Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Reflecting on This Year's Resolutions
href="http://peterpollock.com/2010/12/reflection-blog-carnival/">Today's One Word for the One Word blog carnival is Reflection. Since we are almost at the end of 2010, I have decided to reflect on my progress with this year's New Year Resolutions. There have been years where I didn't make any resolutions, but at the beginning of 2010, I decided I need to work on some things.
href="http://randommusings-helen.blogspot.com/2010/01/yes-i-made-couple-of-new-year.html">I made two New Year resolutions this year: to pick something to be grateful to God for daily, and to be a friend to myself.
First of all, I did not tweet daily about something new I was grateful for having. I may have lasted a week or two. I later gave myself permission to be repetitive, and then later, to not tweet it, but to thank God privately. I don't purposely sit at my bedside any longer thinking "Hmmm... what shall I be grateful for today.....", but I do find myself blurting a thank you to God when I find a lost passport, or send an email and remember that it wasn't so long ago that "snail mail" was the only mail, and that it took some effort for people to get back to you (and vice versa), so that a response would take more than a week if lucky, or use a pen to paper and thank God that I can read and write... I'm sure there are days when I forget to thank God for something, and other days where I thank Him more often.
Secondly, how good of a friend was I to myself? I would say that I worked on it and did better than I have in the past. I ended up choosing one thing a month to improve on. I drink more tea than coffee, I choose water more than soda pop, I was eating less sweets (until the limited edition fudge mint covered Oreo cookies came out, anyway...), I eat only wheat bread, I choose the whole wheat pasta, I was cooking a vegetable with every meal until Bob's allergy scared me, I do stretchy exercises (no, not yoga. I'm not that stretchy), and my "self talk" has improved (I think the Women's Prayer group has a lot to do with that, BTW....). I was supposed to do more exercising, but in the summer was short of breath and six weeks ago hurt my toes.... It didn't happen. I haven't given up though. My toes are fine now and I am not out of breath. It's too snowy to walk outside, but then that's why God invented shopping malls and Costco, right people?
Are the changes I made lasting changes? Some are. I like wheat bread and whole wheat pasta. I find tap water is available as I do my daily tasks and easier to get to than a bottle of pop (which then creates garbage for me to throw out). I like the way it is easy to get variety with tea rather inexpensively compared with coffee. I'm not fond of stretchy exercises though, and I need to get back "on the wagon" with sweets. I found in October that some clothes that hadn't fit me for a while (and didn't give away because it felt like giving up) now fit, so I must have done okay with my resolutions (though weight loss itself was not the resolution... too many years of disappointment to set myself up again). I think realistically, I can get back on the wagon by January 3. Honestly, I still have places to go and people to see who know my fondness for the fudge mint covered Oreo (and I have two boxes left).
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
So Tell Me, Will I Be Able to Wiggle My Pinky Toe?
Because I wasn't able to before....
What does an elephant do if it breaks a toe?
Gives up ballet dancing.
Gives up ballet dancing.
Good news! The tape is off the toesies! I have been away from my computer for a while because I cracked three of my toes in four places. I know. What does that have to do with anything? It's not like I type with my toes! Well, for the first three weeks, the doctor wanted me to have my foot elevated at all times, minus eating and peeing of course. And of course I went to Church and taught CCD. And of course I went to Christmas parties. In other words, I obeyed the doctor 95% the time, which is the best I've done in obeying a man since my daddy was alive. (Bob has a special kind of way of convincing me he is right so that by the end of a discussion I usually agree with him, so the word "obey" hardly fits in such situations.) And speaking of Bob, he was a darling who even took on the cooking responsibilities while I was elevating my foot. Unfortunately, we couldn't figure out a position for me at my computer desk that would allow my toes to be higher than my heart.
The next two weeks the doctor allowed me to put weight on my foot and do what I want, but with the tape still on it. That meant that for every hour I spent on my foot, I wanted it elevated for an hour and a half. (Really. My feet swell during the day, and swollen and taped toesies are no fun. It feels like the tape is trying to choke the toes. That's right. My toes couldn't breathe!)
So now with Christmas a few days away, I need to spend time cleaning house. My only company is my uncle who knows the situation, but still, it wouldn't look very hospitable if my house was a mess. I won't be able to make up for five weeks in a few days, so my decorating is limited to a wreath and tree in the window, the throws my mom made on the furniture, and a poinsettia on the dining room table. I suppose that since this is my first Christmas without Momma, I really don't want more than that (except for Bob to find the creche) anyway, but now I have a reasonable excuse.
So now that the tape is off the toesies, I can dance on the table for Christmas! (Not really.)
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Oh Christmas Tree
My mom and dad were great people. They loved each other, me, and Christmas ( I can't even begin to say in which order). However, one thing my Daddy did NOT love was putting up a tree. I was allergic to pine, so we couldn't have real tree. We had a plastic tree, my guess is about eight feet high. I have pictures to prove it was at LEAST two feet taller than Daddy, who was six feet tall. Back then, plastic trees weren't folded in for storage, then folded out to decorate. No, they had to be put in branch by branch by branch. There were little numbers with letters on the stem to let the assembler know which row a particular branch belonged. I swear, I remember branches named "12 F".
The storage box that contained these branches was awkward to get up the stairs from the basement. Daddy was grumpy by the time he carried it to the living room, and that's putting it nicely. Thus would begin my parent's yearly "putting up the tree" fight.
Daddy: Who the HELL put these branches in here like this!
Momma: You take the tree down and put away the branches every year, Frankie, and you know it!
Daddy: HMMPHH!!!! (grumble grumpble grumble).
(Daddy proceeds to put the tree up, starting with the topper)
Daddy: There, that'll do!
Momma: (face crumpling a bit) No it won't, and you know it!
Daddy: (grumple grumble grumble)
(Daddy continues to mumble and grumble for a while, and gets to row 10 B)
Daddy: Who the HELL ever picked out this damn tree anyway!
Momma: Well, don't blame your daughter, she wasn't even born yet.
Daddy: I WASN'T blaming Helen....
Momma: I know, Frankie. Lighten up! It's Christmas!
Daddy: (chewing on a Muriel air tip cigar whilst sitting among piles of large branches). Yeah yeah.... Then I get to carry up the tree ornament boxes, and then all those knickknacks your Mom bought us over the years........... You know she forgot what she's given us and we have 3 pairs of Christmas tree salt shakers from Wieboldt's!
Momma: DON'T start with me, Frank!
Daddy: What, you know it's true! And the ash trays, and the ...
Momma: Just STOP it! I won't discus my mother or her gifts with you when you are like this!
Daddy: Like what?
(And off they are into a full blown argument that meanders into every annoying thing the other did since last Christmas. No, we haven't even begun to untangle the lights yet.)
My Momma, God rest her soul, was usually peaceable for as long as possible. Seriously.
But one year when I was in college, my Mom started her own bad mood. She knew what to expect when Daddy went down for the tree, and she was seething with memories of Christmas tree assemblages past.
Daddy puts on his jacket and heads for the door.
Momma: Where are you going?
Daddy: To the basement...
Momma: You better not be bringing up the tree!
Daddy: Why not!
Momma: I don't even want a tree this year! I don't want any
Daddy: (interrupting her) Really Honey? Do you mean it? (His eyes are shining and he is holding her affectionately at her shoulders)
Momma: (stunned silence)
Daddy: Oh Honey, I'll bring up EVERY one of the decorations your mother gave us! I'll clean them piece by piece, and I'll even help you find a good spot for the duplicates!
Momma: If that's what you'd like!
Daddy: This is the best Christmas gift ever! Where should we put the lights?
That scaled back Christmas was delightful! No harsh words or grumpiness whatsoever: Daddy was soappreciative of not having to work on the branches that nothing else bothered him and Momma was stunned that the first year she pumps herself up for the argument, it deflates before it begins.
In November I injured my foot. I'm barely able to clean house, much less decorate. Bob brought up the tree and a wreath, I put up the Christmas throws my mother made, and that's it. I'm not worrying about Grandma's knickknacks, mom's ornaments, MIL's centerpiece, or decorative gifts I received in past years. I enjoy them most years, but this year, with the tape on my foot, all that running around would not make Christmas more meaningful, but a chore to get through. I may put a Christmassy table cloth on the dining room table, or I may not. Decorating doesn't HAVE to get done to prepare for Christmas. If Jesus comes back and finds my house lit a bit dimmer, I'd be more comfortable with that than for him to find me frazzled and grumbling at those who love me.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Do They Get the Hallmark Channel in Heaven?
Last year for the One Word blog carnival, Grief was one of the topics we wrote about in December. The gist of my post was that Christmas is a tough time to grieve, and I shared my prayer for those who are grieving to find it in their hearts to rejoice in the birth of their own Savior, and hopefully the Savior of the one / ones they lost.
This December, we are blogging on the opposite word, Rejoice, for the One Word Blog carnival. A much more fitting topic during this season, you'd think, except for the fact that this is my first Christmas without my Mom. I wept on the First Easter and Mother's Day without her. I went to her grave site on my birthday. I held it together for the most part her birthday, but then, I had a Mass said for her and was blessed to have my aunt, uncle and cousins there to offer support.
I miss her. I watch a new movie on the Hallmark Channel, and when it is over, I tear up thinking about how much mom would have enjoyed the movie. Then this little voice says in my ear "Really Helen? You think your Momma is thinking 'Yes, the fruits of Heaven are nice, but it's too bad I had to miss 'Debbie Macomber's Call Me Mrs. Miracle'?" And I laugh. As delightful as that movie was, I know that Momma isn't missing a thing.
I listen to Bing Crosby singing "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas", and I start to sing, then I feel guilty because Momma loved Bing Crosby and I shouldn't feel like singing the first year she is gone. Then I remember how much Mom loved to hear me sing, (not that I sing well, just that she was the kind of Momma who was happy when I was happy, you know...), and I know that it would sadden her if the songs left my heart. (Besides that, she gets to hear Bing Crosby LIVE this Christmas, right?)
I think of how the last few years I prayed that those who grieve would be able to rejoice at Christmas in the birth of their own and their loved one's Savior, and I am amazed at the tenderness of God... He has given me the very gift I prayed for others.
Praise Him!
"Hark, now hear the angels sing, a king was born today,
And man will live for evermore, because of Christmas Day
Mary's boy child, Jesus Christ, was born on Christmas Day.
For a moment the world was aglow, all the bells rang out
there were tears of joy and laughter, people shouted
"let everyone know, there is hope for all to find peace".
These words make me weep with overwhelming joy.
"Oh my Lord, You sent your son to save us
Oh my Lord, Your very self you gave us
Oh my Lord, That sin may not enslave us
And love may reign once more "
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
She's Back, She's Bad
I am going to assume that you all have been missing me terribly. My ego just couldn't stand it if that assumption were wrong, so if you haven't even noticed that I haven't been blogging, don't tell me. Your silence in the comment box will let it be known....
Anyhow, before Halloween I was helping to prepare a Halloween shindig at Church. Yes. Fun was had by many. I even had a TWSS moment with some Church people over Jello Jigglers.
After Halloween I took a few days to be depressed over mom's passing. November 2 is a special day for us where we remember our beloved dead... Unfortunately, mom's passing is still fresh and hurts to contemplate.
Friday and Saturday I was at a Catechist Conference (Conference for Catholic "Sunday School" teachers). It was fabulous. I went to a two day workshop about Scripture. I now have a handy dandy outline of the history of the Old Testament to aide me during my Scripture reading, as well as some other cool references.
Sunday after Church I went to see my cousin Katy star in a dance performance. Okay. She was in the ensemble, but to me, she was the star. When she was on stage, who could look at anyone else, she is so graceful. And THAT is the reason she was dancing in the back row! (Seriously!)
Monday was Bob's birthday. We went to the Art Institute of Chicago. We had a lot of fun. I think the last time we went there together, we were still dating, so this was fun.
What did I get him? Come on, what more could he want?
How about you? Have I missed anything spectacular in your life? Let me know if congratulations are in order!
Anyhow, before Halloween I was helping to prepare a Halloween shindig at Church. Yes. Fun was had by many. I even had a TWSS moment with some Church people over Jello Jigglers.
After Halloween I took a few days to be depressed over mom's passing. November 2 is a special day for us where we remember our beloved dead... Unfortunately, mom's passing is still fresh and hurts to contemplate.
Friday and Saturday I was at a Catechist Conference (Conference for Catholic "Sunday School" teachers). It was fabulous. I went to a two day workshop about Scripture. I now have a handy dandy outline of the history of the Old Testament to aide me during my Scripture reading, as well as some other cool references.
Sunday after Church I went to see my cousin Katy star in a dance performance. Okay. She was in the ensemble, but to me, she was the star. When she was on stage, who could look at anyone else, she is so graceful. And THAT is the reason she was dancing in the back row! (Seriously!)
Monday was Bob's birthday. We went to the Art Institute of Chicago. We had a lot of fun. I think the last time we went there together, we were still dating, so this was fun.
What did I get him? Come on, what more could he want?
How about you? Have I missed anything spectacular in your life? Let me know if congratulations are in order!
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Call Me MRS. Moeshmossgepup: I Worked Hard for That Title
Okay. Obviously the video I chose for "Hooray for Saturday" has a political agenda. It's still funny.
Hat tip to Valerie Jane at 2SecondsFaster for the video.
Hat tip to Valerie Jane at 2SecondsFaster for the video.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Condemnation
I suppose the difference between conviction and condemnation is whether it draws us closer to God, or makes us push away from Him. Oversimplification? Perhaps. There are some wonderful posts on Bridget Chumbley's blog today. Many of their posts explain far better than I do.
I do have a habit of dwelling on what I have done wrong, or could have done better. God doesn't want that. After repentance and reconciliation, there is no need for it. Instead I need to think of better things.
Philippians 4:8
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.
Jesus did not come to bring us condemnation, but salvation. I love how this song brings that home for me.
I do have a habit of dwelling on what I have done wrong, or could have done better. God doesn't want that. After repentance and reconciliation, there is no need for it. Instead I need to think of better things.
Philippians 4:8
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.
Jesus did not come to bring us condemnation, but salvation. I love how this song brings that home for me.
HoseaGregory Norbert© 1972 The Benedictine Foundation of the State of VermontCome back to me with all your heart.Don't let fear keep us apart.Trees do bend, though straight and tallso must we, to other's call.Long have I waited for your coming,home to me and living, deeply our new lives.The wilderness will lead youto your heart where I will speak.Integrity and justice,With tenderness, you shall know.Long have I waited for your coming,home to me and living, deeply our new lives.You shall sleep secure with peace;faithfulness will be your joy.Long have I waited for your coming,home to me and living, deeply our new lives
Friday, October 15, 2010
He's Home
Reunited With Windows
home again
where there are lots of windows
to let in the daylight
and the warm light of God's presence in the our dark corners after dusk
rather than cold fluorescent bulbs.
Bob is home and taking medication. He seems as fine as ever, though we don't know for sure what started this. Thank you for your prayers.
My poetry leaves A LOT to be desired, but right now I have my heart's desire: my husband is well and at home.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
WIthout Windows
Without Windows
grey walls
white cabinets
blue curtains
the e.r. looks the same
whether 9 a.m.
or 9 p.m.
i like to know
when daylight arrives
Hubs is in the hospital with a rash, low blood pressure, and vomiting. I've come home to put on clothes. No, I wasn't nekkid. I accompanied him in my jammies (Okay, I was wearing a muumuu). There will be no update until visiting hours are over...
Sorry. No pleasantly disturbed post or linkage today.
grey walls
white cabinets
blue curtains
the e.r. looks the same
whether 9 a.m.
or 9 p.m.
i like to know
when daylight arrives
Hubs is in the hospital with a rash, low blood pressure, and vomiting. I've come home to put on clothes. No, I wasn't nekkid. I accompanied him in my jammies (Okay, I was wearing a muumuu). There will be no update until visiting hours are over...
Sorry. No pleasantly disturbed post or linkage today.
Monday, October 11, 2010
A Snow Day to Warm Your Heart
Remember when you were a child, and a snow day meant fun and discovery instead of a back ache from shoveling, or a face full of wet snow coming at you speedily from the snowblower? Can you call to mind being called indoors for a cup of hot chocolate and a change into clothes warmed from the heat of the radiator? Do you recall just hoping the day wouldn't end, and when it did, that another snow day would be coming around soon?
Well, Billy Coffey revives that sense of discovery, adventure, comfort, and warmth with his first book, Snow Day. (And lucky you, it is available today. Go ahead and order it. I'll wait here...)
His protagonist, Peter Boyd, is an easy to relate to likable man, who is both proud and humble at the same time. He sees the beauty in the people around him, and finds someone to learn from in every situation. I love how Billy Coffey interweaves the stories of various townspeople into the larger theme of Peter Boyd's search for and finding of purpose.
Snow Day is an excellent book to give away as a Christmas gift, and exceptional book to read any time of year. Allow Snow Day to melt your heart this year!
Well, Billy Coffey revives that sense of discovery, adventure, comfort, and warmth with his first book, Snow Day. (And lucky you, it is available today. Go ahead and order it. I'll wait here...)
His protagonist, Peter Boyd, is an easy to relate to likable man, who is both proud and humble at the same time. He sees the beauty in the people around him, and finds someone to learn from in every situation. I love how Billy Coffey interweaves the stories of various townspeople into the larger theme of Peter Boyd's search for and finding of purpose.
Snow Day is an excellent book to give away as a Christmas gift, and exceptional book to read any time of year. Allow Snow Day to melt your heart this year!
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Niceness is ..... Nice: Pleasantly Disturbed Thursday
I am ticked off at some of the comments I have read on youtube lately. Last week a friend on Facebook recommended I check out a video of Queen singing "We Are the Champions". I found it very moving, not because it was their best performance, but for exactly the opposite reason. Freddie Mercury seemed to be struggling with some of the notes, and his band mate rescued him. I imagine that Mr. Mercury had already been sick at the time of the video, but he wanted to be there for his band mates who were in turn there for him. Maybe I'm guilty of romanticizing the situation, but I find it preferable to the attitude some of the commenters had. Why should anyone be writing hateful things about a man who has been dead for ten years whose talent gave us some awesome rock anthems? Okay. He liked men. I'm not comfortable with that. SO WHAT? He was a dang fine artist and his legacy should be the music he left behind, not how he got the disease he died from!!!
Yesterday I looked at the comments left by Youtubers at a video of Heart's "Magic Man". First of all you had people hating on Heart for not being as good a Pat Benatar. I find that to be a matter of opinion, but why leave a negative comment about a great song because you like Pat Benatar better? WEIRD!!!
But that is not all. Some lady who was widowed young left a comment on the same video about how her husband LOVED that song and how God blessed them with 34 years together (Yes, a fifty some year old widow is young) and she knows they were a match made in Heaven. Can you believe there were people hating on that comment? I'm appalled! I'm flabbergasted! I'm outraged! I'm revolted! One might even go so far as to say.... I'm miffed! (Couldn't resist a Daffy duck spin off, sorry. Start the video at the one minute mark to see what I'm talking about).
Why argue with a widow about the existence of God? Why try to steal someone's peace from them just because you think they believe in the equivalent of Candyland with an M & M river (no, the woman in question did not seem to be talking Candyland, I'm being sarcastic here) , Almond Joy falls everywhere and you believe in nothing?
What happened to people? Didn't their mamas ever teach them that if they can't leave nice comments, they shouldn't leave any (unless of course they are funny. My mama LOVED to laugh!)?
Sorry that today was Pleasantly Disturbed- Pleasant = Disturbedly
I'm so glad all of you are nice!
:-)
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Depend on God : Chapter 6 of The Hole in Our Gospel
The Hole in Me
In Chapter 6, Mr. Stearns describes how he came to believe in God. It was not an easy road for him. He learned at a young age that he'd have to rely on himself and not his parents (nonpracticing Catholics). This made it difficult to believe in God, and for a long time, he didn't. He learned to depend on himself alone, which developed into a sort of Religion of self. Eventually a book given to him by a friend a few years before found its way out of a box and open onto his lap on a boring Saturday evening. That book awakened a curiosity in him and he asked for recommendations of other books and so on...
The study guide encouraged us to reflect on how our own childhoods affected our faith development. I long ago told you here how my daddy was a wonderful father whose example could help me see how God could be angry in the Old Testament and loving in the New Testament. My daddy would get scary angry if I did something stupid that could have had bad results (playing with knives, trying to leave the house on my own at age three to visit neighbors when mom was busy, standing on ledges, running with scissors, the usual stuff). A couple of times he spanked me, but mostly he'd get a look on his face that would have struck terror in a saber tooth tiger. Seriously.
I also had a mom prayed for me and who would try to guide me into being kind and forgiving even when I was hurt, like Jesus. Unfortunately my dear daddy was as protective of me being hurt by others as he was of me being hurt by myself, and discouraged me from forgiving. I remember being told by him that when I turned the left cheek, I should be pulling my arm into a right cross as well. English was my daddy's second language. That is the only explanation I really have for him telling me "Forgiving makes you weak." It dawned on me a couple of weeks ago that I couldn't believe a friend forgave me (and therefore forgive myself) because I wouldn't have forgiven her if the tables were turned. I was far more vulnerable from not forgiving than I would be if I was forgiving. Then it dawned on me: my daddy wasn't deriding me for being week. He was beseeching me not to allow myself to be vulnerable, but used the wrong word. He was always worried about me getting hurt, so of course he worried that by forgiving others, I would leave myself vulnerable to those who would only keep on hurting me. He was a great earthly daddy, but he wasn't God. He couldn't know that I would spend years unable to forgive myself for the smallest transgression because it was only fair that if I would not forgive others, I should not forgive myself either.
I, too, had my own part to play in this. I chose to depend on the wisdom of my earthly father (a good and wise man, btw) rather than that of my Heavenly Father. Mr. Stearns depended on himself instead of God in his early years, while I was blessed with a great dad whom I depended on, long after he was gone. I am grateful for his guidance and good example. It is my own fault that I depended on him rather than Him.
Other thoughts on this chapter are being shared on my friend Jason's blog. Go check it out.
In Chapter 6, Mr. Stearns describes how he came to believe in God. It was not an easy road for him. He learned at a young age that he'd have to rely on himself and not his parents (nonpracticing Catholics). This made it difficult to believe in God, and for a long time, he didn't. He learned to depend on himself alone, which developed into a sort of Religion of self. Eventually a book given to him by a friend a few years before found its way out of a box and open onto his lap on a boring Saturday evening. That book awakened a curiosity in him and he asked for recommendations of other books and so on...
The study guide encouraged us to reflect on how our own childhoods affected our faith development. I long ago told you here how my daddy was a wonderful father whose example could help me see how God could be angry in the Old Testament and loving in the New Testament. My daddy would get scary angry if I did something stupid that could have had bad results (playing with knives, trying to leave the house on my own at age three to visit neighbors when mom was busy, standing on ledges, running with scissors, the usual stuff). A couple of times he spanked me, but mostly he'd get a look on his face that would have struck terror in a saber tooth tiger. Seriously.
I also had a mom prayed for me and who would try to guide me into being kind and forgiving even when I was hurt, like Jesus. Unfortunately my dear daddy was as protective of me being hurt by others as he was of me being hurt by myself, and discouraged me from forgiving. I remember being told by him that when I turned the left cheek, I should be pulling my arm into a right cross as well. English was my daddy's second language. That is the only explanation I really have for him telling me "Forgiving makes you weak." It dawned on me a couple of weeks ago that I couldn't believe a friend forgave me (and therefore forgive myself) because I wouldn't have forgiven her if the tables were turned. I was far more vulnerable from not forgiving than I would be if I was forgiving. Then it dawned on me: my daddy wasn't deriding me for being week. He was beseeching me not to allow myself to be vulnerable, but used the wrong word. He was always worried about me getting hurt, so of course he worried that by forgiving others, I would leave myself vulnerable to those who would only keep on hurting me. He was a great earthly daddy, but he wasn't God. He couldn't know that I would spend years unable to forgive myself for the smallest transgression because it was only fair that if I would not forgive others, I should not forgive myself either.
I, too, had my own part to play in this. I chose to depend on the wisdom of my earthly father (a good and wise man, btw) rather than that of my Heavenly Father. Mr. Stearns depended on himself instead of God in his early years, while I was blessed with a great dad whom I depended on, long after he was gone. I am grateful for his guidance and good example. It is my own fault that I depended on him rather than Him.
Other thoughts on this chapter are being shared on my friend Jason's blog. Go check it out.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Random Thoughts on Healing
Sometimes I think that God's definition of healing is different than my own. For instance, I want to be healed of the inability to conceive. I suspect He wants me to be healed of desiring something more than I do Him. Anyway, my thoughts on the words healing are going to be expressed in this post letter by letter.
ope in Him and His promises.
ncourage one another.
cceptance of His guidance and love.
oving Him and His people.
nsisting on faith instead of doubt inside our hearts.
ourish ourselves and each other with the power of His words.
iving Him all that we are.
This blog carnival on the word healing sponsored by Bridget Chumbley.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Twik or Tweet Week 1
First, a public service announcement. Neither Twik or Tweet, but a treat indeed. Billy Coffey, the soon to be famous author, has a facebook page up for his book, and you have the opportunity to "like" it. Go ahead and take a moment to do that . I'll wait.
Click here and like Billy, please.
There you go. Wasn't that fun?
Time for Twik or Tweet
Did these (in)famous twitter users really tweet this? You decide. Answers at the end!
- duane_scott
me when the last time I played footsie was.about 3 hours ago via TweetCaster in reply to dlrayburn
- katdish
@ArleneTaveroff: Men! The only animal in the world to fear.
~D.H. Lawrenceabout 7 hours ago via TweetDeck
- sarahmsalter
pencil." Really? Hmmm.
about 8 hours ago via web
- Nick_theGeek
good.
about 12 hours ago via TweetDeck
- SBeeCreations
side. Goodnight, ladies & asses
about 21 hours ago via Twitter for iPhone
- CandySteele
"cool" athletic injuries he treats,but u would all unfollow me
#bloodyfascinatingabout 22 hours ago via TweetDeck
- dlrayburn
send a singing telegram (pick you rmost embarassing) to
@duane_scott at the church
.2:16 PM Sep 29th via TweetDeck
- Helenatrandom
playing footsie with me is dangerous, because I've it's a game
I always win!
12:23 PM Sep 29th via web in reply to sarahmsalter
- katdish
Richards, b/c I really do care what Paris Hilton's mom is up
to.11:09 PM Sep 28th via TweetDeck
- weightwhat
I'm just not sure.
11:10 AM Sep 27th via web
- br8kthru
forms is now blocked at work so i can't check in but by
phone. :)9:54 AM Sep 27th via HootSuite in reply to weightwhat
- gabbysherri
@sarahmsalter -too busy, Miss Sarah. And since Brian broke facebook, I have some free time!3:53 PM Sep 23rd via TweetDeck in reply to sarahmsalter
And the long awaited answers...
- duane_scott
me when the last time I played footsie was.
about 3 hours ago via TweetCaster in reply to dlrayburnYes. To be young and in love... I know what that is like... at least the in love part...
- katdish
@ArleneTaveroff: Men! The only animal in the world to fear.
~D.H. Lawrenceabout 7 hours ago via TweetDeckThough katdish is not particularly fond of clowns, she has no problem with Nemo or his daddy.
- sarahmsalter
pencil." Really? Hmmm.
about 8 hours ago via webLike I could make THAT up...
- Nick_theGeek
salsa, and jalepenos. Sooo good
.about 12 hours ago via TweetDeck
- Yeah. Sausage, bacon, and cheese are more my style. But hey, if you like spicy food, I imagine that this was a good breakfast.
- SBeeCreations
side. Goodnight, lads & lasses
about 21 hours ago via Twitter for iPhoneIt was around midnight. I misread the tweet, and figured it would make a great Twik or Tweet entry.
- CandySteele
"cool" athletic injuries he treats,but u would all unfollow me
#bloodyfascinatingabout 22 hours ago via TweetDeckAll true.
- dlrayburn
send a singing telegram (pick you rmost embarassing) to
@duane_scott at the church
.2:16 PM Sep 29th via TweetDeckI didn't alter this one. As a matter of fact, if you are in, let me know!
- Helenatrandom
playing footsie with me is dangerous, because I've it's a game
I always win!
12:23 PM Sep 29th via web in reply to sarahmsalterYep I tweeted it. Typos and all...
- katdish
Richards, b/c I really don't care what Paris Hilton's mom is up
to.
11:09 PM Sep 28th via TweetDeckYeah... she really isn't into the whole Paris Hilton thing...
- weightwhat
just not sure.
11:10 AM Sep 27th via webYes. Cheetos, not Cheerios. If you'd pay any attention to Wendy's tweets, this would be a giveaway.
- br8kthru
forms is now blocked at work so i can't check in but by
phone. :)
9:54 AM Sep 27th via HootSuite in reply to weightwhat
I left this tweet in tact as a sort of public service announcement so that we know why we don't hear from him during the day so much anymore. Hopefully he tweets something I can really run with next week. :-)
- gabbysherri
Did I neglect to include you? Let me know if I have disappointed you, and I will try harder to include you next week.
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