tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685647527325047642024-03-05T19:43:13.432-08:00Katherine's Mom's BlogKimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.comBlogger128125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-10720749089733690282010-05-25T16:29:00.000-07:002010-11-06T10:45:21.082-07:00<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><div style="text-align: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Times;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;">You are cordially invited to</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Meet Margery</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i></i></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic;">Today, Tomorrow, Whenever...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><a href="http://margeryraveson.com/" style="color: #956839; text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">margeryraveson.com</span></a></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;"><br />
</span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>R.S.V.P.</i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>***************</i></span></div></span></i></span></div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-51491316845834388922010-05-19T09:56:00.000-07:002010-05-19T09:59:00.035-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Please come visit us at "In the Meantime...": </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><a href="http://www.kimarnoldblog.blogspot.com/">http://www.kimarnoldblog.blogspot.com</a></span></span></span>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-71739438306924453282010-04-15T07:10:00.000-07:002010-04-18T07:20:23.505-07:00youtubes<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBS18dIZk9Ez2uNPMvEhsrdq4xSoOZidG87ItKMnr6UwVB5qjOnEmJlRmvHEHLZoT6caGshsdP-pTP0TebsafUREllBeARkazm1LaZD6wPHh6p1vWkToIJmNJn9J23TXF_gUY2gizUDlc/s1600/n3403147_37552222_7588.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBS18dIZk9Ez2uNPMvEhsrdq4xSoOZidG87ItKMnr6UwVB5qjOnEmJlRmvHEHLZoT6caGshsdP-pTP0TebsafUREllBeARkazm1LaZD6wPHh6p1vWkToIJmNJn9J23TXF_gUY2gizUDlc/s320/n3403147_37552222_7588.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPGAlaRw4MP6mFrDqZehfCn3GyWrVj7E3e6jHpITgpWbU06qD5E0YUKGOXAVhokAbiXkmjJkWeQf0pW1dDndRc6iCmsLcVN-tKOWQu7G57xYsdXXNhicMPlnOqZ2Yt6_H3CKp17JRFzc/s1600/2496774636_bed95be9df.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPGAlaRw4MP6mFrDqZehfCn3GyWrVj7E3e6jHpITgpWbU06qD5E0YUKGOXAVhokAbiXkmjJkWeQf0pW1dDndRc6iCmsLcVN-tKOWQu7G57xYsdXXNhicMPlnOqZ2Yt6_H3CKp17JRFzc/s320/2496774636_bed95be9df.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;">I'm sure most of you visiting this site have seen these before, but in case anyone hasn't, I'm posting them all together. Seeing the <i>before</i> and <i>after</i> in close juxtaposition does seem to illustrate the impact of Katherine's AVM rupture more vividly.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><b>*Katherine and Jay's Wedding:</b> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEYed9Foins&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEYed9Foins&feature=related</a></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><b>*Clips from "Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader?"</b>:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJ9c_K4Dkm4&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJ9c_K4Dkm4&feature=related </a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwWPxzOEAS8&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwWPxzOEAS8&feature=related</a></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><b>* First Baptist, Pomona, CA:</b> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k00BFb-yPK8&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k00BFb-yPK8&feature=related</a></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><b>*Testimony at First Baptist, Florence, MS:</b> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=59YMj7fFxfQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=59YMj7fFxfQ</a></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><b>*Testimony at First Baptist, Montgomery:</b> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SC7e4kKxz-4">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SC7e4kKxz-4</a></span></span><br />
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</b></span></span>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-74088450380195502392010-02-18T09:49:00.000-08:002010-04-15T06:39:40.713-07:00I'm sorry if this is confusing, but I'm back on <b><a href="http://kimarnoldblog.blogspot.com/">In the Meantime...</a></b><br />
<div><b><br />
</b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">I published a new post there this morning called "Permission."</span><br />
</b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.kimarnoldblog.blogspot.com/">http://www.kimarnoldblog.blogspot.com</a></span><br />
<div><div><b><br />
</b></div><div>To anyone new: The above address is my primary blog now, and is where I will post most entries.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Thanks for being with us!</div><div><br />
</div><div>And a <b>specia</b><b>l</b> thanks to Katie for teaching me how to do links.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Maybe I'll learn how to spruce up the archives next. You never know.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Love, kim</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div></div></div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-9569504091513279282010-02-17T08:23:00.000-08:002010-02-17T09:03:06.096-08:00<div><br /></div>I just need to say THANK YOU to the amazing ladies who commented on the last post.<div><br /></div><div>Thank you for sharing your stories, your hearts, your hurts, your wisdom, your compassion, your encouragement, your prayers, your beautiful words.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you for being my sisters.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you for giving me the opportunity and privilege of praying for you. I've already started. I can't get you out of my mind.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you for your courage and your witness. Thank you for your perseverance. Thank you for not giving up. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you for taking the time to bless everyone who comes here. </div><div><br /></div><div>THIS is what I long for this blog to be! Not just a monologue, but a conversation.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh no, I'm crying again. </div><div><br /></div><div>James wants to know why.</div><div><br /></div><div>I told him it's because my heart is full of love.</div><div><br /></div><div>He's looking at me funny. </div><div><br /></div><div>(Unfortunately, he'll get it one day. Love hurts.)</div><div><br /></div><div>But it's worth the pain.</div><div><br /></div><div>I love you!</div><div><br /></div><div>Kim</div><div><br /></div><div>(p.s. I urge you to go to:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;font-size:small;"><a href="http://www.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/12/14/frontotemporal.dementia/index.html?iref=allsearch">http://www.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/12/14/frontotemporal.dementia/index.html?iref=allsearch</a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px;font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">for Cheryl's story. </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px;font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><br /></div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-67763779435920614522010-02-15T08:23:00.000-08:002010-02-15T22:24:19.462-08:00Missing Katherine<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUoe5Xr4BDL0iss_KpOThIvouAOHpHi864kY1lWHHFGRMfUgBszTHhGXxdzn9biTfgcN0rKjauPYLGocVeCVTMm3dXj8tlbWzE6Af2Q2TOnVGu4bbRwMie_G4XO5SJltmpAP7xA5N__wk/s1600-h/IMG_0843.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUoe5Xr4BDL0iss_KpOThIvouAOHpHi864kY1lWHHFGRMfUgBszTHhGXxdzn9biTfgcN0rKjauPYLGocVeCVTMm3dXj8tlbWzE6Af2Q2TOnVGu4bbRwMie_G4XO5SJltmpAP7xA5N__wk/s320/IMG_0843.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438507080088629778" /></a><br /><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss Katherine.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve said it.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss her laugh.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss her eyes.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss her smile.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss her voice.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss the way she talked 100 miles an hour when she was excited about something.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss the way she moved.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss the way she helped me.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In Target the other day, I thought I saw her.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My peripheral vision glimpsed a tall girl with long blonde hair striding toward me. “Oh, here comes Katherine,” my inner reflexes registered for a milli-second. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It made my heart race.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Vertigo.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then a swift sadness.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss that girl.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is not an entirely new phenomenon.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When Katherine was a toddler, I missed Baby Katherine.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed her baby smell.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed her funny Mohawk hair.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed her tininess.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed nursing her.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed sleeping with her.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When Katherine was 7 or 8, I missed Toddler Katherine.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed her voice.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed the funny things she said.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed her little dimpled hands holding mine.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed seeing her see things for the first time.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed the conversations we had at bedtime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">(Age 2 1/2: “Mommy, why is there meanness in the world?”)<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed snuggle time.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I still do.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When Katherine was 17, I missed Awkward Preteen Katherine.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed her dorkiness.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed the way she thought I was The Coolest Mom.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I missed the way she could still play.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I missed the way she told me <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">everything</b>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I still do.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">all</b> my little girls. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss the way they fought and kissed and made up.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I miss the way they sang silly made-up songs.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss the way they covered me in kisses..</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I miss the way they got into bed together and giggled. (Wait…they still do that.)</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I can still smell the sunshine in Amie’s hair.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I can feel Baby Grace’s long legs wrapped around my middle.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I can see the look in Katherine’s blue eyes, as big as her face, as she asked me endless questions.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I feel a sense of loss that those little girls are gone.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">…As I feel a sense of loss for the Katherine who left us one sunny day in April in the year 2008.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">miss</b> her.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There is an innate <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">tristesse</i> in the harsh reality that kittens become cats</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">and toddlers morph into teenagers</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">and teenagers turn into old ladies like me.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Impermanence is sad. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think it’s okay to be sad sometimes. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For a time.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Old ladies turn into angels one day.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">***************</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“Dear friends, now we are children of God, and </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">what we will be has not yet been made known</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is…” (I John 3:2)</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#545559;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“I'm gonna miss you</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I'm gonna miss you </span></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">When you're gone </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">She says, I love you </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I'm gonna miss you </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And your songs </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#545559;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And I said, please</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Don't talk about the end </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Don't talk about how </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Every living thing goes away…”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color:#545559;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Jon Foreman, from </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Learning How to Die</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#545559;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#545559;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><i>***************</i></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#545559;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(84, 85, 89); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">*</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I hope you understand my heart in this. It was not meant to be maudlin or whiny. Just an admission that there </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">has</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> been loss; that change and loss are inevitable parts of life; and that it is sometimes good to acknowledge this fact in order to appreciate our times of joy more fully. Although there are things I miss about the pre-AVM Katherine, the After-Katherine has qualities and depths that would not have been possible before. God is not finished with her yet. The gifts she is receiving through her losses are greater than gold. I believe that the heart of God is such than when He takes something away, He replaces it with something even better. But the "taking away" part is still hard. Very, very, very hard.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#545559;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><br /></i></span></span></p></div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-42836941111748939032010-01-21T09:18:00.001-08:002010-01-28T22:43:39.187-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEHjWUFhxwX9aa-0eAb9woGTwWOJ0V-5MsOYWnjC_I1u-ieS315IqyXp4argFz3EX0QUgTnZqEOJucgLIO91zQFd52Q_fr1dJjvPjzulqV6f-58-hw7jVmTkKrdEnw7n8tJqkPbnVeGyk/s1600-h/IMG_1323.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEHjWUFhxwX9aa-0eAb9woGTwWOJ0V-5MsOYWnjC_I1u-ieS315IqyXp4argFz3EX0QUgTnZqEOJucgLIO91zQFd52Q_fr1dJjvPjzulqV6f-58-hw7jVmTkKrdEnw7n8tJqkPbnVeGyk/s400/IMG_1323.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429244100592641778" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear Ones,</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Okay, here’s the deal:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We’re beginning the process of a complicated move, so there’s zero time to work on my new ideas.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But I don’t want to lose touch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">in the meantime</i>, just click on the link below and bookmark it. This is <b>not</b> the new blog…just kind of an intermediate holding ground.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m sure there’ll be fresh stories to tell…I’m always learning something new. (Better late than never, I guess.)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><u><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">In the meantime.</span>..</u></i></b><span style="color:#4116FF;"> </span><span style="color:red;"><a href="http://www.kimarnoldblog.blogspot.com/">http://www.kimarnoldblog.blogspot.com</a> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:red;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Let me know if you have any trouble with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Love, </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Kim</p> <!--EndFragment-->Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-86730425497985837292010-01-19T07:23:00.000-08:002010-12-21T09:00:22.082-08:00<div><div><br />
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</div></div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-23815797545921855282010-01-16T05:12:00.000-08:002010-01-16T20:11:53.584-08:00Thus Far...<div><br /></div><div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpyLufgeNgocCO2uR8DVKqQZ5FlSUzTB4m8aNTxuLNYQzbKdm9UIXT3hHngQrt7SNcKpBF8eZSA6AeASWYm15mm5twkRFOm1opbTaOGEX-BKQqHZjrpLcuziTSBg33ySj72K3knX9paR4/s400/DSC_0062+postcard+copyS.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427326584831627218" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The teeming lobby was silent.</div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The halls were deserted.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The elevators were barricaded.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The guts of UCLA Medical Center had been transplanted to the new Ronald Reagan Hospital down the block.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Echoes of loud voices ricocheted through my mind as I walked through the long, lonely halls to the one wing still occupied: The Neuro-Rehab unit on the main floor.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Those of us with loved ones there felt hollow and abandoned, like the obsolete shell of a building through which we wandered.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Hope seemed as faded as the drab, scuffed paint on the walls.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But one man refused to let go of the vision.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He refused to let us forget.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">***************</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Intent on his mission, he snuck back in like a thief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Ignoring the warning signs, he took the elevator as far as it would go; then he took the fire escape stairs up to the 7<sup>th</sup> floor.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Back to the dead and darkened ICU.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Back to the place where life and death were separated by nothing more than a flimsy curtain.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Back to where the miracles happened. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">***************</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He reconstructed the reality:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The actor’s “Head Shot” that the patient’s mother had taped to the wall behind the bed…a reminder that this was still a person, not a thing.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The fuzzy old blanket dear friends brought to the hospital as a hug-surrogate that had remained a constant comforter in spite of sanitary concerns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Green, the color of life.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And, most importantly, tangible symbols of intangible promises: a mound of heavy stones representing memorial stones from the Old Covenant. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A stone for every miracle.</p><p class="MsoNormal">***************</p><p class="MsoNormal">Alone in the silent room that once buzzed and blared the blinking signals of survival, our friend painstakingly constructed a pyramid of hope upon that bed of pain and horror.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So we would never forget what we witnessed there.</p><p class="MsoNormal">The bed now lies as empty as the tomb from which the largest stone was rolled away.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Although we have many, many miles to go before we sleep,</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Thus far has the Lord brought us…<o:p></o:p></i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><br /></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And He will bring us safely Home.</p> <!--EndFragment--> </div><div>***************</div><br /><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVFkkZvSMT4j23_zikdwxqhwsUNR0lVyBykdIGFKB7Z3uoDD-k6hM4vTgj7tobgv94xitHEKzmh1rZ8yyEoMWgtNzHAYhxJUdW2kwsRsSmc2vGgOssxzh0MzayGOGaWHsLXCzJPZqVjWU/s400/DSC_0062+copyS_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427326293513279954" /></div><div>Our friend, Ryan Dobson, was one of the remaining handful of people with us in the waiting room the morning after Katherine's 16 hours of brain surgery. He was there when the surgeon told us that Katherine would "suffer deficits" that would likely include permanent coma or life in a persistent vegetative state. He was one of three young men who prayed with Jay and me in the aftermath of this devastating news. As we reeled in disbelief and agony, those young men prayed hope and courage into us. One had a vision of something that has proved to be prophetic: Katherine would not only survive, but thrive and use her suffering for the glory of God through a speaking ministry. In months when Katherine could communicate only with a thumb's up or down, this seemed just wishful thinking. </div><div><br /></div><div>But her ministry has now begun.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ryan had his photograph made into beautiful cards for us. They are much more breathtaking in reality than in these reproductions. The cards have the photograph on the front, and the scripture in beautiful calligraphy on the inside. (</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen. He named it Ebenezer, saying, 'Thus far has the LORD helped us.'" (I Samuel 7:12)) </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The copy at the top of this post is a postcard version, which doesn't do the c</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">ard justice. The one at the bottom is a cropped version.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Although Ryan did these as a personal gift to us, not a fund-raising effort, others have asked about the cards. Ryan has most graciously suggested that he can make them available for a donation of $50 (plus S&H) to the Katherine Wolf Fund, which will be used for continuing medical expenses. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The cards are 5x7 on linen paper, envelopes included, and come in a set of 25. You can email Ryan directly at </span></span><a href="mailto:allforthename@hotmail.com" target="_blank" style="color: rgb(42, 93, 176); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">allforthename@hotmail.com</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> for more information.</span></span></span></div><div><br /></div></div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-81706238128381482802010-01-12T07:24:00.001-08:002010-01-12T19:28:27.143-08:00The End is Where We Start From...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqyn1abgwzgi2h8QTzBRSaqvyLp949Ish1YH2m_zUeZvs4ZlCrY1GNI8tKzHYHBJXpkdGHWjPdK5W_EJ6EPQHueXeX_Y4j4op85TfqbOmdpGkXVKgJQYCD6apH-f-tl2aIyNqJyqCw-uo/s1600-h/IMG_0358.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqyn1abgwzgi2h8QTzBRSaqvyLp949Ish1YH2m_zUeZvs4ZlCrY1GNI8tKzHYHBJXpkdGHWjPdK5W_EJ6EPQHueXeX_Y4j4op85TfqbOmdpGkXVKgJQYCD6apH-f-tl2aIyNqJyqCw-uo/s400/IMG_0358.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425874890535724930" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b>What we call the beginning is often the end </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b>And to make an end is to make a beginning.</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b>The end is where we start from.</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b> </b></span></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-Times New Roman"font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b>T.S. Eliot (</b></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b>Little Gidding</b></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b>)</b></span></span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Tears are beginning the trek down toward the keyboard before the first words appear. (I <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">told</b> you I usually cry at endings, didn’t I?)<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I began this, Katherine could not tell her own story. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now she can.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It is time. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Both of us feel it. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Those who were with us in the beginning know that I really didn’t understand what a “blog” was. Words simply started spilling out onto an unfamiliar keyboard as I tried to communicate to friends what was going on, and, in the process, grope toward understanding for myself. Sharing the story made the unthinkable more concrete and bearable. The responses I got were life-preservers thrown to someone drowning in a sea of horror, despair and denial. I thank you for them from the bottom of my heart.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m not going to use the analogy of breaking up, but I have a little bit of the same yucky feeling in my stomach right now. This experience has brought me friends. I, who would never do the pen-pal thing as a child, or the email thing as an adult (until quite recently), now count myself blessed by hundreds of pen-friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Several times over the holidays I had the experience of meeting a reader for the first time, or running into someone I had not known well before, who said the same thing to me: “I hope you don’t think this is weird, but I feel like I really know you. I feel like you’re my best friend.”<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">No, I don’t think it’s weird at all. I am very deeply moved and honored by such comments. That’s the sweetest thing anyone could say to me. Psychologists concur that the desire <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">to be truly known</i></b> (and understood) is one of the most fundamental of human needs. The knowledge that, through my writing, I’ve made friends who <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">get me</b> and understand…who are truly kindred spirits…is mind-boggling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is one of the greatest gifts that I’ve received from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Katherine’s Mom’s Blog</i>. There have been many.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I first began writing, my feelings were just a wee bit hurt whenever someone would say how “cathartic” the blog must be for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I guess the connotation in my mind was of someone vomiting her unfiltered emotions all over the internet for the express purpose of “feeling better.” Because blogging became something I felt called to do in the theological sense of the word, my pride was a little wounded by the thought that people might perceive it as nothing more than a personal emotional release. If that were the case, I thought, why not just write it in my journal?<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But now I realize that it certainly <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">has</b> been cathartic. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Catharsis</span></span></b><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> (</span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ancient_Greek_language"><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi- text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonefont-family:Helvetica;color:#1231B2;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ancient Greek</span></span></a><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">: </span></span><a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/%CE%9A%CE%AC%CE%B8%CE%B1%CF%81%CF%83%CE%B9%CF%82"><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi- text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonefont-family:Helvetica;color:#4267B6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Κάθαρσις</span></span></a><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">) is a </span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ancient_Greek"><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi- text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonefont-family:Helvetica;color:#1231B2;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Greek</span></span></a><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> word meaning "purification", "purging", "cleansing" or "clarification." It is derived from the </span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Infinitive"><span style=" font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-text-decoration: none;text-underline:nonefont-family:Helvetica;color:#1231B2;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">infinitive</span></span></a><span style=" font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> verb of </span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ancient_Greek_language"><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi- text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonefont-family:Helvetica;color:#1231B2;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ancient Greek</span></span></a><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">: </span></span><a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/%CE%BA%CE%B1%CE%B8%CE%B1%CE%AF%CF%81%CE%B5%CE%B9%CE%BD"><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi- text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonefont-family:Helvetica;color:#4267B6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">καθαίρειν</span></span></a><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transliteration"><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi- text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonefont-family:Helvetica;color:#1231B2;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">transliterated</span></span></a><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> as </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">kathairein</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> "to purify, purge," and </span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adjective"><span style=" font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-text-decoration: none;text-underline:nonefont-family:Helvetica;color:#1231B2;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">adjective</span></span></a><span style=" font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ancient_Greek_language"><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi- text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonefont-family:Helvetica;color:#1231B2;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ancient Greek</span></span></a><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">: </span></span><a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/%CE%BA%CE%B1%CE%B8%CE%B1%CF%81%CF%8C%CF%82"><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi- text-decoration:none;text-underline:nonefont-family:Helvetica;color:#4267B6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">καθαρός</span></span></a><span style="font-family:Helvetica;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">katharos</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> "pure or clean." </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This is all terribly meaningful to me. Obviously, Katherine’s name comes from this stem. (She has been a pure soul from birth.)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I thank you who have wept and laughed and pondered life with me. It has, indeed, been both a purging and a cleansing. You have helped me to clarify and purify my thoughts and attitudes during this painful pilgrimage. I have felt a sense of accountability to you who have read my words and shared this time with my family and me. That has been an extremely positive force in my life. You have ministered to me with your words and prayers.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-mso-bidi-;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:13.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I have shared a lot…sometimes more than my family is entirely comfortable with. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">(Okay, English teachers: “more than that with which my family is entirely comfortable.” Just to show you I can do it if I have to. And, for the record, I’ve been aware of my fragments and run-ons all along.</i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;">J</span></span>)</i> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s always a risk when you put yourself out there, with all of your warts and moles and booboos and bad breath and hairy legs and all. The fear of rejection often inhibits honesty: “What will people think of me? Will they judge me harshly? Will they be offended?”<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But instead of judgment, I have received nothing but support, encouragement, and affirmation. Understanding. Compassion. Love.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Transparency” is a word that has cropped up often in the affirming comments. If I do possess that trait, I must attribute it more to heredity than altruism. The impulsive nature that accompanies ADHD is the culprit in many a premature revelation or TMI (Too-Much-Information) diatribe. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But I long to be truly transparent.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Hopefully, I will become more and more so during this drawn-out procedure known as “sanctification.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As God continues cleaning me up from the inside out, there will be less and less to hide.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There are many peripheral stories that never made it onto KMB, caringbridge, or the other sites. I always meant to share this one:<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I left California for the first time after Katherine’s brain rupture in order to attend my youngest daughter’s high school graduation, my sister and her family flew out to take my place. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>While in Malibu picking up mail for Jay and Katherine, they decided to go up on the mountaintop to Serra Retreat, which is a very beautiful monastery overlooking the ocean. The park beside the monastery has steep winding paths with sea views that remind me of some of my favorite places in Italy or Greece. Along one of one of these paths, my sister Kelly ran into Mel Gibson. He was in an intense discussion with a young woman, evidently a newcomer to the AA meetings that are held at Serra. His eyes met Kelly’s. Although she didn’t want to interrupt the counseling session, she was led to speak to him and to identify herself as a fellow believer. In the aftermath of his reputation-destroying arrest, which he later described as the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“stupid ramblings of a drunkard,” she felt the need to offer encouragement. Stumbling over her words, she said to him, “I just want you to know that I appreciate your honesty in admitting your failings.” He looked at her with those piercing baby blues and gave her a wry, slightly sad, smile. “Well, I’m not always totally honest,” he told her.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Few are. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I appreciate his honesty in admitting that. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We human beings are all complicated labyrinths of consistency and contradiction, honesty and subterfuge, authenticity and fraud, transparency and obscurity. I believe that the sharing of our personal struggles in achieving fusion and wholeness can help to set others free. Over the years, God has brought some amazing people into my life who have modeled this for me. I’ve been blessed with friends whose honesty was startling…if not shocking…to me at first. But their transparency encouraged me to give myself permission to admit my own many fallings and failings. As I've said before, I believe that bringing our imperfections out into the light…bringing them to The Light…is ultimately healing and restoring. The process is simple: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">“Confess your sins to one another and pray for each other so that you might be <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">healed</b>.” (James 5:16) </i>It is impossible to grow up and grow old on planet Earth without needing healing of some sort.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Katherine chose this quote for her wedding program: <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">“The love of God, unutterable and perfect, flows into a pure soul the way that light rushes into a transparent object. The more love that it finds, the more it gives itself, so that, as we grow clear and open, the more complete the joy of loving is. And the more souls who resonate together, the greater the intensity of their love, for, mirror-like, each soul reflects the others." (Dante<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">, The Divine Comedy)<o:p></o:p></b></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I believe that living out our lives as authentically and transparently as possible expedites this process of ‘soul purification,’ thus enabling us to experience the love of God in a much deeper way, and then to share that love with others. “She who hath been forgiven much loveth much.”<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I am not a perfect person; we are not a perfect family. We were not so before Katherine’s brain rupture; we are not now. It’s been a little awkward receiving accolades. Over the holidays, I heard myself repeating this over and over again: “No, I’m not…but He is.” If anyone has gotten anything at all from this public sharing, then I hope this much is understood: I am NOT… <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“faithful” or “strong” or “amazing” or any other adjective that people have used in trying to encourage me (or maybe just to be polite.) I am most assuredly none of those things. Quite the contrary, as Miss Elizabeth Barrett said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I really am just an average sinner. Maybe even above average. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But that is the whole point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s all Him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:.25in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none">Corrie Ten Boom was<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"> </i>a Dutch Christian who, along with her entire family, was sent to a concentration camp by the Nazis for hiding Jews. She was the only one of her family to survive. In her wonderful book, <i><b>The Hiding Place</b></i>, she relates a conversation she had with her father as a child. She had expressed to him a fear of dying. (In particular, dying as a martyr for Christ.) <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:.25in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span> </span><span style="color:#721B1C;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“Tell me,” said Father, “When you take a train trip to Amsterdam, when do I give you the money for the ticket? Three weeks before?” “No, Daddy, you give me the ticket just before we get on the train.” “That is right,” my father said, “and so it is with God’s strength. Our Father in Heaven knows when you will need the strength... He will supply all you need — just in time...”</span></i></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Not before. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He handed me the ticket just as I got on the plane to fly to California on the night of April 21, 2008. And then He handed His own to the flight attendant and got on with me. He’s been with me for the whole trip. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">He’s</b> the one who is faithful and strong and amazing. I don’t have to be. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I just have to lean on Him when I can’t stand any longer.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Actually, He’s carried me through most of it. I don’t know why I should be surprised by this. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He promised me He would <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">the very first day I began writing</b>.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He will carry you, too.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I promise.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">God bless you now and always.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">***************</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">P.S.</span></span></b> Older readers (i.e., those who've stuck around a while) will know that this is just the first of many more p.s.’s to come over the next days, if not weeks to come. I can never finish a conversation. Takes me forever to get off the phone.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Long ago, a sweet lady wrote to encourage me to continue writing. Actually, she said that she would be willing to read just about anything I wrote, even if it were about “picking my toes.” I’m taking her at her word. As I said, KMB has given me many gifts. Not least among them is that I have finally, at this very late stage of the game, discovered “my voice.” George Eliot said “It is never too late to become what you might have been.” It seems that I have become a writer in spite of myself.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was important for me to post this today in order to have some closure, and to force myself into a new direction. The process of getting there may take weeks as I attempt to set up a new blog…while going through a move and caring for James. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Please hang with me. Although I will no longer be sharing Katherine’s current story, there are a few 'p.s.’s' pertaining to what’s already been written here that I would like to post before I close up shop. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Also, I want to thank the many people who have asked about a book. Here’s the deal: I am a technophobe who has little time in which to improve my skills. I attempted to compile some of the entries into book form on “Blurb,” but the affordable version proved to be over my head. (Re-formatting and all that…lots of abbreviations I have no clue about.)<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I am not giving up the idea, however. I am praying that if God wants it to happen, He will bring the right people to help me. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So, if anyone feels led to pray for me, I could use a book person and a blog designer.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Thank you, dear friends, for.....….....<b>e</b><b>verything</b>.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I would love to hear from you!<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Love, Kim</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">P.S.S. Since this turned out to be so long, I will tell the story of the picture on the previous posting another day. Please do keep checking in.<o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-52431609382980730822009-12-30T06:20:00.000-08:002010-01-01T08:46:53.653-08:00Traditions<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7NMmPpxVcOVwC8hkZvFpRYrNcNZV_g4X-vYT3WspAQxxxvukqAnrmKgPZYCyFclsr04ppvyL_xItS7mlCqfdt_ZYuDWt8nrCyMpPsTMLxHZB0pcpJcWyD-KWvD9Vf_lJfz6vVQ46Y0N4/s1600-h/IMG_0711.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7NMmPpxVcOVwC8hkZvFpRYrNcNZV_g4X-vYT3WspAQxxxvukqAnrmKgPZYCyFclsr04ppvyL_xItS7mlCqfdt_ZYuDWt8nrCyMpPsTMLxHZB0pcpJcWyD-KWvD9Vf_lJfz6vVQ46Y0N4/s400/IMG_0711.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421036424841176754" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Traditions are a huge deal in the Deep South. I’m not exactly sure why that is, other than the fact that Southerners tend to squat in the same place for such long periods of time. My uncle recently reminded me that my mother’s side of the family came to Georgia shortly after fighting in the Revolution. From the 1780’s to 2010 is a long time in the same general vicinity. It tends to make traditions stick.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve always been the type that tries to cling to happy experiences. I have taken too many pictures, bought too many souvenirs. The End of anything used to make me sad. I cried at pre-school graduations.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Holidays turned into idols of Norman Rockwell/Martha Stewart perfection. We had to have the same decorations, the same special dishes, the same parties, the same activities, the same gift-exchanges, the same routine, year after year. It turned from joy into burden.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As meaningful as traditions can be, I think there are times when God calls us to let them go with the winds of change. Nothing lasts forever down here. This world and everything in it are passing away. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Letting go of traditions means letting go of how I think things are supposed to be and opening myself up to receiving new gifts and joys. While remembering the happy times of the past with gratitude, I want to be able to embrace the new and unpredictable. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Living in a New Normal has expedited that process.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There have been greater changes in the life of our family than I ever could have imagined two Christmases ago. Life has been turned completely upside down. But even while grieving over what’s been lost, there has been much joy and laughter. And great hope.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We let go of many traditions this Christmas. It was much easier than I thought it could be. As much as possible, I tried to live by the adage, “If it brings you joy, do it. If not, don’t!” There were many things I didn’t do this year. But instead of feeling guilty, I felt <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">free</b>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We actually allowed ourselves the freedom to fly: we flew away to New York for Christmas weekend. It was the Wolf’s turn to have Katherine, Jay, and James, so rather than sitting around missing them on Christmas morning, we decided to do something completely new for us. I even took a little Christmas tree in my suitcase!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Blind Boys of Alabama</i> sing at the House of Blues in LA, “I didn’t come here looking for Jesus…I brought him with me!”</p><p class="MsoNormal">But He was already there.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Man-made traditions are not holy; He is.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And he will meet us wherever we are, wherever we go.</p><p class="MsoNormal">***************</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“Where can I go from your spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">f I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#001EE6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">y</span></span></span></span></span></span></i><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">ou are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">hand will hold me fast.”</span></span></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(Psalm 139:7-10)</span></span></span></span></i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“Behold, I am making all things new.” (Revelation 21:5)</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><br /></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">May this year be one of newness for us all.</p><p class="MsoNormal">***************</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Family and friends, I've posted a holiday album on Picasa: </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Lucida Grande', serif;font-size:100%;color:#666666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre;font-size:11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:xx-small;"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fkta2754%2Falbumid%2F5420666912293570401%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Feel free to take a peek if you're bored.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;">(Click bottom right corner above.)</span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-62907514741842758952009-12-22T10:17:00.000-08:002010-02-17T09:32:06.301-08:00Booboos<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig4z2q-p-SBMEJ0w98s2ZBHpJI9iSPr11mHBV8pn-EeL-IzTDt8pz-fqXnkvLgJDqAN2H3OiO_SmOhwfwlUBdHudtT0cndZMtE8xNaLLvenqFo1yz9nFsPmPTXVwyIjD2IKGcJRuKrCUU/s1600-h/ballet+001+(2).jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig4z2q-p-SBMEJ0w98s2ZBHpJI9iSPr11mHBV8pn-EeL-IzTDt8pz-fqXnkvLgJDqAN2H3OiO_SmOhwfwlUBdHudtT0cndZMtE8xNaLLvenqFo1yz9nFsPmPTXVwyIjD2IKGcJRuKrCUU/s400/ballet+001+(2).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418128774298850018" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> (Me, circa 1960. Note booboo on right knee.)</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span><div>James has re-christened Katherine.</div><div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Her new name is “Mommy-ha’-a-booboo.” It sounds kind of like a Native American moniker from “Dancing With Wolves.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The new name is always accompanied by a long “Mmmmm” and a sad face: bottom lip out, brows drawn together. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">James probably says this 50 times a day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He can be playing with Thomas and friends, happily chatting away about the Isle of Sodor and Sir Topham Hat, when he suddenly looks up at me and says “Mommy-ha’-a-booboo. Mmmmm…” like it’s a news flash. He might be watching Sesame Street or Curious George, staring at the TV screen in an addictive trance, when he jumps up to give me the news in an urgent voice. We’ll walk past an old picture, and James will grab it and start identifying the subjects: “Mimi, BigB, Amie, Gracie, Mommy-ha’-a-Booboo.” He picks up a phone and tells his imaginary friend, “Mommy-ha’-a-booboo!” Whenever anyone says the name, “Katherine,” his immediate response is “Mommy-ha’-a-booboo! Mmmmmm…" (Sad face.) We can be laughing on the swingset, racing to the treetops, and he will tell me as we pass each other on the way. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">All. Day. Long.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is how it came about: As I’ve mentioned, James is somewhat confused about the state of his universe. He’s trying to figure out to whom he owes his primary loyalty. Who is his #1 lady? This is a natural outcome for a 2-year-old who’s had so many caretakers. I think that he senses something is a little “off.” His confusion has caused him to occasionally display anger towards his mother, which, of course, adds insufferable insult to injury. On one of these occasions, I sat him down and gave him a serious talking-to. I said, “Listen. Mommy got hurt. She has a bad booboo. It makes me sad when you’re not nice to her.” He struggled out of my arms and ran off to play. But a few days later, he came up and told me, “Mommy-ha’-a-booboo. Mmmm.” (Sad face.)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As the weeks wore on, the phrase began coming out more and more frequently. Being in Athens, it has reached a crescendo. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think a lightbulb has come on in that baby boy’s brain. He’s a smart little guy. He’s already taught himself the whole alphabet. I think he’s beginning to understand what’s going on. With all of the old pictures around the house, he can see the “before” and “after.” At first, I was a little surprised that he could correctly identify Katherine. In the “before” pictures, Mommy is usually standing up and smiling a great big smile. In the beginning, he hesitated. It was almost a process of elimination… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">“Okay, we know the big one is BigB. The short one is Mimi. The blondest hair is Gracie; Amie is the one laughing…so the other one <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">must</b> be Mommy! But it’s a different version of the Mommy I have now. Hmmmm…” </i>The first time this happened, he looked up at me, and I promise, I could read his mind. He gazed into my eyes very intently, let out a little breath, laid his head on my shoulder, and told me, sadly, “Mommy-ha’-a-booboo.” “That’s right, James,” I told him. “Mommy has a big booboo. A bad, bad booboo.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">***************</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ironically, “Booboo” is Katherine’s family nickname. The AVM rupture was not her first life-threatening medical crisis. When she was 6 months old (James’ age when her rupture occurred), Katherine became very sick. Further irony: It ended up being a serious urological problem requiring surgery. My father was a urological surgeon. He wouldn’t touch his own grandbaby with a ten-foot pole, so we headed to Egleston, Emory’s children’s hospital. It was a scary place then…still unrenovated. Tons of babies with cancer and other hideous malaises I didn’t even know existed. We had to share a room with another mother and her toddler who was severely retarded. The mothers slept on plastic reclining chairs on either side of the room. When the toddler couldn’t be comforted, the other mother would put her in one of those old rolling walkers we used in the 80’s, and she would play bumper cars with the walls. Dante’s Inferno.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Like James, Katherine was an exclusively breast-fed baby when this happened. I was too lazy to pump, so she’d never had a bottle. They had to tie her down after the surgery (“double ureteral re-implant,” with Brooks’ college roommate, a urological resident, assisting the primary surgeon!) to prevent any movement that might disturb the delicate procedure. I cried and cried, my tears plopping down on her little heaving chest as she screamed. I’ll never forget the look in those big eyes, staring into mine with questions: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">“Why are you letting them do this to me??? Don’t you love me anymore?” </i>(There have been times when I’ve asked my heavenly parent questions like those.)<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Both the staff and my family realized that if I didn’t get a hospital break, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">I </b>might break. When Katherine was more stabilized, a cousin came to babysit while my husband took me out to dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My cousin told me later that Katherine began screaming as soon as I left. Missy walked her back and forth, back and forth the length of the little room, unable to comfort her. As they made the trek for the umpteenth time, Katherine snatched the sleeve of my bathrobe off the closet door and buried her face in it. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Eau de Mommy</i> instantly quieted her for the rest of the evening. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">(A side note: This story came to mind when I was caring for James in the early days of Katherine’s residence in UCLA’s Intensive Care Unit. He’d never taken a bottle, either, so we were having some rough times adjusting. As he was screaming inconsolably, I thought I’d give the same method a try. I found Katherine’s “Hooter Hider,” a cloth cover used for discreet public nursing, and put it in his face. Like an instant opiate, it calmed him down. He immediately stopped crying. It’s interesting. Sometimes just a whiff of my Father can calm me down, too.)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Somehow, we survived our stay at Egleston, and took a lasting memento home with us when we left. Our favorite nurse adored Katherine, and snuck in to play with her whenever she could. She began calling her “BooBoo.” It stuck. We made up all kinds of silly BooBoo songs, which followed Katherine through childhood. She was accident-prone, which we now understand to have been a result of the location of the hidden AVM, so the nickname was appropriate. To this day, I call her “Booboo,” or just “Boo,” more frequently than I do her Christian name. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">***************</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s impossible for any of us to go through life without accumulating some pretty nasty booboos.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Some booboos are external and obvious, like those that plague our own sweet Booboo. Some are more hidden. Spiritual cancers, deep, gaping, core wounds…the booboos of heart and soul. Writing those words, the refrain from a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Vigilantes of Love</i> (Athens band) song comes back to me:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:Courier; mso-bidi-font-family:Courier;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“yeah, the thing we cannot speak of,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:Courier; mso-bidi-font-family:Courier;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">the secret we all know…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:Courier; mso-bidi-font-family:Courier;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">this blister soul</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:Courier; mso-bidi-font-family:Courier;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">oh this blister soul…” </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:Courier; mso-bidi-font-family:Courier;font-size:13.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The harshness of life, the cruelty of other injured people, and our own destructive choices can rub some really nasty blisters onto our soft and tender spots. There are times when it is best to keep those suppurating blisters and booboos covered with medication and bandages. But after a time of stillness and healing, it is good to take the bandages off and allow the light and air to complete the healing. Sometimes we need to ‘speak of the secret we all know.’ <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Everyone</b> suffers from blister soul at one time or another. It helps us and others when we are willing to share our deepest pains and wounds…allow ourselves to be vulnerable. Bringing things out into the Light always heals. Then we are enabled become what theologian Henri Nouwen calls “Wounded Healers.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That is what Jesus is.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When James uses his new hyphenated-name-for-his-mother, I counter it with, “Yes, Mommy has a booboo, but she’s getting better. God is helping her get better every day.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Wounded One himself is washing her wounds, pouring his healing Spirit into her battered body. I felt this very powerfully the other day when a few friends gathered to pray for her. The Scarred One is bathing her scars with his tears, comforting her heart with his incomprehensible, unearthly comfort. He is equipping her to be a Wounded Healer, one who can “comfort those in any trouble with the comfort she herself has received from Christ.” (II Cor. 1:4) No one else can empathize with another’s suffering as passionately and lovingly as someone who’s been injured in the same way. It’s impossible.<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="mso-bidi- mso-bidi-;font-family:Verdana;font-size:16.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I still have many scars from childhood booboos. A prissy tomboy, I was constantly falling out of trees and scraping huge chunks of skin off my bony little knees. My husband still teases me about these lasting reminders of how wild I was as a child. I have a 52-year-old star-shaped scar a few millimeters away from my eye…a memento of a dog bite at age 3. A thin line just above my eyebrow passes as a wrinkle, but is actually a souvenir of the time I busted my head open in a bathtub, requiring 20 stitches. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Strings of old picked bug-bite scab scars still decorate my legs. My body is a booboo scrapbook. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So is my soul.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But I am not ashamed of my booboos and bruises, my scrapes and scars. In rereading the story of doubting Thomas, I realize that it is our wounds…and our openness in sharing them…that make us <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">real.</b> Our booboos are tools that God uses for healing in the lives of his other beloved children. We pour healing and comfort into others who’ve been hurt as we’ve been hurt, who’ve bled as we have bled, been broken as we’ve been broken. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It is an honor to be used by God as a Wounded Healer.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Jesus was a Wounded Healer.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">That is why he came.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><br /></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">May we keep his wounds in our hearts as we celebrate his birth.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>***************</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“</span></span></span></i><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">by his wounds we are healed</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.” (Isaiah 53:5)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></i><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” (Psalm 147:3)</span></span></span></i><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">by his wounds you have been healed</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.” (1 Peter 2: 24) </span></span></span></i><b><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God</span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">” (II Cor. 1:3-5)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:16.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><i><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“Eight days later the disciples were together again, and this time Thomas was with them. The doors were locked; but suddenly, as before, Jesus was standing among them. “Peace be with you,” he said. Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and look at my hands. </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Put your hand into the wound in my side</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. Don’t be faithless any longer. Believe!”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:16.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><i><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">“My Lord and my God!” Thomas exclaimed.” (John 20:26-28)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:16.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:large;">***************</span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;margin-bottom: 16pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">God rest ye merry, gentlefolk/</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> Let nothing you dismay/ </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Remember, Christ, our Saviour/ </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Was born on Christmas day/ </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">To save us all from Satan's power/ When we were gone astray/ </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">O tidings of comfort and joy,/ </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Comfort and joy/ </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">O tidings of comfort and joy…</span></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;margin-bottom: 16pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><i>***************</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;margin-bottom: 16pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Addendum, 1/8/10: I have just discovered an amazing woman called "Punk Rock Mommy." Here is the link to her blog: <a href="http://www.punkrockmommy.org/">http://www.punkrockmommy.org/</a>. On the entry dated </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">April 21, 2008</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, the day of Katherine's AVM rupture, she talks about the same thing, only her testimony is more valid than mine. How strange is that??? Check it out. <a href="http://punkrockmommy.org/blog/?p=499">http://punkrockmommy.org/blog/?p=499</a></span></span></p></div></div></div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-57282047898184850692009-12-15T05:52:00.000-08:002010-02-17T09:22:22.665-08:00Falling<div><br /></div><div>We’ve had a couple of scary falls recently.</div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">The second one occurred at my mother’s house. Katherine has been thrilled to develop more independence. She is doing a great job of getting around on her own, albeit slowly, using a three-footed cane. But sometimes a foot turned a millimeter in the wrong direction can cause the world to turn upside down. As she started going down, Katherine grabbed the back of the couch. Thanks to the intense physical therapy she received at Casa Colina, and continues to receive here from her fabulous personal trainer (her husband), she has developed amazing strength. The heavy couch started to topple over on top of her. Luckily, she let go on the way down, and it righted itself. She said, “Mom, I thought I was going to die!”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">We’ve come a long way since the days in Acute Rehab when Katherine tried to run away to Cabo…before she could even stand (<i>"RollercoasterRide," </i>http://<a href="http://katherineawolf.blogspot.com/2008/06/roller-coaster-ride.html">katherineawolf.blogspot.com/2008/06/roller-coaster-ride.html</a>)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But it seems likely that falls will be an inevitable part of her journey for years to come. Over half of her cerebellum, the part of the brain responsible for balance, has been surgically removed.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">We recently had a chance to talk to a wonderful lady who has experienced the most unimaginable kind of loss there is. But she turned the focus to Katherine. She shared that her mother had had an AVM rupture. Katherine asked her about residual deficits. Our new friend said, “There really weren’t any, other than some balance issues. If you were walking next to her, she would always gradually drift into you.” Paths would cross.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There are worse things.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">***************</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">I’m getting just a wee bit tired of Tiger Woods. Why is everyone so shocked? Our culture thrives on elevating people into Idols, and then rejoicing when they fall off the pedestals we’ve erected for them. It seems an inescapable truism that <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">all</b> idols will fall. Humans cannot tolerate the burden of worship indefinitely. We were not built for it. It will inevitably corrupt and destroy those for whom it was not originally intended.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">Celebrities are not the only ones who fall. I’ve heard a lot of gossip lately about the ‘falls’ of people I know, or know of. Human nature being what it is, I think we feel a little better about ourselves when we hear of the failures of others. Maybe we’re not so bad after all, in comparison. But it doesn’t work that way.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">I’m a slow learner. It has taken me decades to discover this spiritual principle, but you can take it to the bank: <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">However you judge others, you will be tested in that exact area. </b>The absolute dumbest thing you can ever say, or feel in your heart, is “<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">I</b> would never…” Or even dumber, “<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">My child</b> would never…”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">We are <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">all</b> capable of absolutely anything under the right (wrong) circumstances.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">I’ve had more than my share of missteps and stumbles, scraped knees and soul bruises. Sometimes I feel that the part of my brain responsible for mental and spiritual balance has gone missing. I’ve teetered and tottered and toppled into a heap on the floor. But that is the best place to ask for help. Down your knees is a good place to start learning to stand.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">We all fall down. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">“If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.”(I John I:8)</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">But, as I’ve said before, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">a fall</b> is not the end of the world. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">It has many negative connotations…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><i>Fallen women and fallen arches… </i><i><o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><i>The Fall of Man, The Fall of Rome…</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><i>Fallen heroes, fallen idols…falling from grace…</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">But also…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><i>Falling snowflakes…</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><i>Falling into an inheritance…</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><i>Falling in love…into someone’s path…</i><i><o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p><i> </i></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><i>Falling into someone’s arms…</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">There are arms that are strong, but tender. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">Those arms will always pick us up again, and welcome us back home.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">“Now unto Him who is able to keep you from falling, and to present you before His glorious presence </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">without fault</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"> and with great joy…”</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">(Jude 1:24)</span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"></span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 290px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYdq4ZOfup4WdmP3uaH_OTJAbDEDJ4vRaoAtcVmzRnRQsByJAF2aBqaXe2_oS99OOmaMBQQyo5YjOLF0YXo9kvulwtgssSxHixPSCYVrJIDa6PztYe9Q5soYXQiYtQVetlf6USWPiAsso/s400/IMG_0513_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415462476369953458" />.</span></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>...falling in love over and over again...</i></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-86075407304413246042009-12-11T08:27:00.000-08:002009-12-12T17:17:48.879-08:00Remembering the Reason...<div><br /></div><div>I was sad that the little "created by" tag obscured part of what was, to me, the most precious picture...so I'm posting it by itself. Pretend it's our family's 2009 Christmas card, mailed straight to you!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjarVYj4QBrjMVawi7RqLBu7zgpTta0PrM12uC8nGLnVpYpUV7e5GfLBhsKGbpV5MEuRBV8HTGexb_CzQEwv8gIKozAb1ouW3-SMJIhM1U-bkslrSikEaDIi5S09xvPMrtMYGGHsBa4rWc/s1600-h/IMG_0423.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjarVYj4QBrjMVawi7RqLBu7zgpTta0PrM12uC8nGLnVpYpUV7e5GfLBhsKGbpV5MEuRBV8HTGexb_CzQEwv8gIKozAb1ouW3-SMJIhM1U-bkslrSikEaDIi5S09xvPMrtMYGGHsBa4rWc/s400/IMG_0423.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414016492663646514" /></a> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> "The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"Look, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">the </span></span></b></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Lamb</span></span></b></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> of God, who takes away the sin of the world!" (John 1:29)</span></span></b></i></span></span></span></span></b></i></span></span></span></span></b></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><b>"The wolf will live with the lamb...and a little child will lead them." (Isaiah 11:6)</b></span></i></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-51953137650478818832009-12-11T05:47:00.000-08:002009-12-11T05:53:53.236-08:00I have a love/hate relationship with Christmas. <br /><br />Today I'm choosing to be joyful!<br /><br />These are some pix from our trip last week to Palm Beach to introduce James to his Arnold great-grandparents. <br /><br /><br /><table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" border="0" bgcolor="#ffffff"><tr><td><a href="http://smilebox.com/play/4d5449354d546b774d44593d0d0a&blogview=true&campaign=blog_playback_link" target="_blank"><img width="386" height="303" alt="Click to play this Smilebox scrapbook: " src="http://smilebox.com/snap/4d5449354d546b774d44593d0d0a.jpg" style="border: medium none ;"/></a></td></tr><tr><td><a href="http://www.smilebox.com/?partner=commissionjunction&campaign=blog_snapshot" target="_blank"><img width="386" height="46" alt="Create your own scrapbook - Powered by Smilebox" src="http://www.smilebox.com/globalImages/blogInstructions/blogLogoSmileboxSmall.gif" style="border: medium none ;"/></a></td></tr><tr><td align="center"><a href="http://www.smilebox.com/scrapbooks" target="_blank">Make a Smilebox scrapbook</a></td></tr></table><br /><br />Love, KimKimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-28287555482240828332009-12-09T06:19:00.000-08:002009-12-13T05:18:08.510-08:00Changing God's Mind (or changing my heart?)<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b>Part 2</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 25px; font-family:georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">These are some of the reasons I think prayer is vital:</span></span></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">1.)</span></span></span></b><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We are told to pray.</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It is an act of obedience. (Matt. 6:9) Jesus even told us </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">how</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> to pray. The Lord’s Prayer was given as a model…a blueprint…for all prayer. It just dawned on me that it begins and ends with praise. The words of praise form parentheses around the words of petition. In other words, our requests for forgiveness, protection, and daily needs are made within the context of an acknowledgement of God’s attributes and character. We are not praying to capricious idols like Zeus or Aphrodite, who meddle in human affairs for their own amusement. We address the Holy King of Kings who possesses all glory and all </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">power</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">… “forever and ever.” We are actually told to “pray without ceasing” (a topic for another day) because “</span></span><span style="color:#222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and wonderful results.” (James 5</span></span></span></span><span style="color:#222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">:</span></span></span><span style="color:#222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">16) </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">2.)</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Prayer changes circumstances or us.</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">a.) There are instances thoughout the Bible where prayer </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">is</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> said “to change God’s mind,”* although we could spend endless hours debating what that actually means. If He is omniscient, then He knew from before time that the prayers would be prayed. In His great ‘courtesy,’ as the Medievals called it, He deigned that these prayers would be a vehicle through which His ultimate purposes would be accomplished. He has graciously allowed humankind to participate in the pattern of history. Weymayer states:</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“…some may wonder how it is that Scripture can teach both that God providentially brings all things to pass in conformity with His eternal purpose </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">that the prayers of men can have a significant affect in the unfolding of world history. The seeming contradiction between these two truths vanishes, however, when one realizes that </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“t</span></b><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">he same God who has decreed the end has also decreed that His end shall be reached through His appointed means, and one of these is prayer” </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Sovereignty of God</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, 167).”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Because God loves us, and desires to be in relationship with us above all else, He has (mysteriously) deemed that we have a part to play in the plot of history. We are not puppets. God is all-powerful, yet He longs to incorporate His children (and heirs) into His business.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This is an extremely weak example, but the best I can come up with in a time crunch:</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Say I want to take James to the park. He is busy playing with Thomas the Train, and won’t come when I call him. He thinks he doesn’t want to do what Mimi wants him to do, even though Mimi’s plan is for his good. He stalls, he runs away, he hides…as I often do when I sense that God is calling me to do something new. I don’t want to drag James kicking and screaming to the park. I want him to be on the same page I’m on…I want his will to be the same as mine. I want him to be excited about it. I want him to trust me that it’s going to be fun. I know what he likes. I know he loves the park. I am taking him there for his benefit. I want him not only to agree with me about the park, I want him to </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">ask me</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> to take him there. And I’d like a little gratitude, too. Eventually, James is persuaded by my description of all the fun things we could do at the park. In the end, he even says “</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Pease</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> Mimi! Wet’s go to de park!” and gets in his stroller. </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Then</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> we go. I am delighted. </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I was waiting for him to be in accord with my will, and to ask me to fulfill it. </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">His hesitation delayed his joy. (So does mine sometimes.)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(* For example, Ex. 32:14)</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">b.)</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Prayer changes me</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. Spending time with God softens me, humbles me, and makes me able to listen. The “still, small voice” becomes louder and clearer the more I learn to listen well. All it takes is time. I find that I don’t insist on my own way as often when I spend quality time alone with God. This is not something I have to force myself to do. It is a delight. So even if the circumstances I’m praying about don’t change, my attitude does.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">3.)</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Jesus prayed. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If we are to be “imitators of Christ,” then we must follow the example he set. </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Jesus was always sneaking away to be alone with his Father. He prayed both publicly and privately, but it seems apparent that he valued the one-on-one time above all else. It was like oxygen to him. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But here’s the shocker: Even Jesus, “being of the same substance as the Father, very God of very God,” got a “</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">NO</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Luke 22:44 says he sweated blood when he beseeched the Father to “let this cup pass from me.”</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">His humanity cried out against suffering. But, immediately, he acquiesced to God’s authority, “...not my will, but yours.”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion… Blessed are all who wait for him... How gracious he will be when you cry for help! As soon as he hears, </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">he will answer you</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But what if the answer is “No”? There is one “No” that is particularly hard to understand and bear. If God is gracious and compassionate, as the Psalmist says, then why does He allow the ultimate suffering of separation by death?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Kelly Edens wrote</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, </span></span><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“God knows the human heart because He created it. He knows how fragile it is, how quickly it can harden and above all, how it needs to be loved. But real love does not mean a perpetual "yes". When it comes to prayer, there are three answers: </span></i><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">yes, no and wait</span></i></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">…The hardest "no" to understand is in the death of a loved one. You want them to remain on earth with you, to have one more day to love them, but God takes them anyway. No amount of bribery, promises, or deals can keep your loved one tied to earth. But does this answer mean you will never see them again? Only if you don't intend to follow them to heaven. If you really think about it, </span></i><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">maybe God is saying "no" to your loved one's suffering, pain and illness instead of your request for them to linger.”</span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"><o:p><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></i></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Nothing on earth hurts like the loss of one you love. Thankfully, at this point I have not experienced the loss of a child. Although I cannot imagine exactly what that must be like, I assume that it’s the worst hurt there is. Unbearably painful. Devastating.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In grappling with all of these questions about the purpose of prayer, I turned to a cadre of close friends (that I look upon as “spiritual mothers”) for their insight.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">One shared this story with me:</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:#333333;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“Bottom line, when I believe in Christ, God Himself is our very great reward. What could be greater than that! He gives me </span></span></i><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Himself</span></span></i></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> as the answer for all my prayers.</span></span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This picture comes to mind: 1980...I'm expecting our 3rd child. I'm in an intense Bible study on the Book of Revelation. I'm walking and talking with the Lord intimately. I'm praying for the well-being of my unborn baby. I'm in the arms of God with Him hugging me tightly when our little daughter is born with such a birth defect that she dies that day. I turn and bury my face into the chest of the Lord as He is right there hugging me. I trust Him, as I know our baby girl is with Him. I grieve and I think of what could have been, but all the while He's hugging me and telling me, "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."</span></span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></i></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I think that's the way my prayers were answered. He gave me Himself.” </span></span></i></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Since</span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Katherine’s AVM rupture, I’ve been receiving Joni Eareckson Tada’s daily devotionals. If anyone knows about suffering, it is Joni. For those unfamiliar with her, she is the writer and artist who was left a quadriplegic by a teenage diving accident. She reached out to Katherine in the early days, and has been an amazing encourager and example of grace under fire. Many days, her short devotion “just happens” to speak directly to my immediate circumstances. The other day, her words pierced my heart: “</span></span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If we do not cling to God through the worst life offers, we will misread him entirely and grow to mistrust and even despise him.”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">That is what my friend Lynn did. She clung to God when her heart was breaking. He held her in His loving arms, when she could not hold her baby girl in hers. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I remember the first time Lynn told me her story. Though tears were shining in her eyes, she emanated peace, and even joy. She and her husband had two boys, and they’d prayed for a little girl. She told me, “God gave me the desire of my heart…a little girl. But she gets to grow up in heaven.” </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I have thought about that over the years. Lynn's daughter has never known heartbreak. She has never faced rejection or fear or sickness or depression. She has never been the victim of violence or gossip. She didn’t have to deal with Mean Girls in the 7</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> grade. She has never experienced peer pressure or temptation. She has never suffered loss. She has never sinned. She has never known anything but exquisite joy. And her family will spend eternity with her. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Because her parents know the character of God to be All Loving, they accepted His “no” as somehow coming out of that love. They trust Him. They believe that “all things work together for good </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">for those who love Him</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.” (And they do love Him.)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">***************</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know why God said “yes” to the prayers for Katherine’s life, while He says “no” to others. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">There are things that cannot be known. There are mysteries that will not be solved until Heaven. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But we can come to know God </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">himself</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">That is what prayer is to me.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Prayer is…</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Connection…conversation…relation…intercourse…union…love-longing satisfied…</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">…delight…joy…intimacy…sweetness…completeness…peace.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Prayer is a caress.</span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It is most beautiful when it is beyond words. It is communion. It is consummation. It is a ravishing. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It is the purest form of love. It is transcendent. It is sparkling light and floods of thrilling, roaring, living water pouring out of the heart of God into mine. Liquid delight…cool fire and fiery ice.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Prayer is losing myself in Him in order to find my best, true self. It is a joining of hearts, minds, and wills.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If you haven’t yet experienced prayer in this way, know that “if you seek (and keep on seeking), you will find.”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We are told to seek the greater gifts. </span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(I Cor. 12:31)</span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">For </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“if you sinful people know how to </span></i></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">give</span></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> good </span></i></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">gifts</span></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> to your children, how much more will your heavenly </span></i></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Father</span></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></i></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">give</span></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> good </span></i></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">gifts</span></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> to those who ask him</span></i></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.” (Matt. 7:11)</span></i></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The one request that we will always receive is </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">more of Him</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">That is a prayer that is always answered “Yes!”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">He is enough.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-19660173896668218182009-12-08T05:43:00.000-08:002009-12-11T06:12:39.277-08:00Changing God's Mind (or changing my heart?)<div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The anxious family huddles together in the cold hospital waiting room.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Waiting. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Praying. Murmuring quietly with each other. Sipping stale, cold, acidic coffee. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Waiting. Praying.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Stomachs growl. Icy hands clasp and unclasp. Backs ache from painful chairs.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Praying. Waiting.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">An exhausted, grey-faced doctor strides into the room. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“I’m sorry. We did everything we could.”</span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Where was God?</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Was He not listening to the fervent prayers? Was He too busy in the Middle East? Did He not care?</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Why even bother praying if He’s too preoccupied or callous to answer, to act, to intervene? </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">…if His mind’s already made up?</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">…if He’s just going to say, “</span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">NO</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">”?</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“The whole world groans as if in the pains of childbirth up til now…”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Most of us are quite content to live in our bubbles until the needle pricks of life abruptly burst them for us. No one goes out searching for pain and heartbreak. They come, nevertheless. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">They come as inevitably as death itself.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Maybe it’s just because I’m in an ‘aging spurt,’ but trial and trouble appear more widespread than ever before. There seems to be an acceleration of evil and the tragedy that results from it. Almost every day, I hear fresh heartbreaking news. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Children with life-threatening illnesses. Cancer. Devastating accidents. Life-destroying injuries. Debilitating addictions. Financial meltdowns. Divorce. Mental illness. Plain old meanness. Families estranged. Maiming. Violent death. Death, death, and more death.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The naivety of youth always asserts that tragedy happens to </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">someone else</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. Those other people. Not our kind of people. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But eventually, we all learn that no one escapes life unscathed. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This comes as quite a shock to some.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My father always said that ‘there are no atheists in foxholes.’ He spent quite a bit of time huddling in them all over Germany, so I assume his statement was authoritative. He also told me that there are few in hospital delivery rooms. He said he’d never heard the name of the Lord spoken so loudly, frequently, or creatively until he did an OB rotation at Grady Hospital in Atlanta in the early ‘50’s. I’ll spare you his imitation of some of the young mothers who came in too late for anesthesia. (You can thank me later.)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There are moments in life that bring us to our knees…to the end of our ropes…to the end of ourselves and our silly self-sufficiency. There are times when we just can’t </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">fix it</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I think even agnostics must pray then…just in case.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But we don’t always get what we want.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sometimes I wonder why God intervened in the natural order of things in Katherine’s case. More and more medical professionals have emphasized to us the complete improbability of anyone surviving what happened to Katherine. It cannot be explained in merely human terms.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Was God persuaded by the thousands of prayers bombarding Him to get up off the couch and do something about it? Did we talk Him into performing a miracle?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">If so, why are there so many cases where it appears that He did </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">not</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> get up off the couch? Were there not enough prayers? Were they not fervent enough? </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Were we just lucky He was in a good mood that day?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Obviously, I’ve been thinking a lot about the purpose and efficacy of </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">prayer</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> these days. My ‘mullings’ were inspired in part by an email Katherine received from a precious young mother who, tragically, lost twin baby girls. She wrote:</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One topic i would love for you to talk about would be: what the purpose of prayer is and if you think prayer can change God's mind about something. i just know so many people who have lost children- both during pregnancy and after- and so many of them prayed for their children to make it...and God said no. Do you think God changes His mind as a result of prayer, or do you think prayer is our way of accepting God's will for our lives? Or do you think prayer has a completely different purpose- like to rally people together during times of trouble and lifting them up?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Wow. What great, but challenging, questions. I haven’t been able to get them off my mind. Although the questions were addressed to Katherine, I felt led to address them for myself, if no one else.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I guess the pivotal issue is this: If God is sovereign…if His plans and purposes have been ordained since before time…then what part do our prayers play in the grand scheme of things? </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My questioning send me rushing out to research the sovereignty of God. It is easy to get bogged down in endless, unresolvable theological debates on the topic. Predestination? Free will? Calvinism vs. Arminianism? </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I need to keep it simple.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">One California pastor summed up the basic question:</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;line-height:19.0pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“It is very easy to drift into thinking that prayer is a nice sentiment, but in the end, a waste of time because it doesn’t really make any difference anyway.</span></span></i></span><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></i></span><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">For some people, this kind of dismissal arises from unbelief and doubt that God really can answer prayer. For others, however, the question that paralyzes their prayer life is this: </span></span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">If God is sovereign, why pray? </span></span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In other words, if God will simply do what He wants to anyway, why offer prayers of petition and intercession? </span></span></i><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Why bother requesting that God do such and such when everything has been ordained by Him beforehand? If prayer consists of pleading with God to change His eternal purposes, isn’t such an undertaking feeble at best and arrogant at worst?” </span></span></i></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Matt Waymeyer)</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;line-height:19.0pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In thinking about it, I realize that I do pray fairly often. I pray inconsistently, but frequently. I pray formally and informally. I pray when I’m calm and peaceful, but I pray even more when I’m not. Prayer is an intrinsic part of my existence, my being. I think I have pretty much always prayed, even in the early 70’s when I doubted God’s existence. They were foxhole prayers, but I believe God heard them, nevertheless. He did not, however, always say “Yes.” (Thank God.)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;line-height:19.0pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So why do I pray?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;line-height:19.0pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(to be continued…)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;line-height:19.0pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">***************</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:12.0pt;line-height:19.0pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(We made it back alive! Thanks to those who prayed...it was an ordeal. Working on a photo album, but I'm slow. Please bear with me!)</span></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </span></div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-75781872742852527922009-12-07T04:21:00.000-08:002009-12-07T06:13:31.113-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq7TYdVe12FhDdwbGL5HVXoNjP10wjN7Zz2BJWQtS-yBtzUNh7d4tufVaXEFk5eguuF3FSNvJ0Ls-RHkPFrW6Bjh7_ynhb3alnD4xw9O9iUeuHSAsB9_DPIU4A37P0E7juTHMM9NVoMdM/s1600-h/IMG_0398.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq7TYdVe12FhDdwbGL5HVXoNjP10wjN7Zz2BJWQtS-yBtzUNh7d4tufVaXEFk5eguuF3FSNvJ0Ls-RHkPFrW6Bjh7_ynhb3alnD4xw9O9iUeuHSAsB9_DPIU4A37P0E7juTHMM9NVoMdM/s320/IMG_0398.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412479790759022770" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div>We're on the last day of a quick trip to Palm Beach to introduce James to his Arnold great-grandparents. They have both struggled with health issues in the past several years (cancer), so it was a real blessing for them to finally meet him. He's been sweet and adorable, thank God!</div><div><br /></div><div>We're staying in a funky little bed-and-breakfast that we assumed was internet-free...but I just discovered that we have it. After catching up on emails, I checked out a few sites I visit every now and then for encouragement. One of them is "nienie's," a young mother (Stephanie Nielsen) who miraculously survived a deadly plane crash, but now deals with the unbelievable pain involved in healing from burns over 80% of her body. Her "attitude of gratitude" in spite of her suffering is inspirational.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was pleasantly shocked to find that "nienie" mentions Katherine in her most recent blog, and has posted a link to Katherine's "Undivided Heart" site. I wish I could return the favor, but don't have time for the tutorial on "links." If you want to check out her site, just Google "nienie." She's all over the place...just returned from being on the Today Show with Matt Lauer.</div><div><br /></div><div>Please pray for "traveling mercies" for us today... we make quite an entourage what with wheelchair, walker, stroller, and stuff!</div><div><br /></div><div>More later...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-24173569312721717602009-11-29T05:45:00.000-08:002009-11-29T13:26:30.215-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjv89BEk_xsJmk9dSmKM8Ka3KlMIiGjGzgP-KY3U7BFw05y6qDkOHqeGXEcv0hPjIIkyhimsM4l39gT1t2qKPIIyA-Uzzpe0uawQkTys5GigT8I_jbJsQvOqi60m_ksQOuS-jLWiyUVbE/s1600/IMG_0340.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjv89BEk_xsJmk9dSmKM8Ka3KlMIiGjGzgP-KY3U7BFw05y6qDkOHqeGXEcv0hPjIIkyhimsM4l39gT1t2qKPIIyA-Uzzpe0uawQkTys5GigT8I_jbJsQvOqi60m_ksQOuS-jLWiyUVbE/s320/IMG_0340.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409534891413666146" /></a><br />Did I forget to mention how intensely grateful I am for the incredible support we receive from those of you who have entered into our story and are helping us to bear our burdens? I am so thankful for your compassionate hearts.<div><br /></div><div>A very special thanks to those of you who have shared your dreams, visions, and 'angelic encounters.'</div><div><br /></div><div>I invite everyone to read the comments under the "Dreams" post. People continue to send in wonderful accounts. (<i>Chills.</i>) Please keep sending them in!</div><div><br /></div><div>We had about 80 people for our Thanksgiving lunch/dinner. (At my sweet uncle's wonderful house, not here! Thank you, Aunt Harriet!) It was a historic gathering. People were there from as far away as England, Alaska, California, and Connecticut. Thankfully, we were able to spring my mother out of the hospital late Wednesday afternoon, so she was able to be there with all five of her siblings and their extended families. (We never get through the holidays without some drama.) All fourteen of my first cousins were there, 20 second cousins, James representing the next generation, and multiple in-laws, out-laws, significant others, and various other well-loved ones. We made a very diverse and lively (i.e. wild and crazy) group. There was guitar, mandolin, and piano playing. There were babies dancing...fireplaces roaring...children running, fighting, and sneaking goodies. Football in the den. (A 200-year-old log cabin attached to the house.) Lots and lots of hugging and laughing.</div><div><br /></div><div>When the last group of relatives arrived, we gathered in the beautiful, spacious two-story great room for the blessing. After many whoops and whistles, everyone finally quieted down to pray. We formed a gigantic circle of love. Very unexpectedly, my uncle asked for us to lay hands on Katherine and pray for her healing. I could feel all of that concentrated love-energy pulsing into Katherine. The final guest arrived.</div><div><br /></div><div>His presence filled the room and our very grateful hearts.</div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-63886165475394687552009-11-25T17:22:00.000-08:002009-11-27T04:38:23.070-08:00Grateful<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9usm_clnqVY7Azhvky8iA-RRMXA4Mxy-nBA0ZidKqV9YIYYfvY-o2fWKsqzEEk7Pp8qgTIx1ozrFBUlxN-qj5fspOFaE65p7_Etp6YUKR_8MDRkwBMnorgneOAOXq-pB4HdGWL-37lU/s1600/IMG_0054.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9usm_clnqVY7Azhvky8iA-RRMXA4Mxy-nBA0ZidKqV9YIYYfvY-o2fWKsqzEEk7Pp8qgTIx1ozrFBUlxN-qj5fspOFaE65p7_Etp6YUKR_8MDRkwBMnorgneOAOXq-pB4HdGWL-37lU/s320/IMG_0054.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408220220452605634" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">After my grandmother was no longer able to host the Mega-Family-Thanksgiving meal, we (otherwise fortunate) offspring were forced to create new traditions of our own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One of mine was the “Blessings Box.” It was a humble creation fashioned from a shoe box, wrapping paper, scissors, and tape.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I blackmailed my family and guests into submitting a “blessing card” before they could receive the feast. It forced us all to stop for a minute and <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">write it down</b>. It made the whole thing less generic, more personal.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">What am I truly thankful for?</span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><o:p> Am I truly thankful at all?</o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> After seeing the things I’ve seen…and being the places I’ve been…over the past year and a half, my list is a little different from before.</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>This year,</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I can breathe.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I can swallow.</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I can move.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I can see.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I can hear.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I can talk.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I can go to the bathroom by myself.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>(I know people who cannot.)</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I can walk.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I can dance.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I can think.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I can write.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>(I’ve seen people who cannot.)</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I have a family.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful I have not outlived my children.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful that my children speak to me.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful that my children are not in jail.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>(I know people who cannot say these things.)</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful for <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">true </b>friends…and for finding out who they are.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful for my extended family.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful for unconditional love.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful for the compassion of strangers.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>(I have encountered people who have <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">no one</b> at all.)</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am not proud that I have been given these great gifts, when others I know have not. I am in no way more worthy than they.</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>So…</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">especially</b> thankful for forgiveness.</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful for mercy.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful for grace.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful that this isn’t all there is.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful that this is not home.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful that it’s never too late.</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful that God is in control, and I am not.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful that I know I am not the master of my own fate.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I am thankful that life has stripped me, broken me, humbled me…</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>and made me so very, very, very</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">grateful.</span></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-76509977533203914402009-11-23T05:50:00.000-08:002009-11-23T08:47:03.057-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGHpH9ZEbuGoamp8e7a3Y6kWv13xY8GChQiGDY__DceGiUrFZ-OUtMOwskQblGdns81KoH25jouXk4Zny8D3ZEftSy8Z4FJhYIROa2IwQKgspFvMUZI1bWA5KgWdS4PvYun59VoOAqUdw/s1600/scan0001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGHpH9ZEbuGoamp8e7a3Y6kWv13xY8GChQiGDY__DceGiUrFZ-OUtMOwskQblGdns81KoH25jouXk4Zny8D3ZEftSy8Z4FJhYIROa2IwQKgspFvMUZI1bWA5KgWdS4PvYun59VoOAqUdw/s320/scan0001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407297629853946050" /></a><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Thank you all <b>so much</b> for sharing your beautiful Katherine dreams through the comments and emails. At some point, I hope to assemble a compilation of them.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The common denominator seems to be that, in all of them, Katherine is completely restored.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I pray that these lovely dreams of yours may prove to be prophetic in many ways. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“When a prophet of the LORD is among you, I reveal myself to him in visions, I speak to him in dreams…” (Numbers 12:6)</span></span></span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-1424729422700066462009-11-17T10:25:00.000-08:002009-11-27T04:46:26.104-08:00These Dreams<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz0wkDHYWPwExBk0Gme-scs4WXktZ9Bvyoo0EBOnQJ_xA_6CZUfBeNnQSfodU2pdnPYMZ4Mqlkk21pl4CZ8x5CQ2y4a5TSy78DEd48mAiqj7ftFwYyClA-FwcrZwILX7CQssnREhJAC0k/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 341px; height: 398px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz0wkDHYWPwExBk0Gme-scs4WXktZ9Bvyoo0EBOnQJ_xA_6CZUfBeNnQSfodU2pdnPYMZ4Mqlkk21pl4CZ8x5CQ2y4a5TSy78DEd48mAiqj7ftFwYyClA-FwcrZwILX7CQssnREhJAC0k/s400/2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405145029740547282" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I have very vivid dreams. Often, they are weird, rambling, and random. One strange sequence segues into the next, seemingly without connection or context. Bizarre combinations of characters appear in detailed plot lines. Sometimes I am one of the characters, sometimes not. Sometimes “I” appear, but not as Kim. That was the case last night. I was a young woman with brown hair, married to one of three brothers. We all lived in a huge, scary old house together, along with their widowed father, another sister-in-law, the youngest brother’s inappropriate girlfriend, two children, a baby, and hundreds of gross little animals. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">See what I mean?</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Really</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> random.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Some mornings, I wake up exhausted from all the nocturnal adventure.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Who knows what brain activity ignites these strange images behind the curtain of our minds? What does it mean? Sometimes I wish I could call someone like Joseph or Daniel and ask for an interpretation.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Both scientifically and theologically speaking, it appears that many dreams, perhaps most, have no real spiritual significance. (Although the psychological implications, of course, are a whole different matter.) According to the </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">New Bible Dictionary</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, the Israelites during Old Testament times were far less occupied with the dream phenomenon than were the majority of their contemporaries, such as the Egyptians or Babylonians. It goes on to state, “</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">dreams are said to derive from the activities in which the dreamer has been immersed during the day. (Ec.,v.3) However, the OT recognizes that, whatever the origin of a dream, it may become a means by which God communicates with men…”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">According to my calculations based upon </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Strong’s Concordance</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, a form of the word “dream” appears in the Bible 122 times. Although I certainly don’t believe that every dream is a coded message sent straight from the Almighty, throughout the Bible there are telling examples of dreams used as vehicles of divine communication:</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“The angel of God </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">said</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> to me in the dream, 'Jacob.' I answered, 'Here I am.' “ (Gen. 31:11</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“But God came to Abimelech in a d</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">ream</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> one night and </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">said</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> to him…” (Gen. 20:3)</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">dream</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> and </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">said</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, "Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.” (Matt. 1:20)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Hmmmmm…if not for a dream, Jesus might have been considered illegitimate? </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I would say that’s fairly significant.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">***************</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Yesterday, I ran into someone I hadn’t seen in a long time. She told me that she and her family are praying for Katherine. Then she said, “It’s really weird, but I just had a dream about Katherine a few days ago. In the dream, she was completely well. She was speaking to a large group of people. And there was a little baby with her.”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I cannot tell you how many stories like this we have heard since Katherine’s injury. Different people have shared eerily similar details. In many of the dreams, Katherine is making a speech. In more than one, she is with a baby. Several people have seen her in a purple dress…which is funny, because she doesn’t even like purple. I heard a fascinating story about someone who had never seen Katherine or a picture of her. Never heard of her. This person received a request to pray for Katherine. She asked, “Is she a tall, pretty, blonde girl?” When the affirmative was given, she said, “I had a dream about her last night. She’s going to be fine.” </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I don’t presume to understand. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Is God communicating words of hope through these dreams? Could they be prophetic? Or are the good wishes of those who know of Katherine’s situation causing them to have her image planted in their subconscious minds in such a way that it manifests in these dreams?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It is a mystery. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Only God knows.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But I am pondering these words:</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“…</span></b></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">whatever the origin of a dream, it may become a means by which God communicates with men…”</span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I am listening.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">***************</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I have a very special request:</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Some of the dream stories were shared with us in the early days of ICU, when it was difficult to breathe, much less think or remember. As time went on, I hoped to make a record of these dreams for Katherine. Sadly, loss of memory is just one of the many unfortunate symptoms of menopause. I’m sorry that I've let so many stories slip away, so many details blur together. So I'd like to invite anyone who has ever had a dream about Katherine to send me your story. It doesn’t need to be long…4 or 5 sentences might cover it. Whatever you’re willing to share.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I would love to have you post your story on “comments” below. Recently, I’ve been told that some people have had trouble with it.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This is what you do:</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">1. Hit "comments" at the bottom of this post.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">2. Under "Choose an identity," enter your google account (gmail, etc.) if you have one. </span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If you do not have a google account, hit "sign up here."</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">3. Type in your </span></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">existing email</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> and a password. (2x)</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">4. Under "Display name" put whatever you’re comfortable with. (First name is fine; initials, </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">nom de plume</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, alias, etc.)</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">5. Decipher the squiggly letters under "Word Verification" and type them in the box.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">6. Check "Terms of Service."</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">7. Hit "continue."</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">You should be able to post your comments then. Please let me know if it still doesn’t work.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Thank you so much!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Kim</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">***************</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“…and then, in dreaming,</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The clouds methought would open and show riches</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Ready to drop upon me that, when I waked,</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I cried to dream again.”</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></i></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">William Shakespeare, </span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The Tempest</span></i></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-40878642504478269872009-11-09T17:44:00.000-08:002009-11-29T13:04:49.101-08:00Bliss<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">There is great beauty in symmetry.</span></span></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">You don’t always get it in life. Many times, things are left open-ended, without conclusion or closure.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">One random thing progresses after another, without any discernible pattern.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Symmetry makes me feel safe, like there is order in the universe after all. A bookend on either end of an experience seems to give it more definition. I can understand it better in reflection. Reinforcement is a valuable learning tool.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">As we prepare for huge changes in the next few weeks, it was comforting to receive that second bookend as a little gift.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">***************</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Exactly one month after Katherine’s AVM rupture, I'd posted the following on her Caringbridge site:</span></span></p></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRwtP6ahxA5IuclEFzk2dklirmqDLmOHtKGtQmZVUwOTxk0MjrxaQSk-QcDcHVqBF-2IaNIVoo9qvdeP7dZJrI0owfQUdU9KWxmY36HV3-jR9Lu6t7ZPzxdXK1okyzC4BK43z2D4DL3gA/s1600-h/P5200432_edited-1.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRwtP6ahxA5IuclEFzk2dklirmqDLmOHtKGtQmZVUwOTxk0MjrxaQSk-QcDcHVqBF-2IaNIVoo9qvdeP7dZJrI0owfQUdU9KWxmY36HV3-jR9Lu6t7ZPzxdXK1okyzC4BK43z2D4DL3gA/s400/P5200432_edited-1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402284968163528642" /></span></span></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRwtP6ahxA5IuclEFzk2dklirmqDLmOHtKGtQmZVUwOTxk0MjrxaQSk-QcDcHVqBF-2IaNIVoo9qvdeP7dZJrI0owfQUdU9KWxmY36HV3-jR9Lu6t7ZPzxdXK1okyzC4BK43z2D4DL3gA/s1600-h/P5200432_edited-1.JPG"></a></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Wednesday, May 21, 2008</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:17.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Yesterday, I left the hospital to walk to a spa named "Bliss." Some of Katherine's incredible friends who know about my spine/fibro/artho pain arranged for me have a massage there. On the way, I started grumbling at God. I told Him there were too many babies who weren't wanted in the first place. I reminded Him of all the abusive or just-average mothers in the world. I brought back to His attention the fact that Katherine is the most head-over-heels in-love mother I've ever seen. I questioned His judgment in depriving James of such a mother at such a critical bonding time.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:17.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:17.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Just then, I crossed the street into a church parking lot where I saw the sign above. Obviously, God was sending a subtle reminder that, a.) I shouldn't question providence and, b.) Katherine's brain cells are His property. Then, I noticed a line of large river stones strewn through the parking lot and out into the street directly across from "Bliss." (Is any interpretation needed there?)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:17.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:17.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">This morning I found out that the ventrix had been removed from Katherine's brain.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:17.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:17.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Praise God, from whom all blessings flow....even to grumblers like me.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:17.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Love, Kim</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In trying to refresh my mind about that now-misty time, I went back to May, 2008, in the archives. I discovered that I had introduced the concept of ‘memorial stones’ in a blog just </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">the day before</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> the events described above.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">God’s timing gives me chills.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">***************</span></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">“Bliss” spa is in the ultra-elegant “W” Hotel. The “W” exemplifies extreme LA cool. The décor is slick and modern, but with a twist. Mind-boggling flowers and multiple chic furniture groupings grace the generous spaces. Dramatic low lighting and fragrant candles infuse the atmosphere with an exotic Eastern fusion vibe. Entering the lobby feels like entering another dimension. A little bit like paradise.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><!--StartFragment--></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But the “W” just happens to be less than half a block from the old hospital, our original hotel, and the current apartment in Westwood.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Our introduction to the “W” came as the result of a gift of love. Just prior to her brain injury, Katherine had become involved in a group called “Mothers and Others” at Bel Air Presbyterian. They are an unusually amazing group of young women.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(I have mentioned them before. It was they who trailed the halls of the abandoned old UCLA hospital looking for the sole survivors in the Neuro-Rehab unit in order to bring us lunch every day, tiny children thrown in strollers for the lengthy ride.) As if the constant, costly meals weren’t enough, they took up a collection to send me to “Bliss” for a massage. It is not the most economical place in LA for this service. It represented sacrificial love.</span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Katherine was still in ICU at the time, facing many critical challenges. Leaving the hospital that day for my appointment at “Bliss,” I felt drained and discouraged. The “miracle euphoria” was wearing off. Although we were still surrounded by teams of encouragers, the reality of what lay ahead was extremely sobering. It was starting to sink in…denial was dissipating.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I walked across the street into a church parking lot to take a shortcut to the “W.” I couldn’t shake the questioning going on in my head. In a way, I guess I was asking God if He really knew what He was doing. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">At the moment I was thinking those things, I looked up to see the sign right in front of my face. I couldn’t believe it. I just love it when He’s that overt. Sometimes I’m kind of slow with modern parable symbols. But then, when I looked down and saw the big stone at my feet, I was overwhelmed. There was a line of them going through the parking lot, across the next street, right up to the steps leading to Bliss. It reminded me of the trail of crumbs Hansel and Gretl left on the forest floor to find their way back home. I </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">got</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> it that time.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Months later, Katherine was treated to the same experience at Bliss. As my mother and I sat in the pleasant waiting area, the manager came up and started a conversation. She was moved by Katherine’s situation, and very generously gave us gift certicates to come back for a spa pedicure as her guests.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It never worked out for us to go back while Mother was out here. But Katherine, the ultimate Frugalista, never forgot about those gift certificates.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Friday was Katherine and Jay’s 5</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> anniversary. They came into LA and we had a little celebration before Jay took Katherine out for a fabulous dinner. The next morning, we went back to Bliss to cash in the gift certificates. She wanted to make sure they were used before we leave Westwood.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We had a lovely time together, chilling in the ‘relaxing room’ afterwards…scarfing down free food and tea. As we were (very reluctantly) leaving, I noticed that the same kind of river stones I’d seen in the church parking lot a year and a half ago had been used as filler in the flowerbeds at the “W.” Evidently, the truck originally holding them must have taken that same shortcut through the parking lot. </span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I reached down and picked up the most tangible memorial stone I’ve collected yet: (Thanks, W!)</span></span></span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi30KV3ZAxTNmhOBOaWJnv_rQzUpWuVmd2rIacxhMvaZieJNAduqmpTkWBNGK4VXEknJdnfg37yGuc92jkOqChwKSKA35l3hyphenhyphenXHqFeqMxfND5cl5v936QhsWREhPMzQ2ojczLunjXZgfLg/s200/IMG_0314.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402285903743246818" /> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">...A fitting second bookend to this time in Westwood. A reminder of how far we’ve come since the first time I visited “Bliss.”</span></span></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> The concept of collecting stones of remembrance is scattered throughout the Old Testament. In each case, they are to be symbolic reminders that God has intervened in the world in some definitive way…whether it’s altering the natural order of things, such as parting raging waters; giving supernatural help in achieving victory over enemies; or by manifesting an appearance of some kind, such as in the making of a covenant. In each case, His message is: </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Remember this. Carry it with you in your heart. Don’t forget it the next time adversity comes, and you can’t see me or hear my voice. I am with you even then. Remember how I have rescued you in the past. Remember how I have touched you. Remember how I have made a way, when none existed. Hold fast to these memories, for I am the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. I will never, never, never leave you or forsake you. Even when the great darkness obscures my face, I am with you still. I will come to you again. And I will </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">act. </span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I will fight against those who fight against you. The victory is already mine.</span></span></i></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> In this journey of life, we will fight one battle after the next, face one hardship after another. We will be afraid, we will stumble, we will want to turn back. Sometimes we may want to give up, maybe even lie down under a tree and pray for death, as the prophet Elijah did. But God has said that He will help us, rescue us, defend us, and comfort us every time we earnestly turn to him in our fear and despair. We are to carry reminders of how He has in the past.</span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Carrying those stones uphill will make us stronger.</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And the long, hard road leads straight to Bliss.</span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">That is home.</span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">**************</p><p class="MsoNormal"><!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:22.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Unicode MS', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 20px; font-family:'Times New Roman', 'Times Serif', serif;"></span></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Unicode MS', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><div style=" margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family:'Times New Roman', 'Times Serif', serif;font-size:inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><h2 class="me" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-weight: bold; ">bliss</h2> </span></div><p class="d" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', 'Times Serif', serif; font-size: inherit; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20px; "></p><div style=" margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family:'Times New Roman', 'Times Serif', serif;font-size:inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><div class="body" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><div class="pbk" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 15px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span class="pg" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: bold; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;">–noun</span><table class="luna-Ent" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); display: block; width: 455px; "><tbody style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><tr style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><td width="35" class="dnindex" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(123, 123, 123); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: bold; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; ">1.</td><td style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;">supreme happiness; utter joy or contentment: <span class="ital-inline" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;">wedded bliss.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><table class="luna-Ent" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); display: block; width: 455px; "><tbody style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><tr style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><td width="35" class="dnindex" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(123, 123, 123); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: bold; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; ">2.</td><td style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span class="labset" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-style: normal; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span class="ital-inline" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;">Theology</span>. </span>the joy of heaven.</td></tr></tbody></table><table class="luna-Ent" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); display: block; width: 455px; "><tbody style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><tr style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><td width="35" class="dnindex" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(123, 123, 123); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: bold; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; ">3.</td><td style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;">heaven; paradise: <span class="ital-inline" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;">the road to eternal bliss.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><table class="luna-Ent" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); display: block; width: 455px; "><tbody style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><tr style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><td width="35" class="dnindex" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(123, 123, 123); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: bold; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; ">4.</td><td style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span class="labset" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-style: normal; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span class="ital-inline" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 1.25em; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;">Archaic</span>. </span>a cause of great joy or happiness.</td></tr></tbody></table></div></div></span></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', 'Times Serif', serif; font-size: inherit; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><br /></div><p></p></span></span><p></p><table class="MsoNormalTable" border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" style="border-collapse:collapse;mso-table-layout-alt:fixed;border:none; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt"><tbody> </tbody></table> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;"><i>…the more understanding and knowledge we have by the gracious leading of the Holy Spirit, the more we shall see and know our failings. And always, the more that we see them, the more naturally we shall long to be completely filled with love and bliss. </i></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>For we are made for endless joy and bliss</i></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>, and our natural substance is now blissful in God, has been so since it was made, and shall be so without end.” (14</i></span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>th</i></span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i> showing)</i></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i> “In the same manner we know that when man fell so deeply and so wretchedly by sin, there was no other help to restore man but through Him who made man. </i></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>He Who made man for love wills, by the same love, to restore him to his former bliss, and give him even more</i></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>.” (2nd showing)</i></span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i> For it is God’s will that we hold ourselves in His Comfort with all our might, </i></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>for bliss is everlasting, while pain is passing</i></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i> and shall be reduced to nothingness for those who shall be saved. Therefore it is not God’s will that we follow the feelings of pain, sorrowing, and mourning on their own account, but that we immediately pass beyond them and hold ourselves in the endless delight that is God. (8</i></span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>th</i></span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i> showing)</i></span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:9.0pt;mso-bidi- font-family:Verdana;mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana;font-size:13.0pt;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i> (From </i></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>The Revelation of Divine Love <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">by Dame Julian of Norwich (14th cent</span>.), </i></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i>translated by M.L. del Mastro</i></span></span>)</o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:12px;">**************</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEHYbFsM1PYlNShmhalzRhHqqxyR2lotZoNX27h29FmotkuNeACos_lw4uHIh-INYpzybGEkWb-mv8u-EQ2Ok0LwRd8n8t_MH4vSTb3uzpNzy60TwJDAVMuLUwFv8qQWf-S6gbkGMa5Xg/s320/IMG_0306.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402285497965561154" /></p></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(Wedded Bliss.)</span><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div></div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-64308688318813522172009-11-03T13:24:00.000-08:002009-11-04T08:21:34.846-08:00Restoration Time<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzvF4JI2WXhddi9DelisZ8wYORgzqhwxNRE3HhBNeAYnwBSrAfuQRD634ZBzlD5y5x2qRVNj-Sod9CJpx12AkefD6paOa2hJEwtTAuUrJaPX7Di-ihz6JXCfSFJEET6qjUALZsvQSHg0/s1600-h/IMG_0152.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzvF4JI2WXhddi9DelisZ8wYORgzqhwxNRE3HhBNeAYnwBSrAfuQRD634ZBzlD5y5x2qRVNj-Sod9CJpx12AkefD6paOa2hJEwtTAuUrJaPX7Di-ihz6JXCfSFJEET6qjUALZsvQSHg0/s200/IMG_0152.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399999550051439634" /></a><div><br /></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">October 16 was James’ 2nd birthday. Following an Arnold family tradition, he had a “family only” party this year. (He'd been blessed with a<b> huge</b> one for his first.) Because Katherine and Amie’s birthdays were less than two weeks apart, we'd instituted an “every-other-year” party schedule during their childhoods. The Mom couldn’t handle two cake-smearing scream-fests in such close proximity.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Katherine decided that this was a good model to follow.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Unfortunately, the day didn’t turn out exactly as planned, because Katherine had an unexpected doctor’s appointment at the time when she wanted to have the party. Instead, we just had cupcakes and presents after a nice dinner that James’ daddy prepared at the apartment in LA. James’ aunties Amie and Grace were the only guests. James was delighted with the Elmo arrangement I’d assembled on the table, but wasn’t sure about the rest of the deal. He burst into tears when we all got in his face to sing “Happy Birthday.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Following that, he immediately began acting his chronological age. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After supper, Katherine tried to get him to sit on the sofa with her to watch his new birthday movie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He clung to me like his life depended on it. When she pulled him closer to her, he struck out at her. That’s when I noticed the scratch on her neck. "He's very angry at me," Katherine said when I asked her about it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Although it broke my heart to hear those words coming out of her mouth, in some ways it was a relief to finally get it all out on the table…acknowledge the elephant in the room. “He just doesn’t <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">understand,</b>” I told her.</p><p class="MsoNormal">***************</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next morning, I checked my email. A timely devotional from Joni* had arrived:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My Birthday Tree</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Early the next morning Jacob took the stone he had placed under his head and set it up as a pillar and poured oil on top of it.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Gen. 28:18)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">What a beautiful month this is! I remember the trees back on our family farm in Maryland rustling their colorful skirts, ablaze in wild reds and crazy yellows. Of all the oaks, maples, and pines on our farm, one particular tree was my favorite. It was an old, spreading maple growing by the spring house. In October its leaves were resplendent in red, tinged with purple edges. And I know that on my birthday, October 15, this maple would reach its peak of color as it did every year. For this reason, I called it my birthday tree.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Each year my tree marked how far I'd come or what I had or hadn't done. It was my "stone of remembrance."</span></span></b><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Jacob had a stone of remembrance. He heaped together a pillar of stones to mark the spot where God had pledged in a dream to watch over Jacob and to bless his descendants. </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The pillar of stones was a visible, concrete reminder that God had touched his life.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That's what birthdays are, too--our private marks in time, our stones of remembrance.</span></span></b><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> I want my birthday, like that maple tree, to be a mark of change in my life. Something to show progress and growth…</span></span><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">God’s timing. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">October 15 is the day of my father’s death. October 16 is the day of James’ birth. Brooks and I just returned from his dad's 85th birthday party in Palm Beach...one of the two living greatgrandfathers (named James) for whom our own little James Thompson Wolf is named. It’s strange how many of my closest friends have October birthdays.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Milestones. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The night we celebrated James’ birthday, Katherine happened to introduce that topic into our conversation. James' birthday was somewhat sobering for her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A reminder of all she’s missed.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><b>On the morning of April 21, 2008, James was a well-loved, 6-month-old, breastfed baby. His mommy was a beautiful, vivacious, active, hands-on parent. She had a lovely voice that constantly crooned comforting words to her little one.</b></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A sweet moment is crystallized in my mind: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">We are sitting on the sofa in the Malibu apartment. Katherine picks her baby up and holds him high over her head. She smiles into his face and sing-songs, “Jamesie Boy, my little love nugget!” He bursts into giggles and drools down into her face. She laughs, too.<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Katherine couldn’t stand to be away from that baby. I’ve never seen a mother so dizzily besotted. James was enveloped in a cozy cocoon of warm, happy love.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But then she went away.</p><p class="MsoNormal">***************</p><p class="MsoNormal">James has had many “mothers” since then. A village, in fact. Katherine’s close friends Anna and Andy took him into their home and treated him as their own in the early weeks of ICU. Anna was pregnant with their first child at the time. Jay’s sister Sarah came back from Africa to care for him for several months after that. James’ two grandmothers have been the primary care-takers since then, greatly assisted by Jay’s aunt Judy, Katherine’s cousins Michelle and Elizabeth, Jay’s sister Mary Austin and cousin Natalie, and many wonderful friends like Miss Liz, Miss Cindy, and Miss Lacey. James is a lucky little boy to have so much love. His grandmothers are blessed to be able to have such uniquely close bonds with a grandchild. He adores Honey and Mimi, and, of course, we absolutely adore him back.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Neither of us is his <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">mommy</b>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He just doesn’t really realize that right now.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Frequently, I feel guilty about my relationship with James. It seems as if I’m stealing something from my own child, taking candy away from my own baby. It’s <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">her</b> sugar I’m getting. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">Her</b> affection I’m borrowing, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">her</b> kisses I’m stealing. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In LA, I'm sometimes mistaken for James’ mother. Celebs have set an example for late-life child-raising, so it’s not outside the realm of possibility. But as flattering as the mistake may be, I make sure that I work the distinction into the conversation as soon as possible. “No, I’m his <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">grand</b>mother,” I emphasize.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As a child, I was in love with both of my grandmothers. Sometimes they were more fun than my poor mother, who had the thankless job of being my primary disciplinarian. But, still, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">my mama was my mama. </b>It was <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">she</b> to whom I turned first with a boo-boo or a broken heart.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So, a couple of weeks ago, I started singing a little song to James:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"> "Honey is your <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">GRAND</b>mama, And Mimi is your <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">GRAND</b>mama, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">But Mommy is your <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">REAL</b> mama</i>!"</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I have no idea if he has a clue what any of that means.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">It makes me feel sad and angry.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Katherine has been outrageously robbed. Pestilential locusts have come in like the Mongolian Horde and raped, pillaged, and destroyed much that is beautiful and sacred. They have invaded the sweet sanctuary of a mother’s intimacy with her first-born child and knocked over the altar, spilled the wine, and broken the stained glass windows. They have eaten away precious moments that can never be regained, gorged themselves on memories never made. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think that James’ second birthday had the unfortunate side effect of materializing Katherine’s realization of these thefts and losses. In some ways, it served as a milestone reminding her of missed opportunities, adventures, and intimacies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I can imagine her subconscious screaming, “Where has the time gone? Where have I been? How much did I sleep through? Can we please replay that part with the 9-month-old little boy? The 1-year-old?? Can I watch him learn to crawl…to drink from a cup…say his first word? How is it possible that I missed all that? I didn’t get to do the things I wanted to do for him!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"I will </span></i><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">repay you</span></i></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> for the years the locusts have eaten-the great locust and the young locust,the other locusts and the locust swarm…You will have plenty to eat, until you are full,and you will praise the name of the LORD your God,who has worked wonders for you…” (Joel 2:25-26)</span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">God’s got to repay Katherine, Jay, and James for a lot of locust damage. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s a good thing they have the assurance policy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">***************</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">James is very confused right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He does seem angry with his mother. I wonder what’s going on in his subconscious as well. Does he think his mother abandoned him? Does he fully understand that The Before and The After are even the same person? Is he mad at her for changing? For not turning out to be who he thought she was?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s normal for kids to hate their parents, occasionally. We may give them good reason. Sometimes we’re not capable of giving them what they need at the time they need it. It might be because they don’t understand our motives…can’t see our hearts. Don’t realize that we’re just flawed human beings doing the best we can. Or perhaps it may be misdirected anger…self-hatred or frustration that can’t be realized. Or simple thwarted self-will.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A child may interpret discipline as cruelty.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We have to love our children enough to let them hate us on occasion. We may have to allow them to think we’ve abandoned them when we haven’t. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sometimes we may feel as if our heavenly Daddy has abandoned us, as well. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But He hasn’t. It’s just that we can’t always see His heart.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We have to try to focus on the Big Picture. In the end, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">all will be well</b>. Everything will be resolved. We will understand fully, even as we're fully understood. Until then, we struggle through this mortal existence with partial clarity, doing the best we can with the cards we’ve been dealt. We fall, and rise back up; we’re broken, and then mended.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And, hopefully, we give each other grace. Much, much grace.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I believe there will be healing, restoration, and forgiveness. Where there is dismantling, there will be rebuilding; where there is unraveling, there will be reknitting; where there is separation, there will be rebonding. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Because I believe this, I have to trust that all will be well with my daughter and her son one day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I go back to the memorial stone I received on the airplane ride mentioned in <i>“Hope against Hope.”</i> (<i>Archives, 12-14-08</i>) I remember what 'God’s messenger’ told me then. His sister, the mother of a young child, had a very severe stroke, resulting in a coma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The doctors were completely without hope. But there was a miracle. Although the young mother missed much critical time with that child, he grew to be closer to her than any of her others. And the most well-adjusted.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">***************</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A couple of days after his birthday, James decided that he’d really test out this "Terrible Two" thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He morphed into Sid Vicious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He was awful to Katherine, hitting her, scratching at her, and pushing her away. "James, please don’t be so mean to Mama. It hurts my feelings.” Katherine said to him. When I came over to the sofa to intervene, he ran off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“I’m sorry, BooBoo,” I tried to comfort her. “He’s just acting out. It’ll get better.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>“I know it will, Mom. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">I can wait</b>,” she assured me.</p><p class="MsoNormal">("But how long’s it gonna take?” I wondered.)</p><p class="MsoNormal">***************</p><p class="MsoNormal">Sunday morning, James came up to me and sweetly begged, <b>“Hode ju, Mimi, hode ju!”</b> Although I was putting makeup on at the time, I picked him up and hugged him tight. We looked at ourselves hugging in the mirror. His arms clenched around my neck, he sang, “Mimi is my <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">GRAND</b>mama.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I took James in to see his mother, he didn’t fight me or try to run away. I handed him to her in bed. Putting his arms around her neck, he said, “Good munnin', Mama.”</p><p class="MsoNormal">“Do you love me, James?” Katherine asked. </p><p class="MsoNormal">“I wuz you, Mama,” James answered. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Then he smeared a little wet nose matter on her face.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">One day, everything’s gonna be alright.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">***************</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">“This is what the Lord says: At just the right time, I will respond to you.</span></span></i><i><u><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#001EE6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></u></i><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">On the day of salvation I will help you…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; font-family:Verdana, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sing for joy, O heavens! Rejoice, O earth! Burst into song, O mountains! For the Lord has comforted his people and will have compassion on them in their suffering…</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Can a mother forget her nursing child? Can she feel no love for the child she has borne? But even if that were possible, I would not forget you! See, I have written your name on the palms of my hands…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Soon your descendants will come back, and all who are trying to destroy you will go away. Look around you and see</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, for all your children will come back to you</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. “As surely as I live,” says the Lord “they will be like jewels or bridal ornaments for you to display…</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:16.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This is what the Sovereign Lord says: “See, I will give a signal to the godless nations. </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">They will carry your little sons back to you in their arms</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">; they will bring your daughters on their shoulders…”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:16.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Promises of Restoration, excerpted from Isaiah 49)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:16.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">*</span></span></i><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Joni Eareckson Tada, www.communications@joniandfriends.org</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzvF4JI2WXhddi9DelisZ8wYORgzqhwxNRE3HhBNeAYnwBSrAfuQRD634ZBzlD5y5x2qRVNj-Sod9CJpx12AkefD6paOa2hJEwtTAuUrJaPX7Di-ihz6JXCfSFJEET6qjUALZsvQSHg0/s1600-h/IMG_0152.JPG"></a><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKXVAOfMLIHHSjm7wb5KkNQnppxJ29tJEfsqqL483Xb0-IFkArhZs5RIa8xSQ102UmRNj3sNiLQAeRHj1ZFBtnW8to36G2bc5flPeydAshHwEuPgpVpdDy1XmkXnm1KHiRvab3svlEBI/s200/IMG_0164.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400001000726515634" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWFhQaj6zShrMkms7cIkgTVVx0y7ptQNbZdIYB1fOdluukGoCVi_pNg4NfsQclniUSbV2hfhWxNV4rKwCEIOQNAm8hR6ftgdqH0Vm_qfbZo-Z9ENPZs69-dqbjf034WNboqY4IuAShPcA/s200/IMG_0165.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399999556088002882" /><br /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 151px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio-RhBiBE93neIsopHgM0eNwhBAmq_eCqCdqYSmp5llLzYAlqS0G0fPOv5RQz2gTMxeIgt628G87gH26kMD9IjyaAaaqhtugDAcWSVcZiPu-Gj7ZFgC9JnEv2yIg9DsD7_p9FkJ4A3nYw/s200/IMG_0196.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399997793721489810" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ucBBASbbiuXNjImBJ967CP4J8MfRFbl9N0OjQ36e6x1DCWlkBS1dH52FLxT9MKzKkexwtee8-THjwpLnoJhr_GHtu35CkJv5n5eqI67FLK1frVoVHx6mJSOxzp-ZQpZSSq0Etl1wW88/s200/IMG_0207.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399998492634926642" /><br /><br /></div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-668564752732504764.post-34137328537001817612009-10-30T09:22:00.000-07:002009-10-30T10:07:27.779-07:00Hi, Friends,<div><br /></div><div>Just a note to say that I'm able to write again, and hope to post some thoughts by Monday. </div><div><br /></div><div>In addition to rose-smelling time with James, I forgot my laptop when we went to stay in Pomona last week. (I <b>always</b> forget something!)</div><div><br /></div><div>I did have some good intercessory prayer time. Having seen it's great efficacy in our own situation, I am trying to be more faithful and consistent in interceding for others. I would particularly like to ask you to join me in praying for the situation mentioned in the first comment on the previous blog. A little 3 1/2 year old boy has been diagnosed with leukemia. How my heart goes out to this family! And my prayers go<b> up</b> for them.</div><div><br /></div><div>Life is so very fragile. Attending therapy with Katherine at Casa Colina this week, my heart broke for some of the new patients there. I pray that they will be given the gift of HOPE in spite of their seemingly hopeless circumstances. Our own problems seem "light and temporary" in comparison to those.</div><div><br /></div><div>We are all in the same lifeboat in a stormy sea, as Chesterton says, so let us love one another truly, from the heart.</div><div><br /></div><div>Find some joy this weekend. </div><div><br /></div><div>And share it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Love, Kim</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFh8_0qpQSUaQA2-tNR5aMCwScY_Oq7NP5sPoskgBDG-IM8JpsIK-dO7NZyaHbyMwIzUPSxGeRGKqG4w8RGGrfbrMLHw3YfbVEDrACGpITfgU0QNCuh0xXxLCP4G6kWV4t5-9PPEX5e-s/s400/IMG_1207.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398439713601599666" /></div>Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10202745403355887348noreply@blogger.com2