuLTuO2pet38KdB10Skc60Oxc88aifk-r4G-wRvMTxOW35rIwBlYiswvM345FaRFqmvU4td4KtDaFy-3Kjf3yXqOehMZ_szhnnv0/s1600/IMG_5266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsW6ZkHMzAOFszT6ZvQ_-7mTtyPYwR62fdL9LUYDjuLTuO2pet38KdB10Skc60Oxc88aifk-r4G-wRvMTxOW35rIwBlYiswvM345FaRFqmvU4td4KtDaFy-3Kjf3yXqOehMZ_szhnnv0/s400/IMG_5266.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Grandmother's pastel from her Judson College days.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirM0N_ewuSOQ6msjcyyNZPeRaq6CeGHoEgOT35zdneZ8BhKvNXULYlbPNXgnX9vkEYltYjR0rPWY4Fu6YCmPRTSx8NB2kSXP_nUiFRc_s0eA1jCEKCL8WBI-xlmcNn2eBijrA0XPA9PJ4/s1600/IMG_5267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirM0N_ewuSOQ6msjcyyNZPeRaq6CeGHoEgOT35zdneZ8BhKvNXULYlbPNXgnX9vkEYltYjR0rPWY4Fu6YCmPRTSx8NB2kSXP_nUiFRc_s0eA1jCEKCL8WBI-xlmcNn2eBijrA0XPA9PJ4/s400/IMG_5267.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mother always said these houses reminded her of her grandmother's house.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They called her Mama Sally.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIE6OignXHQQVQd_V44MUtHRnnq4nmTo6xIGWOpil9B3jB9oNLexwHTFXu67psyjHon-mfdg-IWd8cMz04vYypiR4_Qui0GqfJNKRinHM20kTdJtUA7LIVXyW-KHLWQYvUbQWCRuxIok/s1600/IMG_5269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIE6OignXHQQVQd_V44MUtHRnnq4nmTo6xIGWOpil9B3jB9oNLexwHTFXu67psyjHon-mfdg-IWd8cMz04vYypiR4_Qui0GqfJNKRinHM20kTdJtUA7LIVXyW-KHLWQYvUbQWCRuxIok/s400/IMG_5269.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My Daddy as a very young man. He looks 14 or 15 to me.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tPdgsleJ_ySBPqca-C5JEml0SuwU4RhbQJlWMKqRHVef1hGyQI8J6ToRqjMNLRLxhMyXvqfwkEIwohlQCf2kZ5OgZ1Z-jCbpkfD8qA9zgV5pK3dcv27K73d-iqoMz3qnGtIfhyaJm60/s1600/IMG_5270.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tPdgsleJ_ySBPqca-C5JEml0SuwU4RhbQJlWMKqRHVef1hGyQI8J6ToRqjMNLRLxhMyXvqfwkEIwohlQCf2kZ5OgZ1Z-jCbpkfD8qA9zgV5pK3dcv27K73d-iqoMz3qnGtIfhyaJm60/s400/IMG_5270.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mother's silhouette.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2pehD4sANZJ8u8jcxpuVYk5GF2tHkj1dRp7gNdPZSp2gt7nulfwhkah4n3CimZ4ItmDWo36C67T0SkKiazayJOsDvm6-TQRL_m8tx8-ibG_yMAzDmuPzYSWqLqxlu9h7DWfJ5t3SydqA/s1600/IMG_5271.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2pehD4sANZJ8u8jcxpuVYk5GF2tHkj1dRp7gNdPZSp2gt7nulfwhkah4n3CimZ4ItmDWo36C67T0SkKiazayJOsDvm6-TQRL_m8tx8-ibG_yMAzDmuPzYSWqLqxlu9h7DWfJ5t3SydqA/s400/IMG_5271.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And then we went to visit my aunt, Mary.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyiN7Pj6okDmV0_KOTfuQH-qAA54j9-yt3_TkBmnT_tWygrr82rm9z363bcIiDa1NFUHt1iZ6PkEGtE2JoDt879l0P1UTiozspnfDILIyFh-bcopuefGLsPOhO3xly29k3uBUoL-3bVpc/s1600/IMG_5273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyiN7Pj6okDmV0_KOTfuQH-qAA54j9-yt3_TkBmnT_tWygrr82rm9z363bcIiDa1NFUHt1iZ6PkEGtE2JoDt879l0P1UTiozspnfDILIyFh-bcopuefGLsPOhO3xly29k3uBUoL-3bVpc/s400/IMG_5273.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and her daughter, Melissa - my cousin.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLyOcbX7oEC1FI-hxnpcD0J6yfUZA7x7wwcvi8B8Cl9GSDRnNzab3ngpa0yCpYe00SLSrXOcNFgXnUziO66mKXoqwmSNKm5l0R46RBwxeiAlV-AsTReneZXyrS7S8MchRR7rWNAPFYao/s1600/IMG_5274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLyOcbX7oEC1FI-hxnpcD0J6yfUZA7x7wwcvi8B8Cl9GSDRnNzab3ngpa0yCpYe00SLSrXOcNFgXnUziO66mKXoqwmSNKm5l0R46RBwxeiAlV-AsTReneZXyrS7S8MchRR7rWNAPFYao/s400/IMG_5274.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We sat around their kitchen table.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They were asking Kate all about what she's doing now.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCFV_1vdAcGdHMNZf2hkrntWuUuC4_steDVbPJbTvZim30DK_V6NGbRfsF3t3fZfIoPv73kn3Of2edZ7AC4gx8RNgGHzOuvTUr2gtbNjBNd-esyADRaIeqOMgUMka3Xo0pNA3GD4gHdhI/s1600/IMG_5275.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCFV_1vdAcGdHMNZf2hkrntWuUuC4_steDVbPJbTvZim30DK_V6NGbRfsF3t3fZfIoPv73kn3Of2edZ7AC4gx8RNgGHzOuvTUr2gtbNjBNd-esyADRaIeqOMgUMka3Xo0pNA3GD4gHdhI/s400/IMG_5275.jpg" width="363" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg57VrNUBAO-J9SIwtiMRiSv16bh9cxSSOFB0vR-5v6a0TeBB3-WteefxAWyBhiq13Z7SlHbG7mWljPttmcl406znaPDbUjAjz16eyxfy4qYdrzJ4Dq3g3Ks42fOuYm_i-s2xbs1UX9wpc/s1600/IMG_5279.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg57VrNUBAO-J9SIwtiMRiSv16bh9cxSSOFB0vR-5v6a0TeBB3-WteefxAWyBhiq13Z7SlHbG7mWljPttmcl406znaPDbUjAjz16eyxfy4qYdrzJ4Dq3g3Ks42fOuYm_i-s2xbs1UX9wpc/s400/IMG_5279.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdE4OfXmNtqXzdFqJnxTtCEn-vURBfovPObNOhJKenAS6Io9hfEORxsVk6BiL_KDIRjGeocXOJ7K__cRU6JeDO3klUFYscmV-jJ1ebYJLZ_VgaD5U8jrpqzIiah85XvcDt2zmWoT-eEkA/s1600/IMG_5280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdE4OfXmNtqXzdFqJnxTtCEn-vURBfovPObNOhJKenAS6Io9hfEORxsVk6BiL_KDIRjGeocXOJ7K__cRU6JeDO3klUFYscmV-jJ1ebYJLZ_VgaD5U8jrpqzIiah85XvcDt2zmWoT-eEkA/s400/IMG_5280.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">While they asked all about that, I meandered around Mary and John Law's house, getting some photos.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This oil portrait done for Mary and John Law of their son, Jim, who lived only 4 sweet, precious, adorable years. 1955 - 1959.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCRJ9fSromI_MVQLrxo_yZ-MVJZIVmaafWKuh-OZKwcozgW8s6IsWQXpnQtyqDfKM01lPI2Lu8CVJCo8F8b3Eg1DYNlu4eJvgVUA8D6j04JIbDF6af4pAAVXOI6e2X1Nq_9kzibHvirL8/s1600/IMG_5283.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCRJ9fSromI_MVQLrxo_yZ-MVJZIVmaafWKuh-OZKwcozgW8s6IsWQXpnQtyqDfKM01lPI2Lu8CVJCo8F8b3Eg1DYNlu4eJvgVUA8D6j04JIbDF6af4pAAVXOI6e2X1Nq_9kzibHvirL8/s400/IMG_5283.jpg" width="266" /></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;">Portraits of Melissa and Mary Claire. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My youngest female cousins, Mary's 2 daughters.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Melissa is a Caterer and below......</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBUvvaWzEth6Et9NNEUE7Tkv5jTv-N64tgYkV_JcRGggeXXUhtNCpEJn8rnk6F0rJ6SmdWP-7y06IC5AqOYOAe4rY-CaobsJMsyoZDPdmOoFpJYlvmAr9DF75e-midNo2NijSKart2gZs/s1600/IMG_5286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBUvvaWzEth6Et9NNEUE7Tkv5jTv-N64tgYkV_JcRGggeXXUhtNCpEJn8rnk6F0rJ6SmdWP-7y06IC5AqOYOAe4rY-CaobsJMsyoZDPdmOoFpJYlvmAr9DF75e-midNo2NijSKart2gZs/s400/IMG_5286.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">.......is the kitchen where she prepares her meals and dishes and treats.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Her homemade rolls.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6-9_Jk9um1ikIFERgXxc7jSZOmWJF4uZFYh4SmYedTb3nxwh9Fg0rfT7mWy3Y5tp9WB87dRXj4z9cYqihifkxYJ9MJ4Cs_bEOD5AT3W4UYvhJGC9JXq8bhma4DPsrOwcgXFXahFr1Xeo/s1600/IMG_5290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6-9_Jk9um1ikIFERgXxc7jSZOmWJF4uZFYh4SmYedTb3nxwh9Fg0rfT7mWy3Y5tp9WB87dRXj4z9cYqihifkxYJ9MJ4Cs_bEOD5AT3W4UYvhJGC9JXq8bhma4DPsrOwcgXFXahFr1Xeo/s400/IMG_5290.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mary's baby grand piano.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">again, the music.</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQqFXJmYjxN-_XvP2McmlffJ8LXB4oRcPS-afMVTKTLLItFVUu39-kZ5JtmjlGL07s0hagaKPx1B0kIrX6U7OL9nlVuHA0hzjNIb7t7ZTJ6oP81DNLcqTlnA15g1MboOc2vr5BQQuTYUU/s1600/IMG_5292.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQqFXJmYjxN-_XvP2McmlffJ8LXB4oRcPS-afMVTKTLLItFVUu39-kZ5JtmjlGL07s0hagaKPx1B0kIrX6U7OL9nlVuHA0hzjNIb7t7ZTJ6oP81DNLcqTlnA15g1MboOc2vr5BQQuTYUU/s400/IMG_5292.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Perhaps more pictures tomorrow of Evergreen outside the family homes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We did eat lunch today at a local restaurant.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Saw old faces, old friends, old acquaintances.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I always identify myself this way, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Do you recognize me? I'm Elizabeth Wilkerson"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Because I don't always recognize everyone. I have to gaze through the years to know who they are.</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bitstream Vera Sans', Arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br />
</span></span>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-15913251760814497962012-04-10T16:38:00.000-07:002012-04-10T16:38:00.176-07:00The TrainEllie went with me today to take Sarah to the Train Station in Birmingham.<br />
<br />
It's on Morris Avenue - right smack kadab in the middle of downtown Birmingham.<br />
Birmingham is no Atlanta, but it has its own unique downtown. <br />
I like it a lot.<br />
I used to work on the corner of 6th Avenue and 20th Street. So, on the way to the train station, I crane my neck, looking to see images from my past - those days of single life and those days of meeting Charlie and then that one year we were married and living in Birmingham.<br />
<br />
So - the train station - and saying goodbye to Sarah.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qKUPGoMsdmQbhTRHlTavbaqOX4dwWrzlZ3UBoYML60B2szlslfDVvnJuTc1uKxaX29hgyJ0ar3ufzUtLeuGjir_4wQGonheebmkpq_ijb0knqLBCNFLQ6suYWgOEEGrWeogrYUlV1Is/s1600/IMG_5238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qKUPGoMsdmQbhTRHlTavbaqOX4dwWrzlZ3UBoYML60B2szlslfDVvnJuTc1uKxaX29hgyJ0ar3ufzUtLeuGjir_4wQGonheebmkpq_ijb0knqLBCNFLQ6suYWgOEEGrWeogrYUlV1Is/s400/IMG_5238.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-17020523380168787392012-04-10T06:38:00.000-07:002012-04-10T06:38:34.232-07:00Andrew on the Movie, "Mirror, Mirror"Ann and Steve took Ellie, 7, Luke, 5, and Andrew, 3, to see <b>Mirror, Mirror</b> - starring Julia Roberts and other people.<br />
<br />
It's basically a new twist on Snow White.<br />
<br />
Yesterday Andrew had mine and Sarah's undivided attention and was thinking of things off the top of his head to tell us. They were very random.<br />
<br />
I wrote this down, what he told us -<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"I saw that movie about a purty girl and a bird camed in her house and it didn't poop on her."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
He told that a second time, later, so I think he must have been amazed about the bird coming in her house and not defecating at all - well - at least not on Snow White.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLfsZxWL-ZoC77TloDxvbTwMm7uMw8M3WalTEU_m7fVjrVY4sP6ZoDPTswTtQsSp-aDo3J4w036piF4X5SvTYv4nkxOtat3lKgZ4tW9EDJrt-qHTNSCxnfzd2703lH2W08nPbUy__HSAY/s1600/IMG_5121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLfsZxWL-ZoC77TloDxvbTwMm7uMw8M3WalTEU_m7fVjrVY4sP6ZoDPTswTtQsSp-aDo3J4w036piF4X5SvTYv4nkxOtat3lKgZ4tW9EDJrt-qHTNSCxnfzd2703lH2W08nPbUy__HSAY/s400/IMG_5121.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-35787166863204976332012-04-09T15:14:00.000-07:002012-04-09T15:14:02.646-07:00WalkingIt's Monday. We celebrated Christ's resurrection yesterday. <br />
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What do you do when you find out that you've been redeemed from a pit so dark, so hopeless - and you've been redeemed by the God of all creation?<br />
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What do you do?<br />
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Do you pay him back? Do you thank Him? Do you wonder where to go from here?<br />
Yes, thank Him. Every hour. All the time. Be really really thankful. <br />
You can't repay Him, but you give Him yourself. That's what you do.<br />
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Do you think, "What if I go back in the pit?" Are you scared you might go back in the pit? Back to despair and hopelessness? Back to death? <br />
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If you heard the truth you know that you've been redeemed forever and that He carries you. No need to fear those things. He has you. Even in the moments when He carries you through things that feel "pit-like" or feel hopeless, there is the truth of the Gospel. You are alive in Christ.<br />
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You just walk. You live in Him. He carries. He changes you and me. He shapes and makes and molds you and me. We are alive now because He is alive. If we said yes to Him. I did say yes. I said for Him to have all of me. I still say it. It's the only way to live, day after day. Walking.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I have been crucified with Christ.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">who loved me and gave Himself for me.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Galatians 2:20</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Again, Happy, Happy Easter.</div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362869092795946120.post-53903033604030760762012-04-08T05:42:00.000-07:002012-04-08T05:42:02.234-07:00Good Morning.<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The dark page has turned. There's hope.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Jesus was dead, but now he's alive. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">He overcame death. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">God became man and He has saved us.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Grace. </b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>What shall we say then?</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase?</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>By no means! We are those who have died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Or don't you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ were baptized into His death?</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>We were therefore buried with Him through baptism into death in order that,</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father,</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">we too may live a new life.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>For if we have been united with Him in a death like His,</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>we will certainly also be united with Him in a resurrection like His.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">For we know that our old self was crucified with Him</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>that we should no longer be slaves to sin -</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>because anyone who has died has been set free from sin.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Now if we died with Christ we believe that </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">we will also live with Him.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>Romans Six: One through Eight.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;">Here we are, April 8, 2012, and all of that happened those many years ago </span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;">and it was planned before time,</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;">our redemption.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"><br />
</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><b>May the lamb who was slain </b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><b>receive in my life today the reward of His sufferings!</b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-small;"><b>Revelations 5:12</b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><b><br />
</b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><b>If anyone would come after me,</b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><b>let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.</b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-small;"><b>Matthew 16:24</b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><b><i><br />
</i></b></span></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14877243941837921892noreply@blogger.com0