tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12370847548080484582024-03-04T22:46:37.969-06:00My Corner of the WorldWhich of my photographs is my favorite?
The one I’m going to take tomorrow. Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.comBlogger286125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-88152750502185624392019-07-28T04:30:00.001-05:002019-07-28T04:30:28.342-05:00A Crop-duster<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sometimes I like to head out with the camera in my lap and no destination in mind. Most of the time heading to country roads. Meandering (I like that word.) I turned down one road looking for old barns or houses but found instead something I have wanted to catch with my camera in the past. </div>
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A crop-duster in action. He put on a show.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOsIfJYW4pT0pgBdDAn-qc_0aQeGnpMS9EGsSCQauEJO6UfE9rcSiEFB4LpY2Yjsx9TAiIJIi7JQdx7b1mhDwSvD1EW8Yltf8RJqZK80BTAapchyurpxODZllJj8QKPdK2Pz8SZbgqwrw/s1600/1907__7508464_142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOsIfJYW4pT0pgBdDAn-qc_0aQeGnpMS9EGsSCQauEJO6UfE9rcSiEFB4LpY2Yjsx9TAiIJIi7JQdx7b1mhDwSvD1EW8Yltf8RJqZK80BTAapchyurpxODZllJj8QKPdK2Pz8SZbgqwrw/s640/1907__7508464_142.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIdalsVE__l_O6iwumcqHTroBdeSIC2bVHkKL8WMyWyHIBe7Y7U-sZ6jRAYkwM_rf2J_KIUhdZfRAglACPosj3h7GPssqb8WPGPl8NMRhSvBkS3SVYdVhjtBU04kBqj-p7vdhpabGMNSQ/s1600/1907__7508500_178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIdalsVE__l_O6iwumcqHTroBdeSIC2bVHkKL8WMyWyHIBe7Y7U-sZ6jRAYkwM_rf2J_KIUhdZfRAglACPosj3h7GPssqb8WPGPl8NMRhSvBkS3SVYdVhjtBU04kBqj-p7vdhpabGMNSQ/s400/1907__7508500_178.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The corn was high and covered the whole hillside.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcN4b5aBichm1Z99Ds5KdhVYk6giMAm574d9PCQletq3I4_2twicp6VQYeFUjZPii3tRnnbfSxXj-yLUY8RlgNaWuyQjNDNPrEeevnnAJAwCABXnsEVtRpHbcqkA3_6ltKK72wQcEnPOw/s1600/1907__7508516_194.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcN4b5aBichm1Z99Ds5KdhVYk6giMAm574d9PCQletq3I4_2twicp6VQYeFUjZPii3tRnnbfSxXj-yLUY8RlgNaWuyQjNDNPrEeevnnAJAwCABXnsEVtRpHbcqkA3_6ltKK72wQcEnPOw/s640/1907__7508516_194.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Love finding something like this on the back roads.<br />
<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-80978384686351990562019-04-17T04:37:00.006-05:002019-04-17T04:38:19.254-05:00Yellow Flower Ride<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfczFtHW2I7Y0qCXCs71KHZHPz-g5B7NwOGv090JtCBrp45QizNBOPm4I8IqsATtW6e9PtlhjHtATSUrogYmY6IJHSsOX3xP05_7m_9Inarw_2XUAoqbJ8wRoYrKV4c5AsRTeDTL-HyR4/s1600/1904_DSC02765_004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfczFtHW2I7Y0qCXCs71KHZHPz-g5B7NwOGv090JtCBrp45QizNBOPm4I8IqsATtW6e9PtlhjHtATSUrogYmY6IJHSsOX3xP05_7m_9Inarw_2XUAoqbJ8wRoYrKV4c5AsRTeDTL-HyR4/s640/1904_DSC02765_004.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9aUV0m4t26CnDHp5zJ0m7CUr1SKj8WOq2Rm9sqC7FqZ1oyDq6cftvhwOrR2lKRejakDPrk9vgIwxLuDVjLKwmEOg1a5jrYL3kyNEn3NjxMa_EeAXN774MW8nMhTxx_yJEezLJ4AXrXY/s1600/1904_DSC02774_013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9aUV0m4t26CnDHp5zJ0m7CUr1SKj8WOq2Rm9sqC7FqZ1oyDq6cftvhwOrR2lKRejakDPrk9vgIwxLuDVjLKwmEOg1a5jrYL3kyNEn3NjxMa_EeAXN774MW8nMhTxx_yJEezLJ4AXrXY/s640/1904_DSC02774_013.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="font-kerning: none;">Yesterday was so beautiful I decided to ride Shiloh to take some pictures of a beautiful field of yellow flowers (weeds). As I saddled up I heard a sound I hate. A large tractor coming down the road clearing the ditches. He went by and i was thankful I wasn’t on the road. But I had to make the 1/2 mile ride up the road before he came back. I made it to my turnoff just as he was coming back. Thank you again Lord. I was coming out of the woods to ride the power lines and heard another noise. Two large tractors were cutting my path down the power lines. My quiet ride wasn’t so quiet. I rode around till they got through but suddenly Shiloh was getting more and more upset and wanting to go. I worked with him then realized my large camera was hanging down on his flank and hitting him every step he took. So I had been telling him to slow down and something else telling him to go. Poor horse with a dumb rider. But it was worth it to see the field with the green path down the middle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I finished the ride with a few pictures of some old cars in a yard. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Good horse, good ride.</span></div>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-79612812836338092512016-12-19T05:22:00.002-06:002016-12-19T05:22:35.236-06:00The Doubters<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">From Max Lucado's book-Fearless--What did Jesus do with the doubters in the Upper Room. Luke 24:27 "<i>And beginning with ones and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself." </i>A face to face, put your hand on my wound visit. A meal is served, the Bible is taught and the disciples found courage.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">What would Christ have us to do with our doubts? His answer, touch my body and ponder my story. We still can, you know. We can still touch the body of Christ. When we brush up against the church, we do just that. "<i>The church is his body; it is made full and complete by Christ, who fills all things everywhere with himself."</i> (Eph. 1:23) May others brush up against us and see Jesus!</span>Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-40288718337085739292016-12-07T04:33:00.000-06:002016-12-07T04:34:08.323-06:00Storms We Face<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">From Max Lucado’s book “ Fearless.”</i></div>
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<i>“But the boat was now in the middle of the sea, tossed by the waves…</i> Matt.14:24-32<br />
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Peter and his storm riders knew they were in trouble. <i>“in the middle of the sea, tossed by the waves.</i>” Apt description, perhaps for your stage in life?” The disciples fought for nine hours. Then about 4 AM the unspeakable happened. <i>“They spotted someone coming on the water</i>.” They didn’t expect Jesus to come this way. Neither do we. We expect to see Him in peaceful hymns or Easter Sunday or morning devotionals. </div>
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But it is in a storm that He does His finest work. For it is in storms that He has our keenest attention. Jesus replied to the disciples’ fear with an invitation worthy of inscription on every church cornerstone, “<i>Don’t be afraid, Take courage, I am here.</i>” </div>
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Power inhabits those words. “<i>I am here,</i>” changes everything. Perhaps that’s why God repeats the “I am here” pledge so often.The Lord is near Phi. 4:5; You are in Me and I am in you, John 14:20; I am with you always,, to the very end of the age. Matt. 28:20.</div>
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We cannot go where God is not. Look over your shoulder, that is God following you. Look into the storm; that’s Christ coming toward you. Much to Peter’s credit, he took Jesus at his word. <i>“Lord if it is You, command me to come to You on the water. So He said, Come. And when Peter had come down out of the boat, he walked on the water to go to Jesus.” </i></div>
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Peter never would have made this request on a calm sea. Storms prompt us to take unprecedented journeys. For a few historic steps and heart stilling moments, Peter did the impossible. He defied every law of gravity and nature, he walked on the water to go to Jesus.</div>
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”<i>When Peter saw that the wind was boisterous, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, saying, Lord, save me! </i>Peter shifted his attention away from Jesus and toward the squall, and when he did, he sank like a brick in pond. Give the storm waters more attention than the Storm Walker, and get ready to do the same. Whether or not the storms come, we cannot choose. But we can choose where we focus during a storm. “<i>We must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away from it.” </i>Heb. 2:1. </div>
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Do what it takes to keep your gaze on Jesus. Feed your fears, and your faith will starve. Feed your faith, and your fears will. Lam. 3:22-23 “<i>Because of the Lord’s great love, we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning, great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, the Lord is my portion, therefore I will wait for Him.”</i></div>
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The storm didn’t cease. <i>“Lord, save me</i>!” Peter cried. Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “<i>You of little faith, why did you doubt? And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down.”</i> Jesus could have stilled the storm hours earlier. But He didn’t. He wanted to teach the followers a lesson. Jesus could have calmed your storm long ago too. But he hasn’t. Does he also want to teach you a lesson. Could that lesson read something like this, “Storms are not an option, but fear is?” </div>
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His lesson is clear. He’s the commander of every storm. Are you scared in yours? Then stare at Him. Remember the words, “<i>I am here."</i></div>
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<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-65508733504752087862016-11-20T06:57:00.002-06:002019-08-26T07:24:49.266-05:00Making a Memory in Memphis<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I enjoy spending a day in Memphis and acting like tourist. We went with another couple downtown to take pictures and walk around. Beautiful day with temps in the seventies. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG0N_c-7bV3peNY3xGo4W4aNoQG0SNIB_C8Po3HnbwvHQLKxW2D90LfuGj19hrML3FFpyw3ZPaPifMg-kAPqEnZmyH8ovC5ffLvFGDMuW0LqpbsE-wkvqrJ_ZGYMHxV0NgWnBec9lwbFY/s1600/1611_DSC00725_065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG0N_c-7bV3peNY3xGo4W4aNoQG0SNIB_C8Po3HnbwvHQLKxW2D90LfuGj19hrML3FFpyw3ZPaPifMg-kAPqEnZmyH8ovC5ffLvFGDMuW0LqpbsE-wkvqrJ_ZGYMHxV0NgWnBec9lwbFY/s640/1611_DSC00725_065.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Started off walking across the Mississippi River and back on the new walking bridge. I think a mile and half each way.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Then lunch at Flying Fish and walk about the Peabody. We saw a camera crew filming a reality show for Bravo. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Next to a castle I have read about named Ashler Hall.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKLPDRTdg5JrOjUVbH9fOGZTjslfSxNQCYG_1Wx-ZaJLN2VyL5fukcq-SaiZk1GDcWdtIueWhfA6ZgEWWpAxGlZDvsG79GqM2pbj-HeYWEgXeXcu4fw_LXovhyEDEv9osHPkfWJahOS8/s1600/1611_DSC00760_100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKLPDRTdg5JrOjUVbH9fOGZTjslfSxNQCYG_1Wx-ZaJLN2VyL5fukcq-SaiZk1GDcWdtIueWhfA6ZgEWWpAxGlZDvsG79GqM2pbj-HeYWEgXeXcu4fw_LXovhyEDEv9osHPkfWJahOS8/s640/1611_DSC00760_100.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><strong style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px none; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: start;">Update on Asher Hall--History:</strong><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: start;"> Robert Brinkley Snowden, a prominent Memphis real estate developer, designed this midtown mansion in 1896. Snowden lived in the home until his death in 1942; the property was sold after the death of his wife in 1957. The mansion’s name derives from the term </span><em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px none; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: start;">ashlar</em><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: start;"> used to describe a squared, hewn stone. The house passed through the hands of a series of owners including perennial Memphis mayoral candidate Prince Mongo of Zambodia (Robert Hodges), accumulating blight along the way. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: inherit;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: start;">In November 2018 the press reported the new owner, Juan Montoya, had made progress in repairing the building. He believed the entire renovation might require as much as $400,000. </span>It was once owned by a man Memphis knew well. Prince Mongo. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #363636;">He claims to be the ambassador of the planet of Zambodia and claims to be 333 years old. He fits in fine in Memphis. Even ran for mayor and received votes. The castle is now empty and run down. </span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-size: large;">The owner's brother was there and saw me taking pictures outside of the iron fence. He said you can come in for five minutes and opened the iron gates. I guess he was afraid I would get in those gates and take forever. I hurried and got some shots then he said, come in for 1 minute. Got a few shots inside. Very kind man.</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Next, we rode through Rhodes College Campus. Beautiful buildings for the very liberal </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">elite. I dared my friend to jump out and say, "How about that Trump winning the election?" And then give a thumbs up. She wisely didn't take the bet.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ja7q6-Xuu-sFwtZlXBE1qRTyV3JUY3ujP4G0Bi32y96_dZeojbxziA8rfCtkKs6E0YDy0JbHSYlF6Wjw6cg00oYRMvwpDvG6-0y9GrSpjuWf-EeDz5dYTq4RI0_GxpqW3mIIAUf2OLA/s1600/1611_DSC00776_116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ja7q6-Xuu-sFwtZlXBE1qRTyV3JUY3ujP4G0Bi32y96_dZeojbxziA8rfCtkKs6E0YDy0JbHSYlF6Wjw6cg00oYRMvwpDvG6-0y9GrSpjuWf-EeDz5dYTq4RI0_GxpqW3mIIAUf2OLA/s640/1611_DSC00776_116.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBECqzR7U63Up80hjursM6oq6JwDNuANR7_MaP7oGDpl0GTAmePBZhsGm4o9xGVouX-ORiQq7onEUD9HbwWkLOOF25wLvE1i9a2W6CUUJYd8GFaI-miHQY9-AFq8wFZB0oXa8fhtJtPuE/s1600/1611_DSC00780_120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBECqzR7U63Up80hjursM6oq6JwDNuANR7_MaP7oGDpl0GTAmePBZhsGm4o9xGVouX-ORiQq7onEUD9HbwWkLOOF25wLvE1i9a2W6CUUJYd8GFaI-miHQY9-AFq8wFZB0oXa8fhtJtPuE/s320/1611_DSC00780_120.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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This reminded me of myself.</div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: large;">Next we rode through National Cemetery. Realizing the next day was Veteran's Day, it was a sobering sight to see the lines of graves of those who bravely fought.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidd1XWUHyEmDsf6fuakP94jBMzvbCALdtJuV7VXGbYQI2yOtDidzq8EdrugD_BrFwSEL8FP1_Kk-AgKhj0L7RZBYTkRJVQhdgrhyMh3G7JAMfrEqqoUbrSWS3oGGexPiOsAsjy9C4pBGk/s1600/1611_DSC00802_142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidd1XWUHyEmDsf6fuakP94jBMzvbCALdtJuV7VXGbYQI2yOtDidzq8EdrugD_BrFwSEL8FP1_Kk-AgKhj0L7RZBYTkRJVQhdgrhyMh3G7JAMfrEqqoUbrSWS3oGGexPiOsAsjy9C4pBGk/s640/1611_DSC00802_142.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: large;">We ended the day at the famous Jerry's for a sno-cone that has ice cream mixed up. It was wonderful.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBEgR7diJGLLSJC-LCNiwfa-9XNNFZ8al_qT6sUOHcNezk9Hd2ItHX3v5vt3bZmOIZtpYmcUQ7YnOGMOVAZfxhosxzJuRTYlUjXXI5x7F36i4o1hnhqnYG4iFKttqkX-PGFO2AJgYnXyw/s1600/1611_DSC00870_210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBEgR7diJGLLSJC-LCNiwfa-9XNNFZ8al_qT6sUOHcNezk9Hd2ItHX3v5vt3bZmOIZtpYmcUQ7YnOGMOVAZfxhosxzJuRTYlUjXXI5x7F36i4o1hnhqnYG4iFKttqkX-PGFO2AJgYnXyw/s640/1611_DSC00870_210.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-size: large;">It was the end of a memory making day!</span></div>
Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-26144615008579082142016-11-11T04:47:00.002-06:002016-11-11T05:17:29.333-06:00Today is Veteran's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj96fF3jPvumRFRiAtxHqgt9NDIwVZGH84G4CXrEQylDSxmpz-jHjHFdUGJRz8Tf2msBnTYl_1Y5djSzhU4EecXv0mQBAJKaoQiTHaFNMp4IYEUlbUHC2jco-dfmdYT6EveFv-ZVp8yQQI/s1600/1611_DSC00860_200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj96fF3jPvumRFRiAtxHqgt9NDIwVZGH84G4CXrEQylDSxmpz-jHjHFdUGJRz8Tf2msBnTYl_1Y5djSzhU4EecXv0mQBAJKaoQiTHaFNMp4IYEUlbUHC2jco-dfmdYT6EveFv-ZVp8yQQI/s640/1611_DSC00860_200.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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National Cemetery in Memphis TN<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Today is Veteran's Day</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Yesterday we went to this cemetery looking for a friend's parents' graves. As we walked around, we remembered today is Veteran's Day. What a sobering moment it was to stand in this place and think of the sacrifices that were made for me and my family to be free today. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This week we had the right to vote for leadership and today we have the right to voice our opinion. These graves mark the men and women who fought for that right and I am thankful. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We are free today because of my Lord and veterans who fought for me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I love my country. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"> God Bless America.</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="6vsu1-0-0"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;">"<i>Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends."</i> John 15:13</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJUcLXQ-SLngli7DAcQgxpFFEUMkNesMw8LosKGJAzUd6McV8kKeo-PjOgPc2EzsR6zA-TjmJ6G3KzUdB_2VWi8BYn-4cawLiuAnxFb9Zj1lp4wREUAPjFyHQeELeGqaZWmr8NvsJTLI/s1600/1611_DSC00865_205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJUcLXQ-SLngli7DAcQgxpFFEUMkNesMw8LosKGJAzUd6McV8kKeo-PjOgPc2EzsR6zA-TjmJ6G3KzUdB_2VWi8BYn-4cawLiuAnxFb9Zj1lp4wREUAPjFyHQeELeGqaZWmr8NvsJTLI/s640/1611_DSC00865_205.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Song wrote by Keith Urban called "For You"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">All I saw was smoke and fire I didn’t feel a thing</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">But suddenly I was rising higher</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">And I felt like I just made The biggest mistake</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">When I thought about my unborn child</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">When I thought about my wife</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">And the answer rang out clear</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">From somewhere up above</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">No greater gift has man Than to lay down his life for love</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Maybe you don’t understand I don’t understand it all myself</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">But there’s a brother on my left and another on my right</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">And in his pocket just like mine</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">He’s got a photograph And they’re waiting for him back home</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">It’s weighing on my mind I’m not trying to be a hero</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">I don’t wanna die But right now in this moment, you don’t think twice</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">I wonder, would I give my life</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Could I make that sacrifice?</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">THANK YOU!</span></span></div>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-55788530850865954132016-10-21T21:12:00.000-05:002016-10-21T21:12:08.017-05:00West Tennesse in the Fall<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Just some random pictures of fall days in Tennessee.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHvwF8sV-7jx9HPwTr-ZMj1rJe38C-TVWPUIi5TfKG2774oHQHEWLYFKC8JPYuTHOe4dP3iv_7rjFjuQn8bweu2fbMZ4Lelo7ofBzS6EpMyAsoZ3R4AXgvmSM6rWw-yICJGia6wxtot1M/s1600/1610_DSC00133_126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHvwF8sV-7jx9HPwTr-ZMj1rJe38C-TVWPUIi5TfKG2774oHQHEWLYFKC8JPYuTHOe4dP3iv_7rjFjuQn8bweu2fbMZ4Lelo7ofBzS6EpMyAsoZ3R4AXgvmSM6rWw-yICJGia6wxtot1M/s640/1610_DSC00133_126.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A couple of beautiful but entirely different mornings. First a clear morning with a colorful sunrise. Of course my dogs have to be right in the middle of wherever I am. </div>
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Then another morning so foggy you couldn't see. I went out with intentions of taking a picture of my horse running over the pond levee to the barn for their morning feed. But they were already at the barn waiting impatiently for me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdPlqbjKaR56ayp1RTQ3-kZcZ-tFLCXEeFbTAbvhBFPsIWOCAeFc-C1fjrbIDrwb5lp4OLB-VV-9_53Y86d_sHsvmj2jSC74dA-psgCSyCMnYh9teKhKTO0lxNrSsmk5XhsFi5jwsmsc/s1600/1610_DSC00208_003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdPlqbjKaR56ayp1RTQ3-kZcZ-tFLCXEeFbTAbvhBFPsIWOCAeFc-C1fjrbIDrwb5lp4OLB-VV-9_53Y86d_sHsvmj2jSC74dA-psgCSyCMnYh9teKhKTO0lxNrSsmk5XhsFi5jwsmsc/s640/1610_DSC00208_003.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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So what do I do? I got him and walked him to the other gate on the opposite side and waited for the run. It didn't take long and I am sure he was a little put out with me. He had to go all the way back to where he was just a minute ago!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTDvBo0iRKd7-f7vgb3DtcbF3WwaIPnDqYBjK521bmjvTPipvx33XT6OnR2ANj0yNUtuLIbApTeCJNbJ4Ht5xj3nhhHp11hfPEUdQmFnXOnYRLVS7_x2c6eqKMhrs-yccGxUcFDbpT8NI/s1600/1610_DSC00225_009-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTDvBo0iRKd7-f7vgb3DtcbF3WwaIPnDqYBjK521bmjvTPipvx33XT6OnR2ANj0yNUtuLIbApTeCJNbJ4Ht5xj3nhhHp11hfPEUdQmFnXOnYRLVS7_x2c6eqKMhrs-yccGxUcFDbpT8NI/s640/1610_DSC00225_009-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The next two pictures were taken in the middle of the day. I was driving down a lonely stretch of backroads in the country and I looked and there was a T Rex eating vines in field. Actually it was Kudzu taken over like it usually does.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVOilGtMSXqPws5AwRDehH3egswTps_-GqtXAzOwhyb41uJMCRDsxqkK2ajWi_tCZfBMo9NUr2Jkf4XbYNUZphMDKJhPkKZmlXuUTKhn4TJYoKN3SGOa61X0wckf-TM9g3kM8fwyuGnw/s1600/1610_DSC00525_310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVOilGtMSXqPws5AwRDehH3egswTps_-GqtXAzOwhyb41uJMCRDsxqkK2ajWi_tCZfBMo9NUr2Jkf4XbYNUZphMDKJhPkKZmlXuUTKhn4TJYoKN3SGOa61X0wckf-TM9g3kM8fwyuGnw/s640/1610_DSC00525_310.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZgxCLYaPVrCLABDprpYls6OdOhu91R4F5zpfvI0w_bKwvuCmm-4AWK_q9HZDqPxZ-v3Dh9Df4unkRp-V9zwUKYjzZZcn5v284dKxytdvlZSBkyKvFeUxyGmkQ9QADxVlB0bM0p5Rjng4/s1600/1610_DSC00526_311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZgxCLYaPVrCLABDprpYls6OdOhu91R4F5zpfvI0w_bKwvuCmm-4AWK_q9HZDqPxZ-v3Dh9Df4unkRp-V9zwUKYjzZZcn5v284dKxytdvlZSBkyKvFeUxyGmkQ9QADxVlB0bM0p5Rjng4/s640/1610_DSC00526_311.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This picture is my two friends getting ride for a fall ride. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM67hOA9X4hNGoFwZFO-5IQd5_cilFWoFdiHHBsw1UWjGzTVx0EHfs6eFHMT-LEYhuhE_GQS8pwfyvPRzuA1MZ06FNxC_HWG7JDeewIjxbCfUcEB_VK7q59AKM8E30DzOkNWH5nwSwhUA/s1600/1610_DSC02745_020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM67hOA9X4hNGoFwZFO-5IQd5_cilFWoFdiHHBsw1UWjGzTVx0EHfs6eFHMT-LEYhuhE_GQS8pwfyvPRzuA1MZ06FNxC_HWG7JDeewIjxbCfUcEB_VK7q59AKM8E30DzOkNWH5nwSwhUA/s640/1610_DSC02745_020.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And my last pictures are of a sunset over a cotton field. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitBDDJakIEGS_dJyErUk6DAFeD5a-m4y-taen9UsdOGjU7nKuAt_QktPPrGKWUQ0hYlQfqOdDFDQ2W_-uCqSopUOSBh7Mse2JedPqhDmyugKifuqed_PHaRZt0hlF7w-ZkwMmiwamE3-s/s1600/1610_DSC00070_070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitBDDJakIEGS_dJyErUk6DAFeD5a-m4y-taen9UsdOGjU7nKuAt_QktPPrGKWUQ0hYlQfqOdDFDQ2W_-uCqSopUOSBh7Mse2JedPqhDmyugKifuqed_PHaRZt0hlF7w-ZkwMmiwamE3-s/s640/1610_DSC00070_070.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGM5feacgPBGD9urHPxNqITNBbP6pue6DA0lomOW40QB-S6x5sRDq04BduWU51AYiG_8E0_Gt6sb-v8S8vet2jwGnPqkGP6FVLbuiHk1OX5vWxYvXf6H2igg_1lGwxGB-WFSIUG0moyzA/s1600/1610_DSC00077_077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGM5feacgPBGD9urHPxNqITNBbP6pue6DA0lomOW40QB-S6x5sRDq04BduWU51AYiG_8E0_Gt6sb-v8S8vet2jwGnPqkGP6FVLbuiHk1OX5vWxYvXf6H2igg_1lGwxGB-WFSIUG0moyzA/s640/1610_DSC00077_077.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He has made everything beautiful in its time.</span></div>
Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-65388234693283538122016-08-10T05:25:00.003-05:002016-08-11T03:35:09.252-05:00The Lost Puppy<div style="line-height: normal;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">There are a lot of tragic events that go on in the world today. So a puppy running away is a very small event. But if you are the owner, it is big to you. Our young neighbor, Lucy, bought a beautiful,six month old golden-doodle puppy. The first night, the dog slept in her bedroom being loved by a girl. But early the next morning her mom opened the door and the dog darted out and kept running. Her mom was unable to catch him and she and Lucy was heartbroken. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">Thus started nine days of neighbors and friends spotting the dog and trying to catch him. Each time he would run and hid in the woods. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-d3VTfc1hO2rebrW84y7Kotln0yHBVdUp0uEW9LGDWTvPeGdKkI9Gv0AhiII0FAWl2Jn5HUrzHEmUPQzu4icvB0oiUEN8pvJwsmohfBZ0HAgQDs7br1AvSCUQShJeEeVcHvs__X1SmE/s1600/1608_DSC03340_126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-d3VTfc1hO2rebrW84y7Kotln0yHBVdUp0uEW9LGDWTvPeGdKkI9Gv0AhiII0FAWl2Jn5HUrzHEmUPQzu4icvB0oiUEN8pvJwsmohfBZ0HAgQDs7br1AvSCUQShJeEeVcHvs__X1SmE/s640/1608_DSC03340_126.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">We would drive down the road looking and occasionally spot it. One neighbor sat out in the woods holding a hotdog hoping the smell would lure the hungry dog to her. She could see it in the woods with its tongue hanging out but couldn’t get close. They would set food out but to no avail. I rode my horse through the woods and down the trails but saw no sign of him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">Meanwhile Lucy was miserable. She would walk the roads shedding many tears. She told me she sat at the window with binoculars watching the fields. My heart broke for her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">After about a week, this six month puppy did an amazing thing. He had been hanging out about a quarter of a mile away and suddenly one night, Lucy looked out the window and he was sleeping outside her bedroom window. Now remember he had only spent one night there. When she tried to get it to come to her it ran again. Longing to go home but also afraid. Sounds like us Christians sometimes. Wanting to come to God but also afraid and staying in our old lifestyle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">Several of us were praying so hard for this little dog and grieving owner. I would pray, "Jesus, let them see you through this puppy coming home.” It bothered me so much that this puppy was alone in the woods at night. We would find garbage on the road where someone had thrown trash out and he would get it for food. Lucy sat out a trap with food but it remained untouched. She had even got the owner of the puppy that was this dog’s brother out and they walked the fields with it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">On Sunday night (a week from when he ran away) I was coming in from church and spotted him down the road. I drove down there but he hit the woods and disappeared. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0aW_4eqPSLHUEQ9DNzo7WaBnngmJLQNP87cevZT041JsX8PXlrS8glDdcIDwnhOrleLIviev56lADZroqR9YVkovo9IDJRL1r-6ilk0GXnVkaDCneWH7NHYLnl9w07m1_PPM1z9HsHN8/s1600/1608_DSC03384_170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0aW_4eqPSLHUEQ9DNzo7WaBnngmJLQNP87cevZT041JsX8PXlrS8glDdcIDwnhOrleLIviev56lADZroqR9YVkovo9IDJRL1r-6ilk0GXnVkaDCneWH7NHYLnl9w07m1_PPM1z9HsHN8/s640/1608_DSC03384_170.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">Now these woods have a fenced highway bordering one side, road in front and huge ravine on another side so it is boxed in somewhat. I called Lucy and went home and changed clothes and got my two dogs and rode my bike down there. She and I and the dogs searched all the trails but all we got were mosquito bites. Lucy was now buying McDonald hamburgers and using them as bait. She walked the woods with a burger in her hand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">The next day in the middle of the day I rode my bike past the area and here came Lucy out of the woods, sweating with bug bites all over her. My heart went out to her. I told her she had to go on and not let this consume her. She was doing everything she could. She and I both said we are praying so hard. While we were talking, we heard a dog bark, so we searched the woods again but again no puppy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">This brings the story to day nine. Before I go on, let me say, my God is an awesome, powerful God with a tender heart. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">I have walked in the mornings at 6 AM for fifteen years now, maybe longer, with a couple of friends. Solved many problems and could solve world problems if they would listen to us. We were walking past Lucy’s house when I saw the dog up near the house just standing in the pasture. Then I saw Lucy easing around the house. The dog hesitated and thought about not running. Didn’t he know that food, protection, love were all waiting in open arms for him? Again like us Christians-- We can be dirty, tired, and lost and our Father is waiting with open arms for us. But sometimes we choose to run and stay in our wilderness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">The dog, which Lucy is calling Houdini by now, runs through the pasture toward the road where we are standing. I had my two dogs with me so I turned them loose to see if the puppy would go to them. Houdini stops and tries to hide. I went in the pasture and tried to corner him while my two friends guarded the road. We got close but then he ran past them to the woods where he could hide and feel safe. Instead of continuing our walk we were all determined to keep looking. I felt like the puppy was weak and we needed to push him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">I took my dogs into the woods. There were thoughts of snakes and ticks but I couldn’t dwell on that right now. The two friends watched the road so we would know he was still in there. You have heard of a prayer walk, well that is what we did. They prayed and watched and I prayed and walked. I made it all the way to the lake but saw nothing. The dogs would run ahead and I hoped they would flush him out. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Finally I started the trail back to the road, and the dogs were ahead of me in the tall grass. Suddenly I heard a yelp. Praying it was the puppy, I hurried through the woods to the area where I had heard him. </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">My dogs were there but I couldn’t see the puppy. Then I turned and there, out on a log hanging over the twenty five foot ravine, was the puppy.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7DXL_ieXEh-knJkb7J6voprY0hmtwvfr0T8lOPpEm7pKOlrbTXny_BJrvx9jNsnNSWBo-Fev9RnJZxaUx51MoEUKFoQjtKmIU6ryhvc6AYzyr_nllonVYmUWVzlhKoGnilSG5ehCPFgw/s1600/1608_DSC03350_136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7DXL_ieXEh-knJkb7J6voprY0hmtwvfr0T8lOPpEm7pKOlrbTXny_BJrvx9jNsnNSWBo-Fev9RnJZxaUx51MoEUKFoQjtKmIU6ryhvc6AYzyr_nllonVYmUWVzlhKoGnilSG5ehCPFgw/s640/1608_DSC03350_136.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> (I had to go back later in the day to </span>take<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span>pictures<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> of that log!)</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF0CHcAJoFiV3PeFcu9xFKwz6LlGCwKyTmo9oMbc-1mddSZPZu3iHQJQTnG0ZeU16SKIhwFoOAN0IIYe7qEAfStssKVLtRGpw7tswZqWt6xab52iNHx3vH62Kdm33wMXkkh9SRKTr0qlc/s1600/1608_DSC03343_129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF0CHcAJoFiV3PeFcu9xFKwz6LlGCwKyTmo9oMbc-1mddSZPZu3iHQJQTnG0ZeU16SKIhwFoOAN0IIYe7qEAfStssKVLtRGpw7tswZqWt6xab52iNHx3vH62Kdm33wMXkkh9SRKTr0qlc/s640/1608_DSC03343_129.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">He had walked out on the rotten log and was hanging on with nowhere to go but straight down. There was nothing but air and a long fall beneath him. I tried to get my dogs back and they did so good and listened. Then I had to ease up to the log and had no choice but to get on it to get the puppy. Now, I don’t want this in any way to say I was brave or heroic. You have to understand this felt like such a God-thing. He trapped that puppy with no escape but death. He put him in the only area that I would be able to get it. As I got closer on the log to him, I reached out and grabbed his fur. Now he could have still fallen if he moved but he hunkered down and held on. I had to get my hands under and lift him. He is a half grown big dog so it wasn’t easy. But I was moving on adrenaline and excitement. I was able to gather him up and back off the log. A God thing.</span></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "arial";"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">The feeling was the same as if you had almost had a bad wreck and you saw at the last second how God delivered you from a terrible accident. I was so grateful. I keep repeating, “God you are so good. Thank you, thank you. I am so glad You did this.” I was ecstatic. I had to walk through the woods and weeds to get to the road with him cradled in my arms. He relaxed and laid there so that helped, but I wasn’t letting go.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">When I got to road and came out, my friend said she would have loved to have had a picture. I was smiling so big and cradling this dirty, wet, smelling puppy. Lucy had just left because she had to be somewhere and her mom was driving out heading to work. She was so excited and called Lucy who turned around and came home. It was a long walk to the house but I wouldn’t put him down. The funny part was my friend is not a dog person. But she grabbed the rear end to help carry him and we awkwardly headed to the house. When we got to porch, the mom said here is the cage but we said no, lets go in the house and close the door. I wasn’t taking a chance. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJbfAln34VKXdmNcHaI5HVHKbtOJfscu9rfT0s9dEt8Q5uEwna-wet1mhsr_l9Tt1IHg639mmGS5Cm1j_cdCkPggZOXKsibfwvi01eF58J9xRWB1ntsAYrvqZnevFTRu1B_2SK7meZiLE/s1600/IMG_9385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJbfAln34VKXdmNcHaI5HVHKbtOJfscu9rfT0s9dEt8Q5uEwna-wet1mhsr_l9Tt1IHg639mmGS5Cm1j_cdCkPggZOXKsibfwvi01eF58J9xRWB1ntsAYrvqZnevFTRu1B_2SK7meZiLE/s640/IMG_9385.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">We put him in cage inside and then Lucy come flying up. The look on her face said it all. She was so happy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> I took my dogs home. They were tired but had fun rescuing. </span><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have talked to her throughout the day and she went out and bought a harness, and flea soap. He was covered in ticks. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMw3noElROIKtnTcxsIixDgzjZFfwKwESFbLkpLappC2z2EnvYR_hFPXP7Kn_2rGazwJ97BVcyF_hFTHly-3tT9scloC-6h2-I9JOh_YY9e3SZbrQMJ4Ai41-SUfIYX00wmN0cz5oeX0/s1600/IMG_9407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMw3noElROIKtnTcxsIixDgzjZFfwKwESFbLkpLappC2z2EnvYR_hFPXP7Kn_2rGazwJ97BVcyF_hFTHly-3tT9scloC-6h2-I9JOh_YY9e3SZbrQMJ4Ai41-SUfIYX00wmN0cz5oeX0/s320/IMG_9407.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Her last text stated that he starting to look better. What a sweet picture and story ending. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYxb9ANDt-BvJhSEnexeZZhFkai9wbfwywsSOrqhv4hCYHfM6KR7T33K17Z_EnZcnOEJrLWXzI7lBz_glLoSN_IMloSXBQwLBQJ-70itq_yTktVTy2iTVZmOUwyHrvyAcseexxlyaums/s1600/Image-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYxb9ANDt-BvJhSEnexeZZhFkai9wbfwywsSOrqhv4hCYHfM6KR7T33K17Z_EnZcnOEJrLWXzI7lBz_glLoSN_IMloSXBQwLBQJ-70itq_yTktVTy2iTVZmOUwyHrvyAcseexxlyaums/s640/Image-1.jpg" width="358" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">When he was on that log it reminded me of the story in Luke of the lost sheep. Luke 15:4-7 <i>“Suppose one of you had a hundred sheep and lost one. Wouldn’t you leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the lost one until you found it? When found, you can be sure you would put it across your shoulders, rejoicing, and when you got home call in your friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Celebrate with me! I’ve found my lost sheep!’ Count on it—there’s more joy in heaven over one sinner’s rescued life than over ninety-nine good people in no need of rescue.” </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none;">Think about that. We are like Houdini and that lost lamb. Our Lord rejoices over that one person who had rejected Him, wandered in the wilderness and then when we turn back, He rejoices and loves on us and carries us.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thank you, God. You are a good, good Father.</span></div>
Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-90492243937309721712016-08-05T05:31:00.000-05:002016-08-05T05:44:39.302-05:00Road Trip to Amish Community<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I love a road trip, especially when I have the camera sitting in my lap. It means our trip will involve me saying, "Stop, wait, back up a little, I'm getting out." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This trip was to Pontotoc Mississippi and we went to the Amish Community in Randolph.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJME5-vM-IXWHZfRiRYWwkQf1MhKCC-sGUhAEjwJe-1lLIQ77m2g8JXmOCU_LSX8UNKlHd_X5IgYRb-WSRLgDGop6ubLfD3vmigvrM5Lisv6Wx9BBria95vDlmJ91I01T-IEzuR27cs0/s1600/1607_DSC03212_106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJME5-vM-IXWHZfRiRYWwkQf1MhKCC-sGUhAEjwJe-1lLIQ77m2g8JXmOCU_LSX8UNKlHd_X5IgYRb-WSRLgDGop6ubLfD3vmigvrM5Lisv6Wx9BBria95vDlmJ91I01T-IEzuR27cs0/s640/1607_DSC03212_106.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I love everything about riding down those roads. The beautiful white houses and red barns with clothes hanging on the lines. Young kids cutting grass with a horse and sickle. Buggy and horses everywhere.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">There are signs at the roads telling what they sell. I have bought horse supplies on a previous trip at one house that sold saddles and such. This trip we bought homemade squash pickles, green tomato pickles, watermelon and a large jar of honey. Last time we bought honey with the comb in it. Very good. I wanted to buy sorghum. We went to the house where they were making it on our last trip but they were out. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It is August now and the heat has been unbearable. High 90's and 100's. Yet these people are without electricity and are out working in heavy dark clothes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We were told at one house that there was an auction going on at one of the houses where the family was moving out. As we pulled up I realized the parking was different than most parking lots!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> The auction was so interested. I could stayed all day. Old sewing machines, wagons, chairs, and more. And the Amish all came to shop and sell. </span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I hope to make another trip soon. Maybe on a cooler day.</span></div>
<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-15289060838239516982016-07-20T05:18:00.001-05:002016-07-20T05:18:27.908-05:00Heal our Land<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Daniel 10:“<i>Do not be afraid, Daniel. Since the first day that you set your mind to gain understanding and to humble yourself before your God, your words were heard, and I have come in response to them. </i></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: normal;"><b><i>13 </i></b></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>But the prince of the Persian kingdom resisted me twenty-one days.</i>”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">When the prophet Daniel didn’t get an answer to his prayer he withdrew for three weeks of fasting and spiritual discipline puzzled by the silence of God. Finally an angel explained the battle going on with the king of Persia. What seemed like to Daniel like a case of unanswered prayer had, in ways hidden to him sparked a battle among unseen combatants in the spiritual realm. Prayer is our strongest weapon agains invisible forces. (Philip Yancey)</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Paul said in Eph. 6:12 “<i>For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Ps. 106:23 “<i>So He said He would destroy them had not Moses stood in the breach before him.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">God says he would have destroyed the people had it not been for Moses interceding through prayer for them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Ezekiel 22:30 “<i>I looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it but I found none.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Help us Lord to stand firm and stand in the gap for our land and our families. Help us to be that man God is looking for.</span></div>
Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-44602500301008258402016-07-16T05:27:00.000-05:002016-07-16T05:27:05.221-05:00How Much Longer Lord<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">David, being chased by Saul, wrote Ps. 13, <i>"How long O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?"</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">(From David Jeremiah's book, "<i>Bend in the Road</i>") Like a child in the backseat on a long trip, we call out the same questions to God, "How much longer, Lord? How much farther? Are we there yet? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There are some prayers that God does not grant either the first or second or third time. Often time, this delay will keep us in a state of humility and make us realize the value of grace.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">David finish this Psalm with this, <i>"But I trust in your unfailing love, my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord for He has been good to me."</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When you can't feel His hand, Trust His heart.</span><br />
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<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-16705971431314293082016-07-09T06:27:00.001-05:002016-07-09T06:27:19.632-05:00I Am Weak But He Is Strong<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I bear willing witness that I owe more to the fire, and the hammer, and the file, than to anything else in my Lord’s workshop. I sometimes question whether I have ever learned anything except through the rod. When my schoolroom is darkened, I see most. —Charles Spurgeon</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">1 Peter 1:6-7, 10 <i>I<span style="color: #660000;">n all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. </span></i><span style="color: #660000;">“<i>And He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities,That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The weaker we are the stronger His grace is revealed, Or to put it another way, “When this little light of mine becomes dimmer, His great floodlight shines all the more brightly." Pain offers us great wealth. When life wounds us and we are in deep pain, we instinctively cry out to God. Life is difficult and difficulty is the only path to wisdom. Pain draws us to God’s Word.—David Jeremiah.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Tried for a season, pure for eternity, Warren Wiersbe.</span></div>
<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-41745912649291739912016-07-04T04:49:00.001-05:002016-07-04T04:49:12.703-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>The Bend in the Road</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Sometimes we come to life's crossroads</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And we view what we think is the end.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">But God has a much wider vision</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And he knows that it's only a bend-</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The road will go on and get smoother</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And after we've stopped for a rest,</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The path that lies hidden beyond us</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Is often the path that is best.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So rest and relax and grow stronger,</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(119, 119, 119); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #777777; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Let go and let God share your load</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(119, 119, 119); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #777777; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">And have faith in a brighter tomorrow-</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(119, 119, 119); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #777777; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">You've just come to a bend in the road.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Helen Steiner Rice.</span></div>
Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-22421595271815534102016-06-16T14:14:00.002-05:002016-06-16T14:16:55.782-05:00Horse Show<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfgXYeIF8Zs4OjqWe0r5MtiC7X-mKAArmPaOA9-cUXyumL6vMQb9_wQnTmYhS3Bs1VVliE2T0DJ24SLF10yckWETv5PbjUaMJoNNcicdKNwzWbjAwpLNu0JUYL6OLEiMQJvmtPoO2gU4E/s1600/1606_DSC01830_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfgXYeIF8Zs4OjqWe0r5MtiC7X-mKAArmPaOA9-cUXyumL6vMQb9_wQnTmYhS3Bs1VVliE2T0DJ24SLF10yckWETv5PbjUaMJoNNcicdKNwzWbjAwpLNu0JUYL6OLEiMQJvmtPoO2gU4E/s640/1606_DSC01830_001.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Had a wonderful time at the Germantown Classic Horse Show. Beautiful horses and fun to watch. I went to see a friend of mine and his wife compete in the Speed Racking Class but you have to sit through many classes before their time. Here is the Grand Master leading the stick horse race.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjklRmWGvwvYJyJN4GvLwIKnOrsuX7gZDh-jtGoSft1nkx6BNB6MzHXOSWemle-MC4uoHHb1NAm-AOCYsjU1W310znV6zqYD63PVr-Ts3XPOiwVHLBzeGHv_wvpnzMOq66y_yKLfPOBMEc/s1600/1606_DSC01847_018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjklRmWGvwvYJyJN4GvLwIKnOrsuX7gZDh-jtGoSft1nkx6BNB6MzHXOSWemle-MC4uoHHb1NAm-AOCYsjU1W310znV6zqYD63PVr-Ts3XPOiwVHLBzeGHv_wvpnzMOq66y_yKLfPOBMEc/s640/1606_DSC01847_018.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Also the beautiful opening act with the girls and their flag presentation. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9Olq5QDH1NH0haJalk8Aar1QI5CRi9vS_qIHz_z1W9rlbKkDzRhpUVa2Yk_IOnfbuFjKKpw3TG1zYeCZ1C2XrElRyMAWvtnamTSj7_hPy4Gr_MZ5cpBhUGsER5u16_PcUwFdpgUjKzI/s1600/1606_DSC01850_021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9Olq5QDH1NH0haJalk8Aar1QI5CRi9vS_qIHz_z1W9rlbKkDzRhpUVa2Yk_IOnfbuFjKKpw3TG1zYeCZ1C2XrElRyMAWvtnamTSj7_hPy4Gr_MZ5cpBhUGsER5u16_PcUwFdpgUjKzI/s640/1606_DSC01850_021.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4VfS2A3Xa9T1I0DozJ-iJjhDF3kBvYx7Vwx16enYaZmV64elaxWUfeXcPZsFEIo6bS1zGswm_EMgWQW03HhAWPMx9tRLOdvP2UhSHPcAp7eE3ZKkOjM_gpO7NfbYKyPRANm2Q13LkQzI/s1600/1606_DSC01928_100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4VfS2A3Xa9T1I0DozJ-iJjhDF3kBvYx7Vwx16enYaZmV64elaxWUfeXcPZsFEIo6bS1zGswm_EMgWQW03HhAWPMx9tRLOdvP2UhSHPcAp7eE3ZKkOjM_gpO7NfbYKyPRANm2Q13LkQzI/s640/1606_DSC01928_100.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Here is my friend on his horse, Fury. He was flying and put on a great show. He came in third in a group of 12. Great performance.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNjxGOJ6gYXaJZAf3Y6NYxWh8T5YKHxJ3NK1p3kshPRNghG1DusUMeJCCTM_Hu2Jyfzk_2JV7PJ5_oV9iJNfzPm5UK2m7Lq0QzYdUzgRvBx_RAhaNv5Mcubk7HsvTwRZYIL4hXETTEO1U/s1600/1606_DSC01939_110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNjxGOJ6gYXaJZAf3Y6NYxWh8T5YKHxJ3NK1p3kshPRNghG1DusUMeJCCTM_Hu2Jyfzk_2JV7PJ5_oV9iJNfzPm5UK2m7Lq0QzYdUzgRvBx_RAhaNv5Mcubk7HsvTwRZYIL4hXETTEO1U/s640/1606_DSC01939_110.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Intense in their job!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXEXJJlsifdEl7BPqN-Twmhd0FzSpnqGxjSNUZrqnGP7mSNpZPHdtOfSm16Kvxs3-OFWNsojDgGDiPABWZEQfXg5AE9-DW-crTfpygqznZ45k4V7k2i4xbzWDPCqOMrbkpuYV-BGBStY/s1600/1606_DSC01750_027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXEXJJlsifdEl7BPqN-Twmhd0FzSpnqGxjSNUZrqnGP7mSNpZPHdtOfSm16Kvxs3-OFWNsojDgGDiPABWZEQfXg5AE9-DW-crTfpygqznZ45k4V7k2i4xbzWDPCqOMrbkpuYV-BGBStY/s640/1606_DSC01750_027.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> She did wonderful on her first time in the ring in a long time.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHMSnI1CWLiSe_XlMxLOG-Th1TpSbRBby8Zomzf5JzBzFz-Iu56J8Phxq1Eo62iIcRgwpAx55bRV5334FpwE8PueJl4uMrO6SAYiF93ShqcygHODr_f9yOLk3s8EfTQmwJ0I2oCEvFZ28/s1600/1606_DSC01949_120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHMSnI1CWLiSe_XlMxLOG-Th1TpSbRBby8Zomzf5JzBzFz-Iu56J8Phxq1Eo62iIcRgwpAx55bRV5334FpwE8PueJl4uMrO6SAYiF93ShqcygHODr_f9yOLk3s8EfTQmwJ0I2oCEvFZ28/s640/1606_DSC01949_120.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPMZb5bBwq4XW9Iu_IJhzaJwbNZ2r4Omaru88OXTL7xQZ4R_cnt5evLx5fm1gSIqTbNJVFpblFXhIxpJByoX7ol6yU_3Y7R0VAwqROJfy0gUtNjd8yEd5lNFmPBEEb2BXemvXjaCyYiZw/s1600/1606_DSC01735_012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPMZb5bBwq4XW9Iu_IJhzaJwbNZ2r4Omaru88OXTL7xQZ4R_cnt5evLx5fm1gSIqTbNJVFpblFXhIxpJByoX7ol6yU_3Y7R0VAwqROJfy0gUtNjd8yEd5lNFmPBEEb2BXemvXjaCyYiZw/s640/1606_DSC01735_012.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Beautiful Horse.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7QJbJAK-g8a5sT7UfEaRDQsQz0d2WP5r81oPvmnN79vW4sEmLtgUYuNy51tdxbDKzU_adEofIh_6RdwYRrxnbEFNcghgLmfIp_YNku9WAnP4tL0T9Ih0Dh5ab-WCijX59_OqRIf4rayo/s1600/1606_DSC01637_188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7QJbJAK-g8a5sT7UfEaRDQsQz0d2WP5r81oPvmnN79vW4sEmLtgUYuNy51tdxbDKzU_adEofIh_6RdwYRrxnbEFNcghgLmfIp_YNku9WAnP4tL0T9Ih0Dh5ab-WCijX59_OqRIf4rayo/s640/1606_DSC01637_188.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I was just going to go one night but ended up going all three. I was afraid I would miss something.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44_oYqlj_4fez87gREabcEuGYHriGIJXQLQzkzYSLBGAdu_whWYwi6-yUq5DIPjFurt1z6RWfEWnCrw7lc51tBfXZue2n-A5-ouWUTrcFFkpDBF1e5N-J7-pZug56aIh7GTWxtcZA_IM/s1600/1606_DSC01694_245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44_oYqlj_4fez87gREabcEuGYHriGIJXQLQzkzYSLBGAdu_whWYwi6-yUq5DIPjFurt1z6RWfEWnCrw7lc51tBfXZue2n-A5-ouWUTrcFFkpDBF1e5N-J7-pZug56aIh7GTWxtcZA_IM/s640/1606_DSC01694_245.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Can't wait to next year!</span></div>
Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-37811104081814153162016-05-25T05:33:00.003-05:002016-05-25T05:33:38.319-05:00Old Barns<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZfZDIL0VlVzhBra-h2oPMYkOcb9NhJLQh8sCt6xvMaIQJAKFeWML1oyUj065_Gk08dMnEIeTmBTNrVjeGVwxLuRxZtwnNNO06Kx5kUmHXsZjVXSeYynNmi1bdpEzvsY3JKdekAKJrOw/s1600/1605_DSC01379_049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZfZDIL0VlVzhBra-h2oPMYkOcb9NhJLQh8sCt6xvMaIQJAKFeWML1oyUj065_Gk08dMnEIeTmBTNrVjeGVwxLuRxZtwnNNO06Kx5kUmHXsZjVXSeYynNmi1bdpEzvsY3JKdekAKJrOw/s640/1605_DSC01379_049.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes an afternoon drive by myself is one my favorite pastimes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And only someone who loves photography would understand why I stopped in the turning lane of a 4 lane highway to take pictures of this barn. I was finally able to park in their drive. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWbb57f3GWuXXYlcMfWRGsfYJk2D_zkwj7cwycaoAkT1F9VtYwQCKJgqcA8UvWWPTP5o88juY-nWnC5WYBApMvErJ-BE9wRfv7221onHidpUjBvIFlCAa05IIFiDJwGBYuJQT8bjWJwA/s1600/1605_DSC01413_083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWbb57f3GWuXXYlcMfWRGsfYJk2D_zkwj7cwycaoAkT1F9VtYwQCKJgqcA8UvWWPTP5o88juY-nWnC5WYBApMvErJ-BE9wRfv7221onHidpUjBvIFlCAa05IIFiDJwGBYuJQT8bjWJwA/s640/1605_DSC01413_083.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYwOW3gXguuTJ0sE7fGF1EYEaZeNpi9T4-3sLcwOvaRScAf_c0VP6vDXe7V_uZkiUAwdF8AaQ9nsizxjwmRAi9-Y2byYyU3u5fC7tg8xs5Ht_I2iEkLrEjI9SSv4mf2FRyiLRvRWBeFms/s1600/1605_DSC01341_011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYwOW3gXguuTJ0sE7fGF1EYEaZeNpi9T4-3sLcwOvaRScAf_c0VP6vDXe7V_uZkiUAwdF8AaQ9nsizxjwmRAi9-Y2byYyU3u5fC7tg8xs5Ht_I2iEkLrEjI9SSv4mf2FRyiLRvRWBeFms/s640/1605_DSC01341_011.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">The cows were not interested in me at all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The next barn was just as beautiful to me. Old, weathered but still useful. How I feel some days.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZh7Kv9pZgy9Klnfcjsm-uJnQhqdewGLnk1bbm53w5-FM_CdvDPOlONuXp1rNWBFa9awRXbrtm8vpypog_X9_FHc4CeLvire-hoaw44V9gpDXll5RpZV6ErhIEnb_EXoAPJVogdrNo4M/s1600/1605_DSC01424_094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZh7Kv9pZgy9Klnfcjsm-uJnQhqdewGLnk1bbm53w5-FM_CdvDPOlONuXp1rNWBFa9awRXbrtm8vpypog_X9_FHc4CeLvire-hoaw44V9gpDXll5RpZV6ErhIEnb_EXoAPJVogdrNo4M/s640/1605_DSC01424_094.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ofpyd_f01lbPTuHk5IwswFBp9BZNp0L0d4voxmhDCrrfHwBWR3nzEIcGlu-3mqrFi-71gEhvg2Gq1YazWDtq6-CB_aLUdsYNgaRA-T-eTjPUb3Wi1L4GUrfZyDSOxVpNcFrY7mCjo_g/s1600/1605_DSC01430_100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ofpyd_f01lbPTuHk5IwswFBp9BZNp0L0d4voxmhDCrrfHwBWR3nzEIcGlu-3mqrFi-71gEhvg2Gq1YazWDtq6-CB_aLUdsYNgaRA-T-eTjPUb3Wi1L4GUrfZyDSOxVpNcFrY7mCjo_g/s640/1605_DSC01430_100.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg249xyTHnC2rkOd0Gh9JUDEr48H9iR41cDLkLQMuhP1Tv3z_WPxkZnSy1a7l6prb63Lf1yjCCZCAXsC2aBtP8jVq-EV0tni4PLLLQsqiCU5-9iD7at6vzTR7I153eEJmLZgiGrBn8aQeo/s1600/1605_DSC01440_110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg249xyTHnC2rkOd0Gh9JUDEr48H9iR41cDLkLQMuhP1Tv3z_WPxkZnSy1a7l6prb63Lf1yjCCZCAXsC2aBtP8jVq-EV0tni4PLLLQsqiCU5-9iD7at6vzTR7I153eEJmLZgiGrBn8aQeo/s640/1605_DSC01440_110.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Love the old barns!</span></div>
<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-53298456725546693472016-05-19T05:30:00.000-05:002016-05-19T05:32:29.275-05:00Worn Out Bibles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDuzf881Tyr7AevtDt1bQM-G_KGXz5j4YUztOactBJV4mvqw-7oWqZvI-ksHTwrqBCuXlgdmLa7h3Ff4kI_TgufdHQuvaCdMZhDw-5EgOugMVhb2qZ6hCJWgDQcdEPyWcUQ3-yLN1pk4/s1600/IMG_0312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDuzf881Tyr7AevtDt1bQM-G_KGXz5j4YUztOactBJV4mvqw-7oWqZvI-ksHTwrqBCuXlgdmLa7h3Ff4kI_TgufdHQuvaCdMZhDw-5EgOugMVhb2qZ6hCJWgDQcdEPyWcUQ3-yLN1pk4/s640/IMG_0312.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A lady was sitting by me in church last night and leaned over and asked, "How old is your Bible?"I smiled and "It is old." She said, "I want mine to look like that someday. I want my children to see it used and marked and leave it to them."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I thought about that this morning. I wanted to make sure I didn't have a prideful thought about it. You know we can turn anything good into something about ourselves and what we have done. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I believe in my heart, I am proud...proud of my Lord, proud that the Bible is freely available to me, and proud of the way it ministers to me. I realize I had to open it up, but so many times it was out of need, but I will say also out of desire for the Word to speak to me. I am also thankful. Thankful I came from a family of worn out Bibles.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I actually have a picture of my grandad on my Mom's side resting under a shade tree reading his Bible. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCaMGkaJvINXkIKgdllr_xFfgZR5qJJ-Q2wRHxOHVVm1S0KSszPGCEANMlIBqH-3Isjcj5av1c0JUcR7PspNpV-TVnSSgnrvCSfTCgAanDzXW_uD6THPt48Q08th-A-otBABPS07l0c2Y/s1600/1211_fae9fb49-1848-49c3-af57-ef5559ed0b10-1_023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="636" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCaMGkaJvINXkIKgdllr_xFfgZR5qJJ-Q2wRHxOHVVm1S0KSszPGCEANMlIBqH-3Isjcj5av1c0JUcR7PspNpV-TVnSSgnrvCSfTCgAanDzXW_uD6THPt48Q08th-A-otBABPS07l0c2Y/s640/1211_fae9fb49-1848-49c3-af57-ef5559ed0b10-1_023.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then there is the picture of my grandmother on my Dad's side heading out to church with her Bible under her arm. I have one of her Bibles now and it is worn, underlined and used. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have my Mom's Bible and it is marked up through out and it was one of many of her Bibles. She actually wore Bibles out!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My Dad is 85 and feeble now. I have walked in his house many times and found him leaning over his Bible asleep. Reading it and then resting in it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This is from my Bible. I told a friend yesterday that one of my life verses is Luke 12:48 "..<i>.From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded, and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This verse reminds me that I have been given much, much is asked of me. I was given a Christian legacy of worn out Bibles. I should be wearing out Bibles in my lifetime. I have been given much.</span></div>
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<br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-44975229620284699012016-05-08T06:44:00.001-05:002016-05-08T06:44:18.177-05:00HORSES AND TRIALS<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;">I’m reading a book called “How to think like a Horse.” It tells how a horse sees objects ahead and how the object becomes a scary monster to them. I starting thinking about how this is true in our lives when we face the trials that are sure to come. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The book explains that we need to realize when dealing with horses that their eyesight is so different from ours because their eyes are set so far apart. As a horse approaches an object he sees it with both eyes (binocular vision) but when he is about 4 feet from it, his monocular vision kicks in and he might suddenly spook or turn his head to see it out of one eye. The object passes from one field of vision to the other. If the rider allows his horse a free rein to get a good look, usually the result is no spook!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjt3Tr8MccKFJrIKzXmJwa9wsGzIkqtE9od9a9NQP7WaOWuXFc_yjsef2Nul1qQM1W31gyapjqLDKSDCJfzCV8q50OJYo9I2MvolJO_VtfhqgN9Wvc6gWlGYKG2DgvI33JIlNtc8xxE-w/s1600/1604_DSC01124_067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjt3Tr8MccKFJrIKzXmJwa9wsGzIkqtE9od9a9NQP7WaOWuXFc_yjsef2Nul1qQM1W31gyapjqLDKSDCJfzCV8q50OJYo9I2MvolJO_VtfhqgN9Wvc6gWlGYKG2DgvI33JIlNtc8xxE-w/s640/1604_DSC01124_067.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> Peter 4:12 tells us “</span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering.” </i><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">When we are going a trial we can so easily lose our focus and be afraid. We start focusing on the circumstances and not rely on our faith in God and His guidance and strength. Our line of vision is focusing on a scary object. If we will remember to give God a free rein in our lives, we won’t spook regardless what we are going through. Let Him lead us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Horses also have blind spots which are directly behind them or on top of them. In the wild, a mountain lion in a tree can wait until the horse walks past and jump on their back. That is why a horse is considered a prey animal and it is amazing they allow us to sit on their backs. Their instincts advise them different. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What causes some of the trials in our lives? Isn’t there a lion out there that attacks us? </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I Peter 5:8-9 addresses this—“<i>Be self controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith…” </i>We need to remember this in a trial. Resist and stand firm. Verse 10 gives us the result of our obedience. We don’t spook.—“And the God of all grace…<i>after you have suffered a little while, will Himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Linking up with Spiritual Sundays. </i></span>http://www.spiritualsundays.com</div>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-11952321571191977902016-05-01T06:57:00.001-05:002016-05-01T06:57:21.525-05:00Who Keeps His Oath<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Psalm 15:1 <i>"Lord who may dwell in your sanctuary, who may live on your holy hill? He...who keeps his oath, even when it hurts."</i></span></div>
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"<span style="font-size: large;">Keeps his oath"--not as common in our world today. Today it is just changing your mind when you go back on your word.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This reminded me of a time in my life when my Dad kept his oath even when it hurt. We were living in a small house that I grew up in on Tant Road and we had outgrown it. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsu-1xHk0YnKUusoXYve_2rTJdwZDVCMY9qg5bVA8U9CPlRLezDQ7SPttLwu-kZ9DBJgJj_Wfsy9piWMncZn_74sA6fpONwiWXPjBBvK4j9oBxLYk4mM2NRD2aK6Ni1IyHixXBCdUC5fE/s1600/1939+tantfinal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsu-1xHk0YnKUusoXYve_2rTJdwZDVCMY9qg5bVA8U9CPlRLezDQ7SPttLwu-kZ9DBJgJj_Wfsy9piWMncZn_74sA6fpONwiWXPjBBvK4j9oBxLYk4mM2NRD2aK6Ni1IyHixXBCdUC5fE/s640/1939+tantfinal.jpg" width="640" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTuqYKAfPcjmluQDJqaGNzhBVYK_JtAHtykWi8Tbs0BZZ9mvyPubQ_b60rWVBka2mG_yrS_0U97LzX1PG2gKRyJsWBgeSi3hYYpnBbRGhx9rMNeip8k35isZ1kODkaaIWLVHnSgBbBfiE/s1600/1503_1503_Scan+100_103-2_097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTuqYKAfPcjmluQDJqaGNzhBVYK_JtAHtykWi8Tbs0BZZ9mvyPubQ_b60rWVBka2mG_yrS_0U97LzX1PG2gKRyJsWBgeSi3hYYpnBbRGhx9rMNeip8k35isZ1kODkaaIWLVHnSgBbBfiE/s640/1503_1503_Scan+100_103-2_097.jpg" width="634" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPx-Zpc5_d4q1DymeFlXww0_SEA3ohWUOsrPtefJOtjWwToSfdvI3mAyLSLFvyHSXjKfXTBc7BGBTDf6TlQPPvXiqDvaVRrNETI8WyvYLS0Vg3L1L2ST9l418hqGRP0FRvTTyZgm87cRw/s1600/1503_Scan+13+copy_042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPx-Zpc5_d4q1DymeFlXww0_SEA3ohWUOsrPtefJOtjWwToSfdvI3mAyLSLFvyHSXjKfXTBc7BGBTDf6TlQPPvXiqDvaVRrNETI8WyvYLS0Vg3L1L2ST9l418hqGRP0FRvTTyZgm87cRw/s640/1503_Scan+13+copy_042.jpg" width="630" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Two bedrooms and one bath. Susan and I shared a room and she kept breathing my air and I was bossy to her!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZaLylHgnu74GrnQuu9oALodJj3eH18Y4fC-pjj3m2qCVflOMnyrW6D_iYFe0UH0WJ0ty166bqhPjGEQayLgvoeytxOLRUSAJrPuThcIO2GA1_WCquAhuu2UUM8yEPoEDkXK8wAME2w2o/s1600/bren+%2526+sue+sears.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZaLylHgnu74GrnQuu9oALodJj3eH18Y4fC-pjj3m2qCVflOMnyrW6D_iYFe0UH0WJ0ty166bqhPjGEQayLgvoeytxOLRUSAJrPuThcIO2GA1_WCquAhuu2UUM8yEPoEDkXK8wAME2w2o/s640/bren+%2526+sue+sears.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When Dad heard about a man at our church selling his house in Bartlett we looked at the house and decided it was the one for us. Dad and the man made a verbal agreement that we would buy it for a certain price. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dad then went home and put our house up for sale. It sold quickly and the buyer and Dad made a verbal agreement until the paperwork could be drawn up. Later we received word from the man we were buying from that he had started looking at houses in Nashville where he was moving and the cost of living was higher. He would have to go up on his asking price even though he had agreed on the original price. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dad had a choice. He could go back on his word or we would have to move out in a few weeks. Dad wouldn't "change his mind" even though it hurt. We frantically started looking at apartments, rentals, and houses. Finally a man at Dad's work had a rental house across town that we could move into. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Although this rental house had old dirty carpet and had been a house with several cats living in it, we started cleaning and using several bottles of Lysol and moved in. We lived there close to a year until we found a house we could afford in Bartlett.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lesson learned--a man taught his family that his word was his oath and he made a commitment to keep it. I remembered it 50 years later.</span>Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-13782161016431543592016-04-27T07:05:00.001-05:002016-04-27T07:05:41.241-05:00Big Hill Pond<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE1Hr_PPve8Gy1XQiQ3CJWFHUVZgmawG7iw1YO2awAPEHffAfN2ZzsBz8YyJyvrVfNgj3njjFcltd55n2J6bOZKRqKvCwc_jBDv4KkHZIXdMdSkDa2vJwe8-OjCpiXghkk0cIa02sa3dU/s1600/1604_DSC02659_034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE1Hr_PPve8Gy1XQiQ3CJWFHUVZgmawG7iw1YO2awAPEHffAfN2ZzsBz8YyJyvrVfNgj3njjFcltd55n2J6bOZKRqKvCwc_jBDv4KkHZIXdMdSkDa2vJwe8-OjCpiXghkk0cIa02sa3dU/s640/1604_DSC02659_034.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;">What a horse day!! Two of my good friends and I trailered 1 & 1/2 hour away to a state park called Big Hill Pond. Now who would name a park that? Didn't take us long to find out. We found the "pond" (my lake must be a puddle) and definitely found the big hills.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;">I had wanted to take Shiloh, my big gelding, but he had a swelling I was concerned about so I took my old faithful, Gracie. She did wonderfully. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;">I had to laugh when I saw this picture. Here we are smiling and all is right with the world and these two mares are fussing. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7FGS_jCDhR9QevATVlw-86ED_pxOtqcnVCq6Whl7-wyvA3IqJi1C3Kztab3mZkED8FaIcSXPKkCzWMmYdqyQHYF3ty7FcxlGSIYZNKgGNDF4Q_NIMRdGbxZmoiXd35sRi3Ujcn9UAJAU/s1600/1604_DSC02665_040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7FGS_jCDhR9QevATVlw-86ED_pxOtqcnVCq6Whl7-wyvA3IqJi1C3Kztab3mZkED8FaIcSXPKkCzWMmYdqyQHYF3ty7FcxlGSIYZNKgGNDF4Q_NIMRdGbxZmoiXd35sRi3Ujcn9UAJAU/s640/1604_DSC02665_040.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;">See the ears back (on the horse not me). They are still not talking. Now is the snippy stage. "No, I'm fine."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;">But the park is beautiful. Tall hills but not scary. You ride high above the lake/pond. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYwC8bcMxOYS5OtY4yO4npBQS_MwczvObbdI3jHu8r0zrcSbfY_Gz59vj-GDX0xTw9L_yDa-io7dEL9Ey9U06D3Dfy7qnz8dHG1_EHQCxWkZbKvULyhpCKgCQuoThcEpZWVFN_3yuhvE/s1600/1604_DSC02650_025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYwC8bcMxOYS5OtY4yO4npBQS_MwczvObbdI3jHu8r0zrcSbfY_Gz59vj-GDX0xTw9L_yDa-io7dEL9Ey9U06D3Dfy7qnz8dHG1_EHQCxWkZbKvULyhpCKgCQuoThcEpZWVFN_3yuhvE/s640/1604_DSC02650_025.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;">We had a few u-turns. "Maybe this is the trail no, maybe that is." Sorry, but I believe a man marked these trails. Women would have had "turn here" signs to help each other. Men probably said, "they will figure it out." But we didn't care. Just laughed because we were on a horse and it was a beautiful, blue sky day.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0YmS_kPRGuZ1-U984jvz9vIrxmc6qo3qOD3l8WjOaNjx8h_jmgIMgkkEPr-TmZaAtQ7GoJb3jTKOn0CLtA2GxL6ekhuUB-yTn7xUvT8GNGxRbfvsVUywjgCQWnS9InXkMnIRlQ4RLE0/s1600/1604_DSC02670_045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0YmS_kPRGuZ1-U984jvz9vIrxmc6qo3qOD3l8WjOaNjx8h_jmgIMgkkEPr-TmZaAtQ7GoJb3jTKOn0CLtA2GxL6ekhuUB-yTn7xUvT8GNGxRbfvsVUywjgCQWnS9InXkMnIRlQ4RLE0/s640/1604_DSC02670_045.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;">Beautiful stream where the horses could have a drink.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIejH2kMMn92P_rz_tksU-s6TDxeXXsQ-zAYivikB2V558pBOQaMo4euc-57UbBRaYxIMObnAAWyifpyj052AG95UNenTycdzaAh4uJgkqVx-gs6DDP4HugOaDjnQjUsf0UNaJG8STN8/s1600/1604_DSCN0135_021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIejH2kMMn92P_rz_tksU-s6TDxeXXsQ-zAYivikB2V558pBOQaMo4euc-57UbBRaYxIMObnAAWyifpyj052AG95UNenTycdzaAh4uJgkqVx-gs6DDP4HugOaDjnQjUsf0UNaJG8STN8/s640/1604_DSCN0135_021.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;">I love these girls and enjoy riding with them so much. We have solved a lot of problems with good listening and promises of prayer. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;">To have good horses that we love, to eat lunch on a log in the woods with good friends--I am so blessed and thankful. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicncVYIU3Ja4GvEGx1sNQUuAlHf50_Jt9cDx5vsMNkVNnEmPWzekesvkA8JyOB7q0q4O3cDjNsQAiSVsXAYuvlHhQVOr5zxBSuiKVJQDXqYVlbXCuua-f7iJqXRjpUZhFnGdm30QPu8pI/s1600/1604_DSCN0126_012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicncVYIU3Ja4GvEGx1sNQUuAlHf50_Jt9cDx5vsMNkVNnEmPWzekesvkA8JyOB7q0q4O3cDjNsQAiSVsXAYuvlHhQVOr5zxBSuiKVJQDXqYVlbXCuua-f7iJqXRjpUZhFnGdm30QPu8pI/s640/1604_DSCN0126_012.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-44864567774623917062016-02-21T05:13:00.001-06:002016-02-21T06:35:23.678-06:00An Almost Disaster<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwHK2FICAGcecFHQS0lNQwegRqww2sV00dA54FEqWPVfRKoaviAeoK_5vhi_OFLnbMyZnMEaJN9ez5C1wGyfedQbhN22d58iM4_tGzQ11DSqtmree102FQdXhEnUHQOBlP9KhzUHHk4EA/s1600/1511_DSC02639_056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwHK2FICAGcecFHQS0lNQwegRqww2sV00dA54FEqWPVfRKoaviAeoK_5vhi_OFLnbMyZnMEaJN9ez5C1wGyfedQbhN22d58iM4_tGzQ11DSqtmree102FQdXhEnUHQOBlP9KhzUHHk4EA/s640/1511_DSC02639_056.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sometimes a planned trail ride with friends is an uneventful good memory, sometimes a great ride, and then sometimes a great ride with an almost disaster. I had that ride this week. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I trailered with two of my friends from our country setting to a park in Memphis. That in itself doesn't make sense. But it is a wooded trail along the Wolf River and somewhere different to ride. It is shared with bicycles and hikers and that always make things interesting. But the trails aren't marked well and we had trouble figuring out which trails we could be on. The sign that said we would have a court date if found on wrong trail was not comforting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It ended up being a great ride up and down ditches and we managed to make only one man hiker mad. He gave us "the look" because he had to turn his Fitbit off and let us by. I wanted to tell him "the look" really didn't bother women out riding. We just smiled and went on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our almost disaster came when we came upon a narrow wood bridge with no side rails. I wasn't sure it was made for horses and was about 20 feet over a ditch. The biggest problem is there was a long dead tree propped over it and held up by a tree on the other side. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It looked like enough room to duck under on one side. The first rider on a smaller horse did this and almost scraped her back but made it under. I decided to lead mine. I got off and was able to walk under it. The third rider then tried to lead her horse across but her saddle horn caught the tree and brought the tree down on the horse's neck. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now they are still on the bridge and she was trying to help the horse but the horse kept coming and the tree was then resting on her neck. She was able to get her off the bridge and then was holding the tree by her arms and resting it on her helmet. I ran to hold it up also but it was too heavy. The third rider jumped off and came.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">What happened next was a sweet moment to me that I won't forget. I cried out, "Lord help us" at the same time that my friend cried out, "God, help us." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">At that moment we were able to lift the tree up enough for her to pull the horse's head to her and then we couldn't hold it and the tree fell to the ground. Such a scary moment that seemed to last forever. Both the rider and horse are a little sore but seem ok. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I remember it as a bad scary moment but also God's deliverance. We were able to go on and finish a good ride.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress."</i> Psalm 107:6</span><br />
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-70436070367249529222016-02-10T06:52:00.002-06:002016-02-10T06:52:47.559-06:00Shiloh- My New Ride<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Isf79-nzfElrFMWmi27RjOt9BhD18pEb1XIlLahN023jDUsti06b4qWWZPyQ76-h-G2UwQYwB68XlrNpr7hPNOSR9zoJzQC6jT10aw8zcJ8EBUiiWK4BNwXDkENelSW8fiPTqReu3oo/s1600/1510_DSC08813_093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Isf79-nzfElrFMWmi27RjOt9BhD18pEb1XIlLahN023jDUsti06b4qWWZPyQ76-h-G2UwQYwB68XlrNpr7hPNOSR9zoJzQC6jT10aw8zcJ8EBUiiWK4BNwXDkENelSW8fiPTqReu3oo/s640/1510_DSC08813_093.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Gracie will always be my number one horse. She is fifteen and should have plenty of years left or at least as long as my riding years are left. But she was off for a year that I couldn't ride her because she was lame. She is in great shape now but I still decided I needed a back up horse. I think I have found it in a eight year gelding I named Shiloh.<br />
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<span id="goog_277251525"></span><span id="goog_277251526"></span><br />Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-78558616577934047612016-01-28T04:39:00.003-06:002016-01-28T04:39:55.452-06:00He Stilled the Storm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOW_q0kJbKYIDhi0xnEh4cslE8Lx_MNIvafUD8RDPVd7ZosFDseANs6sDYPOmLsrg5Jd7YA-jPTGlZMkwZyrzg6kvuT-GeCMuvDnQiQ415gMJUhdg9zQ3SfCchlO_34rEUVYiH_D_6dAI/s1600/1505_DSC06363_408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOW_q0kJbKYIDhi0xnEh4cslE8Lx_MNIvafUD8RDPVd7ZosFDseANs6sDYPOmLsrg5Jd7YA-jPTGlZMkwZyrzg6kvuT-GeCMuvDnQiQ415gMJUhdg9zQ3SfCchlO_34rEUVYiH_D_6dAI/s640/1505_DSC06363_408.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Psalms 107:24 </div>
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They saw the works of the Lord, his wonderful deeds in the deep. For he spoke and stirred up a tempest that lifted high the waves. They mounted up to the heavens and went down to the depths; </div>
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<b>in their peril their courage melted away<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: normal;">… </span></b></div>
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they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and he brought them out of their distress. </div>
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<b>He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed.</b></div>
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<b> They were glad when it grew calm,<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: normal;"> </span></b></div>
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and he guided them to their desired haven. </div>
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Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">James 1:1 says to count it pure joy when we go through a trial.Then in James1:2-8 he uses the metaphor of a stormy sea and says we will encounter storms in this life, and without faith we will be "like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Storms are a part of Christian life. I can pray for Him to calm the waves but also must be faithful in the storm. Remember Jesus' words in Mark 4 in the midst of a storm</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Peace, Be Still. </span></div>
Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-4414720315134190692016-01-24T06:34:00.003-06:002019-10-23T04:43:10.366-05:00God is in the Wilderness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjA-B3KfgdCw-EELEp-LShgeGeTgYewMowJY5ZkF5qtFCC92fgpcgmr5vUxxwuKx6T3PujASdJH15iymBfXPSc76YtU_QaobbSx8aVYpr0X4Aq5vNH0GMClfckVBAw4P2N3EN01jpbmEw/s1600/1601_DSC00190_133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjA-B3KfgdCw-EELEp-LShgeGeTgYewMowJY5ZkF5qtFCC92fgpcgmr5vUxxwuKx6T3PujASdJH15iymBfXPSc76YtU_QaobbSx8aVYpr0X4Aq5vNH0GMClfckVBAw4P2N3EN01jpbmEw/s640/1601_DSC00190_133.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">In the book, "Wounded by God’s people by Ann Graham Lotz," Ann writes</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">“A wilderness is defined as an uncultivated, uninhabited, inhospitable region. I would also describe a wilderness as dry, barren, lonely, and rocky. And it was in a spiritual wilderness that I found myself several years ago. Because it was a time in my life that was dry… seemingly devoid of the rain of God’s blessing; barren… seemingly devoid of evidence of real fruit in my life; lonely… devoid of any conscious awareness of God’s presence; and it was rocky… littered with problems and obstacles and hard things.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhesX5XMuh_bNsCXkHR-4JxX_I3Kfheg4FzcheSHLrSSYg7jxIIGVrKqNk4mrtZl8NQttQBHQgSs4zd2b2GD03DheyeAaz02mWkzF0QnRlMEtwJBIrroep4b1i9Qt3nEgoOcsJY-2UVSU/s1600/1601_DSC00172_115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhesX5XMuh_bNsCXkHR-4JxX_I3Kfheg4FzcheSHLrSSYg7jxIIGVrKqNk4mrtZl8NQttQBHQgSs4zd2b2GD03DheyeAaz02mWkzF0QnRlMEtwJBIrroep4b1i9Qt3nEgoOcsJY-2UVSU/s320/1601_DSC00172_115.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">One morning, I (Anne) intended to open my Bible to the verses on which I had been meditating the day before. But as divine providence would have it, I made a “mistake.” Instead I opened to a chapter that was several pages past where I had been. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">The people remained at a distance, while Moses approached the thick darkness where God was. Exodus 20:21</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">The verse seemed to be illuminated. It leaped up off the page as I heard God whispering to me through the words, Anne, most people shy away from the wilderness. They don’t like the darkness of oppression, loneliness, dryness, barrenness. They don’t like to be in a hard place. If they think I’m going to lead them there, they resist, back off, and want no part of following Me. But, Anne, Moses approached the thick darkness. Because that’s where I was. And that’s where I still am, Anne. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Embrace the darkness.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Before I could answer Him, before I could even pray, almost before I could even think, I found myself turning several pages back to where I was “supposed” to have been reading. The first verse of that reading was,</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">While Aaron was speaking to the whole Israelite community, they looked toward the desert, and there was the glory of the Lord appearing in the cloud. Exodus 16:10</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">The desert is another name for the wilderness! That dry, barren, rocky, lonely place where I seemed to be. And I knew God was telling me, Anne, I am here. Look closely. You will see My glory in the dark cloud. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">God is in the darkness and God is in the wilderness.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I<b>n Matthew 11:7 Jesus ask “…What did you go out into the wilderness to see?”</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Who am I going into the wilderness to see? Am I willing to meet Jesus there?</span></b></div>
Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-30008728217613863082016-01-20T03:46:00.003-06:002016-01-20T03:51:39.585-06:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNipZ9I-Dbkz6iAfRYT656-5X1OnB5sodcS2QvFJjWG0iGfD-uMRQQJ5hr6QBOcXlaGueHxVhndRM_Q_0YdxVudYNN7al7og8t5DqcB7Ej8vndf5jsfDx57NxcEqTJhjoF3F3cGVqUD4/s1600/1509_DSC08438_011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNipZ9I-Dbkz6iAfRYT656-5X1OnB5sodcS2QvFJjWG0iGfD-uMRQQJ5hr6QBOcXlaGueHxVhndRM_Q_0YdxVudYNN7al7og8t5DqcB7Ej8vndf5jsfDx57NxcEqTJhjoF3F3cGVqUD4/s640/1509_DSC08438_011.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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If I want to walk down the wrong road, I must begin by silencing </div>
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God’s Divine Voice </div>
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within me.</div>
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Psalm 119:133</div>
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Direct my footsteps according to your word. </div>
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Let no sin rule over me.</div>
Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1237084754808048458.post-66748294517304243932016-01-16T12:44:00.000-06:002016-01-20T03:44:47.452-06:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Fearfully and Wonderfully Made From Max Lucado, </div>
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Every year tens of thousands of women attend the Women of Faith conferences. One reason they do is to hear words of comfort. After hearing one speaker after another describe God’s compassion for each of his children, an attendee sent this e-mail.<br />
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In the movie Hook, Peter Pan had grown up, become old and overweight, and looked nothing like the Peter the lost boys knew. In the midst of the boys shouting that this was NO<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">T Peter, one of the smallest boys took him by the hand and pulled him down to his level. He then placed his hands on Peter’s face and proceeded to move the skin around, reshaping his face. The boy looked into Peter’s eyes and said, “There you are, Peter!” </span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">I brought a lot with me to Women of Faith, things that only God could see. But throughout the weekend I could feel God’s hands on my face, pushing away all of the “stuff ” I had brought. And then I could hear Him say, “There you are. There you are!” </span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br />Shhh. Listen. Do you hear? God is saying the same words to you. Finding the beauty the years bury, the sparkle that time tries to take. Seeing you and loving the you he sees. “There you are. There you are.”</span><br />
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According to him you were “skillfully wrought” (Ps. 139: 15). You were “fearfully and wonderfully made” (Ps. 139: 14). He can’t stop thinking about you! If you could count his thoughts of you, “they would be more in number than the sand” (Ps. 139: 18). Why does he love you so much? The same reason the artist loves his paintings or the boat builder loves his vessels. You are his idea. And God has only good ideas. “For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago” (Eph. 2: 10 NLT).</div>
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Brendahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09267875556376642665noreply@blogger.com1