tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16158454718657353272024-03-13T16:50:19.302-04:00Found on a FridayHolly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-12117332889867831492020-07-10T13:14:00.001-04:002020-07-10T13:14:44.883-04:00Great reads from fellow writers<div><br /></div>Are you wondering where your identity rests? In this post, Lisa Dean explores finding your identity in Christ in a deeply personal way: <a href="https://lisazdean.com/dealing-with-the-real-question-behind-what-is-my-identity-in-christ/#comment-73">https://lisazdean.com/dealing-with-the-real-question-behind-what-is-my-identity-in-christ/#comment-73</a><div><br /></div><div>Are you needing some encouragement about the upcoming school year with the ever present pandemic? You simply must read what Leah McKinney has to share here - beautiful!!</div><div><a href="https://leahmckinney.com/three-tips-to-help-you-with-school-this-year/">https://leahmckinney.com/three-tips-to-help-you-with-school-this-year/</a></div><div><br /></div>Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-66494508795022931062020-07-08T13:44:00.003-04:002020-07-08T14:00:12.556-04:00The struggle to hold on or let go<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCeqe42GS5D4PDssLzc40BrSHR2fAoJUaN3wOT6O39tBDanGiY-t4iyPTxy0ahqaxm8TqshYUOKkzT9uYdATtBYiHJOt6gnbHjIHwaTDeHhrRXiM3dcJrrrsHL5A6WE0ZdB0k1x-EDrrw/s4032/Sunrise+Larkin.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCeqe42GS5D4PDssLzc40BrSHR2fAoJUaN3wOT6O39tBDanGiY-t4iyPTxy0ahqaxm8TqshYUOKkzT9uYdATtBYiHJOt6gnbHjIHwaTDeHhrRXiM3dcJrrrsHL5A6WE0ZdB0k1x-EDrrw/s320/Sunrise+Larkin.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I thought I would be with her when she stepped away from
earth and into heaven. She had been laboring more with her breathing the past
few days, strong medicine keeping her out of consciousness. I honestly did not
think it would be the night she left us. Yet I kissed her and told her it was
ok to go home that evening. How could I say that and not realize what was going
to happen? Her breathing was a loud rattling. If you’ve ever sat with someone
who is dying you know that sound. It is unmistakable and horrible. There’s no
way to sleep through that sound, yet that is what I did. I put in ear plugs,
took a sedative and went to sleep. So many sleepless nights had left me
exhausted. If I could just sleep a few hours. Around 2:00 am I woke up
suddenly. No rattled breathing. All was quiet. Wait… is she gone? I jumped up
from the bed and walked to her side. No, she was not breathing. I held her hand
and it was still warm. Oh Mom. Her hand still has the warmth of life in it.
Hands that held me in strong embrace only five days ago while I sobbed. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Have you walked the long road home with a loved one before? Watched
a chronic illness shrink the life in someone? If you have, you know the tension
that is never resolved: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don’t want
her to struggle any more, and you also don’t want to let her go. You cannot
have both. Years of watching her quality of life diminish in no way makes the
final good-bye a blessed event. Even the promise of her finally being Home does
nothing for the pain. As a believer that is hard to admit. And I know for
certain that Jesus himself does not judge me for that. He knew that pain too.
Do you remember the story of Lazarus? Jesus, being fully God knew that his beloved
friend would die. And he knew he would raise him back to life. Yet when confronted
with the grief of losing his friend and seeing the pain of Mary and Martha,
what did he do? He wept. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">It is only now that I can grasp the profound mystery and
comfort of that shortest verse in the bible. He knows my pain. He feels my grief
as real as I feel it now. Simultaneously he knows the joy of having my mom home
with him, healed forever. Grief and joy. A time to mourn and a time to dance.
Jesus can mourn with me and dance with my mom. In Him all things truly do hold
together. And in him I am held together.<o:p></o:p></p><br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-15279309082150950702020-02-20T11:53:00.002-05:002020-02-20T11:53:35.209-05:00Found at the Beach
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BRuVRaexbRtFyHGtd3z2ZXmdr-_WygX4_UTmKfNnOXwedTIgJNO6ioWBfF1MZogMsenqudo1f_6iwWCbz0xrM9vcNcLnsEPAsYd71pV1h-m81Z_jxHjX9iz46Mi4lb5RbgcwoaHZ4J0/s1600/IMG_5708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BRuVRaexbRtFyHGtd3z2ZXmdr-_WygX4_UTmKfNnOXwedTIgJNO6ioWBfF1MZogMsenqudo1f_6iwWCbz0xrM9vcNcLnsEPAsYd71pV1h-m81Z_jxHjX9iz46Mi4lb5RbgcwoaHZ4J0/s320/IMG_5708.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mom, one of my earliest memories of you is finding me at
Topsail Beach when I went missing. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember waking up early and having the
exciting realization that I could join you and Dad on your morning walk on the
beach. Little did I know that part of your purpose in the early hour walk was
to have some time to yourselves without me and my sister. Now that I think about it,
I smile thinking of the two of you enjoying time together walking on the sand,
hearing the waves gently break on the shore. Walking with my husband on the beach,
just us, is certainly one of my favorite things to do. But when you are toddler
age, such appreciation is nonexistent because life is firmly centered on self.
One must be in the middle of everything because if not… something of immense
importance will surely be missed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So with my centrist view of the world I got up and excitedly
put on my shoes and went to the glass doors leading outside. Oddly, the coffee
table was pushed up against the doors quite well, blocking my ability to reach
the doorknob and lock. Logic and reason did not give me pause. With my now
adult mind I can easily see that this barrier was meant to deter me from
leaving the house. Instead, my toddler strength pushed the coffee table aside
and I unlocked the door, bounced down the steps to the street and headed across
the road to the beach access. I ran down the sandy path and arrived at the
opening to see… beach and waves… and no people. No Mom. No Dad. Just waves and
sand and sea grass to my right and left. Hmmm…. They must be walking fast
today. I must run and catch up with them. To the right I ran, down onto the
beach to the harder packed sand. Running… running… still no sight of Mom and
Dad. And now I realize how much beach and sand there is… with no people. And this
is no longer fun. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Exhilaration from the run and anticipation of finding them
is quickly overtaken by concern and then abject fear. Ok, I will return to the
high sand near the dunes and sea grass and look for the flag that marks the
beach access point back to our rental house. The sand is so high up there and
my little legs slow down a lot to make these hard high tracks. There’s a flag.
Not our flag. There’s another flag, maybe that is our marker? I walk up that
trail and see that the street and houses are not familiar. Back to the high
sand to look for our flag again. So many flags now and all of them are so
similar. Oh no, still no sign of Mom and Dad and now I do not know how to get
back to the house where it is safe and familiar. I want my parents. I think I
am lost. As the realization of this fact settles in I start to cry and I stop
walking. I just stand in the high stand looking down at my feet and cry. A lot.
Then I look up at the beachfront house directly in front of me. An older woman
starts to walk down from her second floor porch. She is walking toward me now.
Should I be afraid? I don’t know. So I continue to cry. She asks me if I am
lost and I say yes. She says other things that I do not remember as I stand
there and cry and cry and cry. Then she says her son can help me look for our
beach rental. Alarm. A strange man? No, no, no and no again. I am uncertain
about this strange woman, but she looks kind and is older. I like older people
and standing here on this high sand immobile and crying is much preferred to
walking away with a strange man. Oh my goodness what have I done? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then up the beach, coming from the north from the direction
I had been walking I see the most comforting and blessed sight imaginable.
Mom!!! Mom walking toward me, quickly. Not running, walking and smiling. Not
angry. Not crying. Walking and beaming at me. I move toward her, running I
think, and land in her embrace immediately relieved and all fear melts away.
She has a happy relieved exchange with the woman and then we start to walk
together back to our house. I have no idea if she is talking to me, all I know
is that I am holding Mom’s hand and my world is safe again. Fear is gone and
today is going to be good. When we arrive at our rental, we start up the steps
together and then Mom turns around so I turn around too. There’s my Dad in the
distance, coming up the street! He sees me and starts to run and he is full on
crying. He scoops me up into his big arms and holds me tight at his chest still
crying. He carries me up the steps and we go into the house. My sister was much
relieved to see me and I remember all three of their faces having an odd
mixture of relief/happiness and stunned shock of some kind. Like, “Did that
really just happen?” No one yelled at me. Just lots of hugs. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All these years later I remember my Mom following my
footsteps knowing she would find me and I wonder what was going through her
mind that allowed her to greet me gently with a smile and a hug. No scolding or
fussing. No tears. Just her quiet confidence that she was there and I was safe.
It must have been Jesus. He led her to my steps and ultimately to me. He must
have whispered comfort to her and trust in Him that He would lead her to me. He
must have strengthened her to let go of fear and cling to Him as she searched
and believed all would be well. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His strength in her continues to speak to me today. At times
in whispers and other times with the roar of a mighty wave crashing in. We will
begin in home hospice care soon and this means that the natural course of her
natural life is predicted to be 6 months at the most. Yet I know that her
course is so much more supernatural. Her course has been His course. An
unpredictable wild ride that leaves us breathless at times. I want her Home
with Him more than I want her here with me. I want her supernatural footsteps
to follow His into eternity where they will be face to face. At home. Safe. No
fear. Only love. Forever found. </div>
Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-46285760902577061122020-02-08T12:10:00.003-05:002020-02-08T12:54:57.816-05:00Found in my Mom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAi7vOxzhAUXUzUUmk1NDnJkhfjGDRC817NS9UeO6hktwn4EI1HSfepfJOQfFWFoVhpjFSRgwCS9ZrvMEM6rg8cJqlKks8He9VnRtprUQIlXWmJDHMq5svyXVsok1h9MIUyQHtYlYhvho/s1600/Mom+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1242" data-original-width="1045" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAi7vOxzhAUXUzUUmk1NDnJkhfjGDRC817NS9UeO6hktwn4EI1HSfepfJOQfFWFoVhpjFSRgwCS9ZrvMEM6rg8cJqlKks8He9VnRtprUQIlXWmJDHMq5svyXVsok1h9MIUyQHtYlYhvho/s200/Mom+2.jpeg" width="168" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom 1967 (31 years old)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwuuqmca11Kte0OQ35nC5XwOKqphxK4RS8fzllUHXfXJMku0XZ9tEtq7Cw5eANhoQUOlJITn__QBRs4ZrrjJutpDjVP3AdE5Kl2pzIa5h7hkzTWERBNdkXN8y0YtkU96Z-q50KKl1v5ng/s1600/Mom.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1488" data-original-width="1554" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwuuqmca11Kte0OQ35nC5XwOKqphxK4RS8fzllUHXfXJMku0XZ9tEtq7Cw5eANhoQUOlJITn__QBRs4ZrrjJutpDjVP3AdE5Kl2pzIa5h7hkzTWERBNdkXN8y0YtkU96Z-q50KKl1v5ng/s200/Mom.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom 2018 (79 years old)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I look at these images of my mother with tears welling up in my eyes. And at the same time I feel a literal heart and soul swell. A flood really. Of love and memories and the deep knowing that my life is forever sweeter because she was, is and always will be my Mom.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now for those of you that know me, my mom has not gone home just yet. Her sweetness lives just one street over and I will kiss her cheek in just a little while. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That said, the time I have left with her on this side of life is short. It could be weeks or months. It could also be years. Doubtful that it will be many years. Regardless, my point is that time with her is more sacred now. Because I am reminded daily that her body is weakening and it will not take much for her body to give way to life eternal. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yet in this weakening I find that her soul is stronger than ever. And my own soul has more life and strength because of her. Because of her journey. Because of her faith. Because of the belief she instilled in me that with God all things are possible. Because of the perseverance she displayed as a working Mom during a time when moms stayed home. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That last one is a part of her journey, my journey, and our journey together that I am just now understanding the beauty of. You see, she has long thought that she missed the mark on motherhood by working full time. And for a while I also believed that lie. The convergence of those lies impacted our mother daughter journey for a time. But no more of that. This is the time for truth telling. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I ask you, humbly, and prayerfully if you would join me in this part of our journey? Would you walk with me in the days and weeks ahead as I tell you about my Mom? I promise to be honest and kind. I promise to be vulnerable and tell you the hard stuff. And I promise to share the truths that God has whispered to me over the years. He finds me every day and whispers His love and truth to me. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In Him I have been found. That is why I started this blog eight years ago. The beauty of being found must be shared. And in this season I am also found in my mother's love. For she is one who first pointed me to Him. </div>
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Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-78906843239095783072016-09-08T21:17:00.000-04:002020-02-08T11:01:59.755-05:00Faith: Found in His Faithfulness<i>Faith</i>. A belief that there is a God, He loves me, His Son is Jesus and He died for me, and now the Holy Spirit lives in me. Yes, that is what I've thought <i>faith</i> was for oh, let's say my entire Christian life. Twenty-threeish years.<br />
<br />
While that may be a part of <i>faith,</i> it is certainly does not encompass all that such a small, yet enormously powerful word means. I'm learning that <i>faith </i>in my life is trusting God, His Son, the Holy Spirit, this triune person... implicitly.<br />
<br />
It's one thing to believe in the existence of God. It is entirely another to trust Him with every ounce of your being and make yourself vulnerable to the wild ride that is real <i>faith</i>.<br />
<br />
Have you read the hall of fame of <i>faith </i>in Hebrews 11 in a while? It starts out with the definition of <i>faith</i>: "being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." I hope for heaven and I'm certain that I will live there eternally one day. I don't struggle with doubts about death and life beyond with Jesus. In fact, some days I long for Him to return so that I can throw off the struggles of this earthly <i>faith </i>walk.<br />
<br />
But what about hope and certainty in this life? What does <i>faith </i>really look like in a fallen world where the enemy of our soul runs rampant? Most of us will not experience an impending flood and massive ark construction. It is highly unlikely that God will repeat the Abraham Isaac test. But there are impending "floods" we've been called to prepare for and seemingly impossible choices and "tests" that are before all of us at one point or another.<br />
<br />
The question is, will our <i>faith</i> be real? Will we be absolutely certain of what we do not see? At the moment, I can't see God's promise that I will come through on the other side of my currently splintered life and ridiculous circumstances. But I know that He's promised me I will. There's hardly even a glimpse of redemption right now, but His promise is still true.<br />
<br />
"He does not change like shifting shadows" (James 1:17). God doesn't change His mind and put us on an emotional roller coaster. We get on that ride ourselves by listening to every vacillating emotional tide that comes our way.<br />
<br />
How do I get to know this unchanging Person? He is known through His Word. And if He does not change, then His Word does not change and this living text can also be trusted. His word says that "The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it" (1 Thessalonians 5:24) and "For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations." (Psalm 100:5)<br />
<br />
Those are just a few verses regarding <i>His faithfulness </i>toward us. So even when my faith is lacking, seems weak, or non-existent... He. Is. Faithful. How amazing is that? It floors me that I am loved by a God who does not leave me when I am at my lowest point. He is not exhausted by days of rock solid<i> faith </i>followed by weeks of despair and doubt. His faithfulness toward me is steady and strong and relentless.<br />
<br />
He is the bridegroom that will never give up on me. He will never abandon me. My weakest moments do not scare Him. Instead, these moments make His love and faithfulness toward me even more evident. I know He is near. I know He carries me. He hurts when I hurt and <span class="text Isa-30-18" id="en-NIV-18236"><span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">"</span>longs to be gracious to me and show me compassion" (Isaiah 30:18). I cannot do anything that will bring about rejection. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Isa-30-18" id="en-NIV-18236">So the God of the universe, who could have anything, chooses to pursue me and be faithful to me despite all my doubts and fears and failures. He is faithful. He leaves the ninety-nine to find the one. And though I've been a believer and "found" for over twenty-three years, He continues to seek me out and find me daily. He finds me because of His faithfulness and He calls me to trust Him. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Isa-30-18" id="en-NIV-18236">To have <i>faith</i>. </span><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"></span></span>Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-10031643961291416922014-04-24T21:51:00.003-04:002014-04-24T21:51:50.271-04:00DistractionI have always considered myself a very focused person. I made good grades, I finished things I started - mostly. There is still 4 rows of knitting that were supposed to become a toboggan 14 years ago. Can't seem to unravel it. And there's my point... I'm really not all that good at focusing.<br />
<br />
So many glorious things have happened in this past year. But I lost focus on Him yet again. He has redeemed, renewed, restored, rebuilt, re-everythinged my life. And still I am Doug from "Up" chasing the squirrels of this world.<br />
<br />
I'm am so easily distracted. Oh my word, so easily distracted. But I don't think it's because I have diagnosable attention issues. At least not according to the DSM-V.<br />
<br />
No, I'm distracted because I take my eyes off Jesus.<br />
<br />
In the post that preceded this I used a verse from Hebrews 12 - "let us fix our eyes on Jesus..."<br />
Please note that the previous post is now over a year old. Could it be that I got a bit distracted again? Um, yes.<br />
<br />
Until the past two weeks. It started on another Palm Sunday.<br />
<br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-345101129301992932013-03-24T10:13:00.003-04:002013-03-24T10:13:46.962-04:00Who is this you are making me?It is a quiet rainy Sunday morning - Palm Sunday. This is the week before the world could finally be reconciled to it's Creator through the perfect sacrifice of Christ. It is a time of great reflection.<br />
<br />
Reflection has been the theme of the past nine months of my life. In late July of last year everything that I thought was secure began to fall apart. Looking back, the crumbling began years before. But I couldn't see it. I was blind. I lived in fear. The most deceptive kind of fear. The fear that if I didn't do life on my own, my way, and in my timing that I would be a complete failure.<br />
<br />
I was a hamster on a wheel. Spinning spinning spinning, going no where, and wearing myself out in the process. The irony is that all of this self-fueled effort was the real failure.<br />
<br />
The wheel came to a screeching halt last summer. God did not intend for me to live the life of a hamster on a wheel, in a cage. He intended me to live a life of beautiful freedom in Him.<br />
<br />
I had ignored His still small voice for too long. So He did what any good parent does. He loved me enough to let me fall. He knew that I would not listen until every false source of security was ripped away.<br />
<br />
He literally threw me off the wheel, out of the cage I had built, and into the big scary world. The false sense of security I had developed over the course of many years quickly revealed itself as well.... false.<br />
<br />
Much of my reflection in the months since has been a sorting out of what is false and what is true. The Truth versus the lies. I want to share more of that in the days and weeks to come and I think I might be ready to do just that. I've started to do that a few times on this blog, but I've never shared the full story.<br />
<br />
That's a little scary. But not nearly as scary as living like a hamster in a cage.<br />
<br />
Now that we've established that I'm not a hamster - yeah. Who is this He is making me to be? That's a question that Beth Moore asked during her Simulcast on September 15, 2012. There were 7 points within that talk. The one that has me in reflection today is number 6:<br />
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"Faith rests its case on the resurrection of the dead." </div>
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Yes it does.<br />
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"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of throne of God." </div>
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Hebrews 12:2</div>
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That verse has run through my mind more often that I could dare to count during these months. Through His resurrection I too am resurrected. I have real life because of Him. No more hamster on a wheel. It's a life of daring adventure and excitement around every corner. It's freedom.<br />
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Life is actually not complicated when we truly "fix our eyes." It gets complicated when we focus on anything else. Not only does it get complicated, it gets constricted because our own worries and fears create boundless limits to what we think can happen.<br />
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Beth Moore's follow-up to point 6:<br />
<br />
"All bets are off... He can do anything."<br />
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And oh my word... the <i>anything </i>has left me breathless lately. What took years to nearly destroy, God has redeemed and restored in nine short months. I want to share more of that with you and I pray for the courage to do so.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaI0D_uLHpv_rbtMt66DIHCUAKRwLA47JyPM8ZP6IIqhqMWJnk6qg4ll1hC7xUwu9nZBNmG3a0MyM83ERdkkVuPB9JkJtX5tHow1otDjRjfNNH2HKk4LFzJHQEtM5Z-NJDQ2eeL6p_c0/s1600/IMG_3854.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaI0D_uLHpv_rbtMt66DIHCUAKRwLA47JyPM8ZP6IIqhqMWJnk6qg4ll1hC7xUwu9nZBNmG3a0MyM83ERdkkVuPB9JkJtX5tHow1otDjRjfNNH2HKk4LFzJHQEtM5Z-NJDQ2eeL6p_c0/s320/IMG_3854.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I hope you too have had time to be quiet and reflect on this Sunday.Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-82076120173803347192012-11-08T15:12:00.002-05:002012-11-08T15:12:41.333-05:00TransitionI have been unemployed for a little over two months. Please don't lament for me, this was my choice. I'll admit, I have questioned my decision at times, but for the majority of the past 9ish weeks I have been quite content to break away from a high pressure full-time job.<br />
<br />
Now, I'm supposed to be writing feverishly on my dissertation during this time. I'm getting there.<br />
<br />
What I did not realize (and have never realized for that matter) is that major life changes don't often lend themselves well to jumping from one high pressure situation into another. There is a very real, very tangible, very necessary place for <i>transition</i>.<br />
<br />
Hmm... that's actually the focus of my dissertation. Students with disabilities who are in transition from school to work. That's funny, I had not intention of that coming out or connecting when I started this blog post. The first title was going to be "Rediscovering and Redefining" and then that sentence came out. That's how He works though. Love Him.<br />
<br />
So I'm in transition. I'm healing. I'm sipping my coffee a little longer and reading the local newspaper each morning. I have the time to make a shopping list based on the 3 sale papers of grocery stores I like. I'm meeting friends for lunch. I'm listening more. I could go on and on and on.....<br />
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And I will, tomorrow.<br />
<br />
But right now I am leaving the public library because a sweet neighbor friend of my parents just walked in and as we chatted it turns out she needs to go to the same grocery store I do. And on a recent trip to Memphis she picked up something she'd like to give them and I'm going to journey with her.<br />
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<br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-8842782790680388102012-10-31T16:51:00.004-04:002020-02-16T18:34:32.836-05:00Day 31: Found at the Cemetery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I know, it's not exactly a catchy or cute title for today's post. But hey, it's Halloween so maybe it is mildly appropriate. </div>
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I went by another cemetery today. I took my dad a few weeks ago so that we could leave flowers at his parents' and grandparents' (my grandparents' and great grandparents') graves. This is not something that we do often - or really at all. But in my recent return home I have the overwhelming urge to learn about and from my past.</div>
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Here's a picture of my great grandparents:</div>
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<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuK1BHmR0rpHqLsrRjyTI0kuCU3wtlXp4mbCwG2lJeEOD2Y1YsEbqnc4POvht4DKCPaX3XP9O3walfdrAQW7VvRO_8BireVn2H-TEkFn1I8WTgdvRO6MrQ35Al7g4KYLrrZ0Yy-nqdPHM/s1600/IMG_3441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuK1BHmR0rpHqLsrRjyTI0kuCU3wtlXp4mbCwG2lJeEOD2Y1YsEbqnc4POvht4DKCPaX3XP9O3walfdrAQW7VvRO_8BireVn2H-TEkFn1I8WTgdvRO6MrQ35Al7g4KYLrrZ0Yy-nqdPHM/s320/IMG_3441.JPG" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
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Daisy & Horace<br />
c. 1906</td></tr>
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Horace rode across the mountain from Tennessee into North Carolina on a horse for like 20ish miles just to court Daisy. Can you imagine?<br />
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And here is their fourth child, my grandmother.<br />
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<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgil6h2FTZF2QsCtfe7VSv_60tHYq2q5nRR_IodBebHT2trtgKf7WeumOdmej4uAos4yaapjQP7JSWE6hHCpCPLHWZZGUZRBKPo3yzpq1vldUM6LZXSrpFqHu337PIgzLqV600wjcp9lCk/s1600/IMG_3449.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgil6h2FTZF2QsCtfe7VSv_60tHYq2q5nRR_IodBebHT2trtgKf7WeumOdmej4uAos4yaapjQP7JSWE6hHCpCPLHWZZGUZRBKPo3yzpq1vldUM6LZXSrpFqHu337PIgzLqV600wjcp9lCk/s320/IMG_3449.JPG" width="312" /></a></td></tr>
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<br />
Merill<br />
c. 1938</td></tr>
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She was 28 in this picture and already had four children of her own. She drove her entire life without ever obtaining a license. At some point in the late 70s or early 80s she was pulled over and cited by a city policeman, but she still did not get her license. </div>
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And here is a picture of her parents, Horace and Daisy, in their later years. Many many many exciting, strange, scary, miraculous, sad, joyous, and lovely things happened between that picture from 1906 and this picture in 1965. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPeW7nC1cZSZbcz5CsQ1i1b_UpU-75DSxIr41C6xcqn2JhB9pPMDBes6ZcNZamtxJQ6xQXclutj8mIZYWtJTIPc-oL_4ty9dGDSyUurri31TCFFNILcLGPfV43cPNgBcyUNcm5pwiAGKw/s1600/IMG_3452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPeW7nC1cZSZbcz5CsQ1i1b_UpU-75DSxIr41C6xcqn2JhB9pPMDBes6ZcNZamtxJQ6xQXclutj8mIZYWtJTIPc-oL_4ty9dGDSyUurri31TCFFNILcLGPfV43cPNgBcyUNcm5pwiAGKw/s320/IMG_3452.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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Horace & Daisy<br />
c. 1965</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_134665070"></span>I hope I can write about these things some day. Growing up I heard many hilarious stories about these family members. After all, when folks are gone we want to retell the joyous and the funny things right? Nothing wrong with that. There's a host of things about this side of my family that I want to cement into my memory and into the traditions I create with my family.<br />
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But there's more to a person's life than the happy. There's the sad. There's the generational behaviors or tendencies (and sometimes sin) that happened too. There's the stuff that if left unmentioned and ignored may be repeated for generations to come. I don't intend to go on some gossip finding mission or anything - not at all. But in listening to stories and events I have started to "hear" things differently and wonder.<br />
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And when I look at myself, my family, and my decisions I can't help noticing some striking similarities. Some make me laugh. Others make me cry.<br />
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Today when I removed the dead flowers I stared at my maiden name on my grandparents grave. How do I want my family's name to be remembered? What part of "us" do I want to live on and what part of "us" must die in order that He might live? I guess I can't ask those questions in the plural. I can't decide what other family members will do with our heritage.<br />
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But I can make that choice myself. Hmm... wrong again. I'd rather He make those choices, whisper them to my heart, and then I obey.<br />
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More to come...Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-32300745641772106992012-10-30T16:38:00.000-04:002012-10-30T16:38:14.551-04:00Days 27, 28, 29 and 30: Found in the Small I have the general feeling of being small lately. I can't say that I welcomed this feeling. By "small" I do not mean anything regarding an actual or tangible size to anything. I just mean the opposite of the generally large/overwhelming/often-times all-consuming things of this life.<br />
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I used to have a "big" job. I frantically worked to establish and improve my image in my field. I made presentations, dressed older than my age, and wrote about survey results and such. And I talked about it a lot.<br />
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Now I have no job. Doesn't get much smaller than "none." In fact, I've been turned down for every job that I have applied for in 10 months. Makes me feel quite small.<br />
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I can no longer end my days looking back on the previous 8 to 10 hours patting myself on the back for a great presentation, a finished report, or kudos from my employer or coworkers. While none of those are bad things in and of themselves I now realize how much I depended on my "big" job to define me.<br />
I'm actually more joyful and peaceful in my current unemployment than I ever was in my job.<br />
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And it's not just the lack of a job that makes me feel small. I also do not live in my own house. Instead, I reside in a small guest room at my aunt's house. The clothes I brought take up one side of a small closet and three dresser drawers. Seriously - that's it. My schedule (or lack of) also makes me feel small. I literally spent about 10 minutes this morning putting "library" into the next 6 weeks of my calendar so that it would say something.<br />
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All this smallness has left me a lot of time to pray and listen. I purposely did not say "think." Inordinate amounts of time "thinking" out of my own devices (aka "my flesh") never go well for me. No... that's actually speaks more to the largeness of myself and my ideas. And we're talking about being small today. So I'm learning to embrace this "more of Him, less of me" way of life.<br />
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And that makes me feel small in a very cool way.<br />
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<br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-36284690505745307412012-10-26T16:36:00.002-04:002012-10-26T16:36:39.857-04:00Day 26: Found in FishI was going to title this one "Found in Salmon Patties" - but I just couldn't. However, there ya go, it's the first line.<br />
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Two days ago I made salmon patties in an effort to use what was available in the pantry instead of buying new groceries. I truly love these fishy things. Apparently they were a staple if you grew up in the 1940s, 50s, and 60s. I did not grow up then, but my parents are older and as such I grew up taking part in older traditions.<br />
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It had been a very very long time since I had made these so I followed a recipe. I then had the bright idea to share my leftovers with a family member. This person loves these fishy treats as well. So when I called to thank this person for the food items they left in exchange (their idea not mine), I was surprised to discover that a compliment and rave reviews were not in order. Nope. What did I get?<br />
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Person: "What did you think of them? Did you like them?"<br />
Me: "Yes."<br />
Person: "Did you think they tasted like your mom's?"<br />
Me: "Um... I actually liked mine a lot. I've not had my mom's in like 10 plus years. I don't know. I'm sure hers were better. Most things she makes are."<br />
Person: "Yeah, I thought so. Can I offer you some suggestions should you make them again?"<br />
Me: "Sure."<br />
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Really? Why do some people only offer up a healthy dose of criticism at every possible opportunity? I was trying to do something nice. I've actually avoided this person a lot lately for this very reason. Then the minute I go out on a limb and try... that's what I get.<br />
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And then to myself I say "Really? You're going to let salmon patty criticism ruin your evening? Really? Are you <i>that</i> insecure?"<br />
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Yes, yes I am. There are moments when my flesh is that weak.<br />
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And then I laughed a lot. At the entire situation.<br />
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And then my husband showed up the next night as I was just finishing up the last salmon patty leftover. Another "Really?" We're trying to mend things and the night he shows up I'm parked in front of the television with a TV tray smelling of canned fish. Really I say?"<br />
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And then I laughed a lot - again.<br />
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Thank you for finding me in fish Jesus.Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-80937885120987749982012-10-25T18:11:00.001-04:002012-10-25T18:16:46.114-04:00Days 23, 24, and 25: Found in No SurprisesDuring these months, weeks, days, and minutes of being found I keep being reminded of something a dear person prayed over me:<br />
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"Jesus, this is not a surprise to you."</div>
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Truly, there are absolutely no surprises for Him. None. </div>
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The possible "perfect storm" brewing out in the Atlantic - He sees it coming. He already knows the outcome. The exact path. Every molecule of seawater that it will move. </div>
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The "perfect storms" of relationships, illness, and loss - He also sees those coming. And He already knows the outcome. The exact path we will take. Every tear we will cry. Every word we will yell. Every cancer cell and healthy cell that chemo will destroy. Every relationship that it will alter. </div>
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These storms often do not meet our expectations of fairness. My human mind cannot reason its way through to understanding the purpose of it all. Asking <i>why</i> and wondering <i>to what end </i>is a normal default. It's how our human minds are trained.</div>
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I'm a little over being "normal" by human standards though. Normal has not served me well. Normal reasons, figures out, blames, wallows, turns inward, and becomes a victim. Normal is exhausting.</div>
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Instead, I'm craving the <i>foolish </i>default setting. The wisdom of heaven is often seen as foolishness in the eyes of this world. Such foolishness trusts, walks it out, commends, praises, reaches out, and becomes a victor. Foolishness is exhilarating. </div>
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Now please understand, I am by no means an expert on embracing the foolish and forsaking the normal. No, I'm just learning these lessons. And I will continue to learn them for the rest of this earthly life. But in the moments of clarity when I listen long enough to hear Him whisper, "I'm not surprised by this" I have found the sweetest rest. Instead of dwelling on the circumstance He has reminded me of His indwelling Spirit. And where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. </div>
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Where is the Spirit of the Lord? In me.</div>
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What else is found in that place? Freedom.</div>
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So I can live in freedom. </div>
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Freedom.</div>
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Freedom from fear, blame, doubt, depression, apathy, rage, malice, and on and on and on and on. </div>
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No matter what storms swirl around me, these things <i>cannot</i> hold me captive. They will not conquer me. I am more than a conquerer. </div>
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He has marked out the race already. No twists, turns, rain, sunshine, valleys, Alp like climbs, speed bumps, or even face plants on the pavement will shock Him. </div>
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And because He <i>is in </i>me... they don't have to shock me either. </div>
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Again, this is a new way of thinking and behaving for me. As I type it I fully expect to trip on my walk back to my car and literally face plant in the parking lot.</div>
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But... what if this kind of thinking became our default setting? Can you imagine?</div>
Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-67196151371333706252012-10-22T19:28:00.000-04:002012-10-22T19:28:03.035-04:00Days 20, 21, and 22: Found in FamilyI have spent this past long weekend soaking up some much needed time with my family.<br />
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My aunts and uncles are in their late 70s and early 80s. Most of my first cousins are in their 50s or older. I have always loved being in this kind of older family dynamic. They take time with each other. They tell stories - really well. The same stories actually. And I always laugh hysterically even though I know what is coming next. They simply never get old.<br />
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We love to play cards. Variations of gin and canasta I suppose. Our favorite for the past several years has been Hand and Foot. While I've been living away for the past 3 years they started playing this game with partners. I discovered a few weeks ago that they always sit in the same spots around the dining room table at my aunt's house. Six players - always.<br />
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My uncle passed this summer. So when I moved back home I took his place.<br />
"Took his place." Doesn't sound or seem right.<br />
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So now I'm partners with my Aunt Ann for Hand and Foot. She's quite the card player. This past weekend though my aunt had a church event the night we played cards. So, my cousin who was visiting took her place. My uncle was her father. So she sat in his place. And I sat in my aunt's place at the head of the table.<br />
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I voiced that I was not comfortable with taking her seat. You see my aunt is quite a force. And I mean that as a compliment. She commands a room in an amazingly strong, yet soft and feminine way. There's no "taking her place."She should be pictured next to "hostess" in Webster's.<br />
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We still had a truly lovely evening though. The card game was a hoot though my cousin and I started a game with negative 2,000ish points after one hand. Ha! We ate, shared stories, teased, and reminisced.<br />
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Being around them awakens something powerful within me. I'm sure you've experienced the same with your families. I wonder what pieces of them I will carry with me when they are gone. Will my children enjoy being around their aunts and uncles this much as they grow up? I sure hope so.<br />
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<br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-89466228408545075632012-10-19T17:52:00.001-04:002012-10-19T17:52:48.125-04:00Day 19: Found in UnemploymentWell, I interviewed for a job about a month ago and learned today that someone else was selected. I got that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I really thought I had it. The panel seemed to like me and I liked them. My references were called and they all told me that their conversations with the hiring manager were just spectacular. I still knew it was not a done deal. But I sure did have my hopes up.<br />
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I shed a few tears. But honestly... I felt peace about 15 or 20 minutes after the initial shock. Truly, I did.<br />
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He has a different plan for me. It's still unfolding. Whatever He has marked out for me is spectacular. And the rest of this afternoon was just that.<br />
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I took my niece to see my friend. My friend dressed her sweet dog in a Halloween t-shirt and we laughed a lot. We went to the Farmer's Market to buy apple cider and look at crafts. Then my husband asked me to meet him at work briefly. He was so kind and understanding about how I felt. He experienced the same "let down" a year or so ago. Again, there was a much better plan for him. It's nice to have those rare moments in life when you or someone else truly "get it" when you feel a certain way. It was comforting.<br />
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And now I'm off to make chicken chili for an all afternoon-all evening family card playing event tomorrow. The chili will be better if it sits for a while.<br />
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As will my future....Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-84060806076423234972012-10-18T20:13:00.002-04:002012-10-18T20:13:43.803-04:00Day Eighteen: Found in Faith <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">I spent most of the day riding around a very rural
and draw-droppingly beautiful county near where I grew up. My dad has been
wanting to visit an old family cemetery. He attended decoration, dinner, and
singing-on-the-grounds every since he could remember up until some time in the
1980s when the older family members had all passed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">It was a lovely trip listening to family stories
and connecting to my heritage. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Before we left this morning I was feeling rather squirrely about my life
and thankfully God led me to Hebrews 11 and 12. Talk about connecting to my heritage.
Thank you Lord for the heritage of faith that still lives in these pages of
your Word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">It all spoke to me, but here’s what ended up scribbled hurriedly in my
journal (like the Word was going anywhere) - oh, and the italics are of course
my emphasis though in my journal they are in bold, sometimes underlined, occasionally
boxed in and starred like a cinema sign:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">“Abraham <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">went </i>to the land of
his inheritance though he did <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not</i> know
where he was going…made his home like a stranger in the promised land”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">“they welcomed the promises from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">a
distance</i>”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">“Moses <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">chose</i> to be mistreated”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">“regarded disgrace for the sake of Christ as of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">greater </i>value”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">“He left Egypt, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not </i>fearing”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">“he persevered because he saw <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">him
who was invisible</i>”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">“whose weakness was turned to strength”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">“run with perseverance the race <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">marked
out</i> for us”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">“let us <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fix </i>our eyes on Jesus,
the author and perfecter of our…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">FAITH<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">So this cemetery was beautiful and there is host of my family’s heritage
there. I’m already establishing my own story in that heritage and the one in
His Word. They are the same. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">He called me home though I was not sure what I would find.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">He whispered His promises to me and I welcomed them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">I’ve been mistreated along the way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Many days I have regarded the disgrace of my circumstances of greater
value. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">I was fearless when I left. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">I have persevered because I have seen Him who is invisible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">My weaknesses are becoming strengths because that’s what He does.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">My race has already been marked out for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">My eyes are fixed on Jesus. Yes they are in this moment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">And in the moments when they are not, He lovingly lifts my head again.
Because He is the author and the perfecter of MY…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">FAITH<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-4692650018257037272012-10-17T16:11:00.003-04:002012-10-17T16:11:59.976-04:00Day Seventeen: Found in Being Still (my version at least)So there are no posts for Days 13, 14, 15, and 16.<br />
Oh well. <br />
<br />
Reasons:<br />
<ul>
<li>did not make the effort to go to a Wifi location</li>
<li>day 13 felt ominous for writing, I know silly superstitious non-sense</li>
<li>day 13: went to a one-year-old's party that day actually, quite fun, full of happy young couples with cute babies though - yep, made me sad; drove home from the party crying on and off wondering when it would be "my turn" - yep, hate to admit it, but true</li>
<li>day 14: had to let my emotions surface that day; I've kept myself "together" quite well in recent weeks (months really), but the floodgates opened, not "ugly" tears though, just needed to feel and let God hold me; also watched <em>The Sandlot </em>that day - fun, fun</li>
<li>day 15: drove most of the day, lots of good time to think; yeah for day 14's events b/c this day was renewed energy and joy and sweet time in the car with my tunes</li>
<li>day 16: reacclimating to my guest room life with my 82 year old aunt - I say that will all the love and excitement in the world for this season, truly, very fun</li>
</ul>
Biggest reason:<br />
<ul>
<li>I didn't want to and it felt nice to "fail" at the 31 Days and not beat myself up about it. It is what it is.</li>
</ul>
What I've learned from this:<br />
<ul>
<li>Psalm 46:10 is an awesome verse. Love love love it. "Be still and know that I am God."</li>
<li>My "being still" looks like no one else's. I'm uniquely designed in absolutely every facet of my being. He knows that. I need to know that. I'm rather outgoing and outspoken. I'm also filled to the brim: full of emotion, full of energy, full of optimism, full of wonder, full of questions, full hope. So at times He wants me to dial it back a bit. Not because any of those things are bad, no no. I just need to "still" myself a bit. Dial back the outgoing and embrace a bit of introversion. Dial back the outspoken and speak a tad less. Dial back the emotion and simply live in the Truth, no matter how I "feel." Even in happiness - that emotion does not define me. Dial back the energy - hence me only leaving my house for about 30 minutes on Day 14. Dial back the optimism. I know that seems odd. But sometimes I just need to be sad and be ok with that. Dial back the wonder. I've stared in wonder at the Monarch's for ridiculous periods of time recently. Nothing wrong with that. But there are times when I also need to do the mundane like vacuuming up the cat hair. He's in that too. Dial back the questions - yes, that's a good one. Walk it out, that's what I said, right? Dial back the hope...hmm... seems like a strange thing to say. But I mean dial back the hope in my own flesh. Dial back the hope in circumstances and dial up the hope in Him. Be still and know. </li>
</ul>
What does your "being still" look like?Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-8134059833590378622012-10-12T23:30:00.001-04:002012-10-12T23:30:06.681-04:00Day Twelve: Found in Family-FriendsIt has been an odd week. I have literally and figuratively revisited places that have been the source of much hurt. However, the Lord has been faithful (as always) and has truly walked it out with me. He has been brave within me when I wanted to run and hide. He has shifted hearts and circumstances in ways only He can.<br />
<br />
Yet at the end of this week I felt very tired and I allowed the weight of all that I have faced start to weigh me down. I forgot about his perfectly crafted yoke for a while. Instead I put on the cheaper one-size-fits-all kind that the world designed. It was not easy. It was not light. It hurt. <br />
<br />
It weighed me down with regret and shame. Thank you Lord that I only did this for a few hours. While driving.<br />
<br />
Then I finally arrived at my friend's house and her in-laws were also visiting. I had never met these lovely folks before. We spent the evening cooking out, playing with my friend's little girl, telling deep South stories full of color and humor. These people are real.<br />
<br />
And they ask real questions.<br />
<br />
Where are your people from?<br />
Where are you living now?<br />
What size town did you grow up in?<br />
Now what does your husband do?<br />
When are y'all planning on having some babies?<br />
<br />
Thank you Jesus that you have brought me to a place where I can answer these questions honestly and without hesitation.<br />
<br />
I may not have all the answers to those questions that I would like to have at the moment. But You've let me know that the current answers are just fine. Because you continue to work out the final answers.<br />
<br />
<br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-74373863332704085262012-10-11T16:34:00.001-04:002012-10-11T16:40:01.397-04:00Day 11: Found in the BittersweetYesterday I talked about being <a href="http://foundonafriday.blogspot.com/2012/10/day-ten-found-in-paradox.html" target="_blank">found in a paradox</a>.<br />
<br />
Today I'm thinking about my best friend whose precious daughter is one year old - today.<br />
And how this morning her husband rushed their dog to the vet to discover he had to be put to sleep.<br />
<br />
Happy 1st Birthday! You lost your first family pet.<br />
<br />
I cursed when she told me. Yes I did. It was the only thing I could think to say.<br />
<br />
So of course I'm thinking about other bittersweet moments in life.<br />
I'm also thinking about other paradoxes.<br />
<br />
Death and life<br />
First and last<br />
Loss and gain<br />
<a href="http://blog.lproof.org/2012/09/as-promised-the-great-forsake-and-take.html" target="_blank">Forsaking and taking</a><br />
Beauty from ashes<br />
Strength from despair<br />
Gladness from mourning<br />
A way in the desert<br />
Streams in the wasteland<br />
<br />
I still trust that in Him all things hold together.<br />
<br />
As my friend said, "it's still going to be a great day." So happy first birthday sweet girl. I pray your life is full of more sweet than bitter. But I know that difficulties will come, they will. So I pray too that you always find your way back to beauty.<br />
<br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-78112275827711065462012-10-10T17:58:00.001-04:002012-10-10T17:58:51.829-04:00Day Ten: Found in a ParadoxI had a meeting today that is going to change the course of some things.<br />
<br />
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As I continue to be <i>found</i>, sorting out the truth from the lie has become a pass time. Not exactly fun, but a necessary endeavor for sure. </div>
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Much of what I accepted as truth has been flipped on its head in recent weeks. By extension, some individuals that I once trusted to speak truth have also done a sort of a flip (literally and figuratively).</div>
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<br /></div>
There's truth and then there's the Truth. As I draw closer to Jesus I draw closer to Truth. Because He <i>is </i>Truth.<br />
<br />
And Truth sheds light on everything. What was once falsely deemed "darkness" and a "lie" is actually the truth. In turn, much of what I thought was the "light" was a facade, a great masquerade.<br />
<br />
My meeting lasted for nearly three and a half hours. Good stuff. Very productive.<br />
<br />
Here's how we greeted one another:<br />
<br />
me: "Hey!!!"<br />
person: "Hi there!"<br />
(me and person exchange a brief hug)<br />
person: "Welcome to the dark side (smiling)."<br />
me: "Sorry it took me so long to see the light."<br />
<br />
<br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-73884711035745913492012-10-09T18:30:00.004-04:002012-10-09T18:35:24.780-04:00Day Nine: Found in the Monarchs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is a female Monarch butterfly. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJr4LN8MbEi_d5c5FCLvIr3soDJR2rBUsO6Zldm08j1_15D_2K_7pBGhNdjnOGLD0U96Bcipos8nQSSpbr7KNy70w1U53-ITT_KUWIcEIgeByDRyVahUb8zwqz9eY30rESPfHB-qiIAQ/s1600/IMG_3635.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJr4LN8MbEi_d5c5FCLvIr3soDJR2rBUsO6Zldm08j1_15D_2K_7pBGhNdjnOGLD0U96Bcipos8nQSSpbr7KNy70w1U53-ITT_KUWIcEIgeByDRyVahUb8zwqz9eY30rESPfHB-qiIAQ/s320/IMG_3635.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I had to park a long long way from my destination today. So very glad, because my long walk led me by a garden I usually ignore. Not today. Nope, I'm loving this "eyes wide open" state of being lately.</div>
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I had the recent privilege of attending a seminar on the Monarch migration. Yesterday I talked about miracles. This yearly migration is most definitely a miracle.</div>
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She's feeding on a butterfly bush because she desperately needs nectar to give her energy for the rest of her trip to Mexico (the Sierra Madre to be exact).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uh_lsUyTvruY220Kmd1fVQtRn5PgJFDIvXnpJhFlYZg_ovBGd6_H4CiPh1HvXlY6HKED66e_KD9VNoEGxQDIPNvTybrBOP_IaiJwgGBpwdF86Pbnva0RPpslqW6pwNkrgQPGcnGwDoo/s1600/IMG_3643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uh_lsUyTvruY220Kmd1fVQtRn5PgJFDIvXnpJhFlYZg_ovBGd6_H4CiPh1HvXlY6HKED66e_KD9VNoEGxQDIPNvTybrBOP_IaiJwgGBpwdF86Pbnva0RPpslqW6pwNkrgQPGcnGwDoo/s320/IMG_3643.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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When she arrives there she will "overwinter" until next Spring. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF_9kkl5M1x5XkROYvwURDhcht5RD0MM5St5zlTib_F5AFkFbJohc7ETynTRG9Ey9zt6XnTDvWourJ8zzQcMCeWsmXzkgXSF3IxbndJXvVPURXWkimQAtQzWmM8TnYuKpFer71x5HZKtU/s1600/IMG_3633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF_9kkl5M1x5XkROYvwURDhcht5RD0MM5St5zlTib_F5AFkFbJohc7ETynTRG9Ey9zt6XnTDvWourJ8zzQcMCeWsmXzkgXSF3IxbndJXvVPURXWkimQAtQzWmM8TnYuKpFer71x5HZKtU/s320/IMG_3633.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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She could have started her long journey from as far away as Canada. Seriously.</div>
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Instinct tells her to fly South. She has no clue if she will find enough nectar flowers along the way. </div>
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She simply flies on faith. Ok, so it's instinct. But go with me here on the faith thing. </div>
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She just goes. She trusts. She flies and finds what she needs along the way. Not what she wants, what she needs. It's her version of <i><a href="http://foundonafriday.blogspot.com/2012/10/31-days-of-being-found-day-one.html" target="_blank">walking it out</a></i></div>
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Gazing at her brings to mind such courage. She will literally eat nothing once she gets to Mexico. It's ok because the temperature in the Sierra Madre is so cool that it will not use her energy stores much at all. She will rest when she gets there.</div>
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She's not the only one who made the journey of course. </div>
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<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6drRDcPtFMQMUyLNIEELxkmIPb2MswAE0VJogZPs4lTGjT-iy1vJo5Z43xyOMc62-pyr7gyMzCq3b0E2hZbux8Xwvi8NDewISG5uHxPeonE3rTuqMlR6-xUyIT4dJJoZmsFhcdsHKMI/s1600/monarchs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6drRDcPtFMQMUyLNIEELxkmIPb2MswAE0VJogZPs4lTGjT-iy1vJo5Z43xyOMc62-pyr7gyMzCq3b0E2hZbux8Xwvi8NDewISG5uHxPeonE3rTuqMlR6-xUyIT4dJJoZmsFhcdsHKMI/s1600/monarchs.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">thank you Google images</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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At some point next Spring instinct (aka <i>faith</i>) will urge her again to take flight. She's ready for her next adventure. She will fly as far as she can go and lay her eggs. She will bring new life into the world. She will leave her own legacy.<br />
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And somehow, her great-great-grandchildren will find their way back to Mexico again. Seriously, it takes a generation. Scientists first discovered there migration pattern and destination in the 1970s. <a href="http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/1976/08/monarch-butterflies/urquhart-text" target="_blank">National Geographic first published the amazing discovery in 1976.</a> Here's the greatest part....<br />
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They still have no idea how future generations continue to find their way!<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">"Another unsolved mystery is how Monarchs find the overwintering sites each year. Somehow they know their way, even though the butterflies returning to Mexico or California each fall are the great-great-grandchildren of the butterflies that left the previous spring. No one knows exactly how their homing system works; it is another of the many unanswered questions in the butterfly world." </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">f</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">rom www.monarchwatch.org</span></div>
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When I notice these Monarchs now I can't help but stare at their beauty. It's not just their amazing colors. It's their entire story. Every last detail is stunning.<br />
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She takes my breath away.<br />
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Our stories were meant to be this way too.<br />
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Full of faith, no room for fear.<br />
Taking in exactly what we need along the way.<br />
Resting at times, readying ourselves for the next adventure.<br />
Bringing life (in all forms) into this world because of the journey.<br />
Leaving a legacy that lasts for generations.</div>
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Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-80204554293827632682012-10-08T10:24:00.003-04:002012-10-08T10:28:24.077-04:00Day Eight: Found in a Miracle (and on a Monday no less)A few weeks ago, well, Sept 15th to be exact, I had the privilege of attending Beth Moore's Living Proof Live Simulcast. The day's teaching was based on the account of the widow and the Shunammite woman in 2 Kings 4.<br />
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God spoke in a powerful way through His Word that day. I could likely write 31 days of posts on the notes I took from those 6 hours.<br />
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But on this Monday I want to talk about <i>miracles</i>.<br />
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Both the widow (poor, desperate, had nothing) and the Shunammite woman (rich, blessed, thought she needed nothing) experienced miracles. Like <i>shock your socks off</i> miracles. Even as I write that, I'm wondering why I feel the need to describe the magnitude of the miracles.<br />
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Isn't the very definition of a miracle just that?<br />
<ul>
<li>something extraordinary</li>
<li>something that surpasses all known human or natural powers </li>
<li>something ascribed to a supernatural cause</li>
</ul>
Thank you dictionary.com<br />
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Maybe I feel the need to qualify it because <i>miracle</i> is one of those words we use too often for things that are not truly miraculous. I know I have used it flippantly and out of context.<br />
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Not today though...<br />
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Looking over my notes from Beth Moore's simulcast here are some thoughts on miracles (and I'm about 98.7% sure that I wrote her words down verbatim):<br />
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<li>regarding the widow:</li>
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<li>personal desperation can jar us out of secondhand stories</li>
<li>our individual lives were meant to be absolute miracles...</li>
<li>so get <i>your own story </i>on this page</li>
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<li>regarding the Shunammite woman:</li>
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<li>Fear is the crippler of a walking-talking miracle</li>
<li>He wants to work the miracle of <i>you...</i></li>
<li>So tell <i>your story</i></li>
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It's about time I started telling my story. </div>
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<i>I am</i> a miracle </div>
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because <i>I AM</i> lives and breathes in me</div>
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So I'll ask you the same question Beth Moore asked her audience across the world that day...</div>
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Are you ready for Him to do in and through you what cannot be humanly explained? </div>
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I am</div>
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<br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-31225521808263265272012-10-07T21:17:00.000-04:002012-10-07T21:19:18.062-04:00Day Seven: Found in MusicI've been riding around with my dear friends exploring the woods and waterfalls of northwest Georgia today. We've listened to some songs that I've been missing. God is everywhere we turn if we listen with His Spirit.<br />
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<i>Little Wonders </i>by Rob Thomas has always touched a deep part of me. I realize now it is because of the larger message of the movie... "Keep moving forward." At the end of the movie when Lewis has the opportunity to see his birth mother he decides not to. Instead he plays the hand he was already dealt. Or in the way I've been seeing things lately...<br />
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he continues to walk it out.<br />
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Recently someone gave me a verse to look up that seemed fitting for me now - oh my... was it ever fitting. <i>Little Wonders</i> seemed to fit with the message of the verse well. </div>
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Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!</div>
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Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?</div>
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I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.</div>
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Isaiah 43: 18-19 (NIV)</div>
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One thing defines me. One Person rather. In Him I live and move and have my being. He is working all things for my good and there is not one bit of my life that has been wasted. </div>
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Let's keep moving forward shall we?</div>
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Happy Sunday. </div>
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Then another person spoke about </div>
<br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-89444610339403274892012-10-06T18:02:00.002-04:002012-10-06T18:02:37.859-04:00Day Six: Found in FallFall has always been my favorite season. The heat and humidity of Summer drains my energy while the cooling temperatures of September and October put a definite spring in my step. And then there's all the fun Fall events... apple festivals, pumpkin patches, corn mazes, and the like. Oh, and the colors. The colors the colors the colors...<br />
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greens that gradually become orange, crimson, and yellow. The maples seems to show these off the best.<br />
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I've been blessed to spend the past two weekends in lovely cabins in the mountains of Western, NC with beautiful graceful friends. But even during the week I have found myself reveling in this season.<br />
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It's no coincidence that I was <i>found</i> on a Friday in the Fall and that He pursued me wildly until I literally fell (hard) into this year's Fall.<br />
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Though I cannot fully understand the why's and wherefore's of how He works. I think I have an inkling of why He chose this season of life for me during this season of the year.<br />
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He knew it would be hard, so He let me fall during the months of the year when I already look around in wonder at His creation. He knew I needed to hear his gentle whisper, so He let me fall when my heart and life were slowed down enough to listen. He knew I would need to find hope and excitement for the future, so He let me fall when there would be festivals and fun everywhere I turned.<br />
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Most of all, He <i>knows </i>me. There is not one detail of me that escapes His attention. Sure, I've read over the years that He knows every hair on my head - and that's great. But what I realize about that verse now is that He knows <i>every single thing</i> that lights me up from the inside out.<br />
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That's what Fall does for me. It has always been <i>my </i>season. Eyes wide open, taking it all in, heart full of wonder. So that's where He found me, where He knew I would be ready to change - just like the beautiful maples.<br />
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It literally brings tears to my eyes to <i>know, </i>I mean really <i>know</i> that He loves me that much. To purposefully bring me to this place with Him during my favorite season of the year.<br />
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So now every single Fall I will remember how I fell and how I was <i>found. </i><br />
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Thank you Lord for this season. A season of stunning, life-altering, merciful, grace-abounding change.<br />
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<br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-86971023608217400932012-10-05T20:17:00.001-04:002012-10-05T20:17:53.119-04:0031 Days of Being Found: Day FiveFound in the lack of technology<br />
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Perhaps this is unique to America. Not sure, I'm not much of a world traveler. But the ridiculous pace of life in the U.S.A. can be absolutely exhausting. Truly - how and why do we do life this way?<br />
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Everyone is in a hurry and ridiculously connected to all manner of things - except people it seems. A line at the grocery store with more than one person in front of us inspires a sigh or a huff. A stoplight means 30 vital seconds to check Facebook, Twitter, email, or a play on Words with Friends. Waking in the morning means checking email for 20 minutes even before turning on the morning news show.<br />
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Anywho... there's a myriad of things to distract us throughout the day. I don't think any of these things are awful in and of themselves - truly. Social media, the news, smart phones, and the like can serve a host of positive avenues in our lives these days. However, I do believe that if we focus too much on these things we risk becoming consumed and/or driven by such things. In doing so we may miss God's whispers during our day.<br />
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Now... I say these this recognizing fully that I have allowed myself to be totally consumed by such things as well as the breakneck pace of appointments, responding to emails in less than 5, and "liking" every possible FB status update or comment in fear of not appearing "social" enough. I obtained an iPhone near the beginning of 2012 through my job and immediately fell in "love." oh my word - it was a quick fall too.<br />
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Remember though... I quit my job recently. So that meant no more iPhone (unless I wanted to foot my own bill at the moment). So at the end of July I went from iPhone connectivity back to this:<br />
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And life has been so sweet because of it.<br />
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Now I won't lie. I'm gnawing at the bit to get my hands on an iPhone again. However, I must say that this time away from it has been a much needed break from distraction.<br />
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I have also limited my TV time lately. Instead of starting my mornings with world news and entertainment I turn to God's Word. I realize how "church camp" that sounds, but it has been an absolute necessity for me to drown out every voice but His lately. I have taken for granted how sensitive my mind is to input. That may be negative news, romantic comedies, the FB lives of friends that have "more" of what I want for myself, or the need to respond immediately to email as a means of controlling something - anything.<br />
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Gosh, it's exhausting.<br />
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So these days away from much of that have been so sweet. It's forced me to sit in silence, to listen to people instead of just hearing them, to listen to my own thoughts and sort out the Truth from the lies, to pick up a book - or even The book, and to write.<br />
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In essence, this disconnectedness has issued a connectedness to things that I've needed to focus on for quite some time. Most importantly, I've heard His voice more. I think He whispers to us frequently. We just have to be quiet and focused enough to hear Him.<br />
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Have you been hearing His still small voice lately?Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1615845471865735327.post-26735618372042648512012-10-04T22:50:00.002-04:002012-10-04T22:50:36.184-04:0031 Days of Being Found: Day FourFound in Community<br />
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Who are your people? I've been asking myself that a lot lately. Yesterday I was rather bold about telling you about my recent failures. I also told you that I am crazy happy with all of this "failure." And I still am.<br />
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So let me start telling you about <i>why</i> I'm so joyful amid all the "mess."<br />
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A very important factor in my newfound joy is my community. And because I love contrast so much, let me take a minute to discuss the antithesis of community...<br />
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isolation.<br />
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Ug, I despise that word these days. Truly. Doesn't it conjure images of a prisoner in a solitary confinement cell? Or a school kid in ISS sitting alone in a cubicle eating his or her lunch. For the past three years that word could have captioned almost any snapshot taken of me in my living room staring at my television - any night of the week.<br />
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Isolation is essentially hiding. Most days I did not even realize that I was hiding. I simply convinced myself that I was too tired, or too sad, or that because I'm an introvert I needed some down time at home by myself. I'm not dismissing the joy and necessity of times of solitude - certainly not. Quiet solitude and isolation are vastly different.<br />
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Times of solitude with the Lord are a necessary and vital part of spiritual growth. I think these times lead to discovery (aka being found). A person leaves such times renewed.<br />
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Isolation leads to loneliness and despair. Some of the enemy's best tools to thwarting growth.<br />
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As I started to let go of the things that were keeping me in hiding I began to discover my desperate need for community. I began contacting friends and family again. God brought to mind a host of people who were or would become my community. It was beautiful.<br />
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For one, I needed a place to stay. I'd just quit my job and still had a mortgage so renting seemed fairly irresponsible. So, I called my 82 year old aunt and she was thrilled to have me. This is my dad's sister and later he said "Holly, does she know you'll be bringing your cats?" Oops. You know what she said when he mentioned it to her??<br />
"Well if Holly is coming of course the cats are coming." Precious.<br />
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I invited some girl friends from college to spend a weekend together at my aunt's cabin. Newer friends have invited me to spend some time with them this coming weekend. Coworkers from three years ago still have lunch every Thursday at a mall food court. I join them every chance I get. My family and I have taken day trips through the mountains. My dad is teaching me to fly fish (currently we are still practicing casting out in the backyard with the apple tree as the target).<br />
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My community is teaching me that life is not meant to be lived in isolation. I'm needed in this world. Because His life living and breathing in me is needed in this world, in my world - in my community. It doesn't matter that my life "looks" messy. Truth is people identify with the mess. Because all of us have some kind of mess. Being found just means you admit it and cease being afraid to share it.<br />
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Being found is causing me to be real. To be real with and in my community.<br />
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So who are your people? How do they "find" you? How do they keep you real?<br />
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<br />Holly Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11570098654383459592noreply@blogger.com1