tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61598996069447348532024-03-12T21:08:59.839-05:00Always Crazy BlessedAlways Crazy Blessed—is a line in my favorite song, “Me” by the artist Plumb. I think it’s my favorite just because of where I am right now in my life and I identify so strongly with the lyrics. Always Crazy Blessed is a journey and the opportunity for me to remember that I am crazy blessed and oh so lucky….DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.comBlogger105125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-65574692991493256552023-06-20T10:10:00.002-05:002023-06-20T10:30:03.826-05:00Paradigm Shift<p>My favorite color has always been <b><span style="color: red;">RED</span></b>. Red is a bold color. To me, it's the color of bravery, honor, love and even strength. Red had it all. When planning our wedding it was easy to decide on the color red.</p><p>My least favorite color has always been <span style="color: #fcff01; font-size: x-small;">yellow</span>. Yellow is a weak color. To me, it's the color of sickness, mild and meek, just blah. It seems to wash out and pale in comparison to my beloved red.</p><p>I remember my first brush with the color yellow. My hero, my older brother, had been dating his high school sweetheart and proposed; they were planning their wedding. She picked yellow. Oh no! I was only ten but I was sure this was a sign of disaster. Yellow bridesmaids dresses and the cake lovingly baked and decorated by my mother was white and covered with daisies. Yuck and double yuck! Somehow I made it through. (40+ years later they're still happily married with three kids and NINE grandkids!!)</p><p>Several years ago, my daughters were a part of the youth group at a local church. Of course they needed adult volunteers and I begrudgingly said yes to helping. Somehow I found myself with a group of seventh and eighth grade girls. One of the things I did was strive to really get to know these girls and of course I asked their favorite colors. As we went around the room I heard many colors that were pleasing to my own personal preferances then one young lady replied with the dread "yellow." >>blech<< She was such a sweet girl with an incredible life story but she loved the color yellow. For the life of me I just couldn't understand loving the color yellow. </p><p>Then I found myself in 2018 & 2019. Adulting had gotten really hard. My parents were in the midst of their descent into #damndementia, Handsome was needing/having back surgery, I was traveling to DC with 27 teenagers then returning home to hernia surgery, my friend Tamara was diagnosed with and fighting a stage IV glioblastoma. One of the happiest, most perky, sassy fun loving friends was handed this dreadful diagnosis and guess what her favorite color was...that's right yucky yellow. (Imagine if you will my eyes are actually leaking as I type...) </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijpRKBQN1FvE4rM70czZ_D2gfu648ejF3RoETMkjtFpbiHhEpw1U8kER8yLF9niIEHI-pMqH-Uo-4GN6SsuvDSNZ78Hxm9rYOSIcmq4QDAj06pXIoWpQ1W2U8-rK8npITl-Pu-Mpjw_RLWN3ic5YSCf_qBweOjx48vquGtCY6os0MF68gwid-LM81D1oY/s696/FB_IMG_1687271565191.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="559" data-original-width="696" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijpRKBQN1FvE4rM70czZ_D2gfu648ejF3RoETMkjtFpbiHhEpw1U8kER8yLF9niIEHI-pMqH-Uo-4GN6SsuvDSNZ78Hxm9rYOSIcmq4QDAj06pXIoWpQ1W2U8-rK8npITl-Pu-Mpjw_RLWN3ic5YSCf_qBweOjx48vquGtCY6os0MF68gwid-LM81D1oY/s320/FB_IMG_1687271565191.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visiting T in the hospital, we stopped at Walmart on the way and got shirts. <br />We used Duct tape to create "Team T" shirts!</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Tamara was part of our group of moms lovingly known as the "Mom Squad." (This group was "legend" when I met them, they welcomed me with open hearts!) We became family because we all had kids who were members of the Ozark Youth Shooting Team. This group is a little different than your other sports because from October through the end of July we spent our Tuesday evenings together. In February (through the end of July) we added in spending all day together every Saturday. We traveled together to competitions all over Arkansas and also traveled to New Mexico and Pennsylvania together. We came to consider one another family. When one of us hurt, we all hurt so when Tamara got sick, we all felt the sting.</p><p>The year Tamara spent fighting flew by quickly. I texted her most mornings with a "T-sky" you know those beautiful billowy white clouds on a canvas of blue...at first we would text a bit but it got to where she'd simply respond with a smile emoji, then a "y", then no response because her body wouldn't listen to her brain. I would visit with her and she would smile. I could see the love, faith and fight in her eyes. I would greet her with a gentle hand squeeze and before I would leave her another gentle hand squeeze and a kiss on her forehead. The last time I saw her, she didn't open her eyes...perhaps it was my imagination but when I told her I was going to give her a forehead kiss I believe I could see her slightly tilt her forehead toward me. A few days later, she was gone.</p><p>You know what wasn't gone? That's right...the color yellow. I began to look at it differently. </p><p></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Yellow isn't the color of weakness, it's the color of quiet strength.</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Yellow isn't the color of sickness, it's the color of fighting for health.</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Yellow isn't mild, it's fierce, strong and healthy.</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Yellow isn't meek, it's bold and unyielding; brave.</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Yellow isn't blah, it's spirited and full of life.</i></p></blockquote><p></p><p>I see yellow differently these days. I've experienced a paradigm shift. When someone asks my favorite color I proudly tell them it's yellow. Not a day goes by without my thinking of our Sweet T. When I see the beautiful clouds on that beautiful blue canvas in the sky, I know she is there. The yellow cannas in my flowerbed and my yellow coffee mug remind me to be strong, fierce, brave and most of all full of life. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhochongBO7PLEXChL2tEcUQJdXdip5YNX8Llo_DPwFoe4r5NMAgkgU9zOXHxkxBdfSV1HQB5kQhNwWOKb9ecf3g5ZkJW1WXzVZ7ZRojSBBAuNcvQSQfYH-b8unBkHeIwlOfbcE_0G8YsOeqfWFW46GWgqEaerPPR_bkLOxWbQS2bcvW0bsGgOp6mDcMqU/s1080/Screenshot_20230620_095426_Message+.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="802" data-original-width="1080" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhochongBO7PLEXChL2tEcUQJdXdip5YNX8Llo_DPwFoe4r5NMAgkgU9zOXHxkxBdfSV1HQB5kQhNwWOKb9ecf3g5ZkJW1WXzVZ7ZRojSBBAuNcvQSQfYH-b8unBkHeIwlOfbcE_0G8YsOeqfWFW46GWgqEaerPPR_bkLOxWbQS2bcvW0bsGgOp6mDcMqU/s320/Screenshot_20230620_095426_Message+.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>#TeamT</p><p>#FaithOverFear</p><p>Ephesians 2:8 For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith-and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God.</p>DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-58422215864818414872021-09-05T12:14:00.001-05:002021-09-05T12:14:13.655-05:00Jesus thou art all compassion....<p>What's your favorite song??? There are so many to choose from but I'd have to say mine is...well if I had to narrow it down to my favorite, favorite I'd have to say "The Sound of Silence" by Disturbed. But if you want to see some of my select favorites (including Banana Pancakes) you can visit my "Dead List" at Spotify- DanaAlexa Hope. Think back to being a teenager, heck still as an adult-we hear a song and we try to figure out the meaning behind it. Sometimes we can find out exactly what the artist was meaning other times it's simply left up to what it makes us feel liks it means.</p><p>How about your favorite book??? Wow, I've read so many in my life but I think I'd have to select either "Option B" or "The Gift of Pain." I love reading books with friends and then discussing them. It's incredible that when a group reads a book, there will be as many interpretations as there are people in the group.</p><p>My favorite movie happens to be "Shawshank Redemption." If you must ask why I don't know if we can even be friends! Is it Tim Robbins, is it Morgan Freeman, is it the great line-"...get busy livin' or get busy dyin'," or perhaps it's the way Andy took punishment for what he didn't do then-well you'll have to watch the movie if you haven't!</p><p>My favorite color used to be red but it's drifted more to yellow. My favorite shoes used to be Chacos but now it's my Birkenstocks. My favorite food changes depending on what I'm hungry for and my favorite drink is sometimes water but others I love a margarita with no salt.</p><p>All these things have a common thread-they are all open to interpretation. My interpretation. No one has the right to force me to like a song, book or movie or to get the same message from them. Three major faiths share a belief in one God-Judism, Christianity and Islam all found their beginning in the Old Testament of the Bible. They have many common threads but they've been woven by different interpretations (human interpretations of a book inspired by a diving God).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3q8EXYYlY2Y/YTT5pg0qp_I/AAAAAAACaTM/4_nmz1RQnicnj_c5FZHLqAyx8y982gSEgCLcBGAsYHQ/s561/compassion-word.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="234" data-original-width="561" height="133" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3q8EXYYlY2Y/YTT5pg0qp_I/AAAAAAACaTM/4_nmz1RQnicnj_c5FZHLqAyx8y982gSEgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/compassion-word.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>This week, my heart has really been with Texas and their ruling on abortion. $10,000 reward for reporting an abortion...how about $10K for every rapist you turn in? I don't really want to debate whether abortion is right or wrong. It's not an option I could imagine choosing but I don't feel it's right to take the safe option away from women who may want to choose abortion. Compassion. That's all I have to say about that.</p><p>Church today spoke to me. Keep in mind I don't know if how it spoke to me is what Heath had in mind. The things I share are the interpretations of me-not anyone else.</p><p>The highlights I quickly jotted down were:</p><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><span><a name='more'></a></span>When Jesus was asked about ethics (34 times in the bible) he turned it back on the one asking the question THIRTY-ONE times!</li><li>Jesus had no complicated creeds or expectations, simply LOVE your neighbor as you love YOURSELF.</li><li>An ounce of love is worth more than a pound of knowledge.</li><li>Christians shouldn't draw sharp lines between us (holy) and them (those who need to change).</li><li>Love does no harm, it doesn't degrade.</li><li>Bible standard for belief & behavior should only be interpreted through the LOVE of JESUS-even the devil manipulated the bible for his own purpose. Humans can make the bible say anything they want.</li><li>Jesus summed it all up with, "Therefore, whatever you want men to do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets." </li><li>Jesus had a magnetic pull about him-people just wanted to be around him.</li><li>Jesus constantly practices and preaches forgiveness-even when he was being murdered on the cross, "Father forgive them...." Jesus rose, not even death could stop him.<span><!--more--></span></li></ol><p></p><p>Now for my interpretation as it connects to women seeking abortion...God knew Jesus came to die. As a parent, I'm fairly certain it must have broken his heart to see his son die. But oh what saving grace, what a lesson we christians have gotten from his life and death. I cannot possibly began to imagine let alone understand every single situation that may lead to a woman seeking an abortion. It's not my place to cast judgement or tell her whether she can or cannot have an abortion. My job is to love her. </p><p>When I try to imagine how it would feel to be raped and learn I was pregnant because of it-I would have three choices-have and keep baby, have and give up for adoption baby or have an abortion. Two of those options mean my body will be carrying a baby that I did not want, one created from a union that was not intended so day in, day out through the pregancy I would be reminded-not every woman has the support or the emotional/mental wherewithall to go through that. A prescidence is now set that unless she realizes she is pregnant by six weeks she has no choice but to keep the pregnancy viable. </p><p>Now I'm trying to imagine the single mom, the one who is on birth control but for some reason it failed. She is doing everything she can to make ends meet and just can't afford the expense of doctor visits, prenatal care and the hospital stay, missed work, another mouth to feed and definitely can't afford day care. Six weeks of which two of them she has no idea she's pregnant. When she's late she chalks it up to stress or maybe she doesn't even pay attention because she's so busy. (Please don't even condemn her for sex outside of marriage...don't even go there. I'll refer you to Nadia Bolz-Weber and her book "Shameless" for my reasoning.)</p><p>I could go on and on with possible scenarios but that's not my point. I don't think Jesus would be for or against abortion. I think he would be for us loving the women no matter what they decided to do. Jesus was the ultimate forgiver. If we are to be even a little like him then we need to not make laws that could harm another. The embryo, the fetus, the pre-born baby...if their mother chooses abortion it will almost certainly be a decision she agonizes over-the saving grace is she will be reunited with that baby someday...just like women whose bodies spontaneously abort like mine has done TWICE. </p><p>Jesus loves me, Jesus loves you, Jesus has enough love and forgiveness for the world. Jesus thou art all compassion; help me to be more like you and have the same forgiving nature. Help others to recognize you through my love for others because no words I could ever speak would be loud enough, I must be fully invested in the world around me recognizing that unfortunately my privileges are not universal. I bet most of the world isn't blessed with the same privileges you are. :)</p><p><br /></p>DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-79061131470905465042020-03-24T11:46:00.000-05:002020-03-24T13:09:23.726-05:00All the TeaSeveral months ago one of my Wednesday night girls came in and exclaimed "I've got so much tea!!!" I had no idea what she was talking about but each week we start our small group with "happies & crappies," "glads & sads," "highs & lows" whatever you want to call it, we share about our week. The weeks went on and I kept hearing references about the "tea" or one of them saying, "spill the tea!" I finally asked and they giggled and groaned as they explained that "tea" was information and when one "spills" the tea they're telling it. I've been sitting on some "tea" of my own, trying to decide the right time to "spill" or even if I should spill it at all. Time is slow right now so I thought perhaps spilling all the tea would be okay.<br />
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First thing every morning I put the kettle on to boil water for a hot cuppa tea. I used to enjoy London Fog-Earl Grey tea with vanilla, stevia and cream-the perfect delight. I transitioned to plain Earl Grey then finally to English Breakfast, there is something soothing about wrapping my hand around the hot mug and breathing in the steam as I take that first sip in the mornings. It is a constant steady (hot tea in my live*laugh*love mug) in my otherwise chaotic life (a whirlwind of busy just like everyone else). I changed my tea November 14, 2019 little did I know that day would prove to be a game changer in my life.<br />
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I've had a dysfunctional relationship with food my entire life. I remember in elementary school at picture time, not only was I tall and in the back with the boys but I was the "big" girl. I could never wear the cute clothes because they didn't make them in my size, I was wearing hand-me-downs from my sister (who was 8 years older)! I was in junior high when my scale first showed the number 200, I cried but I didn't know how to make it stop. Everyone made excuses--you're just big boned, you are really tall, you have such a pretty face, look at your beautiful hands. Really? My beautiful hands??? The summer before I turned 16, my mom took me to a "fat" doctor. I don't remember his specialty, his name or anything else about him except a girl from my town was going also; it was a miserable failure that only made me feel worse about myself.<br />
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College turned into a real time of self loathing. I went to a college 12 hours from home, there I learned to chug a beer, mix everclear with strawberry soda and totaled my car. I returned to my parents home and was miserable. Alcohol does not make you skinny and happy as a matter of fact, it makes you fat and miserable. It makes you so miserable that you do dumb things for example, I rented an apartment, made arrangements to transfer with my job and didn't tell my parents until the day before I moved. Needless to say I wasn't a very good daughter for a few years. My college boss lives here in Bentonville, I bumped in to him and his wife a few weeks ago, we were reminiscing about our time in Weatherford. I told him how much I appreciated him, Virginia, Carol, Rusty and the other managers who could have fired me (and several other college kids) more than once but they believed in what the future held for us...thank goodness!! There is no telling how many young lives they impacted by them being good role models and encouraging us to be better persons. I "wanted" to lose weight but somehow the twice monthly, payday keg party seemed to only add to my scales number.<br />
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Then I met Handsome. The guy who held my head out of the toilet when I was vomiting because I drank to much beer as he exclaimed, "you have to stop doing this or you're going to kill yourself." A few weeks later he said the words that would change my life, "I want you to be the mother of my children..." he wanted to marry me. Damaged, broken, fat, drinks too much, hates to wash dishes, dropped out of college, me. Just like that, we were married the next year and my days of drinking too much and self loathing were gone. Okay, the drinking was gone but the self loathing lurked, hiding in the shadows for many more years. My weight stayed way too high but I was in love. I became a mom (gaining only 16 pounds while pregnant due to the urging of my doctor). I avoided the camera like the plague. I still can't look at pictures from that time without cringing. It didn't get any better with child number 2 or 3.<br />
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When Jess was a few years old I started seeing commercials for Metabolic Research Center, I signed on the dotted line. I followed their very restrictive eating plan and drank my 5 >FIVE< high protein drinks every day. I was the model client who consistently lost pounds and inches at every weigh in, I had my pictures in their lobby and I was interviewed with them by a local radio station for advertising. I lost 100 pounds, I was still miserable. I was happy with how my body looked but they weren't happy with the number on the scale because it didn't meet their standard for my height, they wanted me to lose more, I wanted maintenance. I quit. I vowed I wouldn't gain it back. I gained every ounce back and the weight brought friends. It was awful!!!<br />
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Fast forward a few years-I became really good as pretending like everything is great but inside I was miserable. I hated being around people because in my mind, where that self loathing is lurking, I was confident that EVERYONE looked at me as the fat lady, always the largest in the room. But I've got a great personality and beautiful hands.....I'm miserable inside. I jumped onto another WOE (for those who aren't professional dieters that's Way of Eating), Paleo. How lovely it was eating like a caveman-lots of bacon, butter, whole milk-no flour, no sugar, no processed foods. I lost, people were noticing-I began to give into my cravings every now and then...next thing I knew I was back in my fat clothes.<br />
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November 2019, I finally looked up Intermittant Fasting. I had seen the word a few times but didn't really know what it meant. My initial thought was those people must be crazy, some of them fast 72 hours at a time! Who goes without eating that long??? Crazy people had to be the answer. I finally reached out to a friend, a friend from those college days, you remember the keg party days...she led me to a group called Delay Don't Deny. I bought the book and thanks to Amazon Prime it arrived in my mailbox two days later, I read it cover to cover. It made sense. It made more sense than all the diets I've tried. It's not a diet, it's a lifestyle. It puts ME in control not food.<br />
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On November 14, I fasted for the very first time, sixteen whole hours. It was easy. I TOLD NO ONE. I didn't want my family to think, "great, Mom's on another wacky diet again....I wonder how long this will last." Within a week I was fasting 18-20 hours a day. My family was noticing my eating behaviors had changed so I told them what I was doing. I think Handsome was a little skeptical at first but I promised him it was safe and read him passages from Gin's book. I became excited about food. I tasted things I haven't tasted in years, I crave fruit, veggies and granola in yogurt. I understand that food is a fuel to provide energy and nutrition because I can feel it working in my body. I can feel it working in my body!!!<br />
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I have learned the difference between actual hunger and mental hunger. I have picked up new phrases like, "my window isn't open but I'd love to take one of your cookies home to have with my dinner this evening." My favorite is going out to eat with friends and ordering whatever suits my tastebuds from the menu then not being able to finish it because I now know what full feels like (it happens WAY before miserable). I'm sleeping better at night. I'm waking up more refreshed in the morning. My inflammation has decreased. My cholesterol has gone down and I've been able to reduce my medicine. I've become aware of the unhealthy relationship I had with food. The biggest benefit, my self loathing lurker is almost completely gone. Am I still overweight? Absolutely. Will I ever weigh the government standard for my height, not likely. I'm morbidly obese. I will be morbidly obese for a while, I didn't get here overnight. My clothes have gotten a bit looser, my face and neck have more definition.<br />
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Here we are in this quarantine and I'm not stress eating which is something I have done my entire life!! As a matter of fact I feel releived because food is something I can control right now. The occasional rumbles in my tummy aren't hunger they are my body using the fuel I gave it for dinner last night. I have hesitated spilling the tea about my new relationship with food but when I woke up with "Loathing" from Wicked in my head this morning it felt like a sign. It's time to kick the self loathing to the curb!!<br />
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A friend used the phrase, navigating the new (thanks Dana @ Dr. Deckers office) back before Christmas. I wrote it down because I liked it so much. Here I am at 50 living the crazy blessed life as I navigate the new ME!<br />
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(I now fast 20-23 hours a day. I eat whatever I want!! If I'm going out with friends or family I simply adjust my time. No guilt, no shame, no calories, no macros just enjoying. My body does the rest!)<br />
<br />DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-78092672941829878102020-02-02T17:39:00.001-06:002020-02-08T13:07:22.073-06:00Jack...<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>I was thirteen</b></i><br />
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<i><b> when she died.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>I know I knew her but I'm sad,</b></i></div>
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<i><b> because I didn't know her enough.</b></i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma, top left in the dark. <br />
That's me in the middle.<br />
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There is not a single day that goes by without me thinking about her. About the hot rolls she made and how she'd pinch the dough off in balls between her thumb and forefinger. About the toaster she had that sat on a little red wooden stool in her kitchen and could toast SIX pieces of bread at the same time! About the polyster blouses that buttoned up the front, well worn, with bold patterns. About the twinkle in her eye as she would throw her head back and laugh, a deep, whole body laugh that came from the depths of her soul. About the meringue on her coconut cream pie that was at least a foot tall every time! About her toes that were permanently crossed so she had to wear open toe sandles and the huge corns on her hard working feet. But most of all I think about the person she was, the magic that made her well, her.</div>
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Grandma was the "driver" in the family. When I was a kid they would drive from Pocasset all the way to Weatherford to watch my brother play football, Grandma always behind the wheel of what I remember as a big yellow car! She always had a headscarf and a pocket full of tissues; she was usually bringing something delicious to eat along with her. I don't remember how old I was when she gave me a quilt she had made. It wasn't fancy and pieced but it was made with love. The underside fabric was simply an off white cotton muslin and the top was printed-it looked like square pinwheels. Rather than being quilted, it was tied with a heavy yarn. My brother had one, my sister had one, my mom had one but mine was all mine. Being the youngest in a penny pinching family during the early 70's having something that belonged just to me felt important! (Kind of like the time I got to go by myself and spend the night with them, Grandma and Grandpa took me to Dairy Queen in Chickasha. I had french fries, a footloong chili cheese dog, a soda and of course a dipped ice cream cone!! I still remember the bright red slanted roof, the windows all around and how special it was to eat out at a restaurant!!)</div>
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My mom was born in 1937, a few years ago I took her on a "cemetery" tour. We drove through the areas she had lived as a child and visited the graves of relatives long gone. She told me about my Grandpa tending fields where straw was being grown for brooms, other fields where she had picked bowls of cotten until her fingers bled as a kid, the area by the river where they lived when she was born. She wove stories together that day, so many stories! One chord that rang through all her stories was one I had heard my entire life Grandma knew how she to make something from nothing. She was one of the farm wives who turned feed sacks into clothing for her children, she knew how to stretch the food when times were hard so no ones belly went hungry. She worked hard on the farm right alongside Grandpa and their kids.</div>
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Flash forward to 2012, my parents moved to our neighborhood. Mom was spending more and more time with her sewing and embroidery machines. A dear friend gave her a small quilt, when she showed it to Handsome, his response was "when are you making me one?" She made him one all right, she made him a California King!!! It was incredible. After that, she was on fire and made quilts for all of her grandkids, great grandkids and six P.E.O. quilts!! In 2018, a dear friend was diagnosed with a stage IV glioblastoma-I collected fabric from our mutual friends because Mom said she'd make a quilt for "T." What I didn't realize was that I would get to do all the cutting!!! Like a strike from lightening bolt, I felt a connection. I needed to quilt.<br />
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I've been in love with Cathedral window quilts for years! Feeling the need to quilt but not really having a space to quilt or the time to spend cutting, piecing and sewing at a machine. I began to research<i> how</i> to make Cathedral windows, by handsewing. In June, I finally made the decision to use black Moda grunge fabric for the window panes and scraps from Mom's quilts for the stained glass. I currently have 60+ squares completed BY HAND. I've begun machine sewing four squares together. I'm currently "holding" on it until I get scraps. But I've got it in writing that my goal is to have a throw size quilt completed from them by December!!<br />
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As fate would have it, my friend Shirley had a flat tire on the day of her quilt guild meeting. The store was out of her size tire so she asked if I'd drive her. <a href="https://instagram.com/susansparksmichael?igshid=qeog36bqzbkz" target="_blank">Susan R Michael</a> was the speaker that evening and she brought with her some of her work. It was incredible (click on her name, go look, specifically "Circular Infinity"). The ladies in the guild were so nice, they have a "show & tell" time and their work was simply inspiring. I knew that was where I was supposed to be!<br />
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Handsome got me a great sewing machine for my 50th birthday. The ladies at <a href="http://www.rogerssewingcenter.com/" target="_blank">Rogers Sewing Center</a> were ah-mazing, Queen Ellen is happy in our home! (EverSewn Sparrow QE) On January 21st, I went to quilt guild without Shirley (she'd had surgery the week before) and I made a new friend. I shared my goals with her. As we said goodnight at the end of the meetings she looked at her watch and remarked, "It's early, you could go home and get your machine out of the box!" Even with the desire, I hadn't taken the time to get it out of the box and set up to sew. I went home and got "Queen Ellen" all ready to go! On Thursday during Daisy's puppy school, I went to JoAnn's and got fat quarters so I could get started on <a href="https://blog.fatquartershop.com/the-ultimate-beginner-quilt-binding-your-quilt/" target="_blank">The Ultimate Beginner Quilt!!</a> I'm working on block six today!<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rgIdUFNCqSQ/Xjc5_PBx8EI/AAAAAAABoew/SdIO7wHnhE8m8cTMkaEO6uI6wdlE-edYgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20200202_141124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="778" data-original-width="1600" height="155" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rgIdUFNCqSQ/Xjc5_PBx8EI/AAAAAAABoew/SdIO7wHnhE8m8cTMkaEO6uI6wdlE-edYgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20200202_141124.jpg" width="320" /></a>Grandma's name on her birth certificate was Roxie Anna Hamit. Everyone called her Jackie but I can remember some even calling her Jack. I have no idea why. It's one of the questions I would ask her if I knew her...enough. With every cut, every piece, every stitch I feel her nearby and that is somehow enough. This afternoon, I pulled out my quilt she made me as a kid. It was a little more tattered around the edges but the sight of it made me <strike>smile</strike> throw my head back and laugh with Grandma's gleem in my eye. You see while she didn't piece my quilt on the outside, there is a treasure hidden underneath and I can see it was a loved old quilt that had been done by hand. Something from nothing. Well played, Grandma!<br />
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DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-17692688389545094152019-11-11T07:46:00.001-06:002019-11-11T07:46:42.273-06:00BreatheA couple of times a year our preacher gets a Sunday off and occasionally he asks me to fill in for him! I consider these opportunities to be "gifts." Speaking at church stretches me outside my norm but it gives me a captive audience for a few minutes while I share with them a little about my Jesus! Yesterday was no different. Writing the kind of message that takes 10-15 minutes to deliver requires significant thought, listening, waiting, thinking, waiting some more, wondering if I'm going the right direction, waiting and finally transferring it from my brain to the written form so I can get the thoughts out of my mouth on Sunday morning. I have gained a new respect for Heath-the mental and emotional energy that it requires is almost draining but then you have that high, that rush if you will, when you finally share what has been "tormenting" you. I've never shared my written message but with this one, I had so many signs pointing me toward this message I feel it's only right that I share it here. Please keep in mind the following is not perfection-gaps were filled in by the his spirit and the words that actually came from my mouth yesterday. I hope though that when you read it, you'll get it. { YH-WH } As I am sitting here in the quiet before the rush this morning, I can not only feel his presence as I breathe, I can hear my breath whisper his sacred name.<div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This week on Facebook, a friend posed the question: what do you do for self care? I gave an answer as did several of her friends. What do you do when you need a little self TLC? The answers varied from a shower to the beach, walking outside to some Ben & Jerry’s. I bet if Heath were here he’d probably think a really tough workout of the day at crossfit-that definitely wouldn’t be self care for me! But one of her friends hit the nail on the head…”self care is whatever makes you feel good, feel happy, brings you joy and fills your cup.” Could there really be a one size fits all self care solution? We’ll come back to this in a bit….</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fV-tWzwn4Ao/XclkMTnU-yI/AAAAAAABh6Y/UlKvFgsPbbQdR4tcH70CNjnGcx-8lOelQCKgBGAsYHg/s1600/Screenshot_20191109-201505_Instagram.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1079" data-original-width="1075" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fV-tWzwn4Ao/XclkMTnU-yI/AAAAAAABh6Y/UlKvFgsPbbQdR4tcH70CNjnGcx-8lOelQCKgBGAsYHg/s200/Screenshot_20191109-201505_Instagram.jpg" width="198" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.hebrew-tattoos.com/" target="_blank">Hebrew Tattoos</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Many of you know I love the Hebrew language. I was working on this message and kept coming across the Hebrew word “ruach” which can mean wind, breath or spirit and appears 389 times in the Old Testament. Scrolling through Instagram last night and Gabriel Wolff who is the artist who designed my Hebrew tattoo just posted his latest-ruach. When we listen, even with our eyes, there are signs when we’re on the right path.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Humans are designed by God to breathe. Really! In Genesis 2:7 we’re told that “God formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living soul.” Throughout the rest of the Bible, breath is often equated with life itself with many allusions to God as the giver of breath. Let’s try a little experiment to see how important breath is. I’ll count to 3, we’ll all take a deep breath and hold it….one, two, huuuuuuuh, three! Didn’t work too well, did it? We are vulnerable and completely dependent on God-without BREATH we would die in just a few minutes. Breathing is a vital system, necessary to sustain us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">There is a prophesy found in Ezekiel, chapter 37: (I used the Message because I loved the way it sounded in my head. When you read this silently to yourself, don't read the numbers. Imagine Ezekiel receiving this prophesy from God, feel what he felt when God grabbed him and was set down among the bones. Use separate voices for God and Exekiel...when I read aloud, it was a "dramatic" reading with hand gestures, loud voices, quivering voices and excitement!)</span></div>
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<i style="font-size: 14pt;">1-2 God grabbed me. God’s Spirit took me up and set me down in the middle of an open plain strewn with bones. He led me around and among them—a lot of bones! There were bones all over the plain—dry bones, bleached by the sun.</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>3 He said to me, “Son of man, can these bones live?”</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>I said, “Master God, only you know that.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>4 He said to me, “Prophesy over these bones: ‘Dry bones, listen to the Message of God!’”</i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">5-6 God, the Master, told the dry bones, “Watch this: I’m bringing the </span><span style="background-color: yellow; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">breath of life</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"> to you and you’ll come to life. I’ll attach tendons to you, put meat on your bones, cover you with skin, and breathe life into you. You’ll come alive and you’ll realize that I am God!”</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">7-8 I prophesied just as I’d been commanded. As I prophesied, there was a sound and, oh, rustling! The bones moved and came together, bone to bone. I kept watching. Tendons formed, then muscles on the bones, then skin stretched over them. But they had </span><span style="background-color: yellow; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">no breath in them</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">9 He said to me, “</span><span style="background-color: yellow; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Prophesy to the breath. Prophesy, son of man. Tell the breath, ‘God, the Master, says, Come from the four winds. Come, breath. Breathe on these slain bodies. Breathe life!’”</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">10 So I prophesied, just as he commanded me. </span><span style="background-color: yellow; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The breath entered them and they came alive!</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"> They stood up on their feet, a huge army.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>11 Then God said to me, “Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel. Listen to what they’re saying: ‘Our bones are dried up, our hope is gone, there’s nothing left of us.’</i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">12-14 “Therefore, prophesy. Tell them, ‘God, the Master, says: I’ll dig up your graves and bring you out alive—O my people! Then I’ll take you straight to the land of Israel. When I dig up graves and bring you out as my people, you’ll realize that I am God. </span><span style="background-color: yellow; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I’ll breathe my life into you and you’ll live</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">. Then I’ll lead you straight back to your land and<b><u> you’ll realize that I am God. I’ve said it and I’ll do it. God’s Decree.</u></b>’”</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Dry bones were shown to Ezekiel but in reality they still had flesh They were weary, they had been sent into exile and left there. They felt that God had abandoned them. Even though his judgements on Israel were stern, in this instance 70 years in exile-he is equally gracious. Through Ezekiel he reminds his covenant people that he will bring them out of exile and back to Israel with renewed life that will be seen clearly as a gift from the Lord of the universe. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">How many times do find ourselves in a self imposed exile? We forget the very breath of life that was graciously given to us? We stay “busy” running ourselves to the point of exhaustion. Our days fly by in a blur as one month fades into another year…we begin to have physical signs of our deprivation-our head hurts, our feet hurt, we aren’t eating like we should. Anxiety, depression are both on the rise and we look to our doctor for the magic pill to help us center ourselves, lower our blood pressure, erase the bad cholesterol when what we really need is to do is hear his voice… ”I AM GOD, I’ll do it. I’ll breathe my life into you and you will live.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">People of the Jewish faith are forbidden to pronounce the sacred name of God. His real name is BEYOND pronunciation, unless you consider breathing a pronunciation. So, it makes profound sense for at least one of the names of the real God to be not a Hebrew word, nor a word in Egyptian, or Latin, or Greek, or Arabic, or Sanskrit, or English - not in any single language but in all of them, or in some form of expression that both underlies and transcends language: just breathing, which all humans do. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s6CZ4vbL5Eg/Xclk8nGa7UI/AAAAAAABh6g/2TknjuwZCykcvpXVT0Q7NkvJpmFRdeKJwCKgBGAsYHg/s1600/Screenshot_20191109-201531_Instagram.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1052" data-original-width="1080" height="311" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s6CZ4vbL5Eg/Xclk8nGa7UI/AAAAAAABh6g/2TknjuwZCykcvpXVT0Q7NkvJpmFRdeKJwCKgBGAsYHg/s320/Screenshot_20191109-201531_Instagram.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.scottericksonart.com/" target="_blank">Scott Erickson</a></td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Occasionally things you see on social media can have a positive lasting impact on your life. Earlier this year an event showed up as something I might be interested in on Facebook. It was called “Say YES” a liturgy of not giving up on yourself. My initial reaction was to ignore it but it appeared again…again I dismissed it. When it showed up a third time, I googled this Scott Erickson guy and I found that I really needed to say YES. Earlier this week I had no idea what I would be speaking to you about today but I knew the right words would come. When I saw this artwork from Scott on Thursday I exclaimed “I found it!” So please, close your eyes while I read his words continue to breathe deeply in and out and see if you can “hear” the sacred name of God---</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;">You cannot be separate from God.</span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Our word God is rooted in ancient definitions of the Divine. All of humanity has wrestled his Holy Mystery. The Hebrews themselves, who struggled even mentioning any Name for this Mystery, used the sound YHWH to describe the I Am Who I Am. .</span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">“YAH”. “WEH”. The very Name is our breathing. The very name of the Holy creator is the ongoing breath of every living thing</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Your life is sustained by elements you are not in control of. You do not make your heart pump. You do not make your lungs breathe. Your great mistake is to believe that your connection to life is up to you. All you must do is rest in the providence of unconscious sustainability.</span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">You can not be separate from God. Your very breath is evidence of this.... whether you believe in God or not.</span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Receive the Holy Presence found in your own breathing. </span></blockquote>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">When you can hear his name as you breathe, you have given yourself the ultimate gift of self care. It’s definitely one size fits all, it’s free, it’s plentiful, you can do it anywhere and when you concentrate on it you deepen your connection with God. </span></div>
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DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-4938932359629844552019-10-15T11:03:00.002-05:002019-10-15T11:03:30.227-05:00"Alvin" my friendI can't remember a time in my life when I didn't love rainbows. Even though I'll be 50 in a few months the childlike excitement comes right back every time I see one in the sky! Magic, wonder, awe, hope, trust, promises and smiles simply because of a little light refraction; the reminder of a promise made long ago by a faithful God. <br />
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As a teen, I was a member of the International Order of the Rainbow for Girls-an organization for the daughters and granddaughters of Master Masons and their friends. I loved being part of this group of young ladies who served the community, had memory work that centered around scripture and made friendships to last a lifetime. We wore dresses to our meetings with legs never crossed above the ankle and wore formal dresses for things like officer installation, initiation and dances with the Demolay! I loved all things rainbow.<br />
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I've shared with you all before how my first memory of having a "gay" friend was in high school when a friend turned around in class and quickly told me she was gay. I still consider her one of my dearest friends, I value her and the memories we share more and more the older I get. Little did I know that day in the mid-1980's that the symbol of the rainbow I hold so close to my heart would become the widely known symbol for gay pride. The first flag was dyed by hand and stitched together in 1978 for the Gay Freedom Day Parade in San Francisco. A fun fact of irony-a San Francisco flag company began selling surplus Rainbow Girl flags that day...<br />
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From the King James Version of the Holy Bible:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small;"><span class="passage-display-bcv" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline; margin: 0px; padding-right: 6px;">Genesis 9:14-16</span> <span class="passage-display-version" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline;">King James Version (KJV)</span></span><span class="text Gen-9-14" id="en-KJV-220" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">14 </span>And it shall come to pass, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the bow shall be seen in the cloud:</span></span><span class="text Gen-9-15" id="en-KJV-221" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="versenum" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">15 </span><span style="background-color: white;">And I will remember my covenant, which is between me and you and </span><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">every living creature of all flesh</span><span style="background-color: white;">; and the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh.</span></span></span><span class="text Gen-9-16" id="en-KJV-222" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="versenum" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">16 </span><span style="background-color: white;">And the bow shall be in the cloud; and I will look upon it, that I may remember the everlasting covenant between God and </span><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;"><i><b>every living creature of all flesh that is upon the earth.</b></i></span></span></span></blockquote>
<b>Every living creature of all flesh</b><br />
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Take a moment and let that sink in.<br />
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The other day I heard someone mention how sad it made them that the meaning of the rainbow had been changed from the bible, going on to imply almost a disgust for the LBGT community. I happened to be sporting my 2019 Pride Converse (black Converse, rainbow sole and shoe strings). I literally had no response, I love this person-we're friends; but still my heart hurt. All I could do was whisper to myself, "I do set my bow in the clouds for every living creature...I do set my bow in the cloud for every living creature..." over and over again. It really began to sink in no one "took" the rainbow from the bible. No one changed the meaning. The rainbow is for every living creature-man/woman, gay/straight, black/white-all the shades in between! Each and every creature of all flesh has the promise from God that we are loved and will never be destroyed by flood because of our wrong doing or sin.<br />
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Another fun fact-my friend from high school married her sweeheart, Julie and together they adopted three incredible kids; their daughter is a Rainbow Girl and I love that she is learning the same love and promises that I learned many years ago!DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-58596000537363698502019-10-03T08:38:00.001-05:002019-10-10T13:46:25.936-05:00the Forgiver<div style="text-align: center;">
"Forgiveness is balm for the soul of the wronged. It is something deeply personal."</div>
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I was raised in the church being told to turn the other cheek and a constant reminder that Christ made the ultimate gift of forgiveness by giving his life. Both are grand means of forgiveness but I think there was a little more to the story than just turning the other cheek. Forgiveness isn't a little thing, it isn't something you just do in passing (insert Oprah here giving away forgiveness on one of her shows-"you're forgiven and you're forgiven and you get forgiveness, here's more forgiveness....more and more forgiving until the entire audience is jumping up and down because they received it and everyone is magically a perfect person.) That's not how it works! That's not how forgiveness is meant to be.<br />
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The ultimate sacrifice by Jesus for our forgiveness worked because he is part of the Holy Trinity and they have a kind of super power. They have a relationship with every single person who has ever roamed this earth, they covet a relationship back; the forgiveness from that sacrificial act was deeply personal and genuine for each of us-it wasn't just a simple blanket I'm forgiving everyone of everything. Although I didn't have a name the day he died on the cross, he knew I was to be. He knew I was to be an imperfect, flawed human who would need forgiving time and time and time and time again.<br />
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It's taken me a lot of years to really get a handle on the super power of forgiveness. I'd absolutely love it if everyone could understand it. (Maybe Marvel or Quentin Tarantino will read my blog and create a movie about it-the Forgiver, sounds ominous but I can almost hear it in a James Earl Jones or Samuel Jackson voice being announced from the big screen. Of course it would have to be played by Denzel.) Until a few years ago, I thought forgiveness was a burden to bear, something I had to do if I were to be a "good Christian." All the sermons about forgiving others because Christ forgave you. That's just wrong! Jesus didn't die on that cross just beause his daddy told him to, it was so much deeper. ><i>a very personal, quiet plea, "father forgive them."</i>< I hope as I teach our children about forgiveness they'll get the real understanding.<br />
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Forgiveness <b>is</b> deeply personal. I think it ranks right up there with making love to your partner and giving birth to your children. When we hold on to a wrong, it's like an ulcer, a splinter, or even arthritis. We bury our feelings for a while, deep down inside because we're hurt and angry-they wronged me-how dare they do that to me?!?!?! We bury it and almost forget about it then we see their name on Facebook or maybe run in to them at the store or church and all of a sudden your psyche is screaching all over again. You feel your cool begin to bubble because they wronged you. They have no idea, they're living the life and maybe even laughing with their friends. You continue to seethe and probably even wonder what gives them the right to enjoy their life when they've been so horrible to you. Let me tell you, they.do.not.care!!!! They probably don't even remember what they did to you and if they do remember they may even think YOU'RE at fault. {take a deep breath here}<br />
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Forgive them. Just let-it-go. {exhale here} When you let it go, you are free. When you let it go, there is no pain to return to. When you let it go, you can enjoy your life without fear of drudging up the pain of the past.<br />
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Notice, I said YOU are free. I didn't say it erases what they did wrong. I didn't say you have to be best friends with them in the land of lollipops and rainbows. I didn't say you have to rush and tell them so you can be friends again. The trick here is YOU have the power when you forgive.<br />
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<u><b><i>YOU DO NOT HAVE TO CONTINUE TO BE IN RELATIONSHIP </i></b></u></blockquote>
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<u><b><i>WITH THE PERSON YOU HAVE FORGIVEN</i></b></u></blockquote>
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EoLaES1HQIY/XZX4GLgiOkI/AAAAAAABgzo/tF42LXr6arUfKA144mduMoLdBSG1UZU4gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/20191003_083001.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="584" height="223" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EoLaES1HQIY/XZX4GLgiOkI/AAAAAAABgzo/tF42LXr6arUfKA144mduMoLdBSG1UZU4gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/20191003_083001.png" width="320" /></a>We're human we like to hold on to the pain because it's ours. Jesus showed us the ultimate liberation of forgiveness. He grumbled to his dad-take this cup from me. The burden of showing love was huge, it required dying but in doing so he showed us that if he can forgive the worst humanity has to offer than surely we can forgive the ones who have wronged us. Let me be clear here because this is where it gets a little tricky-forgiveness doesn't mean the sin never happened, it doesnt mean you are "okay" with what has happened; it means you recognize you were wronged the forgiveness happens in your heart and you feel free. Sometimes forgiveness comes easy, especially for the little things but the big ones may take time and that's okay. I actually think that when forgiveness takes weeks, months or even years it's even more significant because the shalom you feel in the long run is the most soothing balm to your soul.<br />
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Personal story here...once upon a time I had a friend. I thought we were really good friends! The kind of friends whose kids have sleepovers, the kind of friends who bring meals when the other is sick, friends who worshipped and prayed together. Something happened-we were no longer friends. I have no idea what went wrong but I felt attacked (I was verbally and um visually I guess you could say). Now I'm no saint, I reacted like a human-I didn't want this person around my child any longer and I'm sure my smart mouth said words to others about the situation they shouldn't have. After some significant time had passed I was in my garden and I could almost hear the voice of God saying, "seriously Dana, you've been forgiven by me of some pretty big things why don't you let this go? Forgive her." I let go and I said the words, "you are forgiven" she never heard them but she doesn't have to. The cold dark spot I was holding inside and letting fester disappeared. I never told her, it's been years now and I'm okay. Forgiving her didn't even hurt, I just had to let it go...the pain wasn't mine, it was hers. Sadly I don't think she has had the same experience. I've seen her several times and my heart aches for her. I've smiled, even said hello but I can see in her eyes the look of one who carries her burden heavy-whatever went wrong, whatever I need to be forgiven of, she holds on to it like some kind of prize.<br />
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My Angel 2 has had to do more than her fair share of forgiving this year, I know she is a better person for it. Watching her hurt when pain has been doled out by someone like they're generous with the Halloween candy has been heart wrenching for me as a parent. You know, hurt me-hurt my kid? The proverbial cock has crowed multiple times but I know my girl more importantly I trust her. We have the kind of relationship where she knows she can be honest and real with me without fear. This last round may take a bit for her to release but I'm confident she will be able to say with sincerity, "you are forgiven" and when she does, she wins.<br />
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*A special thanks to Heath Bradley, pastor at Living Waters Methodist Church in Centerton for teaching me about forgiveness so I don't have to carry those "time bombs" of pain around with me all the time!!!<br />
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DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-91444992203817606272019-09-05T14:32:00.001-05:002019-09-05T14:42:41.607-05:00Toil or TormentThis morning I read Genesis chapters 1-3 like I've done dozens of times in my 49 years. Today I read it slow, with intent; to quote a favorite movie line, "I sucked the marrow" from it. I finally got to the part about the consequences and I looked down at the notes near the end of chapter three, something caught my eye. It spoke of the painful toil that mankind would be subject to because of our decision then it went on to quote Wesley, "humanity was only sent to a place of toil, not to a place of torment." I suddenly heard the the chorus of angels in my head and it all clicked.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LtJK5HnWsig/XXEih7vjS-I/AAAAAAABgPw/kDsyKeGopRo1HF7oY1zmkXoHemkN0pn3gCLcBGAs/s1600/torment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="580" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LtJK5HnWsig/XXEih7vjS-I/AAAAAAABgPw/kDsyKeGopRo1HF7oY1zmkXoHemkN0pn3gCLcBGAs/s200/torment.jpg" width="115" /></a><b>TOIL </b><span style="font-size: x-small;">(hard work) </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">NOT</span></b></div>
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<b> TORMENT</b> <span style="font-size: x-small;"> (</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">severe men</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">tal/physical suffering)</span></div>
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My heart has felt a heavy sadness the last few months. I feel a disappointment with humanity and I'm really struggling to find the light. As a child raised in the 70's and 80's the main form of instant communication was verbal, the spoken word. You were most often face to face with the one you were speaking with. Regardless of how you felt about societal and political issues I never saw or heard anything more than a slightly elevated conversation that ended with the persons still friends. Strangers didn't chime in (with hate) because they weren't there but now my heart aches with the vicious attack of words on people via social media.<br />
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Recently we had some flash flooding here in Arkansas. A woman was caught up in the swiftly moving water and her car was filling. Sadly emergency services did not arrive in time and the woman drowned. The recording of their conversation, and the mistakes made by the operator, has gone viral on the national level and the comments make me think of the angry crowd screaming, "Crucify...CRUCIFY...<b>CRUCIFY</b>!!!" when Pontius Pilot presided over the trial of Jesus. It really doesn't matter what the headline of the hour is because the treatment is the same. I feel so much empathy for them, a few sound bites or a video clip of a moment and lives are ruined. An angry society has become the judge and jury passing verdict on every story. The damage is done regardless of the outcome of the judicial system. We, the crowd, aren't following God's example of an appropriate consequence-toil we are tormenting causing mental suffering.<br />
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President Trump does or says something half the population disagrees with and suddenly the airwaves and social media streams are filled with scalding hate, his followers retaliate with hatred-the next day the cycle continues. Walmart decides to no longer carry handgun ammunition and the people are divided. The NRA is found to be "at fault" in San Francisco-both sides shouting their opinions with no discussion, only anger. Let's take all the guns away-no we need more guns! You're either pro-life or you want to kill the babies. I shouldn't even mention the refugee crisis debate. White people are to blame, no maybe the Mexicans, nope the Blacks, the Muslim...let's point our fingers at anyone who isn't like us or disagrees on this topic (whatever the topic)...society doesn't seem to be content to voice their opinions and have an educated discussion they only want to express negativity based on the soundbyte they hear over and over or the headline of the article they didn't read. Again, spewing torment-no consequences, no learning simply keeping their anger on a simmer all of the time. What ever happened to talking about it, working <i><b>through</b></i> an issue and both sides giving a little to come up with a reasonable compromise. The anger, the hate, it only serves to divide and make it worse because someone will always be the loser.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click below to read an article from the Anti-Defamation League on Cyber Hate</td></tr>
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<a href="https://www.tabletmag.com/jewish-news-and-politics/217041/waging-war-on-cyberhate" target="_blank">Anti-Defamation League</a></div>
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God could have scrapped humanity that day he came in and found Adam and Eve in their fig leaves. He could've started over again and again and again until we remained perfect clones of him with no free will. Instead he gives us the freedom to make decisions and have opinions. No two people are the same. No two people agree 100% of the time on 100% of the issues! It's just NOT possible.<br />
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If you're one of the people spewing your point of view, unalbe to discuss or consider compromise I challenge you to go back and read Genesis 1-3. Read it several times, let that compassion that was shown to humanity sink in. Do you have compassion? Real compassion, the kind that is willing to look at something from all angles and work together for good (toil) or are you so focused on your way that you don't care who gets hurt (tormented)? I'm tempted to stick my head in the sand and ignore all topics facing our society but that really isn't the answer either. My sister was afraid about bringing a child into this world way back in 1988, she called my Dad for wisdom and his words have stuck with me, "if the good ones don't have children, the world will never get better." People, if you claim to be a christian, one of the "good ones," then it is your responsibility to lead the way with compassion, understanding, listening and maybe changing a little from your "perfect" viewpoint so we can all work together and mend the hate. Have a discussion!<br />
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<br />DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-15946463724690819872019-05-22T21:53:00.000-05:002019-05-22T21:55:28.538-05:00Smoke & Mirrors<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Smoke & mirrors, trickery & deception...Facebook. All ways to distort or blur the facts, something that is intended to make you believe something is being done or true when it's not.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The most unflattering picture of me-ever!<br />
I was attempting to take a picture of <br />
Ted & the dogs, my camera was<br />
the wrong way! <br />
<i><b>I'd never share this on<br />Facebook...or would I?</b></i></td></tr>
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If Facebook is supposed to be full of our family and friends why aren't we authentic and genuine? Yesterday, I was a last minute invite to the American Heart Association Go Red Luncheon. While that may not be a big deal to most people it was HUGE for me. I'm calendar driven and I rarely do things on impulse. But for years I've seen pictures of people I know in attendance and my inner teenager really wanted to go hang out with the cool kids so of course I said yes. I immediately knew what I'd wear and headed out the door like a love sick teenager!<br />
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It was an expo, geared to all things for womens heart health! Heart disease is the #1 killer of women!!! Here we were, adult women who like hungry, greedy for more-more-more, I've got the galloping gimmees kids in the Bernstein Bears book-we picked up a bag and made the rounds to the tables. Scribbling our names and numbers in hopes of winning a massage, a yoga mat or some exercise equipment. With false eyelashes and bright red lipstick in place we gathered pieces of chocolate, stress squeezies and other freebies that left me wondering why will we (society collectively) pick <i>anything</i> up for free??? Even things we'll never need or use? <b>By the way a HUGE thank you to the sponsors yesterday, anything I don't use will be taken to the Women's Crisis Center in Rogers.</b><br />
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But I digress. At the 15th Anniversary Go Red for Women luncheon I was blessed to hear Dr. Phil. (Yes, I just typed that-never would I have ever imagined I'd be typing that I was blessed by Dr. Phil.) He spoke of how one year from today, he could GUARANTEE that our life would be better OR worse...our choice. He then touched on something are you doing with your life today what you want to be doing or are you doing it because it's what you did yesterday? <i>Were you doing what you did yesterday because it's what you did the day before...</i>not beause it's what you choose to do but because you've accepted it-not what you want to do or what you're meant to do but you do it because it's just what you do?? We generate the results in life that we believe we deserve-so if we feel we're not worthy or have a low self esteem, we generate results that go along with it AND we model it for our kids and they'll accept a "less than" life. He spoke of the image we want to convey and how we should dress it, live it, own it. (While wearing my funky red glasses, an exciting red dress, leggings and my 2019 Pride Converse with rainbow lades, I felt that my outside was very accurately portraying my inside.) Again, we all make a statement and we teach others how to treat us based on that statement. What do you believe you deserve? If you're damaged then you need to fix it, the statement you show (consciously or subconsciously) is VERY cleary to other people.<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Smoke and mirrors.</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Trickery and deception.</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Facebook.</span></i></b></div>
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We're all guilty. Even when we're not conscious of our attempts to deceive our friends and family we're doing it! We post about our victories, our personal wins. We share about our kids high score or winning soccer goal while leaving out the hours spent arguing about studying or the tutor that costs as much as a mortgage or how much we hate spending hours at the soccer field, or maybe our kid hates it too but we keep on because it's what we are supposed to do. We want to give the appearance of living a flawless life with no struggles but life is just not that way!!!<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JSZW5xP4JZc/XOU5n_31DrI/AAAAAAABad4/gWQIistrv4wkeZ0Lhb_9PqUauk0yx1juwCLcBGAs/s1600/51691.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JSZW5xP4JZc/XOU5n_31DrI/AAAAAAABad4/gWQIistrv4wkeZ0Lhb_9PqUauk0yx1juwCLcBGAs/s320/51691.jpeg" width="240" /></a>Yesterday I felt good about myself, really good. I thought to myself-I should take a picture of myself because it would make a great new profile picture. Yes. I was actually planning a Facebook profile picture in my mind and how fabulous I'd look. Then I saw the picture taken with my friend at a photo-op set up at the event. It was a great picture all right-I definitely look like I've given birth to three children and not been to the gym in way too long...if ever. There it was on Facebook for all to see in all my glory! HA! Jokes on ya'll...I didn't beat myself up. I looked at that picture and saw a mom who did give birth to three of the best kids you can imagine (they fight, they are sometimes mean to each other but they also forgive on another freely and generously.) I see my favorite glasses and my Converse that are my little symbol that "I love you" just the way you are. I see my slightly ecclectic, whimsical self. a woman who loves deeply and genuinely. A woman who sometimes feels like her world is swirling down the proverbial toilet because she is terrified that her future holds demons that can't be slain and that she's not a good enough wife, mom, daughter or friend. A woman who sometimes cries in her bathroom, and at night in the dark when everyone else is asleep but by golly give me a few and I'll wear that mask with a smile.<br />
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I came away yesterday wondering, really-really wondering what do people see? What image do I portray? My real image-not the smoke & mirrors, no trickery or deception, no Facebook perfection. Who am I?<br />
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<i>Am I strong, confident and capable or am I just frustrated, exhausted and overwhelmed? </i></div>
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<i>Am I kind, loving and generous or am I just selfish, cynical and superior?</i></div>
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<i>Is my life and family perfect? Are we actually flawed beyond belief?</i></div>
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Every one of those things is true, just not all at the same time. Some days I'm broken beyond belief, we all have demons from our past or even present that creep up and bite us when we least suspect it. I can be generous but I can also be selfish. My family is perfect for ME but we are actually flawed (we all are you know). I know who I want to be, I want you to know the real me. I want you to know the real me, I'm going to use that awful selfie for my profile picture you know why? BECAUSE IT IS ME! Perfectly imperfect, able to laugh at myself and allow you to laugh at me. Laugh with me, cry with me, walk beside me, be real with me and I'll be real with you-we can put down the smoke and mirrors because none of us are perfect. In one year, May 22, 2020 my life is going to be better. I'm going to make choices to send me that direction and I'm going to QUIT doing what I did yesterday just because it's what I've always done. I'm moving forward one crazy blessed step at a time. <i>Thank you Jessica for inviting me to table 54! Thank you Debbie Alsup, Paris Presents for sponsoring the table where I was seated-it may be small to some but going yesterday was a thing I've wanted to do for years; you've got a wonderful tribe of co-workers and friends (Lisa, Missy and Kathleen)!</i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I actually did look pretty good yesterday!</td></tr>
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<br />DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-80036251034883846512019-05-02T14:50:00.001-05:002019-05-06T07:10:05.468-05:00My GirlsWe attend a small church who has tried on different occasions to have a youth group but there just weren't enough to consistently show up and it always failed. Melissa wanted more. She felt a strong desire to be part of a group of youth who gathered to worship, share happies & crappies, fellowship, become friends, pray for one another and love Jesus. Wow, that sounds a little cheesie when I type it but that is honestly what she was hungry for. (Isn't it interesting that left to her own desires it was to seek the fellowship with the "religious kids" and a deeper relationship with God??? What if every human had the ability to tap in to their "divine" needs, would they too be drawn to Him??? Bu-u-u-u-ut....that's another blog altogether.)<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mtpSpdEe2lE/XMtAm21X38I/AAAAAAABZak/hXNaUTA-YzcINCHIMl57r2ntNqmo6o6WgCLcBGAs/s1600/20190502_140216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="111" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mtpSpdEe2lE/XMtAm21X38I/AAAAAAABZak/hXNaUTA-YzcINCHIMl57r2ntNqmo6o6WgCLcBGAs/s200/20190502_140216.jpg" width="200" /></a>Like other parents, I dutifully attend the parent session at the beginning of the school year. I then spent a year listening to her come home on Wednesday nights talking about her small group. Honestly there were times I was frustrated because it seemed some weeks their time was just talking and not really getting to a lesson or scripture. I wondered what the point was and the question, "is this just a waste of time" crossed my mind more than once. Guess what?!?!?! Those nights they didn't get to a scripture or lesson, they were learning something just as valuable. They were building trust, relationships, forming bonds with their friends and learning to pray for one another! Those things will hopefully be there for the rest of their lives AND they were doing this in the best house ever-God's house surrounded with a multitude of prayers that have been filling the space for generations. Wow, definitely NOT a waste of time!<br />
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*A quick Pomegranate AKA Squirrel moment...*<br />
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I'm what one might call a person of "spiritual fluidity." I was born and raised a Methodist, all 49 years of my life, you could say I'm a card carrying member. Confirmation class when I was in the sixth grade piqued my curiousity about other religions and how we all fit together. None of us are purists you know, Jesus wasn't the first christian. He never said GO BE A CHRISTIAN. He simply said, follow me and I will make you fishers of men. Follow me; learn from my stories of how to be a better human, a loving member of your community NOT make rules about how you have to act, worship and believe. Love your neighbor just like you love yourself, forgive others like I forgive you-be kind, be helpful, be nice. I don't believe any one organized religion is 100% correct in their intrepretation of the bible or the stories contained in it. I don't believe there is a single perfect person roaming this earth today nor has there been with the exception of Jesus.<br />
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After Mel's first year when I attended the obligatory year beginning parent meeting, I was asked if I would consider helping on Wednesday nights. All the alarms went off in my head-I'm a homeschool mom and I don't really *like* other kids. I really wasn't interested in being with a bunch of hormonal, over dramatic, petty and somewhat obnoxious teenagers but like so many times God had different ideas. After much prayer and litteral wrestling with the answer I kept getting I hesitantly said yes. Me, Dana Hope...I said yes to meeting weekly with a group of teenage girls, 7th & 8th graders you know the ones full of drama and boy problems, trying to find their place in the world, arguing with their parents and full of so much love they are about to burst at their proverbial seams. These girls quickly became "my girls." I know, I know...I have three daughters, I have girls but they are my daughters. Each of my Wednesday night ladies are and will forever be My Girls.<br />
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My first year I was full of ambition and I would work hard to find things to fill our time. We learned about the strong women in the bible-Ruth & Naomi, Esther, Mary & Martha, Puah & Shiphrah and of course, Sarah. At the end of the year, the girls selected stories and parables-voted on the ones we would learn about and we did. It was a great year but a lot of work. I spent hours each week preparing and not nearly as much time as I wanted praying for those girls. When it came time for year two, my personal life had changed a litte and I knew I wouldn't have the hours each week to research and study so I asked for some curriculum and the Lord, through Brooke-youth pastor, provided exactly what I needed!!!<br />
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Two years of material that would cover the bible in three lesson topics. From the first sample, I was thrilled with it and knew it would be perfect. My 8th graders and Allison moved on to high school and a new crop of 7th graders moved in. We had a new classroom and brand new couches, a television I could cast video clips to but best of all a new group of young ladies who were eager to become...each and every class a teacher has is special to them. I know I'm particularly emotional this morning because these girls are so fresh on my heart and next Wednesday is the last time we will gather as our Wednesday night group. These girls have fed me, my faith, my belief, my relationship with God more than I ever thought possible. Each week we all share things, sometimes something as important as cellulite or the cheer girls being particularly "cheery." Other times someone will ask timidly, this will stay with just us, right??? And it always does. Our room is a safe place, no words or thoughts are off limits because I am a firm believer that they all have a place and time <b>if</b> addressed properly and used appropriately. (If you doubt my belief on words just ask a certain someone who let the f*bomb fly inappropriately during class and another who referred to someone appropriately as sh!tty.)<br />
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Sometimes I feel like a secret holder. Sometimes I feel like a gift giver. Sometimes we don't get to a lesson at all. Sometimes I read a poem. We've imagined flowers, we've learned about love, friendships, doughnuts, chocolate...I've encouraged them to talk to their parents and give them the gift of talking to them. I've even heard about relationships bloom where hate once grew. I've watched girls come in with problems, work through them and grow. I've seen the bonds of their friendships strengthen not just within the walls of our classroom but at home and at school (even when someone slips on the food in the cafeteria or hates bandanas). I've heard them encourage one another when they're nervous about a grade, performance, competition or presentation. I've seen them support one another and share with me places they have gone together-even their walks from school to the church! I hear them congratulate one another on jobs well done and be there for one another when something goes wrong.<br />
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Last night something new happened. <i>I was speechless.</i> Those of you who know me understand the rarity of that ever happening. We were sharing how our weeks had gone-happies & crappies, glads & sads, joys & concerns-we often refer to them in different ways when Brooke peeked her head in the door. She told me to close my eyes, put down my pen and hold out my hands. She told me that I "love hard" and the girls love me back-they wanted to do something for me. I opened my eyes to find a Converse box, colorful writing on the lid. As my eyes teared up and I focused, I could see the names of my girls and several scriptures. I removed the lid to see the sidewall text showing through the tissue paper <b>FIERCE FEARLESS FEMALE </b>I pull back the paper to see pastel tie dye and gold eyelets then the real kicker...Be Salt my favorite scripture and phrase I always tell the girls when they're going somewhere with friends, 4-H or church! Speechless.<br />
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Never would I have ever-even in my wildest thoughts-would I have imagined that I could love someone elses kids as "hard" as I love My Girls. We've caught glimpses together of Genesis-Revelation, shared our *hopes*dreams*fears*, wondered in awe at Gods creation, Jesus' sacrifice, learned to forgive ourselves and others together. When I was a kid in the 70's my Mom faithfully taught a high school Sunday school class every week, she lovingly recalls stories about many of them; a few even stay in touch. My hope, my prayer is that these girls, My Girls, will know a few things for certain and remember for the rest of their lives:<br />
<ul>
<li>Jesus loves you-just like you are because you are a wonderful, dynamic, unique masterpiece straight from his Dad! When you ask for forgiveness (and really mean it), he forgives you as far as the EAST is from the WEST. He doesn't hold on to it and remember it, grumble over it or hold it against you.</li>
<li>Dana loves you unconditionally, you can never mess up bad enough that I won't. You may annoy me but I'll forgive you every time. You can talk to me about anything, I won't judge you; your secret is safe with me as long as you're not harming yourself or someone else. I encourage you to ALWAYS keep communication open with your parents, seek out their advice because they love you.</li>
<li>Each one of you have created a very specific mark on who I am (whether your fingerprint is above my head each night when I sleep or not). </li>
<li>Forgive freely, you'll feel better in the long run. Just because you forgive someone doesn't mean you have to maintain a friendship or relationship with them. Holding onto a grudge when someone wrongs you only festers in your heart, spoils your life and affects you. Forgiveness is about you, your heart, your mental health and well being-not theirs. </li>
<li>Lastly, love and respect yourself--always! </li>
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Before we close in prayer, I ask for requests and I pray for them; they pray for me and for one another. In case they ever forget, this is how it goes:<br />
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<i><span style="color: purple;"><b style="background-color: white;">God thank you for bringing these</b></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: purple;"><b style="background-color: white;"> wonderful, dynamic, unique masterpieces</b></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: purple;"><b style="background-color: white;">here this week...</b></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: purple;"><b style="background-color: white;">Help us remember through the week that we </b></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: purple;"><b style="background-color: white;">are His hands & feet, </b></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: purple;"><b style="background-color: white;">AMEN</b></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: purple;"><b style="background-color: white;"><br /></b></span></i></div>
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PS Brooke, I'm all in for 7th & 8th grade girls next year-if you'll have me.</div>
DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-23904540462858013142019-04-26T08:01:00.000-05:002019-04-29T10:23:54.067-05:00The other side of the fenceDear Backdoor Neighbors,<br />
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We bought our home in August 2000. It was brand new with sodded yard, no trees, no fence; it was truly a blank slate. Year by year we painted our vision of the place we would raise our children-home. Our first year, we added a sturdy 6' stockade fence so kids could play without worry and to help shape how, in our minds eye, our large yard would become our own private oasis. We added a landscape curb in the front for a flower bed, trees, eventually had the small patio expanded into a huge one and added a storage barn. The kids have a swingset, Handsome a 300 gallon stock pond of fish and lillies and me I have a huge fenced raised bed garden, lilacs, wisteria, crepe myrtles and even an elderberry bush. Slowly but surely this home and the yard that surrounds it have woven the story of our lives. Our yard has grown rich with memories of our family, friends and even a few furry animals.<br />
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We've seen houses built, neighbors come and go but one has particularly touched our hearts. We call him Bean. As a homeschool family we are home most days. Having a dog, a few ladies (what Jessica calls her pet hens) and a fish pond we are in the backyard several times a day. We knew you had a dog-about the same age as Rosie. We've watched him grow from a little puppy to the big dog he is today. Not much attention was paid to this dog until he started jumping. When Jessica would go out to visit her ladies or play with Rosie he would jump and peek over the fence as if he wanted to come over. She would always talk to him and he would have the hugest smile. Eventually he would run to the fence and jump to say hi when we opened the back door. Jess started calling him "Bean" because he looked like a jumping bean! Now the story really begins, the dog behind our house now had a name and just like that, Bean became family.<br />
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When one of us walks out the door, he would jump and we cheerfully say, "Hello Bean!" After Rosie goes out the last time each night we say "Goodnight Bean!" Eventually that one picket, nearing 19 years of age, became loose. An old pool ladder was drug to the fence so the girls could stand on it and scratch his head. Bean is a real lover of head scratches! Months flew by and Bean continued to jump and we fell more in love with his adorable self. A few weeks ago that loose picket fell to the ground. I'm not sure who was the most excited-Bean, Rosie or us! Being a responsible neighbor, I put one of my garden hog wire panels by the fence so Rosie couldn't go into your yard. The two dogs stick their heads through and seem to almost "hug" one another. When Rosie heads out the door, she heads straight to that gap in the fence to say hello to her friend, Bean.<br />
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I'm not sure if you've noticed the tennis ball or sticks near your deck but those came from Jessica. When she plays fetch with Rosie, Bean begs to join in the fun. She has gotten in the habit of grabbing something to throw at the same time for both dogs. We have a flashlight that has a red pointer light that Jess sometimes plays laser chase with Rosie after dark. She realized Bean was trying to get it so she stood on the ladder and pointed it around the grass in your yard-Bean looked like a puppy chasing the light.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TVkX5ZLEvrY/XML9BDJjPFI/AAAAAAABZEQ/UEwz_BPn47odJvG-bOBQ-oCUVVRf4vWpQCKgBGAs/s1600/20190425_181508.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="778" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TVkX5ZLEvrY/XML9BDJjPFI/AAAAAAABZEQ/UEwz_BPn47odJvG-bOBQ-oCUVVRf4vWpQCKgBGAs/s320/20190425_181508.jpg" width="155" /></a>I guess you could say we have fallen in love with a dog that's not ours. We were on the verge of tears when a "For Sale" sign was placed in front of Beans home. Our hearts cried at the thought of Bean going away. We started to joke within our family that perhaps Bean could just stay and live with us. The kids friends (all the way to Montana) have met Bean and love him. Then yesterday the real tragedy struck, a giant SOLD sign was added. We actually put a chair by the picket and were loving on Bean when Handsome said, "just go ask them...."<br />
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It took me a while to work up the courage. I mean seriously, how strange is it to go up to a neighbors door that you really don't know and profess your love for their dog. Hand in hand, Jessica and I walked around the block; we marched up to the door and rang the bell....knocked on the door....but no one was home. We felt defeated, would we ever work up the courage to ring their bell again? Would we be too late?<br />
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I spent some time on the swing that hangs from our Earth Day 2001 Loblolly twigs which now tower 25+ feet tall in our back yard. I'm scrolling through pictures I had just taken; they always say a picture is worth a thousand words so here. Here are the thousands of words we'd like to say-we don't know what you call this sweet face but we call him Bean. My kids, my Handsome husband and I are going to be lost when he moves. So if there is a chance that he doesn't fit with your new home or if you'd like to start fresh with a new puppy we're here for you. We'll be glad to love Bean forever more.<br />
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With much love,<br />
Your Backdoor Neighbors<br />
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UPDATE LATE EVENING 4.26.2019<br />
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☆☆Tissue Alert☆☆<br />Years ago I saw a movie called "Serendipity" and I became a lover of that word!! It turns out our love for Bean is very serendipitous.</div>
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Beans owner tearfully conveyed that they couldn't give him what he needed and had been looking for him a home. He will now be residing at Hopes_Home_for_Wayward_Pets (you can follow our pet family on Instagram). He will meet Dr. Hooper on Monday at 2 and will be royally snipped on Wednesday. Please whisper a prayer or bles<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">sing that he adapts quickly- he's a lady (chicken) chaser.</span></div>
<br />DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-6015073927883554122018-10-11T16:24:00.000-05:002018-10-19T19:51:35.119-05:00Simple GratitudeAdvertisers and marketing gurus know that an important key to sales is a great catch phrase. I grew up in the generation of "have a Coke and a smile," "everything's better with Bluebonnet on it," and some chicken that was "finger lickin' good!" My kids are more likely to ask for "the snack that smiles back," or "slip into a slim Jim," or maybe I should "break them off a piece of that kit kat bar." Maybe I need an advertising and marketing guru to give me a few catch phrases!!!<br />
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I'm at a proverbial <strike>rough</strike> patch in my life. I've been trying to get the words down on Damn Dementia but somehow the emotions are to raw and my heart doesn't want to give them light. So I come back here to where I strive to remember that I'm Always Crazy Blessed. Last week, my Handsome husband catered for a charity golf scramble; as the wife I'm blessed with the opportunity to work right by his side! On that Thursday I played the part of server and must have told 200 people, "today we have hamburgers, hot dogs and grilled chicken breasts...would you like a bun?" At a slow point in the day a rather tallish 60-something man appeared with a hat on his head. There was a white blob on it with some writing. As I was blurting out my spiel, I was struggling to read what it said, through squinting eyes and what must have sounded like gibberish from my mouth I finally got it!<br />
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<i><b><span style="color: magenta;">Simple Gratitude</span></b></i></div>
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I literally stepped back and gasped! The night before as we were preparing for this particular job I expressed to Handsome that I did not want to do this job...I would but I wasn't looking forward to it. I promised that I'd be positive the rest of the time and not grumble but I just ha-a-a-a-ad to give it a voice. Those two little words <i style="text-align: center;">Simple Gratitude</i> hit me in a way I needed. In my frustration, in my self pity, in my desire for "me time" I had forgotten what was really important- <i style="text-align: center;">Simple Gratitude</i>.<br />
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I've always been a positive person, my entire life. I don't only see my glass as half full but as refillable. Gratitude has always been "simple" for me. When I began forgetting to practice <i style="text-align: center;">Simple Gratitude<b style="color: magenta;"> </b></i>I fell into a slump, one could almost say I was bitter, dwelling on what I thought I was missing or lacking rather than focusing on all that I have. Over a week ago, I hit the deactivate button on Facebook. I was feeling rather sorry for myself and was exhausted with feeling like I had to pretend to be happy, full of joy and Miss Susie Sunshine but you know what??? <i>Simple Gratitude</i> doesn't require any of those things because it is giving glory, honor and praise for the small stuff, the little victories. It's about accepting exactly where I am today and making something beautiful out of it instead of wishing that I would be delivered out of my own personal Babylon (thanks Heath). God is giving me the opportunity to shape my own future by opening myself up to all the blessings in my life today.<br />
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A huge shout out of thanks to the stranger with the hat at the recent Caring & Sharing golf tournament, I think he may have been an angel because I really needed to see his hat. And another thanks to Julie, the random stranger from the parking lot at Sam's yesterday, who felt the tug to give me a bottle of wine because she said it was "National Do Something Nice for Someone Day," I paid it forward and used your kindness and smile to teach a lesson to my Wednesday night girls group at church then we walked to the Square and I treated them to ice cream!!DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-3679980001783350652018-08-15T11:36:00.004-05:002018-08-15T11:36:51.961-05:00Doubting DanaThomas, doubting Thomas..........................................<br />
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\..........................................Dana, doubting Dana.</div>
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Grape Koolaid and animal crackers at vacation bible school in the 70's, an angel costume fashioned <br />
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from a white sheet, tinsel and cardboard wrapped with aluminum foil for wings, kneeling for communion of hard little crisps and a shot of grape juice, my Dads green bible and the Certs in his pocket. Church was as much a part of my life as breathing, not to be questioned it was a place we went every Sunday. Those of you who are regular readers know what an example of faith my Mom lived with her prayer life, ladies bible studies in our home, and teaching the high school Sunday school class through the 70's in Weatherford! I learned all the stories from the bible from Mrs. Smith and they were reinforced with my record player which played the stories as I followed along in a little book. My Mom had a cassette player and tapes with camp like praise music that were often playing while Dad was at work.<br />
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For several years during Holy Week, our preacher would do a service where he would set up a table with 13 goblets for communion-one for each disciple and one for Jesus. He would tell about each disciples calling to follow, ministry and death. He would then invite us to take communion from the cup we most identified with; most years I placed myself with Thomas. If I have such a firm foundation in faith, then why do place myself with Thomas? Now don't get me wrong I pray, I believe and I long to have no doubts. But this has even crept into my sleep...last week I woke during the night, fumbled for a pencil and paper feeling like I had to write some words down so I could blog about them later. It looked like this, can you make out my notes?<br />
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There's a fresh clean notebook on my headboard now because deciphering this was not easy but somehow my heart knew. It's been a frequent doubt, concern, frustration....that nagging feeling that festers and continues to create a discord for me spiritually. My gibberish notes reflected a conversation from a couple of weeks ago in the car with my parents, we were talking about a lifelong family friend who recently passed from brain cancer. My Mom said, "we can't understand why God called her home..." Janet was there with my parents in their bedroom when I was born, she babysat us and even though we weren't really related her family always has been "family" to us. She was diagnosed with brain cancer a few years ago, we've all been praying-for healing, for a miracle, for her life to be spared.<br />
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I read and watched the Shack, I get free will. I understand that sometimes bad things happen to good people but still I can't help but wonder do I not believe enough, do I lack something? This is my struggle with my faith-am I the only one? God, the almighty, omnipotent, created the world, sent his son to live as man...do I not pray enough, earnestly enough, is my faith lacking? God can heal. I believe this will all my being. I don't believe in "miracles," I believe in God's ability to be divine. If eternal life with God is the ultimate then why do we pray for healing? Is it just a selfish desire to have our loved one here with us longer? Why are some healed while others fight, suffer and die? Am I not a good enough christian because I have these doubts and questions????<br />
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I sent my draft to my minister...he responded and I feel so much better now!!! He reminded me that even though it often seems that faith comes easier for others that what we see is their "public presentation. Even those who are confident and certain have doubts and questions but they may feel they can't be honest about what they're feeling or thinking. From now on I'm going to heed his advice and see my identifying with Thomas as an asset! Thanks Heath.<br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>"...doubts and questions can be difficult to handle at times, they are not "bad." Without doubts and questions, we would never grow or deepen our understanding. Doubts can actually serve an important role in making us more useful to God and others. They can keep us humble and open to others who have deep doubts about religion. If you had all the answers, you would likely be an annoying person who pushed people away from God! </b></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>So, I would encourage you to welcome your doubts and give them a seat on the bus. You don't have to let them drive the bus, but just let them go along for the ride. If you are constantly trying to kick them off, you will likely never get to where you are headed. I just hope you'll consider seeing your doubts as an asset, not a liability." ~Heath</b></span></i></div>
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<br />DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-82554624458017931822018-08-06T19:52:00.000-05:002018-08-07T14:30:30.133-05:00Anchor<div class="tr_bq">
I can't remember when I saw my first words written in Hebrew, perhaps it was around 1982 when my confirmation class from Wesley Methodist visited a Jewish synagogue in Oklahoma City. I remember how beautiful it was and how much I wanted to learn more about their faith. Anna even had a kids sing a long cassette tape with a song to learn the Hebrew alphabet! Shalom became the word that really resonated to me, I've used it to sign letters for years and used it as a personal prayer...<a href="http://www.alwayscrazyblessed.com/2015/05/desperately-seeking-shalom-at-45.html" target="_blank">shalom</a>...breathe in contentment, breathe out completeness; breathe in wholeness, breath out well being; harmony, complete peace.</div>
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There's a scripture, Matthew 11:29 & 30 where Jesus offers us his yoke which is "easy" and his "burden light." For a while now, my yoke has seemed anything but light. Daughter going to college, Jim Bob getting sick and dying, learning to live with the changes in my parents health. I wear a necklace daily that is a cross, I find myself using it as a touchstone as I utter "shalom" over and over. I began to think about the word I was praying and what it must have looked like when Jesus saw the Hebrew, it was beautiful. I started thinking about what those letters would look like as a tattoo. Just the simple Hebrew letters <span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: inherit; font-size: 48px; text-align: right; white-space: pre-wrap;">שלום</span><br />
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I thought and thought about it, deep inside before ever uttering a word. I finally started talking about my crazy thought to Handsome and the girls. When I got in the habit of checking out Pinterest for shalom tattoos, my incredible husband said, "if you're really going to do this it needs to be art, not just Hebrew letters." At first I was irked because I really wanted just the letters and then one morning a site I'd never seen appeared in my Google search. <a href="http://www.hebrew-tattoos.com/" target="_blank">Hebrew Tattoos.</a> I knew I found the place to design my tattoo. I immediately sent the link to Anna. She encouraged me to email them. I did.<br />
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The rest you might say is history. From my first message introducing myself to them, David (who is working on his PHD in Jewish history and linguistics) seemed to understand exactly what I wanted.<br />
<blockquote style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>"...indeed the word "Shalom" shares its grammatical root with the word "Shalem" ("whole" or "complete") and with the verb "Sheelem" ("pay").</i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Would you consider a piece where the word "Shalom" creates the shape of an anchor? Or maybe both "Shalom" and "Tikvah" (=hope)?"</span></i></blockquote>
The artist he suggest was <a href="https://www.facebook.com/gabrielwolff.official/" target="_blank">Gabriel</a>, I have to admit I was hoping for Neomi (my Mom has always loved the book of Ruth) but since I really felt like someone bigger than me was handling this journey I simply responded with the anticipation of an eager child and continued my prayer of shalom, feeling that deep peace surrounding this art. After what seemed an eternity, but was actually the next day, Gabriel messaged asking some questions one of them being if I was certain that I didn't want a "green lazy-boy recliner!!!"<br />
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We emailed back and forth for a few weeks until Gabriel felt he had a firm grasp of my desire and vision for a tattoo. I got on his drawing schedule and received my artwork as promised on July 3rd. Talk about excited, it is perfect!! During my wait, I looked at the portfolios of several tattoo artists. Anna strongly recommended <a href="https://www.instagram.com/humptydumptytattooer/?hl=en" target="_blank">Connor Humphrey</a>, owner of Super Nova Tattoo in Fayetteville, Arkansas. Connor generously worked with me on scheduling a time that all three girls could be there and my Handsome husband.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2cIwC0LTrQQ/W2jojeJYJUI/AAAAAAABJ2o/-fVlm-h6uSY6zDI5kSNPdi6IVW7OC2-LwCLcBGAs/s1600/14674.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="150" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2cIwC0LTrQQ/W2jojeJYJUI/AAAAAAABJ2o/-fVlm-h6uSY6zDI5kSNPdi6IVW7OC2-LwCLcBGAs/s200/14674.jpeg" width="200" /></a>Today was the day I had been waiting for since I first sent that email on April 15th. Four months of praying, anticipating, wondering if it was the right decision...YES! I walked in this afternoon and the first thing I saw was a beautiful American Bison mount, a sign sure as anything as it's my favorite animal. Connor's shop was filled with curious items, things I remembered from my childhood and even an "asswatch" taxidermy! We had a fun filled afternoon and I know this beautiful anchor will be my touchstone for the rest of my <b><i>crazy blessed</i></b> life!<br />
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<i>Shalom-peace</i></div>
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<i>Tikvah-hope</i></div>
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<i>Anchor-the christian symbol for hope</i></div>
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<i>Handsome-my hope, my love, my rock, my true anchor</i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So relaxed I think I could've fallen asleep!</td></tr>
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<i></i>PS I got to share my day with Anna, she got a little sentimental ink with me!<br />
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DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-68485200512980133962018-07-10T13:20:00.003-05:002018-07-10T13:22:14.709-05:00For youLast fall I was crazy blessed to get to hear Nadia Bolz-Weber then to have her personally sign one of my books for me. I patiently waited in the line then like a giddy school girl made my way to one of the reception tables while I came back to earth. As I sat there, I spied a woman across the room sitting on a couch surrounded by some folks who obviously thought the world of her. I shamelessly went to get more water just so I could peek at the button she was wearing. It said boldly, "FREE MOM HUGS!" I went back to my table and worked on my courage to approach her. I had no idea that she would become a daily influence in my life.<br />
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Sara is a driving force behind the FREE MOM HUGS movement for LGBTQ kids who need a hug. She goes to all kinds of places and actively advocates for these kids! She lives her passion, daily. I admire and respect her while I have only met her once. Today she posted the following with a picture of beautiful "rainbow" adorned folks:<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">A word on the importance of a support group. Years ago when I first found a private online FB group for moms with LGBTQ kids a young mother entered the group with </span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #666666; display: inline; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">"I just found out my child is gay. I don't know how to pray anymore, I don't know how to breathe." 250 moms chime in saying "THEN DON'T. YOU LET US PRAY, YOU LET US BREATHE FOR YOU." Find your tribe. Let them pour into and lift you up until you find your wings.</span></span></i></blockquote>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mlNo0kSJrUU/W0T2LnAixJI/AAAAAAABEQE/UmcUF5L7EC0rBXQINdxTKuUw_SzQivHoACKgBGAs/s1600/20180627_151211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mlNo0kSJrUU/W0T2LnAixJI/AAAAAAABEQE/UmcUF5L7EC0rBXQINdxTKuUw_SzQivHoACKgBGAs/s200/20180627_151211.jpg" width="150" /></a><i><b><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">You let us pray, you let us breathe for you. </span></b></i> </div>
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That sums up the life of Christ in a simple and pure way; doing for and serving one another. I often tell friends and family members that I will pray for them. It's not cliche or something said lightly, <b>I pray.</b> Sometimes in my comfy chair or my couch and others in the shower, on my knees or driving down the road. Most of the time when I'm quiet I'm talking to God or waiting for His word or direction. When I ask you to pray for me, I expect that you'll find your sacred place and cry out to God on my behalf<br />
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There was a popular christian song many years ago, "Love in any Language" and it so applies today. Love in any language, love in any color, love in any neighborhood, love in any place we inhabit. It's so important that we mingle in and amongst the masses-the least, the last, the lost, the confused, the drunk, the abusers, the cheaters, the liars whomever they may be and show love and service for when they look at us it's not our faces they'll see but the love that He lived. Love and service should be the real mark of the followers of Christ, not just a cross remembering where he died. People flocked to Jesus, not for the cross on his neck or embroidered on his clothing it was for the easy way he spoke in stories and parables of acceptance, love and forgiveness. Every day of mine ends with the prayer, "Lord help me to do a better job tomorrow being your hands and feet. AMEN" Sara C. you're an inspiration. From now on when someone asks me to pray, exhausted or overwhelmed with more than they can bear alone, I will whole hardheartedly say, "you heal, you seek your shalom and I will pray for you, I will breathe for you until you find your wings." Beautiful, my heart feels full. Shalom<br />
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<br />DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-65357899748737199722018-06-08T19:34:00.002-05:002018-06-08T19:55:12.826-05:00LivingThe last week has brought us two celebrity suicides. The world was shocked that Kate and Anthony both suffered in silence with depression. I read a <a href="https://readbloomjoy.com/2018/06/06/womans-facebook-post-about-kate-spade-mental-illnesses/" target="_blank">blog</a> today that eloquently expressed the words I was searching for in my own heart...this woman knew so many things about Kate Spade yet she didn't know she suffered from depression. "Why is it any of my business or yours to know? It doesn't have to be, of course. But I knew when Patrick Swayze was battling pancreatic cancer. I know that Cynthia Nixon is a breast cancer survivor. I know that Selena Gomez has lupus and recently had a kidney donated. I know that Dave Letterman suffers from heart disease. I know that Lance Armstrong is a testicular cancer survivor....somehow society has made it more acceptable to talk about breasts and testicles than about the mind and the chemicals and hormones it releases and controls and the messages it relays." ~Claudia Herrara<br />
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I was horrified when Robin Williams <strike>took his own life </strike> died due to complications from his disease, depression. He died because the medications, the counseling, the therapy, the success as an actor, the house, the wife, none of it spoke louder than that part that said, "you're not good enough," or "you're not funny enough," or perhaps it screamed to him "you're a failure." The stigma that runs rampant in our society is that only those who are weak suffer from depression and/or if they really tried they could just "snap" themselves out of it. We run to the doctor with every sniffle, scrape and ache but we want to criticize those who admit or we ourselves deny that we too suffer from depression.<br />
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Eleven years ago I was in a bad place mentally. A really bad place that found me in my backyard with a butcher knife pressed against my wrist wishing I had the courage to draw it across and drain the life from my worthless body. I had made some bad decisions and felt trapped like the only way out was death. Fortunately, I have an incredible husband who chooses every day to love me, in spite of my many flaws. Through his anger, he arrived like my knight in shining armor and held me in his arms. Forgiveness and healing came slowly. Medications, therapy and lots of work to cancel out the demons that had seeped into my mind. The brain isn't like the other organs in your body, there is so much the doctors just don't understand. They can identify the areas of our brain responsible for body functions but the *thing* the *spark* that makes us human is still a mystery that belongs to God.<br />
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This morning, a dear friend who has overcome unimaginable things in her life shared this:<br />
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my gut reaction was horrible guilt. Guilt because I am guilty of putting on a face and pretending like everything is just fine when in reality I'm falling apart inside. Pretending to participate in a conversation when in reality I am so consumed and overwhelmed with my own "stuff" running through my head I can't even think straight let alone follow what the conversation is saying. I am often embarrassed and avoid groups because I don't want them to see exactly how stressed I have become. I pretend to my children, my husband, my parents, my friends....on the outside I have a smile, the cutest Chaco's, an adorable dog and kids who are just about as close to perfect as any kids can come but inside I am a swirling mess of emotions. I doubt myself as a parent and homeschool teacher, I doubt myself as a wife, I doubt myself as a caregiver and as a friend. <br />
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I.am.depression.</div>
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I.AM.depression.</div>
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I.AM.DEPRESSION.</div>
There, I've typed it and published it on the internet so it must be true, it IS true. I don't look for your sympathy, or for you to say, "poor Dana, she's got a mental health problem." NO! I want you to say, "look how strong and courageous Dana is, she's got so much shit to deal with in her life and here she is LIVING it! She has depression and she's facing it head on. She has sought out help from her doctor (thanks Lauren) and has learned skills and looked for help to cope with the challenges she faces." Let's start applauding people for LIVING, for opening up about their depression. Let's celebrate the fact that while LIVING is absolutely the hardest things to do most days people with depression are still doing it. Let's give them a party for their strength, courage and conviction to fight their demons, the ones no one else can see but are still oh so real!<br />
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I"m going to do better about being an actor. Two things happened in the last two days that almost sent me into a tailspin. Fist, I blog here at Always Crazy Blessed and another at Damn Dementia. Someone laughed at me for blogging then really laughed at the title of my other blog. I very calmly responded with why it's called Damn Dementia while inside the self doubt started...the negative thoughts about what a fool I am to even attempt to share my thoughts and feelings here and really, really foolish on my private blog. The next morning at breakfast I was met with a "how are your parents?" Really? My Dad suffers from vascular dementia & Alzheimer's and my Mom suffers from Alzheimer's...slowly, one memory at a time they are leaving. With each turn of the calendar pages I see changes and lose pieces of them that I'll never see again. The puzzle that is their life will never again be complete. They slip away and we wait...we wait for the inevitable during which we suffer their loss, they become different people and we are strangers to the people who were the heroes of our youth...our teachers, our mentors, our parents who loved us unconditionally and now yell at us, belittle us and treat us like trash. The people speaking to me couldn't have know because I always am a talented actor, I put on my happy face and pretend that everything is okay.<br />
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I went to my 70's style room and slept...around 4 hours yesterday and another 1 1/2 today. I blogged on my DD site, went into Little Rock and did some walking around stores then came back feeling incredibly refreshed and capable of living and maybe just maybe I might be up to some socializing and conversation tomorrow!<br />
<br />
For many reasons, I will not post this blog publicly. After they are gone, perhaps I will be able to make it public and share...for now, if you've read this message please know YOU are important to me. I value my relationship with you and I'm honored to count you as a strong member of my <strike>tribe</strike> family. Thank you for reading this and thank you for always praying for me and for just being you!!!<br />
<br />
Shalom<br />
<br />DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-80317448837291558422018-04-28T16:31:00.001-05:002018-04-28T16:39:05.268-05:00Solidarity with Jesus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A few weeks ago I had a normal Saturday in the Hope
household. The four of us headed out in different directions as I ran my
Mom in another! Our lives are generally a whirlwind so today was no exception.<br />
<br />
As the Mom, my wants and needs are something I generally put squarely
underneath the wants, needs and demands of everyone else. Between running for
everyone, I had the opportunity to spend a whopping TWO HOURS at a ladies UMW
spring retreat. I hadn't read the book, I didn't even know what it was supposed
to be about because I knew that I want going to attend. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Living as a covenant community. </i><o:p></o:p></div>
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What's that even mean? How about some modern day
English? I know God made covenants with us like the whole rainbow in the
clouds thing and not flooding us to oblivion again but what does it mean <u>today</u>?
I'm pretty sure community is all of us. I remember singing a song as a little
kid, “red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight-Jesus
loves the little children of the world.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then Reverend Pamela began saying some things that I feel
really strongly about. Specifically, “Jesus came in the flesh so we can
learn to be fleshy people...fleshy people who love everyone!” I quickly opened
a note on my phone so I could remember the things she was saying. (I hope she
didn't just think I was texting!)<o:p></o:p></div>
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"Nothing can separate us from the love of Jesus, <b><i><u>so
nothing should stop us from loving everyone!”</u></i></b> THIS!! This is
exactly what we need to be yelling from the rooftops. Loving everyone should
be the easy part because that's really the bottom line of why Jesus came and
what he has tried to teach us. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We get so caught up in rules. You should do this, you
shouldn't do this. As Methodists we have a rule book called the
Discipline but you know what? None of us can "do" all the
discipline any more than we can "do" all the bible...but you know
what we can all do? We can forgive, we can love. <i>Solidarity with Jesus.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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Being together whether as a family, neighborhood, church or
community, being “in covenant” means we learn to give a little
sometimes. When we just take and expect our way all the time the covenant
is broken. Learning to give is just the right thing to do. Give doesn't just
mean things to others it also means, as John Wesley said, "we don't have
to live alike to love alike..." seeing past our differences to find common
ground. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The covenants from Jesus were written in the nail scars
through his hands to the <b>community </b>NOT the Christians. Through his
parables he was trying to show us how to forgive, how to love how to get along
with one another. As a people, our covenant should be with one another <i>and</i>
also with the community. Jesus' primary covenant is, “I love you," we
should strive to have <i>solidarity with Jesus </i>by saying I love you to the
least, the last, the lost, the conservatives, the liberals, the republicans,
the democrats, the LBGTQ, the divorced, the Muslim, the Jew, the
Christians...everyone.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-50601284219964335142018-03-06T17:19:00.001-06:002018-03-07T08:24:18.030-06:00Spite<div style="text-align: center;">
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I wanted to make sure you heard it in your mind now say it out loud. <br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">SPITE</span></b> </div>
It just sounds like a cold and ugly word when it leaves your lips.<br />
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<i><b>Spite when used as a noun means a malicious,</b></i></div>
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<i><b> usually petty, desire to harm, annoy,</b></i></div>
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<i><b> frustrate, or humiliate another person; </b></i></div>
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<i><b>bitter ill will; malice. </b></i></div>
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<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
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To the best of my knowledge there is never a positive spin to spite. Spite is the anti- to what my Jesus taught: mercy & compassion, love & forgiveness. I haven't blogged this upset in a long time but I am striving to control the spite that is swirling inside of me, praying for the strength to keep it a fleeting moment, a noun, a feeling and never let it come to the surface to become a verb-an action, a harm. I thought perhaps if I poured my feelings out here then I could....let the feeling pass. </div>
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Let me clarify. I am fine, really I am. I just have to get this out. Spite got the best of someone I love. Someone who knew and loved me before I was even born. The feelings of spite led her to share a confidence without even realizing that I wasn't the only one that would be hurt. The one on the listening side now feels betrayed, unwanted, confused and even angry....hurt with knowledge they can't comprehend. I have to believe in my heart that she never planned her act of spite to do anything more than hurt me. Forgiveness must be my only action. </div>
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When we act out of spite we have no idea who might get hurt in the process. So the damage is done, I am hurt but not so much for me but for the unintended recipient of bitter ill will. The only thing I know to do is forgive-unless I forgive I can't help others heal. Right now all I want is healing and deep shalom.</div>
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Often when I lie awake at night so many thoughts fill my head. I find that I rely on the serenity prayer to help center my spirit and relieve myself of feeling I am responsible for everything. Today a dear friend shared a meme and it struck a chord with me. I think when I'm stressed and unable to sleep this will be my new prayer!</div>
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...change the one I can</div>
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...wisdom to know it's me </div>
<br />
Yes, I need to be the one to change (my mindset) because I cannot change (the behavior of) others. My mom always said that we need to be like ducks. Have you ever seen a duck in the rain? Its feathers are incredibly made by a God who knew exactly what they'd need, the rain just beads up and rolls right off. <b>The rain just beads up and rolls right off</b>...I'll let this roll off me for I am insignificant. I can do nothing to prevent the spite that others feel toward me but I can forgive and I can help heal. Thanks for listening. I think I found that shalom.</div>
DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-81022674970584329532018-03-01T10:51:00.002-06:002018-03-06T10:34:26.977-06:00From Legion to BelovedA little after three this morning, I heard a cat. Not just any old cat but a pissed off cat. (Potty words aren't my favorite but I'm a believer they are just words. Used here to convey to you what the cat sounded like.) I laid there and listened for a while trying to convince myself it wasn't Bandit in the house hurt or stressed. I couldn't do it and I stumbled out of bed, causing the dog to give a sleepy "bruhh." I make it to the living room and realize the rabbit is uncovered, the aquariums need water so even if a cat was crying I'd never hear it. I squinted my eyes, we all know that helps you see in the dark, and I saw a black blob at the end of the hall. I was satisfied that Bandit was sleeping in the hall and I must have been dreaming. I fell back into bed and for the next 30 minutes the dog was whine-purring in her kennel because I disturbed her and surely as the night is long I could hear the faint screeches off and on of a pissed off cat <b>outside</b>!<br />
<br />
As I lay there begging for sleep to return I felt the paragraph above began to form. Now why in the world would I feel led to share with you my middle of the night cat tales??? I laid there whispering to myself and God prayers from my Wednesday night girls, from church on Sunday, from Facebook friends and family. Eventually I drifted back off somewhere between a prayer and amen.<br />
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It seems my last few blogs have had a similar weaving-mercy, compassion, mental health. Let's face it, mercy and compassion go hand in hand with mental health. When I woke this morning and opened Facebook I was confronted with a status complete with pictures, when I saw the pictures I smiled because it was a familiar face of a warm, loving individual. When I read the post, my stomach lurched because it was news that the familiar face is gone. His life cut short because the dark places took over the joy and light. I share this not for personal sympathy because my sadness is nothing compared to his family, his tribe and those who loved him deeply. I share today because that damn cat story. <i>It's not about a cat at all. It's about listening deeply and acting-mercy and compassion.</i><br />
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Last night I had an awesome devotion activity planned, my girls decided we should wait because we were missing three "usuals." So I quickly shifted gears and we talked about Lent, they all shared things they'd given up-chocolate, candy, etc. I encouraged them to reflect back to Valentine's Day when I shared my blog I'd written for them and we decided we all needed to "take on" more mercy and compassion for the remainder of Lent. I learned they all ride the bus. I'm not a bus driver but I can imagine it's a special calling to be responsible for a bus load of children, transporting them safely at least twice per day. I encouraged them to at least once a week for the next four weeks to SEE their bus driver and say a thank you for getting me to school/home safely. It's not just the bus driver it's the kid in the hall who gets picked on or worse yet goes through their days unnoticed and unspoken to by their peers. It's the person teetering on the edge of dark who needs a ray of light to help them see their worth and keep them from slipping over the edge.<br />
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<i>I can't count the times someone comes to my heart and I whisper a prayer. Sometimes I feel a particular tugging to send them a text, call them or write a quick note to drop in the mail. <u>Usually I listen, last time I didn't. <b>Now, it's too late.</b></u></i><br />
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It seems the world is having far too many "too late" moments. I've seen over and over some variation of this saying:<br />
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I know I've shared this saying before but it is so worth repeating. Yesterday evening, I had planned to attend a class on prayer at FUMC. I had talked to the leader and he said it was fine for me to join late. I walked to the room ready to go in and I couldn't. I was paralyzed with fear, I could see him through the windows of the Gathering Room, talking with the participants who were eagerly listening and learning. I couldn't bring myself to interrupt and walk in. I quickly turned and went to my car where I began reading his book. I have to admit, I skipped to the 2.28 devotion and devoured it. I then continued on to read the introduction for week 3. I've heard the story of Legion many, many times...below is the text conversation with my Anna because I had to share the perspective I'd read.</div>
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From "<a href="https://read.amazon.com/kp/embed?asin=B077ZH8CHB&preview=newtab&linkCode=kpe&ref_=cm_sw_r_kb_dp_y1cMAbYV2ESQR" target="_blank">An Audience of One</a>" by Rev. Eric Meyer "When Jesus met Legion, Legion had allowed his demons to become his identity." Today I encourage you, send that text, make that call, write that letter when your heart is tugged. Let the love of Jesus shine through your actions, perhaps your light can help turn a Legion back into a Beloved. ~shalom Beloved!</div>
DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-40171822420325203602018-02-20T19:11:00.000-06:002018-02-22T21:57:00.336-06:00Let Your Light Shine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Today I experienced a broken heart.</i></div>
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<i>It wasn't anything from a loved one. It wasn't anything personal.</i></div>
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<i>I feel strangely moved in a way I never thought possible.</i></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;"> Mercy & </span></i></b><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Compassion</span></i></b> </div>
Those are my words for Lent 2018. It's kind of funny because when I shared my excitement over looking at Lent through the lens of mercy & compassion that Jesus showed to us with my oldest daughter she had an interesting reply. "So momma are you adding your name to the list you plan to show more mercy & compassion to?" I'm not necessarily strong in the area of self compassion, I tend to carry an unnecessary amount of feeling responsible for things not my fault and feeling like I don't do enough for those I love. My compassion for others generally flows freely from my heart and I thought I did pretty good until I went to the Bentonville Homeless gathering and then heard the Ash Wednesday service offered by Rev. Eric Meyer at FUMC. Both had a similar tone about seeing others from the panhandler at your exit, the lady who is your waitress at your favorite spot, or other regular service provider. Seeing them, acknowledging their existence, a warm smile, a kind word...no one expects you to solve their problems, simply show them the same mercy and compassion that Jesus through his actions and stories strived to teach us!<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VoDSL4vHKWU/Woy9IOsEFaI/AAAAAAAA-fk/rSwK6f_PeKsHrQjKFDfcMOJlSQQUc3BIgCLcBGAs/s1600/Merry%2Bgo%2Bround.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>Today I had a rare opportunity. I accompanied someone on a visit to the OU Medical Center Campus in Oklahoma City. Specifically the third floor of the G. Rainey Williams Pavillion-this is the area dedicated to psychiatry and behavioral sciences for children and adults. We walked through the heavy door and I immediately felt very uneasy, I felt like I had stepped into a movie<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VoDSL4vHKWU/Woy9IOsEFaI/AAAAAAAA-fk/rSwK6f_PeKsHrQjKFDfcMOJlSQQUc3BIgCLcBGAs/s1600/Merry%2Bgo%2Bround.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="375" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VoDSL4vHKWU/Woy9IOsEFaI/AAAAAAAA-fk/rSwK6f_PeKsHrQjKFDfcMOJlSQQUc3BIgCLcBGAs/s200/Merry%2Bgo%2Bround.jpg" width="150" /></a> setting the walls, floors and ceilings were all white. The check-in ladies were behind glass window across from an expansive desk. We were directed to a waiting room that was smaller than my living room with a dozen chairs, a table, a water dispenser and a coffee pot. The only decoration was a wooden hutch with glass that had some various old psychiatric medical tools and books. There were none of the comforts of the waiting rooms I have become accustomed to such as essential oils being diffused, comforting music, soothing paintings on the wall or windows with a glimpse of the outdoors. I live a very sheltered life. It was very clinical, I couldn't even find a picture online of a waiting room to compare it with. Just off the waiting room was a room where every patient had their vitals checked so the chairs were a merry go round. <br />
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Last week I shared with you about kids needing compassion and how much my Wednesday night girls are on my heart for the burdens they carry and the struggles they face. My heart wept today with seeing so many children with struggles as part of their lives. I beg of you-<i>our children need mercy, they need compassion</i>-<u><b>desperately</b></u>! Where you have children in your life smile at them, be patient with them and see them. If you can volunteer with kids in your community, please do. There are so many opportunities: 4-H, Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, Boys & Girls Club, little league, schools, churches, the list goes on and on. Reach out and strive to be the spark that ignites a flame. You might just make a difference in a life and prevent....darkness. God has a plan for every life, he desires nothing more than each and every life to be filled with joy and happiness-light.</div>
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As a community, let's work together for mental health changes so people whose worlds fall apart can have better things fall together!<br />
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<i>“Sometimes things fall apart so that better things can fall together.” ~Marilyn Monroe</i> </div>
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<br />DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-78913711717968442502018-02-14T12:36:00.000-06:002018-02-14T12:49:52.560-06:00Mercy<br />
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Today is my favorite day of the year...Ash Wednesday! That may seem a bit odd when most would answer with Christmas, birthday, anniversary or other equally momentous day. I look forward to Ash Wednesday with the anticipation young children have for Christmas. When I was young, this day didn't even register as a blip on my radar so why is it so significant to me? It's not just today, it's what today represents--the beginning of Lent, 40 days which might not seem like much but those 40 days can be transformational.<br />
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Last night moments before 11, I drifted off to sleep flat on my back; when I woke at 4:57 a.m. I was in the same position as was the blanket and pillows. I hadn't moved. By some miracle, I was wide awake and felt extremely refreshed. I woke with a clarity that surprised me as I was "zapped" with visions (for lack of a better word) of a family who needs a prayer today and a friend who is having surgery today. I spent some time praying and listening. Words began to flood through my mind for this blog entry and I felt compelled to begin writing and reading about Ash Wednesday and Lent trying to come up with the perfect words to relay to you why today is so important to me. I came across this word describing the season of Lent: <i><b>MERCY</b></i>! I've always felt that Lent was a time of preparation, self denial, self sacrifice, and reflection for Jesus' ultimate death and resurrection-an almost somber time with great celebration at the end! But mercy...mercy is what it is really about. God through his Son showing the most incredible act of compassion and forgiveness<b><i>~mercy~</i></b>when it was within His almighty power to punish instead.<br />
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For a few months now I've been meeting at FUMC Bentonville on Wednesday evenings with a group of dynamic young ladies. I've always said I "don't like kids" but these ladies are different. They talk, share, eagerly listen and seem to absorb information (and text their grandma's) every week!! <i>While I may be their adult leader it is really they who have taught me. </i>As they allow me glimpses into their daily lives, friendships and families I have the opportunity to realize just how different life really is for teenagers today. As adults we tend to minimize the struggles teens face and suggest our own teenage years were far more trying. Until you sit in a room with kids every week and listen to their stories you have no idea! These kids need Ash Wednesday and Lent!!!! They <b>need</b> mercy!!! The weight that rests upon these sweet shoulders is more than many adults could carry. As parents, teachers, leaders and mentors we need to strive to show compassion to the teens in our lives. When the teens are short with us, tired, frustrated, withdrawn, acting out, etc. maybe instead of punishing them we need to look deeper and look for the real answer. Grades, bullying, peer pressure, drugs, alcohol, making the team-choir-orchestra, being the best and even living up to OUR expectations are all creating a huge amount of stress on our kids. <b><i><u><span style="color: red;">I know I am guilty.</span></u></i></b> If God/Jesus/Holy Spirit could show compassion to all of humanity then surely we can show mercy to those we love.<br />
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This isn't the first year I've been compelled to blog on Ash Wednesday or about Lent. (You can read them <a href="http://www.alwayscrazyblessed.com/2013/02/lentits-not-just-in-your-belly-button.html" target="_blank">here</a> or <a href="http://www.alwayscrazyblessed.com/2017/02/" target="_blank">here</a>.) My young ladies have no idea how much they are on my heart every day. We have been learning each week about influential woman from the bible-Deborah and her STRENGTH, Puah & Shiphrah with their BRAVERY, Martha & Mary reminding us while WORK is important it is also vital that we LISTEN & LEARN, Esther who was very QUICK WITTED to save her people, Priscilla who shows us that TACT is an important means of communication, and RUTH-oh sweet Ruth with her LOVE and DEVOTION. This week we are going to do something just a little bit different, I am writing letters to my young ladies because I am honored each week to be influenced by a modern day Deborah, Puah/Shiphrah, Mary, Martha, Esther, Ruth and Priscilla! In their honor my Lenten goal for transformation is to be more merciful-to my Handsome husband, my beautiful Angel girls, my parents, my siblings, my extended family, friends and even strangers.<br />
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<br />DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-8183032835690038262018-02-01T12:18:00.000-06:002018-02-01T14:10:15.835-06:00Your assignment...<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"When I look at who I am, I have to look at who you are. </i><br />
<i>If you</i><i> are hurting, I am hurting. </i></div>
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<i>We are community."</i><br />
<i>~D. Martin</i></div>
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Facebook sometimes a faithful friend, sometimes a nemesis. A few weeks ago I saw a post when it was bitterly cold showing pictures of a homeless camp right here in Bentonville! This is the text accompanying the pictures:<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Today I am feeling disgust , anger, sadness and fed up. Friends in Bentonville we must demand a change in our community! We have an awesome Salvation Army on I st. Did you know that it must be below 29 degrees for the shelter to open during the day?! Did you know it must be below 34 degrees for the shelter to open the overflow for anyone to stay?! Did you know WE don't have a day shelter in BENTONVILLE?! Did you know the closest bus stop to the shelter is 1.3 miles?! Did you </span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">know I have an awesome 78 yr old MOM ?! My mom has two homeless boys she has devoted her life to over the past couple of years. My mom can hardly access our mental health system to get what these boys need. My mom has the flu but took in one of her boys for a few days while he got over a chest cold. She had 4 meetings scheduled for them this week trying to fight for disability, housing and mental health. One lived with her for a year and she fought to get the system to assist him during that time. Craziness!!! Bentonville friends we need a day shelter with mental health and housing social workers. We are a community that is ignoring what people need if they are to be productive! I have attached photos of a BENTONVILLE homeless camp. </span></i></span><br />
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It quickly went viral and soon there was a group wanting to know what they could do. The woman who posted and a few of her friends set up an event to better inform and collect some supplies for the homeless. I was one of the horrified community members who eagerly attended and listened. I was shocked to learn that so far in this school year over 500 Bentonville kids have experienced homelessness at some point. I heard stories about actual families who have gone from having homes to being homeless. I learned about kids and families who "couch hop" sleeping in homes of friends and acquaintances to get by. I was almost overwhelmed thinking there was nothing I could do to help these people and feeling a bit guilty that I didn't feel a huge tug to get in there and work to conquer the homeless situation. </div>
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Debbie, from Havenwood spoke first and last, in her closing she shared a saying she'd heard, "God gives you two things that are unique to you and that no one can take from you. He gives you your name and your assignment. Each one is different and unique and no one can do the assignment the way it was designed but you." She closed by encouraging us to find our assignment regardless of where it is and do it to the best of our ability.</div>
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Finding my assignment, well here I am at 48 and other than being a wife and mom I'm not really sure what my assignment is yet. I took a course on becoming a death doula, while it was great and I'm very encouraged by the work they do, at this point in my life I'm not emotionally capable. I've volunteered in a variety of areas in our community and felt fulfilled but not really passionate. What is wrong with me?</div>
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Before Christmas I ran across something, again in my Facebook newsfeed, I saw this ad:</div>
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I went to the site and read about it and promptly went on about my day. Later it was there in my newsfeed again. I visited Google and Amazon reading reviews and felt led to buy a copy for me and one for my oldest daughter. A few weeks ago, I set out to begin the adventure of finding my Wonder Life and I couldn't do it alone. I noticed that they have online support communities and strongly encourage in person groups so I searched for one here in my town because I really wanted a personal connection.</div>
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For some reason I felt led to share a link to this book with a friend. You know what? She BOUGHT a copy! She's going to share it with the ladies at our church so we can have our own little "wonder group!" I'm really excited and looking forward to finding my <b><i>crazy blessed</i></b> assignment!!</div>
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<i>"If we all gave people access to our excess, together we could make a huge difference in the world." J. Bachmayer</i></div>
DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-37217432626465836492017-10-17T13:47:00.000-05:002017-10-17T13:47:34.433-05:00AlikeOur youngest daughter shoots competitively...BB guns, .22, shotgun, muzzleloader, etc. Last night was the huge fundraising banquet for the kids. The people in our club come from all walks of life and they're all <i><u>good people</u></i>. As parents we have the opportunity to be on our feet all evening at different places working to make things run smoothly. Of course that provides the chance for us to talk and get to know know another a little bit better. I'm known at the club as the "liberal." The one who voted for Hillary. It was no surprise that for my shoe choice last night I selected my Pride Chuck Taylor's! I mean, who really looks at your feet; it's my small way to show my belief. Last night I had two conversations that really stood out and both reminded me exactly how <b><i>crazy blessed</i></b> I am!<br />
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The first conversation began very casually because our kids attend a local church youth group together and I understood their family had left the church (that particular congregation has posted the "no guns" signs). This parent went on to explain that it wasn't just the no guns but it was also the fact that said congregation was too "liberal" in their teaching and beliefs. They went on to explain all the things they disagreed with. I stood there listening with the occasional "yeah," "uh-huh," or "that must have been really hard for you." After finishing, they asked about my church, my response was, "if their church was too liberal for you then you probably shouldn't stop at our church." I casually stuck out my foot and glanced down at my shoes, he responded with "Oh, I see." I don't think any less of this parent, I simply reserve the right to believe differently.<br />
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The next conversation was a little different. This parent mentioned that they had been on the road during their Sunday services so they listened to the live stream. Their pastor had spoken based on a passage in Acts, he told his congregation that, "if we as Christians are better known for what we are against or who we don't like or things we disagree with than who we help or what we do for our community or how we love others there is a problem." I chuckled in total agreement. We can raise our children to be positive, Godly people without them being derogatory or hateful to anyone. We continued to visit about respecting differences and loving all, striving to quietly live so when others see Jesus in us, they'll want the peace, love and joy (shalom even) that we have in our lives.<br />
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I love these folks, <b>alike</b>. We continued to spend the rest of the evening working, <b>alike</b>. We will journey toward our common goal, <b>alike</b>. We will be good, honest, hardworking people, <b>alike</b>. In the end, it's not about liberal, progressive, conservative, democrat, tea party, republican, black, white, gay, straight, Baptist, Methodist, Muslim, Jew or any other descriptions that emphasize our differences. It is about the fact <b><i>we are humanity</i></b>, persons all living together on this planet, finding commonality in our differences and accepting we all have the right to exist...coexist. If we're here together we should strive to love, even when we don't believe alike. We are all <b><i>crazy blessed</i></b>, <b>alike</b>.<br />
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"Our world is like a puzzle, if we don't accept the differences between us...we will never be able to achieve peace."<br />
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<br />DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-50429844705011440732017-05-02T11:46:00.000-05:002017-05-02T12:01:21.639-05:00Too Much Jesus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I know, I know...you're probably thinking there's no way you can have too much Jesus! You're probably right. Just give me a few minutes to explain my phraseology and perhaps then you'll understand.<br />
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This weekend I was crazy blessed to attend the memorial services for my cousin, Susie Been. <br />
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Somehow attending her services really drove home to me the fact that I know many of my friends far better than I know most of my relatives. Some of my relatives I know very well, I'm pretty sure the face they show me is far different than the face their friends see. I'm left wondering which is the real them....Susie was my friend on Facebook, I saw her a couple of times a year but that's it. I loved her lots and always thought she was a fabulous, generously loving and genuinely kind individual. When the pastor opened up for personal eulogies, I was so excited to hear people express sentiments about the exact same Susie that I knew!! She was an amazing woman and when you looked at her you felt the face of Jesus in her every action and word. She lived up to the challenge of being His hands and feet here on earth.<br />
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It seems anymore that "Jesus" is somewhat trendy. You see crosses on everything from ripped jeans and phone cases to dog leashes and water bottles. People are wearing Jesus everywhere but somehow I don't see His face in very many of them. I'm honestly not meaning to judge but let me give you an example of missing his face in spite of 'too much Jesus.' A few years ago we were on a homeschool field trip with a religious homeschool group (I usually avoid them like the plague). This particular field trip involved several hundred students from homeschool and public school. It was a great day and the venue had worked hard establishing the groups and how we would cycle through them. My kids dipped candles, washed clothes on a washboard, sat in an old fashion one room school room, learned about some time period work trades, etc. The negative of the day was NOT the public school kids, who all really know how to stand in a line and follow directions, it WAS the one mom from the homschool group with "too much Jesus." Her ringtone was Our God Is An Awesome God and her ringer was on super loud, it must've rang a dozen times that day. Each time it was in her Jesus bling purse and she had to dig for it pretending each time to apologize. Each time interrupting a speaker or presentation, her circle of friends acted like it was just fine-I was mortified as a homeschool mom and as a christian.<br />
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When Jesus roamed this earth, he didn't have a giant "J" bedazzled on his robe or demand lots of rubles for his time . His followers didn't sport "team Jesus" on their sandals. After He died for us, they didn't tattoo a cross on their arm or brand one onto their donkeys' ass. They lived and breathed the message, they were his hands and feet. They did for others quietly and almost anonymously. <br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j2ehLegG1Dw/WQi0oyAcCnI/AAAAAAAAy5I/rrTAXW5_pNQQULIYPZsg7HOC-xYg24-5QCLcB/s1600/Handicap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j2ehLegG1Dw/WQi0oyAcCnI/AAAAAAAAy5I/rrTAXW5_pNQQULIYPZsg7HOC-xYg24-5QCLcB/s200/Handicap.jpg" width="175" /></a>Back to Susie's services. The pastor, Brother Been was 97 and has been leading that particular Pentecostal church for 67 years! Each sentence ended with an amen or a hallelujah; it was a true celebration of life, not preaching her into heaven because she'd done the work herself. Near the end of his message, in a soft voice he said, "We serve a handicapped God." I was stunned. I looked around and there were no strange expressions I thought perhaps no one heard him. He again repeated, "WE SERVE A HANDICAPPED GOD, AMEN?!?!?!" The congregation shouts AMEN and he continues "He relies on us to be his hands and feet, we are humans and the biggest handicap of all!!! Amen....Hallelujah!" Talk about humbling. We who he loves so much handicap him because we fail him every day because we don't do the work of his hands and feet. People look at us and see our bling but does our bling prevent others from seeing his reflection in our hearts.<br />
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One more story, once upon a time I wanted a Jesus fish (Ichthus) on my car-everyone was doing it. You'd see entire fish families. When I expressed my desire to Handsome his response was simple, "Honey you realize that's a big responsibility." ????WHAT do you mean????? "If you have that fish on the car, it's a symbol that you're a Christian-are you willing to drive like a Christian all the time? No speeding, no cutting people off, no gestures?" I realized I wasn't worthy of a Jesus fish on my car because I'm human and there is no way I'm capable of representing his love 24/7-I fail him. I am his handicap.<br />
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Wear your cross, put that fish on your car but remember the most important Jesus you have is the one who lives in your heart-the one that others can only see when you show the same unconditional love he shows you, behaving as the good Samaritan and striving to do the work of his hands and feet until he returns.<br />
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<br />DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6159899606944734853.post-64648214355812204942017-03-07T11:29:00.000-06:002017-03-08T09:27:54.973-06:00Community Garden or Townhouses???***If you have already seen this blog, please scroll to the bottom for an UPDATE***<br />
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Today my heart is heavy and it's really my own fault. There is a strip of land, 2.6 beautiful acres with grass, trees and a drainage "creek" running through it. I've been coveting it for a long time. The other day my Handsome husband asked me if I'd started a campaign or shared my vision with anyone...sadly my answer was no. This is my story, my prayer, my plea.<br />
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I've always been a gardener. Some of my earliest memories are planting seeds and picking fresh veggies from our family garden. A few years ago I first heard about the concept of community gardens and during the last year I've had the opportunity to visit <a href="http://www.tricyclefarms.org/" target="_blank">Tri Cycle Farms</a> in Fayetteville on several occasions for tours and workshops their motto is SHARE 1/3 (with volunteers) GIVE 1/3 (to food pantries) and SELL 1/3 (to sustain the farm). It is an incredible oasis in the middle of a busy area they are striving to reduce food insecurity for persons within a 2-3 mile circle of their location. In my heart, I've been praying for that 2.6 acres that run along Highway 72 (2nd Street) and Elm Tree that some how it would be a community garden. That's where my failure comes in. I have the faith-praying diligently every day but I failed to implement the other part of Christianity-WORKS.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mvL9ZLGE-TE/WL7sUBQvaII/AAAAAAAAyvQ/nMZK_I_p0QoGAYLMBYAVFOFeW5-upqu_QCLcB/s1600/kids%2Bfood%2Binsecurity.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mvL9ZLGE-TE/WL7sUBQvaII/AAAAAAAAyvQ/nMZK_I_p0QoGAYLMBYAVFOFeW5-upqu_QCLcB/s320/kids%2Bfood%2Binsecurity.png" width="320" /></a>Food insecurity is a very real problem. Were you aware that Arkansas has the 2nd highest rate of food insecurity in the United States; 20% of Arkansans don't know where their next meal will come from. And Northwest Arkansas leads the state in food insecurity in Benton & Washington counties 1 in 4 are food insecure. What is food insecurity? It is the state of being without reliable access to a sufficient quantity of affordable, nutritious food. Right here in Benton County there are more than 30 locations you can reach out to if you are in need of food. Our church in Centerton is home to H2O (Help to Others) Food Pantry which serves on average of 175-200 persons EACH WEEK! Half or more are Senior Citizens or Children! When we had a neighborhood food drive a couple of years ago, I was shocked that many of the residents had no idea there was a food pantry in Centerton, let alone the need for one!<br />
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Last year I attended a meeting held at the Benton County Extension Office hosted by Susan Pickle, she was evaluating how her office serves the community currently and reaching out to the community for suggestions of ways they could better serve them. There were people from a variety of walks of life at this meeting-educators, parents, credit counseling, etc. and I learned that there are many families who do not get the free or reduced lunches because they either don't understand the program or they don't want to share their income information to receive the lunches.<br />
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District wide in Bentonville (where the average income is $71,461) the number of children receiving FREE lunches is 3,152 and the number receiving REDUCED cost lunches is 930. The combined total makes up 25% of the number of children enrolled in the Bentonville School District. The "neighborhood" school for the Orchards Subdivision is Ardis Ann Middle School-home to 5th and 6th graders. They have 687 students as of today and 146 of them receive free lunch, another 56 receive lunch at a reduced cost. (More than 25% of the school population) According to the <a href="http://www.usda.gov/" target="_blank">USDA</a><br />
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Any child at a participating school may purchase a meal through the National School Lunch
Program. Children from families with incomes at or below 130 percent of the poverty level are
eligible for free meals. Those with incomes between 130 percent and 185 percent of the poverty
level are eligible for reduced‐price meals, for which students can be charged no more than 40
cents. (For the period July 1, 2013, through June 30, 2014, 130 percent of the poverty level is
$30,615 for a family of four; 185 percent is $43,568 .)</blockquote>
In our community where affluence seems to be the norm we must realize that it isn't! Tonight I am attending a meeting at the Burnett Real Estate Team office located at 1011 N. Walton Blvd. at 6:00pm. about a companies desire to build townhouses at my coveted corner. Wouldn't it be nice if this land could remain natural? Wouldn't it be nice if the children walking home from school could stop in and pick some fresh produce on their way home and pull a few weeds. Giving them a sense of community, a sense of pride, a feeling of ownership.<br />
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I wish I would have gotten busy working to turn this....<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the property at Hwy 72 & Elm Tree</td></tr>
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Into this...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is TriCycle Farm in Fayetteville located at Garland & Sycamore.<br />
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<b style="text-align: center;">****UPDATE****</b><br />
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Yesterday I received this note from a neighbor whose property backs up to the strip mentioned above:</div>
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<span class="notranslate feed-comment-body" style="background-color: #f6f6f6; color: #1e1c1c; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Great blog Dana!! Currently the property is zoned A1 agricultural. The small clump of trees directly behind our home contains an original apple tree from the late 1800's early 1900's. The tree is</span><span style="background-color: #f6f6f6; color: #1e1c1c; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><span style="background-color: #f6f6f6; color: #1e1c1c; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><span class="hide notranslate feed-comment-body" id="comment_all_87619645" style="background-color: #f6f6f6; color: #1e1c1c; display: inline; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">in distress due to overgrowth surrounding it plus a rumor that the previous property owner tried to destroy it. If the tree could be salvaged it would make a fantastic focal point for your community garden idea.</span></blockquote>
Last night at the meeting with the developer, Tim-White Rock Investments and Cody Burnett we learned they are seeking to put 24 townhomes on that tiny property with two entrances on to busy Highway 72! If you are inclined to keep this zoned A1-Agriculture rather than R3-Medium Density Residential, please consider one of the following:<br />
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1. Attending the rezoning meeting on March 21st at 5:00pm held at 305 SW "A" Street, Bentonville<br />
2. Express your opinion in writing to the Planning Commission. You may mail or deliver to the City of Bentonville Planning Department, 305 SW "A" Street, Bentonville, AR 72712<br />
3. Use the form (picture below or I can send to you as a .pdf) to express your opinion by checking the appropriate box. (This may be delivered or mailed to the above address.)</blockquote>
For more information from the City you may call the Planning Department at (479) 271-3122<br />
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DanaAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15534260992599740987noreply@blogger.com2