tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20668975898241089622024-03-14T11:06:35.810-05:00what we areKristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.comBlogger360125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-4898998962560970702012-11-20T23:58:00.002-06:002012-11-21T00:01:48.017-06:00an open email to the sisters (and brothers) in ChristI have been so blessed to be leading a prayer group for moms at our school this year. When I was approached by our principal about it during the summer, I was fairly terrified of saying yes, however after prayer, nudging and confirmation from my Father, I did say yes. This email is one of several I have sent out to my Moms in Touch prayer group. We meet each Friday to pray for our school, our children, and so each Thursday I send out a reminder email and try to throw in some encouragement or something that the Lord has put on my heart to share with my praying momma sisters. This particular email came in response to a particular situation in my life that He compelled me to share a portion of, and as I heard back from a couple ladies, it's not a struggle that is mine alone. That being said, I feel the need to share this letter here as well, to encourage my sisters in Christ (and any brothers that may be reading). We are in this thing together, yet we each have different roles to play, as intended by God... I won't rewrite the email up here... just know it was written to a specific group of ladies, but the majority of it applies to the entire body of Christ:<br />
<br />
Hello praying mommas!<br />
<br />
I hope you are having a good week with the Lord. Even if the week has not been so good, my prayer is that you've felt His presence all the same, if not even more. I am sad to say that I will not be able to pray with you tomorrow, as I will be spending the day with my mom and my aunt, however I leave you in the sweet and capable hands of Melissa Khan. There will be a few others also I already know cannot attend, so those who are able please come. I'm sure the 3rd, 4th and 5th grades will be blessed by your prayers over them. Our attribute of God this month is that He is our strength.<br />
<br />
If you were wondering why the whole "don't let anything steal your joy and therefore your strength" thing was so heavy on my heart last week, you weren't the only one. I knew there had been some frustrations in my week, some letting go of my joy, and therefore my strength. I've come to know that last week was preparing me for this one, involving a very discouraging Tuesday. I can say by that afternoon, my joy was gone without a trace - and so my strength went right along with it. I won't go into details here because they aren't for sharing, but I do want to share with you what has happened in my heart since praying with a wonderful, wise, loving mentor on Tuesday night. God is using this to change me. <br />
<br />
"Comparison is the thief of joy." ~Theodore Roosevelt<br />
<br />
I'm not talking about clothes, cars, jewelry, houses, waistlines or any of that, although we all know that these types of comparisons can and do diminish our contentment and cause us to focus on our lack. I'm talking about something much deeper, something lasting. I'm talking about our spiritual gifts, our ministries, what the Lord leads us to or calls us to do and about how hurtful it can be to have our's compared to another's. This kind of comparison can make you feel small, ineffective and worthless to the cause of Christ. I understand well the feeling of being passionate about something, and I know it's easy to want your passion to be contagious - so that others share the same passion. But when we read Paul's words in 1 Corinthians 12, starting in verse 4, we can see that God's plan is <em>not</em> for us all to have the exact same passions:<br />
<br />
There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> distributes them. <span style="font-size: small;"><span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-5" id="ecxen-NIV-28640"><sup class="ecxversenum">5 </sup>There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord.</span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-6" id="ecxen-NIV-28641"><sup class="ecxversenum">6 </sup>There are different kinds of working, but in all of them and in everyone<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> it is the same God<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> at work.</span> <br /><span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-7" id="ecxen-NIV-28642"><sup class="ecxversenum">7 </sup><strong><u>Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good.<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup></u></strong></span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-8" id="ecxen-NIV-28643"><sup class="ecxversenum">8 </sup>To one there is given through the Spirit a message of wisdom,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> to another a message of knowledge<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> by means of the same Spirit,</span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-9" id="ecxen-NIV-28644"><sup class="ecxversenum">9 </sup>to another faith<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> by that one Spirit,</span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-10" id="ecxen-NIV-28645"><sup class="ecxversenum">10 </sup>to another miraculous powers,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> to another prophecy,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> to another distinguishing between spirits,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> to another speaking in different kinds of tongues,<sup class="ecxfootnote">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20corinthians%2012&version=NIV#fen-NIV-28645a" target="_blank" title="See footnote a"><span style="color: #8c5940;">a</span></a>]</sup><sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> and to still another the interpretation of tongues.<sup class="ecxfootnote">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20corinthians%2012&version=NIV#fen-NIV-28645b" target="_blank" title="See footnote b"><span style="color: #8c5940;">b</span></a>]</sup></span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-11" id="ecxen-NIV-28646"><sup class="ecxversenum">11 </sup>All these are the work of one and the same Spirit,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> and he distributes them to each one, just as he determines.</span></span><br />
<div dir="ltr">
<span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-11"></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-12"><sup class="ecxversenum">12 </sup><strong><u>Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> so it is with Christ.<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup></u></strong></span><u> </u><span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-13" id="ecxen-NIV-28648"><sup class="ecxversenum">13 </sup>For we were all baptized<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> by<sup class="ecxfootnote">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20corinthians%2012&version=NIV#fen-NIV-28648c" target="_blank" title="See footnote c"><span style="color: #8c5940;">c</span></a>]</sup> one Spirit<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup>—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink.<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup></span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-14" id="ecxen-NIV-28649"><sup class="ecxversenum">14 </sup>Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many.</span><span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-15" id="ecxen-NIV-28650"><sup class="ecxversenum">15 </sup>Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body.</span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-16" id="ecxen-NIV-28651"><sup class="ecxversenum">16 </sup>And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body.</span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-17" id="ecxen-NIV-28652"><sup class="ecxversenum">17 </sup>If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be?</span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-18" id="ecxen-NIV-28653"><sup class="ecxversenum">18<u> </u></sup><strong><u>But in fact God has placed<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be.<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup></u></strong></span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-19" id="ecxen-NIV-28654"><sup class="ecxversenum">19 </sup>If they were all one part, where would the body be?</span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-20" id="ecxen-NIV-28655"><sup class="ecxversenum">20 </sup>As it is, there are many parts, but one body.</span> <br /><span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-21" id="ecxen-NIV-28656"><sup class="ecxversenum">21 </sup>The eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you!” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you!”</span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-22" id="ecxen-NIV-28657"><sup class="ecxversenum">22 </sup>On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable,</span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-23" id="ecxen-NIV-28658"><sup class="ecxversenum">23 </sup>and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty,</span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-24" id="ecxen-NIV-28659"><sup class="ecxversenum">24 </sup>while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it,</span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-25" id="ecxen-NIV-28660"><sup class="ecxversenum">25 </sup>so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other.</span> <span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-26" id="ecxen-NIV-28661"><sup class="ecxversenum">26 </sup>If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.</span> <br /><span class="ecxtext ecx1Cor-12-27" id="ecxen-NIV-28662"><sup class="ecxversenum">27 </sup>Now you are the body of Christ,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> and each one of you is a part of it.<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup></span> <br /> <br />When we compare what God has placed in our lives, on our hearts, what good deeds He has given us to do with what He is doing through others, it takes away from the overall goal we all <em>do</em> share which is making much of Jesus. What if instead of making comparisons we celebrated our different callings, leadings, gifts, passions and encouraged one another in using them for His glory, so that much may be done in His Name? What if, instead of attempting to impose our walks on others, we could simply say to one another, "I see what He's doing in you and through you. Isn't He amazing?" being free to celebrate that and then go about the perhaps very different purpose he has for us? <br /> <br />You know by now about me that I love to scour blogs for encouragement and wisdom. Now make no mistake, I realize no blog writers can impress into my heart wisdom like the Word does, but I can say that He has spoken to me through plenty of blog posts. Here's a bit of what I discovered last night on </span><a href="http://www.gracecoversme.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #8c5940;">www.gracecoversme.com</span></a>:<br />
<br />
"It doesn't matter how many people you lead or influence, if you ever see the fulfillment of your dreams, or if you measure up to some perfect standard. <strong><u>It matters most - and to the most important people - that you are faithful in the unseen, in the daily things.</u></strong> Those things matter because they add up to a God-filled life." {from a post titled Enough on 11-9-11}<br />
<br />
"...Which is best? They're all best. There is no mold, no right way of showing Jesus for where the Spirit is, there is freedom. And He has made us all different, combining us to all make a collage, that when you step back and look you suddenly see: It's Jesus! {from a post titled Different Strokes on 4-1-2011 where she compares the body of Christ to the different mediums involved in art}<br />
<br />
Again, this may only be something I'm currently dealing with, but I imagine that all of you will at one point or another if you haven't already.<br />
<br />
So let me say to each of you, I may not know a specific good deed that any of you have done for the Lord lately, and I may not know what He's led you to accomplish with Him, or what He has caused to be a passion in your life. But I have seen glimpses of each of your hearts as we pray together for our children, and my dear sisters, I know <em>full well </em>that He's working through you. And I celebrate that with you right now! Let's support and encourage one another, for we are each a part of His plan, a part of His story. Let's use what makes us different to make much of Jesus...<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="ecxtext ecxHeb-10-19"><sup class="ecxversenum">19 </sup>Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> to enter the Most Holy Place<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> by the blood of Jesus,</span> <span class="ecxtext ecxHeb-10-20" id="ecxen-NIV-30154"><sup class="ecxversenum">20 </sup>by a new and living way<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> opened for us through the curtain,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> that is, his body,</span> <span class="ecxtext ecxHeb-10-21" id="ecxen-NIV-30155"><sup class="ecxversenum">21 </sup>and since we have a great priest<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> over the house of God,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup></span> <span class="ecxtext ecxHeb-10-22" id="ecxen-NIV-30156"><sup class="ecxversenum">22 </sup>let us draw near to God<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> and having our bodies washed with pure water.<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup></span> <span class="ecxtext ecxHeb-10-23" id="ecxen-NIV-30157"><sup class="ecxversenum">23 </sup>Let us hold unswervingly to the hope<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> we profess,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> for he who promised is faithful.<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup></span> <span class="ecxtext ecxHeb-10-24" id="ecxen-NIV-30158"><sup class="ecxversenum">24 </sup><strong><u>And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup></u></strong></span><strong><u> </u></strong><span class="ecxtext ecxHeb-10-25" id="ecxen-NIV-30159"><strong><u><sup class="ecxversenum">25 </sup>not giving up meeting together,<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup></u></strong>—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. {Hebrews 10:19-25}</span><br /> <br />And borrowing from Christine Hoover at </span><a href="http://www.gracecoversme.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #8c5940;">www.gracecoversme.com</span></a> again, "You there, with your unique talents, passions, and gifts. Go in grace and freedom. Tell them about Jesus with your life."<br />
<br />
Choosing His joy and strength,<br />
Kristin<br />
<br />
PS A few things on strength:<br />
<br />
"Really - <strong><u>if nothing can separate me from the Love of the Lord - can anything separate me from the Joy of the Lord?</u></strong><br />
<strong><u>If the joy of the Lord is my strength, then why let anything steal my strength?"</u> </strong>-Ann Voskamp<br />
<br />
Whatever I have, wherever I am, <u><strong>I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am</strong>.</u> Philippians 4:13 {MSG}<br />
<br />
<strong><u>It is God who arms me with strength</u> </strong>and keeps my way secure. 2 Samuel 22:33 {NIV}<br />
<br />
<span class="ecxtext ecx1Chr-16-10">let the hearts of those who seek the <span class="ecxsmall-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> rejoice.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="ecxtext ecx1Chr-16-11" id="ecxen-NIV-10832"><sup class="ecxversenum"> </sup>Look to the <span class="ecxsmall-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> and his <strong><u>strength</u></strong>; </span><span class="ecxindent-1"><span class="ecxtext ecx1Chr-16-11">seek<sup class="ecxcrossreference"></sup> his face always. 1 Chronicles 16:10-11</span></span><br /><span class="ecxindent-1"><span class="ecxtext ecx1Chr-16-11"></span></span> <br /><span class="ecxindent-1"><span class="ecxtext ecx1Chr-16-11">Splendor and majesty are before him; <span class="ecxindent-1"><span class="ecxtext ecx1Chr-16-27"><u><strong>strength and joy are in his dwelling place</strong>.</u> 1 Chronicles 16:27</span></span></span></span></span></div>
Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-1118597505552409382012-10-20T23:04:00.002-05:002012-10-20T23:04:17.268-05:00it's not my story, it's Histhe Lord is compelling me to share this story - one of His many stories - although a part of me doesn't really want to. Maybe it's the private side of me or the prideful part of me, as there is some shame on myself in the story. Either way, He wants it told, wants it read, so I will write it.
<br />
<br />
For several months now we've been visited each week, once and sometimes more, by an older man who lives near our house. A little north and a little west of our house, on a street that ends up on the local news sometimes and for not good reasons. The first time he came was when Jonathan still worked from home at our dining table. The man simply stood out on the sidewalk looking in the dining room window until he caught Jonathan's attention. He said he needed food or money or both. Neither of us had a bit of cash, a problem with debit cards I suppose, so Jonathan fixed him a meal. Before we knew it Miles came back from his room with a few dollars to give to the stranger.<br />
<br />
Soon he came back and kept coming. He wanted to work for us in exchange for money. He wanted us to call him Shorty and after a while he told us he hoped he could depend on us for regular work. We don't know much about his life, how he got to this point. All we know is that he rents one side of a duplex from someone who seems to change the rules all the time and take advantage of his tenants. And we know that God sent him to our door. So the deal is this: he comes once a week to work outside and we pay him for that work with a bit of money and some groceries and a meal before he leaves with a "cold drink" which he'd rather <em>not</em> be water.<br />
<br />
Shorty usually comes on a set day each week when Jonathan is here and can handle things with him. Sometimes he shows up unexpectedly when the kids and I are alone and although I try to fight it, it can still make me feel uncomfortable when he does, maybe more accurately I feel frustrated. Yes, that's it. Frustration. <em>See the shame?</em><br />
<br />
So now for the story the Lord wants you to read. That's right, all that you've read so far is just leading up to the real good part. Back in early September {yes, I've kept this story to myself that long - for several reasons}, Jonathan was in Nashville for his work for a few days. It was a rough week for me with trying to get the kids to school {on time would be nice} and homework and sibling struggles and dinner and Wednesday night church and my nursery work and <em>one of my own throws up behind the nursery counter during check-in</em> and I'm just a little tired and <em>a lot overwhelmed</em> by Thursday afternoon. I put Milla down for a nap, made sure Miles and Ella were occupied and I had Elijah bring his math homework to do next to me as I tried to rest on my bed for a while. After a little while I slept between questions on circumference and the rest was so nice for this weary mom. Then Ella ran in with, "Mom! Mr. Shorty's at the door!" And I was frustrated and tired and I did not want to deal with him right then, did not want to go to the door.<br />
<br />
But I did go to the door, though not without a heavy sigh as I approached it. The kids heard the sigh. I opened the door and said, "You're supposed to be here tomorrow" and he says, "Oh, well what is today?" and I say "Thursday." He said he was confused about the day and I believed him because really, when you wake up each day "when the Lord wakes you," as he says, and you set out in search of work and food for that day, I imagine the days do sort of blend together. I explained that Jonathan would be home late that night and that he should come back tomorrow for work. He said ok and then asked, "You got anything good?" I did not have any cash but I told him I'd get him some dinner. And I closed the door and I sighed again because I was tired of the needs of the children in my house and I felt overwhelmed by the needs on my doorstep. Milla was still sleeping and there was hope for my nap to continue...<br />
<br />
As I gathered food for him {four Sister Schubert sausage rolls, chips, two packages of cheese on club crackers, two granola bars and an oatmeal cream pie} along with a plastic cup of root beer on ice, I wondered about his t-shirt because I had not seen him wear it before. I became strangely curious about it as I took his dinner out to him, handed him the drink. I told him to come back the next day at the usual time {between 10 and 11:00}. As he walked off I saw that the back of his black shirt read SERVANT in a white box and above that it said <a href="http://www.iamsecond.org/">www.iamsecond.org</a>. It might as well have been the hand writing on the wall and I knew it was a message for me from my Father.<br />
<br />
I shut the door and I texted my man of my shame and about the shirt. I got online at the website, because I needed to know what the front said. I found the shirt and it's words went right through me as the front read "I choose to serve.."<br />
<br />
Keep in mind that Shorty can't read. At all. He had no clue what that shirt said, unless he had asked someone. He had no idea he was a messenger of the Lord for me with that shirt. I was quickly and keenly made aware that I am also to choose to serve. <em>I am to serve because He tells me to and I am to serve when He tells me to and I am to serve who He tells me to.</em> For now I am to serve my husband and children, I am to serve my congregation as co-director of the nursery {which is not a position I had in mind to go after, He compelled me to take it}, and He also handed me the lead role in the Moms In Touch prayer group at school {which was frightening to me, really}, and we are to serve our little, old-ish Shorty... even if he shows up when I'd rather he not and even though he never says thank you.<br />
<br />
The Lord also impressed on my heart that day that as He uses us to bless Shorty, he also uses Shorty to be a blessing for us. My very busy, working-all-hours-to-build-a-business husband has not once this year had to take the time to mow the yard. The jasmine has been kept cut back, the sidewalk swept, the weeds kept out of the monkey grass and the whatever it is we have beside the cars, and the cars have been washed. I have come to find out that Shorty also has one other family that he works for regularly - an elderly couple. So his shirt was absolutely right, he is a servant. He told me recently, as he pointed heavenward, "I just do what He gives me to do." Yes. <br />
<br />
It's interesting that since I accepted the nursery position God has been bringing words about service to me. He knew full well {of course} the encouragement I'd need to obey Him in this way. I've actually been told that it's not at act of service since it comes with a {small} paycheck. I'd challenge anyone to try it and see if they agree it's not done to serve others. He brought Romans 12:11 to me just as I accepted the role, "Never be lazy, but work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically." He brought 1 Corinthians 13:12 to my heart in a different way, "Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am known" because <em>I am to trust that there is more going on than I can see, that what He gives me to do, however small it seems, makes a difference for Him.</em><br />
<br />
On Tuesday mornings we are studying James by Beth Moore and on last week's video she said that <em>we don't have to go out in search for something to do for Him, but that He will bring it to us</em> and she cited John 15:16, "You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-26716A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup> so that you might go and bear fruit<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-26716B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup>—fruit that will last..." and I have seen how true this is as He puts things on my heart and compells me to take on roles for Him and as He brings needs <em>right to my doorstep.</em> And so I will kept listening <em>to Him alone</em> to know how He desires that I serve Him, and I will do what Shorty does and "just do what He gives me to do," and I will remember the shirt that reminded me to serve...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxqRDBjtONbGepZzTAaBjJpxANT-AcTMcqLuWKg2w5HbXPaYEjnyjlq0d2mgSLJKaH_cNp3FhNheY-enPLIEbPJBnlbOUmIIOncjglkD0EuRWxkZQWomzIo_eDI3Hj4iPxCW4UZKf3_P3/s1600/untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxqRDBjtONbGepZzTAaBjJpxANT-AcTMcqLuWKg2w5HbXPaYEjnyjlq0d2mgSLJKaH_cNp3FhNheY-enPLIEbPJBnlbOUmIIOncjglkD0EuRWxkZQWomzIo_eDI3Hj4iPxCW4UZKf3_P3/s400/untitled.png" width="280" /></a></div>
<br />
the shirt I have not seen him wear again...<br />
<br />
Thank You, my Father for speaking to me through Your Word and through Your Spirit in me and with a t-shirt on a man who cannot read what it says. <em>You are amazing</em>.Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-67646365736733638802012-10-04T00:20:00.000-05:002012-10-04T00:20:26.544-05:00Dear me at sixteen.Dear me,<br />
<br />
You are so young, so tiny, so new still to the world, to this life. Oh, and the world? It will attempt, many times with great success, to beat you up and drag you down. Please, please find this scripture and cling to it with all that you are:<br />
<br />
Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is - His good, pleasing and perfect will. Romans 12:2<br />
<br />
Seriously. Get. This. In. Your. Soul - wanting to be like others, have what they have, do what they do- it's not only a waste of time, it's a sinful struggle you will deal with for many years. Sometimes others will not understand why you believe the way you do. Follow Him anyway and pray for them. He's worth whatever they may think of you. His paths are clear to those who truly care to follow them. Remember that.<br />
<br />
More than that even, write this Word on your heart because when you do what it says, you'll find peace and purpose and you'll know what you MUST fight for each day:<br />
<br />
Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength. Deuteronomy 6:5<br />
<br />
And for good measure, add in this one, because your understanding lacks so, so much:<br />
<br />
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. Proverbs 3:5<br />
<br />
Oh, please little me, LEAN NOT upon yourself. Learn now, soon, letting it sink into your very bones - there's so little you understand, so little you can control. This will be hard for you and you will learn it time and again the hard way. When that happens, remember to trust Him anyway.<br />
<br />
You are so sad that you are turning "sweet sixteen" having never been kissed. Hold tight, you'll soon have that first kiss. One day he'll give you a ring, ask you a question, you'll say yes. You'll marry that first kiss, enter into covenant with him, and he will be the father of your children. It will be a gift to you that you never kissed another - I promise.<br />
<br />
Go easy on your mom. One day you will learn just how wonderful and beautiful and ugly and terrifying and sin-revealing motherhood is. I can't adequately prepare you for it, it's just so hard and so worth it. Having your heart walk around in four different people, other than in yourself, is pretty tough. Your heart will break many, many times. But other times it will swell so full you'll think it may pop. You'll see. Ask God to teach you how to really love. But for now, go hug your mom and say thank you.
<br />
<br />
Give your dad a chance. I know he's a goofy goober. I know he likes hugging you too much and you like an extreme amount of personal space. But please, please - just hug him and hold on tight. Ask him to take you on dates, surprise him by showing up at his office for lunch. Let him give suggestions. Ask him questions. Trust in his love for you - it's bigger than you realize. Hear me on this - because one day you'll take care of him in his last, very sick days. You'll be taking turns with your brother all through his last night putting drops of morphine in his mouth, to usher him Home with love as your heart breaks. You'll watch him leave this life. It will hurt so bad you'll feel unable to breathe. You'll find out you needed him more than you knew, so much more. You will miss him so much it hurts. So, please, go give him a hug. You'll miss those hugs all too soon. Talk to him and listen and remember what he says. You'll miss his voice, too.<br />
<br />
Love the Word now and more with each day. One day you'll find it can put your broken pieces back together, time and again. Find Psalm 119:105 and see that it says, "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path." Twenty years from now this will be your favorite Psalm (after you hear Beth Moore teach from it!). The light of the word lights the next few steps - it's not a strobe light. He wants you to put your total trust in Him, so He won't light the path too far in the future. He wants to be the one you depend on.<br />
<br />
Learn to pray. Really pray. One day you will see a prayer answered so beautifully, so faithfully, so perfectly after three years of waiting, wondering. Before your eyes, God will move a spiritual mountain and you will cry tears of joy and thankfulness. So, go hug your brother, because your prayers for him will matter one day. Let God show Himself faithful as He answers your prayers. Then be grateful, whatever the answer and however long the wait. The Lord is always right and He is always on time.<br />
<br />
Be full of joy and be full of gratitude in all things. Hard times will come and there will be joy overflowing and sorrow so large it will feel overwhelming. Keep trusting Him, keep following Him. He makes paths straight, He allows you to enter the Most Holy Place, He loves you more than you know (and more than you'll know in twenty years still). But the Lord Who redeemed you can be fully trusted to complete His good work in you. And one sweet day, He'll come for you to take you Home. Keep your eyes on Him and love Him back through obedience, gratitude, praise and living for Him and not for the world. His grace is amazing and was purchased at a high price by your biggest Brother and the way you live reveals your true love for Him and gives Him glory. Love Him well then with your life. He is so worth it.<br />
<br />
All is grace (one day you'll believe that it is. ALL is grace.),
<br />
<br />
Me at just under thirty-six
<br />
<br />
<br />
*This dear me letter was inspired by Emily at www.<a href="http://http//www.chattingatthesky.com/2012/09/14/dear-me-a-letter-to-your-teenage-self-a-link-up/">chattingatthesky</a>.com as part of the release of her new book Graceful aimed at teenaged girls. Visit the link for other dear me letters and to learn more about the book. Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-77359353927064388842012-08-01T07:09:00.000-05:002012-08-01T07:09:58.060-05:00once again...I have welcomed a friend into the horrible, awful Cancer is Terrible and My Parent Died Because of It club. Not a club anyone is clammoring to join, but a growing group nonetheless. I have a heavy heart for my friend Jon and his family in the passing of Mr. Bud, who I likely never spoke with, but have been blessed by watching how he handled his illness coupled with his faith in our good and gracious Father. <br />
<br />
Each time I see a friend go through this, I am taken back to those days over six years ago. The days of grieving for the just-gone. Those days when you wake up, and you think "ok, it's ok...oh, wait..." because it takes time for it to sink in, really sink in. And then one day you wake up and it's just there, it doesn't hit you again like a ton of bricks. It's just always there, and that is both a good and a hard day.<br />
<br />
I recently watched the movie Rabbit Hole, about a couple bereaving the death of their son. I don't recommend that you watch this movie, as the language in it is a bit much, however I keep coming back to this one part that really resonates with me. Becca's brother had died earlier, and she's asking her mother about grief:<br />
<span class="line"><br />
<span class="bold quote_actor">Becca: </span><span class="line">Does it ever go away? </span><br />
<span class="bold quote_actor">Nat: </span><span class="line">No, I don't think it does. Not for me, it hasn't, and that's goin' on eleven years. It changes, though. </span><br />
<span class="bold quote_actor">Becca: </span><span class="line">How?</span><br />
<span class="bold quote_actor">Nat: </span><span class="line">I don't know... the weight of it, I guess. At some point, it becomes bearable. It turns into something that you can crawl out from under and... carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you... you even forget it, for a while. But then you reach in for whatever reason and - there it is. Oh right, that. Which could be awful - But not all the time. It's kinda... not that you like it exactly, but it's what you have instead of your son, so you don't wanna let go of it either. So you carry it around. And it doesn't go away, which is...</span><br />
<span class="bold quote_actor">Becca: </span><span class="line">What.</span><br />
<span class="bold quote_actor">Nat: </span><span class="line">Fine... actually.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="line">So, I say to Jon and his family, it does turn bearable at some point, and getting to that point looks different for each person. But there is that place where you gladly hold on to your missing them, because it's what you have left of them. I never want to stop missing my dad, as painful as it {still} can be at times, it's like a golden thread that keeps him here with me, in the smallest possible way. And with it is the happy hope I have of being with him again One Day. Oh, Happy Day!</span><br />
<br />
<span class="line">As for your sweet dad, you know he is Home - the very place he was made for:</span><br />
<br />
<span class="line">“If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.” <br />― <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1069006.C_S_Lewis">C.S. Lewis</a></span><br />
<br />
<span class="line">"I was made for more than this world could offer me. My heart to hold true mystery. My voice was made to fall on holy ears. My life to collide with majesty... I was made me for rest, in a world that’s striving. To lie down in the fields of green. To set my feet upon this holy ground. To build my life on the things unseen." from Christy Nockles "Into the Glorious"</span><br />
<br />
<span class="line">Things unseen - though our dads are not "things," I think we can take great comfort that they are now among those things unseen, and add to that upon which we now continue to build our lives. You said in a twitter post that your dad was your biggest fan. I've said the same thing about my dad many times... now as a way to honor them, we can each live our lives in ways that will make them prouder still. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="line">The Lord's grace is in this place, too. And never forget that One Day "all sad things will come untrue." Tim Keller</span></span>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-82562284437925377792012-05-09T23:15:00.000-05:002012-05-09T23:15:07.016-05:00to momI remember you there. Just that - simply that you were always there. And I remember just wanting to be with you. And now that I have two littles out of four that just <i>always</i> want to be with me {like how I can't even use the restroom in solitude}, I can see it all so differently...<br />
<br />
And so, I want to thank you for so much. Not only for all that you've done, but for who you've been for us. I know now that mothering is hard and endless and usually thankless work. It's not something you can leave at your desk, it will not wait for tomorrow. Even after the kids are in bed, a mother's mind keeps turning. At times her heart keeps aching. Tears fall. The little people that you work so hard to bring forth, to raise up, to nurture, teach and love - their needs can be too much, their hurts become your very own, they can all at once fill you with more love and more fear than you've ever known.<br />
<br />
And what is there, then, for a mother to do? As <a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/05/the-habit-of-a-mother-who-changes-the-world/">Ann wrote in her post</a>, "A mother cups her brood not with leftovers - but with her own sacrifice." A mother loves wide, hard, deep, offering so much of herself along the way. And she struggles with the did I give enoughs and the did I do enoughs and the am I enoughs? And at the end of a hard day, she faces knowing that she will get up and do it all again tomorrow. And all along, there is much joy and much hard, and the combination of it all and the knowing how to handle it all is... well, it's just hard.<br />
<br />
But you showed me what it looks like to give of yourself until almost nothing is left. And the next day you would get back up and do it all again for us. Some days it was easier than others, and some days were happier than others, but each day you did it just the same. The endless work, the encouragement, the care, the daily plodding along - you were always there. You still are. You still give more of yourself than you likely want to at times, and now it's not to two (or three including Dad), but to eleven all counted - children and children-in-law and grandchildren. You give to us of yourself, of your heart and all for joy. Again and again.<br />
<br />
How do I thank you?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/05/the-habit-of-a-mother-who-changes-the-world/">Ann shared</a> that "mother ducks pick feathers from their chests to line their nests." From there, close to the heart? "She lines the nest with bits of herself - the best of herself." Do you know this describes you? Our childhood home, though not perfect, was made with bits of you. It was made with the best of you. I only hope one day my little ones, when they are no longer little, will feel I did the same for them.<br />
<br />
Thank you for giving yourself for us. And here's a really amazing thing... because of your gift to me, the giving of yourself, a mother and child in need in Haiti will be blessed. By giving of yourself, to your own {then and now}, you are also giving to someone far away who you've never met.<br />
<br />
Isn't it amazing how love can grow wings and fly?...<br />
<br />
This post is part of The 1000 Moms Project:<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/05/what-every-mother-has-to-know-before-mothers-day/what-every-mother-has-to-know-before-mothers-day" target="_blank"><div class="p3-img-protect p3-img-protect-aligncenter no-orig-alignclass" style="width: 578px;">
<img class="p3-overlay" src="http://www.aholyexperience.com/wp-content/themes/prophoto3/images/blank.gif" style="height: 90px; width: 578px;" /><img alt="1000 Moms Project" class="p3-downsized" height="90" src="http://www.aholyexperience.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/1000Moms_banner4.png" width="578" /></div>
</a></center>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-86138643496234383242012-04-21T22:35:00.000-05:002012-04-21T22:39:34.485-05:00For where two or three gather<span class="woj"> in my name, there am I with them.” Matthew 18:20</span><br />
<span class="woj"><br /></span><br />
<span class="woj">We are supposed to be women of joy this weekend, loving on each other and worshiping Him together at <a href="http://womenofjoy.org/sevierville">Women of Joy</a> in Sevierville, Tennessee. Five of us, high school friends, moms to fifteen among us all, reaching out to each other again through facebook, renewing friendships. The hotel booked, the fees all paid. Things changed, our plans canceled. One still came up from south Florida, one down from north Alabama, and me here, already in the right place, believing what He said about where two or three gather... to gather around our friend and sister, Tamara, whose precious momma is very soon going Home. </span><br />
<span class="woj"><br /></span><br />
<span class="woj">If I remember right, Mrs. Pat was diagnosed with cancer originally at the same time my dad was, November of 2005. As we celebrated Dad's life and healing at Home, we soon celebrated Mrs. Pat's healing here, as she enjoyed some cancer-free time. She has fought the good fight, including a long fight against cancer again, she has almost finished the race. Soon she will see Him face to face, she will beat cancer {once and for all}, receiving ultimate healing and all that He has promised. </span><br />
<span class="woj"><br /></span><br />
<span class="woj">Last night, on the back porch of Tamara's parents' house, the four of us laughed a little, cried a little, prayed a lot: </span><br />
<br />
<span class="woj">"</span>Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.<sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-28877"></sup> For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.<sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-28878"></sup> So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:16-18<br />
<br />
"For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a
building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands... therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. For we live by faith, not by sight.<sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-28886"></sup> We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord." 2 Corinthians 5:1, 6-8<br />
<br />
We prayed these scriptures, asking for mercy, for peace, for new mercies every day and the strength to receive them, for ministering angels, for Jesus to do what He said He'd do:<span class="versetext" id="joh14-2" style="display: inline;"><span class="WordsOfChrist"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="versetext" id="joh14-2" style="display: inline;"><span class="WordsOfChrist">"In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2066897589824108962" name="1"></a> to prepare a place for you.</span> </span><span class="versetext" id="joh14-3" style="display: inline;"><span class="versenum"></span>
<span class="WordsOfChrist">And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2066897589824108962" name="2"></a> and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am." John 14:2-3 </span></span><br />
<span class="versetext" id="joh14-3" style="display: inline;"><span class="WordsOfChrist"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="versetext" id="joh14-3" style="display: inline;"><span class="WordsOfChrist">See, I take that literally. He is preparing a place. He will come back and take her to be with Him. He will. So we wait, we pray, we love from here. </span></span><br />
<span class="versetext" id="joh14-3" style="display: inline;"><span class="WordsOfChrist"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="versetext" id="joh14-3" style="display: inline;"><span class="WordsOfChrist">We are not particularly women of Joy this weekend like we had planned, though I fully believe we will be women of joy again. I expect it. I know it will happen, because I believe Him Who says:</span></span><br />
<span class="versetext" id="joh14-3" style="display: inline;"><span class="WordsOfChrist"><br /></span></span><br />
“Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy. Those who go out
weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying
sheaves with them.” Psalm 126:5-6<br />
<br />
My friends, this I believe, and if any of you can't believe it just now, I'll believe it for you... we WILL return with songs of joy. We will. It's a promise. And our Father keeps His promises. Some He grants us here on earth, while others He grants us at Home. We will be women of joy again, and He will receive the glory.<br />
<br />
So, to our enemy, who likely thinks he's had victory in this situation, I say two things:<br />
<br />
"When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the
mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true:
“Death has been swallowed up in victory.”" 1 Corinthians 15:54<br />
<br />
and "Do not gloat over me, my enemy! Though I have fallen, I will rise. Though I sit in darkness, the LORD will be my light."<br />
<br />
The Lord will be our Light. Love always wins.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/btHtiRfhP-8" width="420"></iframe>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-44875211405274973962012-03-23T08:29:00.004-05:002012-03-23T08:29:51.969-05:00So I stood there asking him,trying to hold back the tears, to steady the voice, just when he thought I'd be able to approach March 23rd without so much sadness. It's now been six years of missing him every day, so when can this particular day become more normal? My man is so smart, he asked shouldn't it make me sad? Why was I putting unrealistic constraints on my grief? I suppose it was my way of trying to handle it on my own, which maybe one day I'll remember I can't do anything on my own.<br />
<br />
As I was reading a favorite blog last night, God showed me what I needed to do with these words:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
When we practice giving thanks, we practice the presence of God, stay present to His presence, and it is always a practice of the eyes. We don't have to change <i>what </i>we see. Only the <i>way</i> we see it.<br />
<br />
Ann Voskamp from <u>One Thousand Gifts</u></blockquote>
And so I found my 1000+ gifts journal. The one I haven't written in since last July. A stalled listing of His gifts at no. 105. But there are so, so many more and I want to count again, to focus the eyes, the heart. I felt a nudge to count gifts last night regarding Dad. And though there is still an extra heaviness of heart today, six years later, this counting makes me smile.<br />
<br />
(106) I can still remember the sound of his voice.<br />
(107) I can still picture his big cheeked grin.<br />
(108) Imagining one of his swallow-me-up-in-big-arms hugs.<br />
(109) Still having his handwriting tucked away here and there.<br />
(110) How he believed in me.<br />
(111) Those funny sayings of his and {see no. 106}, how I can still hear him say them. "Whatcha waitin' on? Sundown and payday?"<br />
(112) He loved to sing.<br />
(113) He loved being Poppa.<br />
(114) A hard though precious memory: crying with him, sharing one big chair, the night before we'd receive a sure diagnosis.<br />
(115) Saying what needed to be said to each other, the time to say it.<br />
(116) The privilege of helping to care for him in those days.<br />
(117) The amazing peace that came over him when he chose to go home so he could go Home.<br />
(118) How once he checked with me before taking medicine that our {amazing} nurse handed him. I was in charge of his meds when we got him home, apparently even when the nurse was in the house.<br />
(119) How the Father has drawn me closer and closer in the absence of my dad.<br />
(120) For 29 years he was mine.<br />
<br />
And I could go on and on, but I need to get ready to meet with my mom. Share some of this day together. Take new flowers to the cemetery. Go watch Miles give his first presentation about his favorite trip. For six years, the sun has still risen and set. The world has still turned. And I was so sure it would stop when dad left. But when the eyes learn to change the <i>way</i> they see things, there have been tremendous blessings come from this great sadness. He truly brings beauty from ashes, turns mourning into dancing, sorrow into joy.<br />
<br />
And so, I will go about this March 23, allowing myself to feel whatever I feel. Extra sadness, a heavier heart with smiles because of the gifts I can count. How could I <i>not</i> miss him, really? And that's ok.<br />
<br />
<span class="text Ps-34-18" id="en-NLT-14383">"The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> is close to the brokenhearted;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-34-18">he rescues those whose spirits are crushed." Psalm 34:18 NLT</span></span>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-37540960859462032112011-09-20T09:30:00.000-05:002011-09-20T09:30:02.729-05:00how can it be?<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6138758393/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_0067 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_0067" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6064/6138758393_c5b1f668bf_z.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
September 12, 2010 </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6161448662/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla13months-1 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla13months-1" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6192/6161448662_ecc1592458_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6160913027/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla13months-4 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla13months-4" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6164/6160913027_99d7443d19_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6160912595/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla13months-2 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla13months-2" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6172/6160912595_bb38fb6ff1_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
September 14, 2011<br />
<br />
"...no little girl can stop her world to wait for me..." {Natalie Merchant}
</div>
Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-10466151313906704402011-09-11T23:28:00.000-05:002011-09-11T23:28:20.202-05:00ten years later...<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6139308614/" title="milesWTC-2 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milesWTC-2" height="614" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6152/6139308614_87e8d138ab_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>
as seen by six-year-old Miles during our 9-11 remembrance service at church. "Sorry about the buildings."</div>
Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-71745771714322973772011-09-03T07:12:00.000-05:002011-09-03T22:23:09.833-05:00Milla Jean is one!<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6068512458/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="IMG_8913 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_8913" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6181/6068512458_9a9a7cde35_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>
So my baby girl did it - she turned one! Without my permission, actually, but she went right ahead and did it anyway. How does this keep happening to me? My babies growing up? When thinking of Milla's party, the decisions went like this:<br />
<ul>
<li>{1} Make a peg-doll-Milla cake topper.</li>
<li>{2} MUST make a ruffle cake.</li>
<li>{3} Pink, pink, pink!</li>
</ul>
Am I ever thankful for the internet where all of my inspiration and how-to instructions come from. I was pretty intimidated by the ruffle icing, but just had to give it a shot, and you know what? It was so easy {and fun!}. If you are curious, find the peg doll tutorial <a href="http://goingsewcrazy.typepad.com/my_weblog/2009/02/clothespin-doll-tutorial.html">here</a> and a ruffle icing how-to video <a href="http://www.mysweetandsaucy.com/2010/09/ruffle-cake-tutorial-video/">here</a>.<br />
<br />
And a shout out to super <a href="http://www.amephotography.net">Anita</a>, who took these lovely photos of the cake and decorations. No photoshopping here, folks, just talent. {<i>I</i> did get a bit photoshop happy down there on the birthday girl pictures, but I just have so much fun with actions.} But that Anita, she just worked magic with these up here all by herself.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6068516238/" title="IMG_8919 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_8919" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6061/6068516238_1c9b3d80e6_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
Of course I have to thank my mom for lots of help {lots!}... she made raspberry oatmeal bars, arranged flowers, and helped clean. {Thanks, Mom!}<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6067972957/" title="IMG_8922 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_8922" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6203/6067972957_138db92cc2_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6067974121/" title="IMG_8923 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_8923" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6071/6067974121_b7846c6037_z.jpg" width="427" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6068508864/" title="IMG_8915 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_8915" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6068/6068508864_9602661c6f_z.jpg" width="427" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6067838255/" title="millais1-16 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="millais1-16" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6203/6067838255_73352c3d50_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
And here is the precious birthday Milla Jean! She really wanted to grab hold of the candle or the flame or something, so aside from a little danger, she enjoyed us singing happy birthday. Well, she wasn't bothered by the actual danger, but by how I wouldn't let her get her little hands on that candle. We actually sang twice because her big bro Miles accidentally blew out her candle with the party blower thing. {What are those called?}<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6068380662/" title="millais1-13 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="millais1-13" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6194/6068380662_bba80eeaae_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6068381556/" title="millais1-14 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="millais1-14" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6183/6068381556_5ea124cc41_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6068377970/" title="millais1-10 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="millais1-10" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6077/6068377970_5d0a89b771_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
She needed a little help trying the actual cake and not just the icing. Some people like the icing. Some people like the cake. I like both, and I think she did, too!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6067828483/" title="millais1-7 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="millais1-7" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6185/6067828483_547b12816a_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6067826529/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="millais1-6 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="millais1-6" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6068/6067826529_73a5030bd7_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The whole family at our {last} first birthday party. This picture will be hanging on my wall soon.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6068369848/" title="millais1-5 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="millais1-5" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6202/6068369848_4b6ec22715_z.jpg" width="640" /></a>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6107715295/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="millais1-19 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="millais1-19" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6075/6107715295_3cc7985868_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6108262790/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="millais1-18 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="millais1-18" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6081/6108262790_3398f8899b_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6108262974/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="millais1-20 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="millais1-20" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6205/6108262974_84bef5f911_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div>
Happy birthday to my sweet Jeannie-girl! It's been a precious, too-fast, wonderful year of loving you, though I'm sure I've loved you forever. I'm so happy you've been given to us.
Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-13863164746267881692011-08-30T22:12:00.004-05:002011-08-30T22:12:00.778-05:00school boys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6067817073/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="cornerstone2011-boysday1-2BW by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="cornerstone2011-boysday1-2BW" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6075/6067817073_9df5fd1986_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6067815611/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="cornerstone2011-milesday1 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="cornerstone2011-milesday1" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6065/6067815611_4e988304cb_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6067816467/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="conrnerstone2011-day1family by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="conrnerstone2011-day1family" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6191/6067816467_2b7f67dfca_z.jpg" width="479" /></a></div><br />
The transition from homeschool {for Elijah and me} and preschool {for Miles} has gone pretty well so far. We've now got 12 school days under our belts, and with the exception of Elijah forgetting to copy down a few homework assignments and me forgetting his focus medicine once, it's been great. Miles may not admit it, but he's happy to go to school each day. And Elijah is really happy. I'm still struggling ever so slightly with handing him over, it's a control thing... but I can already see how much he needs to own his days, his work, a bit more than he could when I was momma-teacher. <br />
<br />
I was a nervous wreck {on the inside!} that first morning. During chapel, which started the day, Elijah leaned over and patted me on the back. He had no problem heading to his new classroom, meeting his new teacher. I had a hard time leaving him, and Miles too, but they did great. God sent comfort and confirmation to me through the words of the wonderful principal, Mrs. Stewart, during chapel. She reminded us all that it is God Who ordains our days, that He intended for our children to be at this place at this time. She gave a charge to the teachers to teach the children well, to help the children from being tossed about by the wind or waves of deceiving doctrine. She gave a charge to the students to work as unto the Lord. Heaven helped me {as it always does!}, to leave with a fresh knowing that our decision was made in Him. He knows how much I need reminding. {Thank you, Lord.}<br />
<br />
So now we rise early, we learn in a different place, a different way, we wait and we anticipate all of the good that is to come in this new season...<br />
<br />
Your own ears will hear him.<br />
Right behind you a voice will say,<br />
“This is the way you should go,”<br />
whether to the right or to the left.<br />
Isaiah 30:21Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-63374872978154857252011-08-22T23:07:00.000-05:002011-08-22T23:07:15.406-05:00our trip in pictures {and a few words}<div style="text-align: center;">We were blessed, indeed,</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6016907402/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="florida2011-21 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="florida2011-21" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6128/6016907402_cb261e7554_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">with the opportunity to take</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6016355423/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="florida2011-19 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="florida2011-19" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6013/6016355423_30d37f0522_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">a wonderful vacation in Florida.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6016355339/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="florida2011-18 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="florida2011-18" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6021/6016355339_c7b13bfe3c_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">We are so thankful for God's provision </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6016353673/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="florida2011-5 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="florida2011-5" height="476" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6018/6016353673_974ebf2e10_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">of this time through friends.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6016905176/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="florida2011-3 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="florida2011-3" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6010/6016905176_0e1e992510_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">We played in the sand</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6016353303/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="florida2011-2 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="florida2011-2" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6028/6016353303_0f28deae02_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">and in the sea.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6016353575/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="florida2011-4 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="florida2011-4" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6005/6016353575_d7e18b75e4_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">We had one {very} hot day, {very} fun day </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6016906804/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="florida2011-16 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="florida2011-16" height="489" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6012/6016906804_1d78052f30_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">riding, seeing, surprising! {We told the kids about our day at the Magic Kingdom on the ride there.}</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6016906728/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="florida2011-15 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="florida2011-15" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6142/6016906728_e3d87be541_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">And this baby loved the waves on her toes.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6016353883/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="florida2011-7 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="florida2011-7" height="500" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6134/6016353883_57b5400cab_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Thankful.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">Now, to attempt to catch up a little on sharing the counted gifts. Have still been counting, but have gotten behind on sharing them here, which will explain the outdated seeming parts:</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li> {73} An old man asks Jonathan for a few dollars for something to eat, but we can only find one dollar between us. He makes a sandwich for the man, filling a bag with a few things. Miles comes to the kitchen with two dollars and some change. All the money he had, he gave away.</li>
<li>{74} Ella missing Miles as he attends a neighborhood VBS she's not old enough for. "He has VBS the next day <i>adain</i>?"</li>
<li>{74} Miles trying to encourage Ella just before her last swim lesson - she was crying and anxious and had asked for piggy tails. "Oh, you look so pretty!" was part of the pep talk.</li>
<li>{75} Miles telling me that Matthew and Luke are in the middle of the bible, then he says "some stories are still being written." {On his 6th birthday-eve}</li>
<li>{76}Rain over a thirsty, dry area.</li>
<li>{77} A cold pack wrapped around a sprained ankle, my man telling me to rest.</li>
<li>{78} Elijah and Ella sitting close, video on my iPhone, his head on her shoulder.</li>
<li>{79} Miles and his dad working on a hot wheel track together {birthday gift!} together.</li>
<li>{80} A sleeping Milla in my lap, weighty, warm.</li>
<li>{81} Beautiful, powerful heat lightning.</li>
<li>{82} Tall, puffy, cotton-ball clouds. Bright white on blue skies.</li>
<li>{83} Being in the Pike Road 4th of July Parade with Elijah, Miles, Ella, Kell and Ian {my nephews}. Fun!</li>
<li>{84} Spurgeon's words: "We have been in many trials, but we have never yet been cast where we could not find in our God all that we needed." See Isaiah 26:4</li>
<li>{85} A date with Milesy.</li>
<li>{86} Falling in love with him all over again!</li>
</ul>To be continued. Not caught up, but still counting...<br />
<br />
See what others thank Him for at Ann's</div><a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i242.photobucket.com/albums/ff162/annvoskamp/multitudesonmondaysbutton2-1.jpg" /></a>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-81101709763018201642011-08-06T23:51:00.000-05:002011-08-06T23:51:27.320-05:00where we've been...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/6016356501/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="florida2011-26 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="florida2011-26" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6005/6016356501_d4dca52ee4_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
a few Floridian places. More to come...Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-73044152203449731452011-07-29T09:38:00.001-05:002011-07-29T09:38:00.236-05:00flashback fridaySoon, all too soon, it will happen. My baby will turn one. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5986320337/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="usat31weeks by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="usat31weeks" height="407" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6021/5986320337_da724a1fc8_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">31 weeks</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5986320211/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="us-again36weeks by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="us-again36weeks" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6146/5986320211_0c271cfc4a_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">36 weeks</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">She had quite the presence, even before she lived a single day. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Isn't it amazing, how I've loved her forever?</div>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-4183787814412056742011-07-20T23:54:00.001-05:002011-07-20T23:55:27.104-05:00milla jean at 11 months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5959612227/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla11mos-6 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla11mos-6" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6028/5959612227_748fe943fe_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Pssst... it's me, Milla Jean.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5959612721/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla11mos-7 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla11mos-7" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6028/5959612721_f8057ecf42_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">I'm so excited</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5959611737/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla11mos-5 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla11mos-5" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6010/5959611737_7228335d62_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">while momma is feeling sentimental</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5960171168/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla11mos-4 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla11mos-4" height="640" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6017/5960171168_e73328def6_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">because I'm 11 months old!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5959616809/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="millajean by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="millajean" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6135/5959616809_2305f2fc06_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Notice the path of destruction behind me. I did that myself.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5959616473/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="millafirstcheezit by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="millafirstcheezit" height="428" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6022/5959616473_44438b53cd_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">I plundered this cheez-it from the floor. Yes, I did and I rather enjoyed it.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5959613745/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla11mos-10 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla11mos-10" height="448" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6130/5959613745_0ea207a9cb_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Ella took a picture of momma and me.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5960173114/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla11mos-8 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla11mos-8" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6016/5960173114_d254294aa1_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">And another. Excuse me while I eat this necklace. What? Don't worry, I put <i>everything</i> in my mouth. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5960175012/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla11mos-13 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla11mos-13" height="427" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6147/5960175012_540a5f1728_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">All I know is that I am just happy to be here. If I could only get my hands on this birthday cake momma keeps telling me about...</div>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-17576427033817736262011-07-15T22:40:00.000-05:002011-07-15T22:40:56.196-05:005 minute Friday: lossI've been MIA around here lately. The days of summer have been busy, busy. One month from today my boys will start a new school, and there is much to be done by then, especially preparing myself for their going. But when I saw that Gypsy Mama's 5 minute Friday today is on loss, I had to take a few minutes to write. The typical rule is 5 minutes, but today she gave permission for more time as needed. We'll see, here goes<br />
<br />
I relate well to CS Lewis' quote, "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear." I had no idea the absolute fear that would take hold of me after my dad died. I was afraid of so much, too much, but in particular I was afraid of living life without my dad.<br />
<br />
I didn't know what deep loss felt like until he was gone. And how it truly would feel like I actually lost him, almost like he was misplaced, or kidnapped. Because it takes a while to really accept, really know that someone is gone. It takes a while before you stop thinking about calling them on the phone, before you can delete their email address from your list of contacts, or their number from your cell phone. It's like holding on to the last little bits of them will keep them real to you. We only recently changed my mom's voice mail from his voice. <br />
<br />
One minute he was there, and a few minutes later he was gone. Just like that. Quiet, peaceful, here and then gone. I had prayed for his release, relief, ultimate healing. But then wondered why he was gone? Where had he gone? And would for long months wonder these things. Now, I know where really, There, with Him, Home... but I wanted to know distance, travel time, route. Proximity to me. I struggled so hard. Felt his absence so deep, the losing him. But it was my loss, and now I can write with a smile across my face, that my loss was his gain. The loss still stings, and the missing continues and will, but his gain is real and true. And I have found that knowing this, feeling this as deep as my grief, the hope of Where he is, of Who he is with, the promise of being with him and Him myself One day, it carries me.<br />
<br />
All loss will One day become nothing but gain. Sorrow will become joy. Mourning will turn to dancing. Grasping to this hope begins to heal the deep loss...<br />
<br />
{15 minutes give or take a little}<br />
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/_lCeOMfY0_fQ/TWly2m-jN_I/AAAAAAAAFEY/k8HJ__cvkws/s200/5%20minute%20friday.jpg" /><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="huge"></span>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-35656021296601962492011-06-24T22:17:00.000-05:002011-06-24T22:17:31.906-05:00wonderHere goes another five minute friday: the topic is <i>wonder</i>. <br />
<br />
GO.I wonder how it is that I deserve the gift of you. How it is that you were knit together in my womb. How it is that every day was recorded before one of them came to be.<br />
<br />
I wonder how it is He decided to make your ears flop over sweetly, to make you look so like your little big brother, yet be so perfectly dainty.<br />
<br />
I wonder how it has already been more than 10 months of you, my sweet little baby? How has it passed so quickly? Weren't you just inside, stretching me further than I thought possible? How is it that you now stretch the heart further than I imagined could be - making me a momma with enough heart for four.<br />
<br />
And I wonder, how is it that we ever lived without you, Milla Jean?<br />
STOP.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5859133696/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla10months-2 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla10months-2" height="427" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3154/5859133696_8245e17f27_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5858579611/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="milla10months-4 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla10months-4" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5225/5858579611_1b4a85b421_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">those feet get me every. time. we love how you hold onto us with them.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5868469306/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="mosaica51a2cd5f683a7ea61117159899c4a788437939f by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="mosaica51a2cd5f683a7ea61117159899c4a788437939f" height="216" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3201/5868469306_e7114f1b07_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5868477210/" title="photo(34) by kctorode, on Flickr"><br />
</a><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5858577779/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="milla10months-9 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla10months-9" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5080/5858577779_262b3ff70d_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">hey ladybug, whatcha looking at?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5858576519/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="milla10months-12 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla10months-12" height="427" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5118/5858576519_4c8286d64a_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">oh, I see. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5868488192/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="mosaicb531be6c683e120321638299c5e4aa8e63acdbef by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="mosaicb531be6c683e120321638299c5e4aa8e63acdbef" height="310" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3134/5868488192_b6152292a7_z.jpg" width="615" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sharing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jeannie-girl,<br />
<br />
this has been a big time for you! You are officially on the move. You can get to the far reaches of the house all by yourself. Although this is an exciting development {since six weeks ago I was worried you'd <i>never</i> crawl!}, it's also troubling due to my {less than} desirable house-keeping skills. So far we make it work by shutting you out of certain rooms, and constantly looking for those tiny choking hazards, which reminds me of having to do a modified heimlech on you recently. Not. Fun.<br />
<br />
You are working on cutting four top teeth. Seriously? Must you cut four all at once and all too soon look like a grown woman? Well, not really a <i>grown</i> woman, but still, older than I'm ready for in such a short time. Slow up on the teeth sprouting a bit, ok?<br />
<br />
Since you are now independently mobile, you have no time or desire for the exersaucer or the walker. And wow, do you display that temper if we try. Only occasionally do you humor us briefly on this matter. That's ok, places to go and things to do, right?<br />
<br />
We love you, you sweet and spicy little thing. Forever and ever.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5859131876/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="milla10months-7 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla10months-7" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5272/5859131876_b281078ae6_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">big yawn. cutting four teeth and crawling all over creation will make one tired I suppose.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<center><a href="http://thegypsymama.com/category/five-minute-friday/"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/_lCeOMfY0_fQ/TWly2m-jN_I/AAAAAAAAFEY/k8HJ__cvkws/s200/5%20minute%20friday.jpg"/></a></center>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-51597837980809955922011-06-22T16:33:00.001-05:002011-06-22T16:46:35.393-05:00Miles is 6!and we enjoyed a small gathering of friends at the pool after VBS yesterday. He wanted an Auburn cake, so I delivered one I was fairly proud of, but butter cream icing does not prefer super hot weather, and fell in on itself. No one seemed to mind, and it tasted pretty good, so I'll eventually get over the sad condition of said cake. I wanted a picture of it cut, with an orange layer and a blue layer, but the children were on that cake like stink on a skunk, no time for pictures. In a matter of minutes it was cut up and handed out. Oh, well... I'm sure it won't be the last Auburn cake I make for my little tiger.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5859124900/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milesis6-1 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milesis6-1" height="427" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5222/5859124900_46b3888a5e_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5858572035/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milesis6-2 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milesis6-2" height="427" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5263/5858572035_49cb83260f_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5858573079/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milesis6-3 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milesis6-3" height="427" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5111/5858573079_51b933a2dc_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5859128764/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milesis6-4 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milesis6-4" height="427" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5312/5859128764_f81ae8ca7c_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
How is it that the days can be so long, the years so short? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5860976549/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="mileswasthere copy by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="mileswasthere copy" height="266" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5305/5860976549_9a1a8c5b56.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Happy 6th birthday to my Milesy, who used to be very tiny, but is now on his way to kindergarten. How many times will my heart break over this boy? I think I'll go snag a hug from him, that helps every time...Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-10974260731749594642011-06-19T23:52:00.000-05:002011-06-19T23:52:58.915-05:00for love of youHappy Father's Day to our very favorite man! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5851800260/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="mosaic54ef79084aef9edb327474aa9724553a1753ace8 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="mosaic54ef79084aef9edb327474aa9724553a1753ace8" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5038/5851800260_f8d807fa11_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">What Is A Dad?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">A dad is someone who</div><div style="text-align: center;">wants to catch you before you fall</div><div style="text-align: center;">but instead picks you up,</div><div style="text-align: center;">brushes you off,</div><div style="text-align: center;">and lets you try again.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">A dad is someone who</div><div style="text-align: center;">wants to keep you from making mistakes</div><div style="text-align: center;">but instead lets you find your own way,</div><div style="text-align: center;">even though his heart breaks in silence</div><div style="text-align: center;">when you get hurt.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">A dad is someone who</div><div style="text-align: center;">holds you when you cry,</div><div style="text-align: center;">scolds you when you break the rules,</div><div style="text-align: center;">shines with pride when you succeed,</div><div style="text-align: center;">and has faith in you even when you fail...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">- Unknown</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Thank you for loving us, taking care of us. We are pretty taken with you.</div>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-55048710578921159882011-06-17T22:57:00.001-05:002011-06-17T23:05:36.196-05:00Home This is my first attempt at Five Minute Friday. The rules? Write about the given topic for five minutes, only five minutes, without worrying about errors, without editing. What you write in that five minutes is what you post. A little intimidating, to be sure. Here it goes though, as I just had to give today's topic a go:<br />
<br />
Home<br />
<br />
Home is the Place that I am going to. I don't belong here. I am a foreigner, a stranger, a visitor. I was made for something more, somewhere else. Home.<br />
<br />
It feels like Home there, although I've never been. The nagging feeling that something is missing, that something just isn't right? Well, it's because the truth is just that: something isn't right. I won't be made whole until I'm Home. That's when His good work will be completed.<br />
<br />
To see Him face to face. I have no words, just wonderings, anticipation. To be in His presence, in the presence of Love.<br />
<br />
To see my dad again. To hug him again. To {hopefully} be greeted by my father and my Father. I can hardly wait on Home.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://thegypsymama.com/category/five-minute-friday/"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/_lCeOMfY0_fQ/TWly2m-jN_I/AAAAAAAAFEY/k8HJ__cvkws/s200/5%20minute%20friday.jpg" /></a></center>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-19559396913234552262011-06-14T00:17:00.000-05:002011-06-14T00:17:10.039-05:00Counting gifts: anniversary editionI met him when we were mere children. Twelve years old. My big brother introduced us, said Jonathan could have me if he wanted to. He would later take him up on that offer, but of course we didn't know that yet. I wonder, did God smile at that?<br />
<br />
Then, over years we became friends. He picked on me. I laughed. Then, at the age of almost 16, knowing he was too sweet to say no, and my friend and I tricked him. He had no idea what was coming, but soon agreed to be my date for homecoming. He was so easy to talk to, strange for two shy kids. <br />
<br />
Then one day, a little more than four years later, he took me on a day trip to the beach. He asked me {several times} to look at a sketch he had done. When I finally looked, it was a drawing of a ring, the one he was holding, he asked me to marry him. I said yes, and married him 13 years ago today.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5831158157/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="photo(33) by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="photo(33)" height="640" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3356/5831158157_0ae7e39c6a_z.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<br />
He reminded me this morning of something Jim Brinkerhoff {our campus minister at Auburn }said during our premarital class. He said that it takes 25 years for a married couple to be "completely gelled" together. Then I remembered other things. He showed us a graph of marital satisfaction and asked what we thought caused a steep drop-off. It was having children. He spoke of marriage like a pair of hedge clippers. The husband and wife working together, and when they work well together, anything that comes in between them gets lopped off. He also said many times that marriage is hard work, but that we must remember <i>the best is yet to come</i>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5831707178/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="photo(31) by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="photo(31)" height="640" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3163/5831707178_8efde51757_z.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Thirteen years ago I said these words to him. <i>I still mean them today</i>.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>Jonathan, I vow to be your faithful wife. I offer you my pure and true love and unwavering support throughout all our lives. As I stand here now in the presence of God and these witnesses, I commit myself to you. As we grow and share together, I will encourage you and strive to help you reach your full potential as God's creation, then I will celebrate your progress. I give myself to you as I am and as I will be for all of my life.</blockquote>I love you, baby. Like you said this morning, we are halfway to being gelled at 25 years! How blessed we are. I'll love you forever. I'm so grateful for the gift of you.<br />
<br />
<ul><li> {73} A husband who takes care of me, of us.</li>
<li>{74} He loves me, and our children know it. They pretend that love is gross, but we know it makes their hearts happy, their home secure.</li>
<li>{75} He takes me as I am, but encourages me to grow and change in response to God's will.</li>
<li>{76} He loves me like <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Ephesians.5:25-27&version=NIV">Paul said he should.</a></li>
<li>{77} He always protects, trusts, hopes, perseveres. He <i>is</i> <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20corinthians%2013:%204-7&version=NIV">love</a> to me.</li>
<li>{78} Knowing, believing that the best is yet to come.</li>
<li>{79} We've grown up together, are growing a family together, grow in the Lord together, and Lord willing, will grow old together. </li>
<li>{80} Striving together to be a <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Ecclesiastes%204:%209-12&version=NIV">cord of three strands.</a></li>
</ul>I am a blessed woman, loved by my Father, who has given me the gift of this man.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5831157703/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="photo(32) by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="photo(32)" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5068/5831157703_188f8df44f_z.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img src="http://i242.photobucket.com/albums/ff162/annvoskamp/multitudesonmondaysbutton2-1.jpg" /></a></div>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-66850383857874604232011-06-06T13:22:00.000-05:002011-06-06T13:22:58.024-05:00listing giftsthis listing gifts makes me look, really look, to see what He is giving. a gift in itself.<br />
<br />
<ul><li>{56} AW Tozer's writing: "The man who has God for his treasure has all things in One. Whatever he may lose he has actually lost nothing - for now he has it all in One." </li>
<li>{57} Knock of nephew on the door making uncle take a break from the work pressing down.</li>
<li>{58} The happy, running children because of that knock and the asking to come and play.</li>
<li>{59} The sending of His words through the words of another, whether written or spoken, perfectly timed.</li>
<li>{60} Like this: "Parenting is a process of regular disturbances for a high and noble end... we are to train and instruct our children. Training is sometimes painful, occasionally noisy, usually bothersome, and always purposeful." from Devotions for Sacred Parenting by Gary Thomas via <a href="http://thegypsymama.com./">thegypsymama.com.</a></li>
<li>{61} and this in her own words: "This business of raising small children is sacred soil and what I sow into it now is what I'm leaving them to reap." </li>
<li>{62} Miles telling me, "Mom, I remember when Milla was as small as a sesame seed." He brings this up from time to time, recalling what I said early in pregnancy with her.</li>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5803280926/" title="photo(30) by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="photo(30)" height="612" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3342/5803280926_77fa7a0b7e_z.jpg" width="612" /></a>
<li>{63} Ella safe after a close call at the pool. I can't thank Him enough {or get the image out of my head.}</li>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5802632621/" title="photo(25) by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="photo(25)" height="612" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3533/5802632621_499dc87f97_z.jpg" width="612" /></a>
<li>{64} The reminder - do not take them for granted.</li>
<li>{65} The dance recital. I laughed. I cried.</li>
<li>{66} My dancer.</li>
<li>{67} And how she loves me.</li>
<li>{68} Miles dressing himself for the recital. Button-up shirt. Jeans. Boots. Cowboy hat.</li>
<li>{69} Experiencing a roly poly with the first three.</li>
<li>{70} New {but careful} bravery in the pool. Ella and Miles jumping off the diving board with floaties.</li>
<li>{71} Milestones. {Finally} standing. Just now crawling.</li>
<object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" height="300" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=331ebd9be8&photo_id=5803188262"></param><param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param><param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=331ebd9be8&photo_id=5803188262" height="300" width="400"></embed></object>
<li>{72} The everlasting arms of <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=deut%2033:27&version=NIV">Deuteronomy 33:27.</a></li>
</ul><br />
I'll keep looking, listing. Others will too...<br />
<a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://i242.photobucket.com/albums/ff162/annvoskamp/multitudesonmondaysbutton2-1.jpg" ></a>Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-89967070907469161452011-05-28T09:37:00.001-05:002011-05-28T09:37:00.791-05:00Ella's dance recitalOr "cital" as she calls it. Whatever you call it, I have <i>almost never </i>seen anything as completely adorable as this preschool dance recital. I laughed, I almost cried, I smiled <i>a lot</i>. So sweet. Something I've waited a long time for, just for the sheer joy of it. {Like since the first time I saw tiny girls dance in a recital, like fifteen years ago. Yes, really.}<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5766662249/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="dance2011-4 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="dance2011-4" height="484" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5068/5766662249_8ec71e57d2_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">proud momma</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5767204626/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="dance2011-2 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="dance2011-2" height="640" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3396/5767204626_560a3aeffa_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">proud daddy</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5767205840/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="dance2011-5 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="dance2011-5" height="416" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3273/5767205840_c03acaebe0_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sweet little friends</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5766665717/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="dance2011-11 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="dance2011-11" height="427" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3175/5766665717_64aafc234f_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">jazz dance to <i>Route 66</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5766665949/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="dance2011-12 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="dance2011-12" height="478" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3598/5766665949_7f668fde37_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ballet dance to <i>What a Wonderful World</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5766665375/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="dance2011-10 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="dance2011-10" height="427" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5144/5766665375_24bff79227_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">proud brothers {even though they dreaded the event all week}. the daisies were from them. roses from daddy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5766664849/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="dance2011-9 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="dance2011-9" height="427" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3539/5766664849_134ba18282_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">daddy putting her necklace on</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5766778803/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="mosaicb8d8d7d5a87edc0d3ba2ee69432c25243053bc5c by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="mosaicb8d8d7d5a87edc0d3ba2ee69432c25243053bc5c" height="216" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5301/5766778803_45c9a2dc9f_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the dancer and her fans</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
And here is just a tiny little bit of sweetness - her ballet solo...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" height="225" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=6cec6bbe83&photo_id=5767258266"></param><param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param><param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=6cec6bbe83&photo_id=5767258266" height="225" width="400"></embed></object></div><br />
Didn't I warn you? Precious, yes?Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-74340236880216634802011-05-23T15:39:00.000-05:002011-05-23T15:39:00.706-05:00a little doll<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5701932623/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="firstdoll-1 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="firstdoll-1" height="640" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2064/5701932623_e40acc4956_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5702501414/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="firstdoll by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="firstdoll" height="640" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3166/5702501414_73b92397de_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I made her, and she was only here for a short time. She was made with someone else in mind, a little someone in Tennessee. I think I'll soon be making more. Two {for here}, at least. I used <a href="http://60piggies.blogspot.com/2008/10/softie-doll-tutorial.html">this tutorial</a> from 60 piggies, a favorite blog of mine. Maybe you should make one, too...Kristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2066897589824108962.post-57859999214869067632011-05-19T16:39:00.000-05:002011-05-19T16:39:26.118-05:00she's been here 9 months...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5736128672/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla9months-6 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla9months-6" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5306/5736128672_6b57e059c9_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
and it strikes me like it has with each little before her, she's been outside of me now as long as she was growing on the inside. How does this keep happening? My babies keep growing up while I turn away for a moment, or blink. Faster and faster. It's true what <i>they</i> used to say, the older you get, the more quickly time passes by. The eight year-old me didn't believe it. Now I <i>have</i> an eight year-old. And I want to hit pause or slow motion, something, anything, to slow down, to soak up, to revel, to enjoy <i>more</i>.<br />
<br />
<br />
I found this on a new {to me} blog a little while ago, and it both mad me a little sad and gave me comfort. What a wonderful gift this is, this mothering. This baby girl. Her big sister. Their big brothers. Gifts, each of them in their own way. A privilege, a present, to have them, hold them, teach them, grow them, pray them.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote>But this I do know. Motherhood grows from the inside out. <b>Motherhood means we stretch with new life, whether or not we deliver a baby. </b>We sustain. We ache. We carry. We care. We hold. We cherish. And we release.<br />
<br />
Then we wear the marks of that gift for a lifetime. And it is beautiful.</blockquote> from <a href="http://thegypsymama.com/2011/05/to-the-mother-in-you-whether-or-not-theres-a-baby/">The Gypsy Mama</a>. </blockquote></blockquote>And we release. Over and over again, we release. All too soon, I'll release this {last} first year. Around the same time I'll re-release my first little love back to the school room, and release Miles into one as well. It's what we do, yes? This letting go. But through each release and in between, during the having, holding, teaching, growing, praying, we have strong Arms holding us as well. To remind us where our help comes from:<br />
<br />
I lift up my eyes to the mountains— <br />
where does my help come from? <br />
<sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-16084">2</sup> My help comes from the LORD, <br />
the Maker of heaven and earth. <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-16085">3</sup> He will not let your foot slip— <br />
he who watches over you will not slumber; <br />
<sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-16086">4</sup> indeed, he who watches over Israel <br />
will neither slumber nor sleep. <br />
<sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-16087">5</sup> The LORD watches over you— <br />
the LORD is your shade at your right hand; <br />
<sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-16088">6</sup> the sun will not harm you by day, <br />
nor the moon by night. <br />
<sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-16089">7</sup> The LORD will keep you from all harm— <br />
he will watch over your life; <br />
<sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-16090">8</sup> the LORD will watch over your coming and going <br />
both now and forevermore.<br />
{Psalm 121}<br />
<br />
<br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5736129228/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla9months-8 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla9months-8" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5023/5736129228_eed7e1a345_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5735578659/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla9months-7 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla9months-7" height="640" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2128/5735578659_05046c84d5_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5736128416/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla9months-5 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla9months-5" height="640" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3054/5736128416_15c96756bd_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5736127780/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla9months-3 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla9months-3" height="640" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3330/5736127780_ee35342410_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5736128116/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla9months-4 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla9months-4" height="640" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2606/5736128116_edc2ed9ab1_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Milla Jean,<br />
<br />
Nine months! Can it be? You are certainly bringing more and more love out of us- each one of us is fairly head-over-heels for you {which says a lot for your little big brother}! You are changing, my love, and even though it breaks my heart a little it also makes my spirit soar- just what does your Father hold for your future? Such a sweet little thing he created in you, I just can't wait to know your soul even more. The glimpses I have now have me just smitten, joyful.<br />
<br />
You can stand on your own two feet when forced {thanks again to sweet Miss Ashley for helping you realize that standing is actually a thing}. You don't love it yet, but we are practicing a little each day. You pulled up on your knees in your crib just now, so we'll get there! You are really enjoying some finger foods now: puffs, cheerios, mum mums, a little chicken and beef here and there. I think we've finally {hopefully} seen the last of that overbearing gag reflex! <br />
<br />
You are momma's girl, although Daddy comes in a very close second. You've done a bang up job of making him adore you. It's been so special to have him working from home during your littlest time, a blessing for both of you {and me!}. <br />
<br />
Just the other day you had your nine month old check-up. You didn't mind the finger prick, although it annoyed you when she kept hold of that finger for too long of a bit. The shots, though? Well, they got all over you. And I have precious {though pitiful} proof:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5735605275/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="mosaic758691e8925a5877e32811661adc3c8119833c0e by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="mosaic758691e8925a5877e32811661adc3c8119833c0e" height="213" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2422/5735605275_7bff3fb73b_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This crinkly paper is fun. This band-aid is annoying. Those shots were just mean."</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
You weighed 18 pounds, 13 ounces{45th %ile} and were 28 inches long{70th %ile}. Baby girl, you are way ahead of the game with head circumference at 18 inches{90th %ile}! My beautiful bobble head. ;)<br />
<br />
I'm fairly certain you recently said the uh part of "uh-oh!" and you've just learned to clap, which you think is so very wonderful. So do I. You love to play on the floor, and are so good at entertaining yourself. You are just starting to attempt a little forward movement commando style. I am just so thoroughly enjoying your babyness, since I know it will continue to fly by. I'm not in a hurry for the next milestone. Now that I know for sure your lack of bearing weight skills isn't because you can't, but you just don't want to, I can really relax {while still encouraging new skills} and just see what happens when.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/57866118@N08/5735576601/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="milla9months-1 by kctorode, on Flickr"><img alt="milla9months-1" height="640" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2192/5735576601_8a956dce24_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I love you my sweet girl. Forever and ever.<br />
mommaKristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00094541352875563605noreply@blogger.com0