tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54766046269949580752024-03-14T11:15:08.887-04:00New beginnings...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-76185899048166028162018-11-29T20:05:00.002-05:002018-11-29T20:05:26.963-05:00Thanksgiving Would Come, But Would I Be There?I rarely write stories. I don't consider myself a particularly good writer, but I had the time and the story on hand so I took a stab at it (so to speak). Here's what I wrote that cold night in New York:<br />
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"Today is Tuesday November 20, 2018.</div>
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I left school promptly after an early dismissal to make my way up to Vermont for Thanksgiving break with family. Travel was going well, the car was getting good gas mileage, and I was even self-controlled and avoided eating junk food for supper. About midway through New York, snow began coming down. The snow was on and off, mostly off, so I was able to go at a steady pace for most of the trip.<br />
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Things really started to get interesting once I got on the dark and solitary back roads. They were covered with a dusting of snow at best, so I drove slowly to be safe. There were hardly any other cars out driving and only a few houses sprinkled here and there. I could imagine myself sliding off the road and freezing to death, alone. Nonetheless, I saw that I only had about 25 miles to go and thought I recognized where I going in the dark. My hopes were up!</div>
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My hopes were up, that is, until I heard the GPS tell me to take a right turn onto Boat Dock drive. I looked at the GPS and saw my projected path going east across Lake Champlain. There were no cars around so I frantically looked on my phone (in the middle of an intersection) to see if my avoid-fairies-at-all-costs setting had been turned off. The only thing I could figure was that when I reset my network settings, my smartphone wasn’t smart enough to avoid ferries at all costs.</div>
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The most logical thing for me to do besides panic seemed to be checking to find out if a ferry was indeed running. To my surprise, there was someone in the booth!</div>
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“We’re in New York, right?” I asked the lady.</div>
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After asking me if I knew where I was (with slight condescension), I asked how far around the lake the drive would be, and if the ferry was still running. </div>
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It would be a 30-mile drive to the bridge crossing, 25 miles north to the ferry dock on the other side, and 12 more miles north to Burlington (my final destination) from there.</div>
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So, in other words, I would be driving for an hour and a half more.</div>
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"Is there a ferry running tonight by chance?" I asked, skeptically.</div>
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“Yes!" she said. "There is one more running tonight at 8:30."</div>
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So here I sit on snow-covered Lane Three waiting for a ferry to come out of the inky blackness. I had a good laugh about the whole thing on the phone with my wife (who hasn’t seen me in over a week), but she didn’t join in the merriment.</div>
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I’ve been praying to be a more positive person, so here is my opportunity, just in time for Thanksgiving.<br />
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I’m thankful for a warm car, a bathroom nearby (it’s heated so I will take longer than necessary), an actually-running ferry with one last journey tonight, and the relaxing sounds of cold, dark waves lapping on the western shores of Lake Champlain. </div>
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Happy Thanksgiving!"</div>
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-10266744981543832422015-08-08T18:11:00.000-04:002015-08-08T18:11:04.070-04:00Why do I care for orphans? #showhopebloggersI don't remember when I first heard about adoption or orphans. Probably very young since my family has members who are adopted. But it seemed amazing to me. That love would bind you so to another human being. <br />
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We went to an Andrew Peterson "Behold the Lamb of God" concert a few years ago. And he shared about the cause of orphans. And he shared how not everyone is called to adopt, but everyone is called to do something, to help.<br />
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So as a Christian, I care for orphans because I am to be Jesus' hands and feet in the promise He made that He does not leave us alone or abandoned. We are called to be a part of fulfilling that promise. There are many ways to do that. <br />
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Here are a few.<br />
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1) <a href="http://bringlove.in/sponsor-a-forever-family/">Bring In Love</a> is this crazy amazing organization that creates families from widows and orphans. A direct fulfillment of James 1:27. <br />
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2) <a href="http://showhope.org/">Show Hope</a> is a place that creates grants for families trying to bring home an orphan. ministry.<br />
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They also have special needs care centers where they care for orphans with special needs. This is an amazing<br />
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3) Find a family who is trying to adopt and ask them how to help. <br />
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4) Do you know a family who has adopted? Ask them how to support them. Just because an orphan is now in a family doesn't mean the journey is over.<br />
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I care for orphans because I am bound to them by love. The love of Jesus and the love for a child who deserves to be in a home...to have a love so brilliant it binds them into a forever home.Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-19263991284588025572015-08-02T10:42:00.001-04:002015-08-02T10:42:15.597-04:00What does it mean to be a child of God? #showhopeblogger<div>
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It was in high school, sophomore year when I clung to God as my Father. Before then I had never really given it much thought that God was called "Father" in the Bible. My Bible teacher gave us a handout with different names of God and said to mark the ones that spoke to us. "Father" was on there. I remember wanting to call Him something personal in my devotional journalings so I called Him "Papa." My own version of "Abba." <div>
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To be a child of God is to have love. Unconditional love. To have support and strength that is not my own. It is to have a safe haven. To be accepted beyond my action but because I am His own child.</div>
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This month is Adoption Aid month. I encourage you to find a <a href="https://login.showhope.org/aspx/Adoption_Aid_Month">way </a>to bring home children to families. That the human family would be an example of the heavenly family we all have.</div>
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Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-35071296740241148722015-03-02T10:28:00.001-05:002015-03-02T10:28:04.388-05:00What is one of your favorite stories of adoption? #showhopebloggers<div style="text-align: left;">
I grew up reading and hearing adoption stories. It thrilled my heart then, and it still thrills my heart now to hear those stories. Yet one of my favorite stories of adoption is one that is happening right now. One that doesn't have the "happily-ever-after" ending. This is a story of unconditional love. Love that loves without knowing what the end will look like.</div>
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The family I want to share about is trying to adopt from the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) but on September 25, 2013 the country issues a suspension on exit letters. Which means that even if the adoptive families have <i>everything else </i>needed to take their child home, that they cannot. The child is stuck in the DRC.</div>
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(First time the mother met her daughter.)</div>
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I remember hearing from this family that they were hoping to have their adopted daughter home by Christmas 2013, then the suspension came. The suspension was to last a maximum of one year. It was heartbreaking to watch this family wait. As the time got closer to a year, they and all who support them, began to hope again that soon the little girl could come home to her family.</div>
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Then on September 25, 2014 the families were told that the suspension would be indefinite. There was no end to this waiting. Only to hope and pray. There are no guarantees that the suspension will ever lift. No guarantee that they will ever be able to bring their daughter home. </div>
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So why is this my favorite story of adoption? Because <i>this is the heart of adoption</i>. It is about loving a child more than yourself and your own comfort. It is about reaching across the miles and continents and saying, "I love you and will not stop loving you no matter what." </div>
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(The most recent visit with mother and daughter.)</div>
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There are many, many families in the same situation. Would you take a minute and pray and sign this <a href="https://petitions.whitehouse.gov/petition/end-drc-exit-letter-suspension-children-legally-adopted-american-families/GF9Qrb5L">petition </a>to help bring this matter to the attention of the President? It only takes a few seconds and then you need to confirm it in your email. Please spread the word and pray. Pray like crazy for all the children and families that are stuck waiting. </div>
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This is my favorite adoption story because it's about unconditional love. </div>
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Let's share in this story and bring these children home.</div>
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Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-47728809223339525212015-01-13T09:48:00.003-05:002015-01-13T10:03:11.698-05:00Nursing My Son (or how I couldn't)I had many ideas of what motherhood would look like. One of those ideas is that I would nurse my son. I remember going to the birthing classes at the local hospital and having them talk about nursing. I paid attention to all the information about nursing but brushed aside the discussion of pumping and freezing/thawing milk, After all, I was going to be a stay-at-home mom and <i>just</i> nurse my baby. Friends even recommended getting a few bottles in case I wanted to go out and have Matthew watch the baby. I didn't take it seriously but bought a few anyway. <br />
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Besides, how hard could it be? It was natural right? Babies came out suckling and with skin-to-skin time I was sure everything would be fine.<br />
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Then I had an emergency cesarean. There was no skin-to-skin time. There was no bassinet in my room. There was a brief glance. A kiss to his sweet head. A few pictures. And then he was whisked away to the NICU. I wouldn't get to see him for hours. Even then I was draped in an extra hospital gown to keep germs from my baby. <br />
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I was given a hospital pump. And I pumped. Every three hours for fifteen minutes I pumped. No milk. Only blood from my raw skin. <br />
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I told the NICU to give my son formula. I wasn't going to deny him food simply because I couldn't supply him with milk. I kept trying to pump. Around the clock. Every three hours. Nothing.<br />
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Finally I was allowed to try and nurse my sweet Edmund. He couldn't latch on, or I didn't know how to latch him on. The nurse said I needed a nursing shield to help him latch because of how my body was formed.<br />
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That day my milk came in. Still, it was barely anything. <br />
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So we bought a nursing shield and I was able to nurse him on both sides for a few minutes. I have no idea if he got anything but I felt joy at being able to nurse him. <br />
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I continued to pump. My last pumping sessions before we were discharged from the NICU and hospital were the most profitable. I even had my husband take a picture to remember that I actually had milk!<br />
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So we went home, with formula and a Medela Double electric pump. For the first week home I pumped, nursed, and did a bottle with breastmilk if I had enough and formula if I didn't. Still, I was confident that soon I would excursively breastfeed.<br />
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From about the second week to the second month I fell into a routine where I would nurse and then pump extra so that someone else could take a feeding and let me sleep extra at least once a day. Around two months my son began to refuse to nurse. I would position him to nurse, and he would arch back from me and cry.<br />
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If you have never experienced this, you simply cannot understand how hard that was. I cried with him. I couldn't figure out why he wouldn't nurse. I talked to my pediatrician and various lactation consultants. I talked to other mother friends and researched on the internet. I tried their suggestions. But he refused. So I began a new pattern. I would try to nurse him at each feeding. If he nursed at all, great, if not--I tried my best not to feel depressed or anxious and would give him pumped milk from the previous feeding. Then when he was full I would pump to have enough for the next meal. <br />
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I was so discouraged. I hated to leave the house because it was so complicated to feed him. I had to keep the breast milk cool and then heat it. If I was out in town I had to bring cooler bags and a bottle heater I had bought and plug it into the car. Yet, I was determined that if I couldn't nurse I would absolutely give my son breast milk. I wanted to give him that.<br />
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I began to feel that I should even give up trying to nurse him each time. It was exhausting emotionally to try each time and fail. <br />
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Then we went up to visit family in Pennsylvania. I decided that I would just pump and feed Edmund while we were up there because I didn't want to be stressed about it all when I was with family. I just wanted to enjoy the time. But I was still very discouraged about not being able to nurse. It was supposed to be natural and bonding and I was missing out on that. I felt like a failure.<br />
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I began to realize that I was going to be freezing a lot of breast milk. I already had a bunch frozen at home and now that I was just pumping I ended up with 10-14 extra ounces each day. Just about the time I realized this God placed a thought in my head. <br />
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A friend had recently adopted a baby. Would it be weird to offer this mother my extra breast milk? Did people even do that? But I felt impressed to offer. So I did. <br />
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"<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17.9400005340576px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am pumping my breast milk because Edmund and I can't seem to get it to work. But that means I am pumping 10-14 extra ounces a day. I have been freezing it. I heard that some people like to have breast milk for their baby even if it is from someone else. I realize it is kind of a weird thing, but if you wanted my extra breast milk I would be happy to give it to you. ..... </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17.9400005340576px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Again, I realize it sounds weird, but I just wanted you to have it-- if you wanted it." </span><br />
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Can you see how I felt awkward offering? Yet, God (who know all things) knew I was supposed to offer.<br />
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She replied, "<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17.9400005340576px; white-space: pre-wrap;">God bless you! I have tears in my eyes reading your message. I have been searching online to find people willing to donate breast milk...."</span><br />
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I had <i>no idea </i>that she was even looking for people to donate breast milk. God did. All of a sudden I wasn't discouraged or depressed about pumping. I felt as if I had been given a double gift. I could feed my son breast milk <i>and</i> give it to another little precious baby! A double blessing. One I would not have been able to give if I had been able to solely breastfeed. <br />
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It wasn't even a week later that I tried to nurse Edmund again for the first time. And he nursed. Only one side but he nursed and was full. The first feeding each morning I could nurse him. Still I was able to pump extra to give. <br />
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We went home and I continued to freeze the extra milk so that I could ship it. And...little by little I began trying to introduce one feeding back at a time. <br />
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And he nursed. Not like I had imagined. One side, 3-5 minutes and he was done. But he was full. He was nursing. Soon he was nursing at every feeding and would just take a bottle during the last feeding when he would cluster feed.<br />
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Months passed like this. But I still pumped in the morning after he nursed. Soon I had over 900 oz to ship.<br />
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My pumping was not in vain. My anxiety and depression over not being able to nurse was not in vain. I was able to have a double blessing to give. And, it seemed that I was being given back the blessing of being able to nurse. Almost as if God allowed me to not be able to nurse so that I would pump and be able to donate my breast milk and once I was donating, to allow Edmund to nurse again. There was no rhyme or reason why he nursed again. He just did. Just like there was no rhyme or reason why he stopped. <br />
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The day Edmund turned seven months old he nursed the whole day without needing the bottle. I could have wept tears of joy. <br />
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But I decided that I would not give up pumping. I wanted to continue to give from this double blessing. <br />
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Soon I will be pumping less as I get ready to tell my body that I don't need to make as much, in preparation for weaning Edmund. But for now, I save every extra ounce and praise God for the incredible blessing of being able to pump. <br />
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I feel joy in saying that I am glad I couldn't exclusivity nurse Edmund in the beginning. Glad I had to pump. Because then I could give. God gave me a double blessing.<br />
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I feel joy in saying that God also gave me a triple blessing because now I do exclusively nurse my son. <br />
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This is not the journey I imagined when I was pregnant. <br />
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But because it is different, harder in ways, I have more blessings to count.<br />
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<br />Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-7390261562355033462014-12-28T21:59:00.000-05:002014-12-28T21:59:30.935-05:00ReverenceMany people talk about reverence in a church's sanctuary, and most of us have an opinion about what it should look like. What should reverence look like? I am increasingly convinced that in all truthfulness reverence is far more humble and holy than I would have expected from myself or others. But God is a <i>holy</i>, <i>perfect</i> God. These thoughts carried over into my whole religious experience within a matter of hours. I felt that I could not approach God because I am not reverent enough, and my idea of reverence, and holy, is rather irreverent, and unholy. And then I read this passage tonight:<br />
<br />
"A certain man from [the Gadarenes] [met Jesus] who had demons for along time....When he saw Jesus, he cried out, fell down before Him, and with a loud voice said, 'What have I to do with You, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg You, do not torment me!...' For [the unclean spirit] had often seized him, and he was kept under guard, bound with chains and shackles; and he broke the bonds and was driven by the demon into the wilderness....Then they went out to see what had happened, and came to Jesus, and found the man from whom the demons had departed, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind....Now the man from whom the demons had departed begged Him that he might be with Him."<br />
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When I think back to my past, like this demoniac I was often irreverent in prayer and action. I am often still unholy in my thoughts toward God, careless and indifferent more than I ought to be. But God still loves me just as Jesus still loved this demon-controlled man.<br />
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God's love toward us in our irreverence, and complete unholiness, is so, so very good, that we are compelled to come to Him in true reverence. The love of God for us in our worst is what brings us to our best. Our thanksgiving in His love is the beginning true reverence. For the record, I am thankful that God is love.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-87919961874601224762014-10-01T10:04:00.003-04:002014-10-01T10:05:29.109-04:00Dedication: I almost missed itSabbath, July 5, 2014 we had Edmund dedicated at the Livingston Fellowship church. My father and brother were there to stand up with us.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5qOCZ4soV8AEf-7bIsq5GZ08hlcNOmlU-cAFm7cr54o0DNv9UIlWon1SZRf3XtJYu1jAK4vYfL8e1bYxDU1wJ1YnarNIZHl9Rq0oYUPDCv1M0zWavq0KxN9aHs9ZDWvC4dqEl3YPjrW4/s1600/IMG_8381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5qOCZ4soV8AEf-7bIsq5GZ08hlcNOmlU-cAFm7cr54o0DNv9UIlWon1SZRf3XtJYu1jAK4vYfL8e1bYxDU1wJ1YnarNIZHl9Rq0oYUPDCv1M0zWavq0KxN9aHs9ZDWvC4dqEl3YPjrW4/s1600/IMG_8381.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a><br />
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I have to admit that I did not expect to be emotional about it at all. I thought it would just be a happy event with smiles and no tears. And it was a happy event. But there were tears too. At least for me. <br />
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John Cook did the dedication and prayer of dedication, but before that he shared a few Bible verses. <br />
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Deuteronomy 6:5-9<br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Deut-6-5" id="en-NIV-5092" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">5 </span>Love<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5092J" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5092J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> the <span class="small-caps" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> your God with all your heart<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5092K" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5092K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> and with all your soul and with all your strength.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5092L" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5092L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Deut-6-6" id="en-NIV-5093" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">6 </span>These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5093M" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5093M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Deut-6-7" id="en-NIV-5094" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">7 </span>Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5094N" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5094N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Deut-6-8" id="en-NIV-5095" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">8 </span>Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5095O" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5095O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Deut-6-9" id="en-NIV-5096" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">9 </span>Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Deut-6-9" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Deut-6-9" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;">As soon as John said Deuteronomy 6:5 I looked at Matthew. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Deut-6-9" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Deut-6-9" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Deut-6-9" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;">That is the verse we had chosen for Edmund's Bible verse. We chose it no knowing John would use it, and he didn't know that it was special to us. This is just one of the many ways God shows His love and presence in our lives.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Deut-6-9" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Deut-6-9" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;">These are the other two verses.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Deut-6-9" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Matthew 18:2-6</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Matt-18-2" id="en-NIV-23730" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them.</span> <span class="text Matt-18-3" id="en-NIV-23731" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">3 </span>And he said: <span class="woj" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-23731B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23731B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-23731C" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23731C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span></span> <span class="text Matt-18-4" id="en-NIV-23732" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">4 </span>Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-23732D" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23732D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span> <span class="text Matt-18-5" id="en-NIV-23733" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">5 </span>And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me. </span></span><span class="text Matt-18-6" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">6 </span>“If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-23734F" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23734F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Mark 10:13-16</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Mark-10-13" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">13 </span>People were bringing little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them, but the disciples rebuked them.</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Mark-10-14" id="en-NIV-24603" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">14 </span>When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, <span class="woj" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24603L" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24603L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Mark-10-15" id="en-NIV-24604" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><span class="woj" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">15 </span>Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24604M" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24604M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Mark-10-16" id="en-NIV-24605" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">16 </span>And he took the children in his arms,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-24605N" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-24605N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> placed his hands on them and blessed them.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Mark-10-16" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span>
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Before the prayer of dedication John asked Matthew and I three questions. <br />
Do you as parents confirm your commitment to a surrendered life in Jesus Christ?<br />
By God's grace will you raise your child in the love and truth of Jesus our Lord and Savior?<br />
Do you dedicate your child into the hand of our compassionate Almighty God, desiring His glorious will for Edmund's life?<br />
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As John asked those questions I felt this feeling overwhelm me, <i>This almost wasn't me. I almost wasn't here to say, "Yes!" to these questions</i>.<br />
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There was a time in high school where I was sure that though God existed, He did not care about me, and so I did not care about Him. But through the loving faith of others I saw His love for me and began on a new journey to know Him.<br />
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Standing there, holding Edmund with Matthew's hand on my waist I felt all I would have missed. My relationship with Matthew began because of our individual relationships with God and wanting to serve Him. Our marriage is loving and strong today because we kept committing ourselves to God even in the hard times- and we still do. We have Edmund because we prayed for God's will for us in having a family and God said, "Yes!"<br />
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Then John asked the church family these questions:<br />
Will you join in dedicating this precious child to our gracious God?<br />
Will you love encourage and nurture and pray for this family?<br />
Will you assist in working toward a future day when this child and all our children will by God's grace make a personal decision for Jesus and for baptism?<br />
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<div>
Beyond just my amazing family of Edmund and Matthew I would have missed my church family. When I think of those in the church that are more than family to me, my heart swells. They are ones who have been Jesus' hands and feet in my life, in my marriage, and now there are some who are joining to partner up with Matthew and I as we raise Edmund for God.<br />
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This almost wasn't me. But it is. By God's amazing grace it is. I almost missed out on all this. <br />
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Sabbath, September 20, 2014 we had Edmund dedicated at Cookeville SDA church. The White's were there to celebrate with us. And Edmund was awake this time. <br />
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It is an amazing thing to dedicate your child to God, and to me the most amazing part is that there is this whole body of believers standing up next to you joining you in praying for your child to have a personal walk with Jesus and will be the village to help you do that.<br />
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I love this little boy. He is teaching me about God's love for me. I'm so thankful. So incredibly thankful that I said <i>Yes!</i> to Jesus all those years ago and didn't let bitterness take away all the joy that was to come.<br />
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Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-59438927862029782472014-09-23T09:33:00.001-04:002014-09-23T09:33:22.298-04:00Why I care for orphans (#showhopebloggers)I am sitting here next to my son. Watching him roll back to front and front to back. His little fingers are exploring the textures of his play mat, the rug, the hardwood floor, and wooden chest nearby. He lays on his stomach and smacks his feet against the ground. The feeling of hard against his soft skin is a new sensation and he strives to crawl. This child, born of my body and heart, takes up all my day. Even when he sleeps my heart is in there with him. <br />
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<img height="320" src="https://scontent-a-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xfa1/v/t1.0-9/q83/s720x720/10460107_10152111577422056_2786277174633636360_n.jpg?oh=b3ded1fdef6b4317d36b2b627349bdc2&oe=548C4139" width="240" /><br />
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Show Hope has asked me, as one of their bloggers, to answer the question: why do you care for orphans?<br />
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I care for orphans because as I love my son I think, doesn't everyone deserve to be loved like this? <br />
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<img height="240" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-f-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xpf1/v/t1.0-9/q85/p180x540/10420204_10152083922407056_3234996918856026106_n.jpg?oh=9f6554ca8ea78c088ffd990f72bbfcef&oe=54895FD7&__gda__=1421581012_739eb219a8aca7cb5616723ad4e4262c" width="320" /><br />
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I care for orphans because I cannot stand to think of a child alone. Without some to love them unconditionally. <br />
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And some children are adopted as infants. While others are teenagers. But why I care is because everyone deserves to have someone love them the way I love my son. To watch their growth and development with wonder and awe. To cuddle them when they are hurting or just for fun. <br />
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I care for orphans because my heart hurts to think of them alone. <br />
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If my son was an orphan, I would want someone to love him as I love him. <br />
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So I care for orphans because they deserve to have love take them in.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/beZ5hF-qZDY" width="480"></iframe>Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-85404691450708407922014-08-27T12:26:00.000-04:002014-08-27T12:26:19.716-04:00What Mother Are You? (What mother am I?)A few years ago I attended a conference and one of the major things I came away with was that you don't have to be defined by the best character traits (strong suites) or worst character traits you have. You can choose who you want to be and be it. As a Christian I really felt that it applied to giving Jesus control in your life. <br />
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And so at the time there were things I decided to change about myself. It was so freeing and liberating. <br />
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Recently I've come to another crossroad. Mommy-hood. Who on earth am I? And from previous experience I feel that I can choose the type of mother/homemaker I want to be. The question I find myself asking is who exactly is that?<br />
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Here are some stereotypes I've been thinking about.<br />
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The classic homemaker. <br />
She dresses simply and sort of rustic. Cans her own vegetables from her garden. Makes everything from scratch. She will be an educator for her children with amazing home activities. She appears quietly confident in her happy nest of a family.<br />
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The out-and-about fashion plate mother.<br />
This mother is always on the go and looks amazing while she does it. She looks amazing no matter what time you catch her and her kids do too. She appears confident and not frazzled by this craziness called motherhood. And yes, I want to be Princess Kate.<br />
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The frazzled mother. <br />
You know her. If you are a mother, you've probably been her. Hair a mess. Could care less about clothes. When you are around her, you feel stressed for her. <br />
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All of these stereotypes love their children and do what is best for them. Who on earth am I? <br />
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Sometimes I find myself weighing my answers to people's questions about me being a mother now, and a stay-at-home mom. Should I say what I think they want to hear? (And what "they" want to hear is different depending on the person.) How much should I say? (Not everyone really want or needs to know the full story.) <br />
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I want to pick and choose parts of the good mothers that I see, and not, I repeat NOT be the frazzled mother. But I feel frazzled at times. It seems like with a baby I should still be able to shower daily and do simple chores to keep the house clean. But somehow it isn't that easy. When I leave the house I love it and hate it. Love it because I like being out and about with my little boy. Hate it because it is so hard to do anything and I feel awkward. And lonely.<br />
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Did I mention that motherhood can be lonely? <br />
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I think it is lonely because my friends are trying to figure out who I am too. I used to be able to get up and go or stay out late or chat on the phone/text easily. But now it is harder. And people say things like, "I feel like we're not close anymore." I am still me, but now I have a little boy who not only captures my heart but also needs me. I have to put his needs above my wants. And so it is lonely at times. <br />
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I am trying to reinvent myself. Figure out who I am--now. <br />
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And I'll be honest it is harder than I thought. <br />
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As a P.S. I would like to say that I would never ever trade being Edmund's mama for anything. This post has nothing to do with the consuming and deep love I have for my precious son. Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-24937031687103186432014-08-05T14:55:00.000-04:002014-08-05T15:37:23.615-04:00Why Do Orphans Need Families?A while back Matthew and I became <a href="http://showhope.org/">Show Hope</a> Sponsors. Part of what Show Hope does is help create grants to give to families who are adopting. Adoption can be expensive so this is a way to help. As we have written before, not everyone is called to adopt, but we are all called to do <a href="http://whitemb.blogspot.com/2013/02/we-shall-be-called.html">something</a>.<br>
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Part of that something is that occasionally we will be blogging about adoption as Show Hope Bloggers. <br>
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So here's the first question: Why do orphans need families?<br>
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It almost seems like the answer is in the question. Of course there are many logical reasons. Good reasons that all of us should look at. <br>
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But for me is is simply about love. We each desire to be loved and give love and God created families for that. Every child needs to have a safe place to "come home to." Families are that unconditional love that is a safe haven. Orphans need families so they can feel safe in a love that will let them be angry, sad, excited, frustrated, joyful, happy, and all sorts of emotions.<br>
<br>A family is a special sort of love that you never stop needing or wanting. No matter how old. Orphans need families for that unconditional love that is an expression of God's love for each of us.<br>
<br><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsK2A89xdPuwKVcMZsptx0FLvrDIWxQV-y02qEzJntAkGSClr6_Zh-amnvUk8cmCmuqEKszrUNAc-KZklplmdcJ0d7dlN9mV2H8bIvY0nXWjQflLDvf5SAhvPJqiXrI3zs8ufQm6r_mfM/s640/blogger-image--1237927436.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsK2A89xdPuwKVcMZsptx0FLvrDIWxQV-y02qEzJntAkGSClr6_Zh-amnvUk8cmCmuqEKszrUNAc-KZklplmdcJ0d7dlN9mV2H8bIvY0nXWjQflLDvf5SAhvPJqiXrI3zs8ufQm6r_mfM/s640/blogger-image--1237927436.jpg"></a></div>Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-34803489856443753752014-05-15T19:06:00.001-04:002014-11-22T14:04:32.428-05:00Heart: Mine and HisOn April 8 I sat in my OB-GYN's waiting area holding three ultrasound pictures and trying not to break down sobbing. The last forty minutes I had spent in with the ultrasound tech--I thought it was a routine ultrasound to make sure everything was normal because I had been have some heart palpitation and felt that my heart was racing the week before. During the ultrasound the tech went back again and again to my little baby boy's heart. Picture after picture. Measurement after measurement. I knew she couldn't answer any questions so I stayed silent. And began to pray. At one point she gave me the three ultrasound pictures and had me lay on my left side to get a different measurement of his heart and as I held those pictures I prayed and prayed and tried very hard not to cry. Sometimes was wrong with my baby's heart and I didn't know what.<br />
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Sitting in the waiting area I texted Matthew--<br />
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Me: The whole ultrasound they looked at his heart :( please pray I feel close to tears.<br />
But they did say he has hair.<br />
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Can you see it?<br />
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Matthew: Were they concerned? Will they tell you more?<br />
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Me: The ultrasound person can't say anything. Waiting to see Dr. Pham. She [the ultrasound tech] asked me what lotion I used on my belly and if I drank caffeine :( and I don't know wy.<br />
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Matthew: Text or call when you're done please.<br />
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And as I sat there I thought, "This is why parenting is so hard."<br />
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It isn't about the late nights, or temper tantrums necessarily. It isn't about long nights of school projects or battle of wills. <br />
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Parenting is hard because my heart is this little boy. This little boy who I want all the best in the world for, who I want to protect and keep safe, and who I will always love more than myself--but who I cannot keep completely safe. He was inside of me growing and all of a sudden there was something wrong with his heart, and I couldn't do anything about it. And if I got to see him born and raise this child I loved so much, I realized then that it would always be hard because he was my heart walking around on legs. <br />
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When I was called back to see Dr. Pham she asked if she could listen to his heart and so I laid back on the table and she listened carefully for a few minutes. She then shared with me that they had detected a heart arrhythmia. His heart rate would change from one beat to another and while that is somewhat normal, his heart did it too much and too quickly. She was going to have me see a specialist to look at his heart with another ultrasound before they made any recommendations or decisions on what to do. <br />
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I called Matthew as I left the doctor's office. I cried. And cried.<br />
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We began calling and texting people, asking them to pray. So began the prayers that would cover our baby boy through out the process. <br />
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The specialist we were referred to has an outpatient site in our town, but their main office is 2 hours away in Chattanooga. But the outpatient site only runs Thursday and Monday. We wanted to get in as soon as possible, so after talking to the receptionist at my OB-GYN's office she said she would try to get an appointment tomorrow, Wednesday, down in Chattanooga--but would have to call me back in the morning because the other office was already closed. The receptionist said she came in at 8:30am and would call the office right away and get back to me.<br />
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I knew right away that I needed Matthew to come with me. I couldn't go down there to have another ultrasound of our baby's heart by myself. I prayed that the news would be that everything was alright, but I didn't know. <br />
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Wednesday, April 9 Matthew went in to work and I waited for the phone call to see if we could drive to Chattanooga that day. At 8:40ish the receptionist called to tell me that we had an appointment. She gave me the time and I called Matthew to tell him I was on my way to pick him up so we could make it in time to the appointment. I was relieved that we would know what was going on, but nervous about what we would see. <br />
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At the specialist we got into the ultrasound room, and at least this time I knew it was going to be all about the heart. And Matthew was there with me. After the tech finished doing all of her scans she said that the doctor would be with us in a few minutes. When the doctor came in he looked at the ultrasound. He explained to us that our baby boy had a very high heartbeat. It was hovering around 205/210 bpm when it should have been 150/160. He said that if I was earlier in my pregnancy that they would admit me to the hospital and try to slow down the baby's heart-rate, but at 38 weeks it was 6/half dozen one way or the other about what to do. He called Dr. Pham and they both agreed to admit me to Erlanger and try to slow down the hear-rate using digoxin and if that didn't work then they would deliver the baby by cesarean. <br />
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When the doctor said that they would admit me to the hospital and deliver that baby I asked, "Today?" He smiled and said yes. Matthew later told me that he thought it was a silly question for me to ask, until the doctor responded with a 'yes'. We were both in shock.<br />
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The doctor told us that like any muscle, if the heart is overworked, it can give out. That was terrifying to hear, and all I wanted was for them to take out baby boy out of me and fix the problem. <br />
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In a daze we left the office and drove the few block to the hospital. Parked, walked toward Labor & Delivery, signed in, and were admitted to a room. There were more phone calls, more prayers, and the love and support just poured forth. <br />
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<span style="text-align: left;">We had made all of our plans and preparations for having our baby back home, and this was a little difficult not having Dr. Pham there, who I totally trust and has been with me through my pregnancy. Our church family and school family were all two hours away, one who was going to do my epidural if I needed one. Thankfully, and I believe ordained by God, we were at a hospital near where many of our friends were and where one of our dearest friends worked in the NICU.</span></div>
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We were not alone. Soon after we were admitted one of our friends came in and through out that day friends came in. Some brought food, others flowers, all brought love, prayers, and support. <br />
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Matthew and I waited anxiously to have them put the medicine in my IV to see if it would slow down our baby boy's heart-rate. Hours passed. Apparently there was some difficulty with getting the medicine from the pharmacy. Meanwhile, we continued to watch the glowing red numbers that showed our son's racing heart. 190, 205, 200, 210--the numbers fluctuated but remained high. <br />
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An amazing friend from home brought us our "hospital bag" and other items we would need. How blessed are we to have such friends? And at the school Matthew's sub stayed on to take the days he would have to stay at the hospital. We are richly blessed. Everyone was supportive and praying. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBsAao0ORcGOfZg1hG6d-zFtFMFb09arrggLwC1W0dcjLKsDifBhbQeVcv-SuqyY-1B46lNvQCc7TXZ0PW3EPkQLdhXNWmG4uWDvulQlZ9fTXSWJR-VGuqK0avH4saOvLgwZkqIPBvNZY/s1600/IMG_0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBsAao0ORcGOfZg1hG6d-zFtFMFb09arrggLwC1W0dcjLKsDifBhbQeVcv-SuqyY-1B46lNvQCc7TXZ0PW3EPkQLdhXNWmG4uWDvulQlZ9fTXSWJR-VGuqK0avH4saOvLgwZkqIPBvNZY/s1600/IMG_0030.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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It was early afternoon when we were admitted and it was late evening when I finally got the first dose of medicine in my IV. Then came the long stretch of waiting through the night to see if there would be any changes to our son's heart-rate.<br />
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The elastic straps that held the heart monitor to my large belly tracked his heart-rate, and another tracked mine. I was also hooked up to a special heart monitor to make sure I stayed okay during the night with the medicine. I had two EKGs done, the second one because my heart kept changing speeds. <br />
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Throughout the long night I tried to get comfortable, but when I would lay on my side the monitor tracking our baby's heart would slip and the nurse would try to come quietly in and move it, but I always woke up. And almost every time I would ask if the heart-rate had slowed down. Each time it had not. The nurses were wonderful. Seriously wonderful. I could not have asked for better and kinder nurses.<br />
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Finally morning came. I was relieved after very little sleep and lots of anxiety. I spoke to one of the resident doctors who said that I was scheduled to have one last dose of medicine at 9:00 am and if that didn't work in 30 minutes then at 9:30 am I was scheduled for a cesarean. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TXTJdQjHUWgsZkJPZhTyXbJu2eZLV1PZwFxDBnuK3bFoIdu_oEkbZxOnuhqMJVDoSb1XkNFlUx-Cl_3d-tRPFp9Jz6cxBQFaCxn9plfg4SCvIDFAEiLPQKi3Wzy06in9po-8V5PfPJA/s1600/IMG_0013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TXTJdQjHUWgsZkJPZhTyXbJu2eZLV1PZwFxDBnuK3bFoIdu_oEkbZxOnuhqMJVDoSb1XkNFlUx-Cl_3d-tRPFp9Jz6cxBQFaCxn9plfg4SCvIDFAEiLPQKi3Wzy06in9po-8V5PfPJA/s1600/IMG_0013.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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The medicine came. No changes. We were brought to have another ultrasound. Dr. Torres was the doctor who saw us there and was very kind and informative. The heart-rate was not changed by the medicine and for the health and safety of the baby he would be delivered cesarean so they could more easily monitor his heart. We went back to the room expecting to be prepped for surgery, but then it was delayed to 10:30 am, then delayed again to 11:00 am. Each time the nurses or anyone came into the room my anxiety rose. <i>Were we going now? Was my baby about the be born? Would he be okay? </i><br />
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Thankfully three friends were there to wait with us and we chatted to keep me calm. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVNj7d1dsVsdQrb3LSBfCiSiLwI8hVBiYl4XV83fqPuyVf0Lj2lfYCnIk_KkvqdanjFy1tF_DnIAy9S_S8y6sJSAOZb8h4QJaiun36JcuagPeJa4KlJAIVM63R4iTYSBGPxva76b54R3Y/s1600/IMG_0033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVNj7d1dsVsdQrb3LSBfCiSiLwI8hVBiYl4XV83fqPuyVf0Lj2lfYCnIk_KkvqdanjFy1tF_DnIAy9S_S8y6sJSAOZb8h4QJaiun36JcuagPeJa4KlJAIVM63R4iTYSBGPxva76b54R3Y/s1600/IMG_0033.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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Then suddenly they came to prep me. They scrubbed my belly and talked me through a few things and then left to get the final thing ready.<br />
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That's when I started to become terrified. All that anxiety and fear and stress had built up and now it was crashing over me. I felt hot and scared and like I couldn't breathe. Matthew rubbed my back, read the Bible to me, and kept holding me close to Jesus. If I could have dreamed up a more patient, strong, brave, compassionate husband I could not have done better than what God has given me in Matthew.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZShNROsn9BBHfIRAxtXcL7FtsFiZ_cNCHrC_u6J64hHwElwOEyEWOCe0Vp8o51onFm2WwYYi65BZTzQUDaYck9w5y0GFAqmnFYsXV_tlVppf26E1W8bnDd2B5OmMxqoWafuqfiZ3o99k/s1600/IMG_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZShNROsn9BBHfIRAxtXcL7FtsFiZ_cNCHrC_u6J64hHwElwOEyEWOCe0Vp8o51onFm2WwYYi65BZTzQUDaYck9w5y0GFAqmnFYsXV_tlVppf26E1W8bnDd2B5OmMxqoWafuqfiZ3o99k/s1600/IMG_0032.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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I kept thinking, <i>What if I can't go through with this? What if I can't because I'm so afraid? </i>But I kept reminding myself that so many people were praying and I had to go through this. <br />
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One of the verses Matthew read to me was Psalm 27, which he had also read the night before. The last verse in Psalm 27 is this:<br />
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<span class="text Ps-27-14" id="en-NKJV-14300" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; position: relative;">Wait on the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>;</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-14" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; position: relative;">Be of good courage,</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-14" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; position: relative;">And He shall strengthen your heart;</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-27-14" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; position: relative;">Wait, I say, on the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>!</span><br />
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I didn't feel that it was a coincidence in the wording of that verse. God would strengthen our son's heart. I just had to wait on the Lord. His timing and ways. <br />
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My nurse, Alex came back to wheel me to the operating room but before she took me my friends and Matthew gathered around to pray--and Alex joined her hands with ours and prayed. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTcV8-aBbAkd2OdkZD_77sG0qOHdl0iIcxd60z2XshMM1YuCXxA_MGQRaF6eax10faLdtNI4Bhn6x6Cb8QhMm1yMGmuUuGdSfk7_scaHrkO-JRjS8LUACvKUEuk0RROWZw_lEXrzXm-sU/s1600/IMG_0034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTcV8-aBbAkd2OdkZD_77sG0qOHdl0iIcxd60z2XshMM1YuCXxA_MGQRaF6eax10faLdtNI4Bhn6x6Cb8QhMm1yMGmuUuGdSfk7_scaHrkO-JRjS8LUACvKUEuk0RROWZw_lEXrzXm-sU/s1600/IMG_0034.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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I was taken into the OR room and Matthew was to wait outside, get dressed in scrubs, and wait to be called in. I sat on the table, which was smaller than I thought it would be, and the CRNA, Elisha and her assistant began to put in my spinal tap. It burned and the pressure sensation made me feel intense pressure and some pain. I felt alone, but Alex was standing to my left and I reached out and held onto her hand. I would squeeze it when the pain was great and she just stood with me and was such an incredible comfort. Once it was completed they laid me back on the table and began to put up the divider so we wouldn't be able to see the surgery. They did a "test" and asked if I could feel anything, I couldn't -- and I was relieved. I didn't want to feel any part of that operation.<br />
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I began to feel very nauseated and dizzy. Sweat broke out and I felt awful. Quickly Elisha worked to stabilize my dropping blood pressure and Dr. Torres walked in. "There is a guy outside who is anxious to come in," he said. "Should we let him?" "Yes," I replied, weak but needing Matthew more than ever.<br />
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There were sounds of the nurses and doctors getting ready to operate. I heard someone say, "Scalpel." And I was afraid that they weren't going to let Matthew in, in time. "Bring in her husband." I heard Dr. Torres say, and then there was Matthew. My arms were each spread out like a cross and I reach my right hand to Matthew and said, "I'm glad you're here." He held my hand and the surgery began. Through out the surgery Matthew and I quoted Bible verses, hymn lyrics, and spiritual songs. He continued a funny story about Mei Mei and Nani (our bassets) that he began when I was panicking in the room before. I focused on Matthew and the words he was saying, not on the surgery. Yet, I waited--waited to hear our son's first cry.<br />
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Then I was told I was going to feel a lot of pressure. I felt, what I think, was two nurses pressing on me, right by my rib-cage. Elisha said, "They are pushing because you can't." And I knew that soon our baby would be born. Matthew kept talking with me and then I heard a cry. Then silence. I looked at Matthew silently praying for another cry. To know our son was okay. Then the beautiful sound of cry after cry. I looked at Matthew with tears in my eyes and saw his eyes were filled with tears. There are no words to describe hearing the first cries of your child. We were parents. We were a family. <br />
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Dr. Torres came over to the side and showed us our son all fresh from the womb and crying. Then whisked him back over to the NICU nurses who were there to assess him and get him ready. Matthew was able to go over and see him and came back to sit with me. Still holding my hand. He was so amazing the whole time.<br />
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Alex, my nurse came over and said, "I'm dying to know his name." I said, "Edmund." She smiled and looked like it reminded her of something. So I said, "From the Chronicles of Narnia." "That's what I was thinking!" she said. <br />
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Someone came over to tell us that his heart-rate was still high and they would be taking him to the NICU. I continued to pray for Edmund's heart. Achingly wishing I could do something to help him, but so thankful he was safely delivered and that the medical staff would do whatever they could to help him.<br />
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Then came the precious moment when they brought Edmund over to me. I couldn't hold him, oh how I ached to hold our precious boy. Matthew stood up and took Edmund in his arms. And then he bent down to me. And there was my perfect boy. The baby I had seen in ultrasounds and felt inside me. I kissed his cap covered head and whispered that I loved him. He wasn't crying and was just quietly swaddled and in his Daddy's arms. One of the nurses offered to take our picture and so we got our first family picture.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1QKCbFgKiUizIraJUBAoXcWweDt6VfV-dtoFDEHrjQPuezECRv2ZkvMNKpA6QG1eSElHCer0pI4tg7NfxfM7jCW9mThhMKbpD1yHW2FIxXhobJF7Noafbe4o5znJIDqxmyAoSQ6U6ziE/s1600/IMG_0036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1QKCbFgKiUizIraJUBAoXcWweDt6VfV-dtoFDEHrjQPuezECRv2ZkvMNKpA6QG1eSElHCer0pI4tg7NfxfM7jCW9mThhMKbpD1yHW2FIxXhobJF7Noafbe4o5znJIDqxmyAoSQ6U6ziE/s1600/IMG_0036.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><br />
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Matthew then went with the NICU people and Edmund. I began shaking and Elisha asked if I wanted a blanket, and I said I thought it was nerves, but I kept shaking. She was very kind and explained that they were sewing me up and it wouldn't be too long now. Then they would take me to recovery. As they began to take down the divider I looked at the board where Edmund's stats were and saw that his Apgar was 9/9. I felt happy and continued to pray for his heart. <br />
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The operating room staff rolled me onto a bed and pulled these wonderful warm covers over me. It felt amazing. They wheeled me into recovery where Matthew was waiting for me. I was so happy to see him. Once they settled me in Matthew and I called our parents and siblings to let them know that Edmund had been born and I was through surgery. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicLvvahI6cPLwA9b4pt9Gn4fcMeWsuJtbwn6EpsVA4n0QRunPIhmvCmhSF9eB-dUJgq0N0gc6MPTt4J78NLN_AslFMqUee-9vVTWVZr-dcTVqNAUDsmlkYmJLnb_JIG-zoogGrqaRDBxc/s1600/IMG_0044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicLvvahI6cPLwA9b4pt9Gn4fcMeWsuJtbwn6EpsVA4n0QRunPIhmvCmhSF9eB-dUJgq0N0gc6MPTt4J78NLN_AslFMqUee-9vVTWVZr-dcTVqNAUDsmlkYmJLnb_JIG-zoogGrqaRDBxc/s1600/IMG_0044.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><br />
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Matthew showed me pictures of our son that he had taken in the NICU and explained that he had gone with them but could only stay for a little and then was told he could go back in 45 minutes. Matthew went back and forth between Edmund and I. Caring and watching over us both. Each time he came back I hungrily looked at pictures and videos. Never tiring he took care of both of us as well as he could and created this atmosphere of love and security that cannot be valued enough. <br />
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These are some of the pictures Matthew showed me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdGkBcWd7TFMVUlofPMdrciBskiQWg2yz6exgnVAuquhPZ-5VJq3eQ3Yhuaxc-UePvt9L0iTAjgue64QDwy0Yvh33PQ8AeCrhmj98wDzh5NASikd1oDLHqEKUc9jkBLAat-8D6529Ogw/s1600/IMG_0037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdGkBcWd7TFMVUlofPMdrciBskiQWg2yz6exgnVAuquhPZ-5VJq3eQ3Yhuaxc-UePvt9L0iTAjgue64QDwy0Yvh33PQ8AeCrhmj98wDzh5NASikd1oDLHqEKUc9jkBLAat-8D6529Ogw/s1600/IMG_0037.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAaGW34TPGuGxHwfWWMLoYmWw_Dr-lcDKzSldgwjvDsnsw3EtKZwKA0iZwrvpJGHoY8K37cuvjtg8yFtwsoTEkXAZ9QipUC02H2spJkz7uTLVoEXdvpVyrxCSZy9HufzffzrAJ4aENBys/s1600/IMG_0046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAaGW34TPGuGxHwfWWMLoYmWw_Dr-lcDKzSldgwjvDsnsw3EtKZwKA0iZwrvpJGHoY8K37cuvjtg8yFtwsoTEkXAZ9QipUC02H2spJkz7uTLVoEXdvpVyrxCSZy9HufzffzrAJ4aENBys/s1600/IMG_0046.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><br />
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Once when Matthew left I asked for water, because I hadn't been able to eat or drink anything since midnight but then I was really nauseated -- mostly likely from the spinal tap medicine. But I could tell it was a different nausea than I had been dealing with for the last 9 months. <br />
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After being in recovery for about an hour I was wheeled to my new room where friends had been waiting. I wasn't allowed to go and see Edmund until I could move myself into a wheelchair. <br />
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One of the doctors came in from the NICU to brief Matthew and I on Edmund's progress. I don't remember how the exact conversation went but they said once he had been delivered and they re-examined his heart that he had atrial flutter. They told me that everything they were telling me had already been done. After that is when they told Matthew and I that they had shocked Edmund's heart and that it was not beating normally. I was glad they hadn't told me before that did that. I don't think I could have stood knowing that was going to happen. At the same time, hearing from the doctor that Edmund's heart was now beating normally and that they didn't expect any other problems was a relief I cannot express. <br />
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Edmund's tiny heart was strengthened. I praised and thanked God in my heart--knowing that He had answered our prayers.<br />
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Slowly I could feel my lower stomach, and then which leg was being squeezed in the leg compressor. Finally I could wiggle my toes, so Matthew and I asked the nurses if I could go to see Edmund. <br />
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Seeing and holding Edmund for the first time was a sweet peace of feeling that all was now right. It was not an adrenaline rush. It was almost exactly like when Matthew and I kissed on our wedding day for the first time. When we kissed, it was like this <i>knowing</i>. Complete peace that this was <i>right</i>. <br />
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When Edmund was placed in my arms. Bundled up with wires and tubes. I felt a sense of knowing. Knowing him, even though I'd never held him, I knew him--and I knew this was our family. That he was my son. It is hard to explain this <i>knowing </i>feeling but it is that all is right in the world at that moment. Sweet perfect peace.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR12gqN-XiEpzoM27jKEgaY1ec1W5u0B5Tc6KmKpMLc_nYY4-jelZ5irKo3nM6xgFyq5nXA6To7f_F9fT0iJL8mvkuSA3Va2wY5jtTMiiED8HvHldtD7QvuRbOVSkMWCV4b0zGNMXVfaE/s1600/IMG_0052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR12gqN-XiEpzoM27jKEgaY1ec1W5u0B5Tc6KmKpMLc_nYY4-jelZ5irKo3nM6xgFyq5nXA6To7f_F9fT0iJL8mvkuSA3Va2wY5jtTMiiED8HvHldtD7QvuRbOVSkMWCV4b0zGNMXVfaE/s1600/IMG_0052.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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Since then my love for him has only grown. With that love, the knowledge that he is my heart, outside my body and my life has forever been changed. There is part of a stanza in a poem that says, "Before I was a Mother, I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body." <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkr4L8zVVVbHe86pVFzIsppgdzwVe1nXPOsCpPCPw_RHBczDwPeX0KURMKGi_pv3nhWTB8WVSS4Hf64_UTAPyuI2LZuPTbvx3tx4hq_6juDn5cx4gKQY-PGYuL-H9kHtzfFySaw9DY4Eo/s1600/IMG_0060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkr4L8zVVVbHe86pVFzIsppgdzwVe1nXPOsCpPCPw_RHBczDwPeX0KURMKGi_pv3nhWTB8WVSS4Hf64_UTAPyuI2LZuPTbvx3tx4hq_6juDn5cx4gKQY-PGYuL-H9kHtzfFySaw9DY4Eo/s1600/IMG_0060.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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My heart is Edmund. And thanks to God and the many prayers and wonderful medical staff at Erlanger Hospital, his heart is now beating normally.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisxxaSawx0YTjmcHeDwr6sOAOZW00DGtc6NYmmeOTlCDz3I1CLOtaR2Ccl3irFLeoR4BBFDYvemkh1wRCfJ9eFdTbvdiQJL9BH9iVyB4oSH7Wg_pxuR9uPzACaNaJFEiNy2b0-yzOagp4/s1600/IMG_0061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisxxaSawx0YTjmcHeDwr6sOAOZW00DGtc6NYmmeOTlCDz3I1CLOtaR2Ccl3irFLeoR4BBFDYvemkh1wRCfJ9eFdTbvdiQJL9BH9iVyB4oSH7Wg_pxuR9uPzACaNaJFEiNy2b0-yzOagp4/s1600/IMG_0061.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSKfVMPmLoYPA-hMY6dswDtEhl1kDUim9-83ltHF-Rfc82QF8ybIDbarWKymemffyQXPK3vJQNWN9tI2xg9KZKcb_1ZU7LsP8L7zL5UOjseMLSZ506WxgiDwkU4hMlFInglx_eI8EzIh8/s1600/IMG_0074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSKfVMPmLoYPA-hMY6dswDtEhl1kDUim9-83ltHF-Rfc82QF8ybIDbarWKymemffyQXPK3vJQNWN9tI2xg9KZKcb_1ZU7LsP8L7zL5UOjseMLSZ506WxgiDwkU4hMlFInglx_eI8EzIh8/s1600/IMG_0074.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><br />
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<br />Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-64309537999057217402014-02-28T13:40:00.000-05:002014-02-28T13:40:53.972-05:00Brother<img src="https://fbcdn-photos-g-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/t1/34420_439112901972_7326354_a.jpg?lvh=1" /><br />
I have wanted to write this blog for a long time. And I have drafted it in my head over and over, but I don't end up writing it because I know I will fall short of expressing what I want to express. Even now I know I will probably fall short, but I want to try.<br />
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<img height="400" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-frc1/t31/s720x720/330343_10150510964627056_2125386719_o.jpg" width="299" /><br />
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My brother, Jason is so many things to me. <br />
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He gets me.<br />
There have been many times where I am filled with an emotion I cannot express and try and fail. And when he is around he soaks it in--and then at exactly the right time he talks to me about it. He understand me better than anyone. Better than I know myself sometimes.<br />
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He strengthens me.<br />
I don't remember a lot before I was five but when our lives changed forever with the divorce of our parents Jason was my constant friend. Ecclesiastes says that two are better than one because if one falls down he has no one to help him up. We didn't talk a lot about the journey we were on but I always knew we were together in it. Even if no one else understood--he did. I think I really realized how much I depended on his steady presence when he left for college and our schedules were different. It was shattering.<br />
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He also challenges me. <br />
Now, these are not always fun. In high school he challenged the way I dressed, what I listened to, and watched. I was not an easy person to talk to about my behavior and I would fight back with words. He didn't back down, didn't use harsh words with me, and in the end the Holy Spirit used him to help transform the inner and outer-workings of my life. <br />
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He waits for me. <br />
This summer we got our 50th state together. Montana. When we were planning how to get out there, he wanted to know if I would want to get there at the same time. He knows things like timing are important to me. <br />
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He celebrates with me.<br />
For all the pain or hard times we've been through he is always there in the front to celebrate the big moments and small moments of happiness. <br />
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<a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-e-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/t1/199230_502322536221_9328_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-e-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/t1/199230_502322536221_9328_n.jpg" width="266" /></a><br />
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He calls me beautiful.<br />
I have been so broken and ugly to my brother. He knows my worst sins and has felt my anger and misery. But I cannot remember one word he has spoken to me in anger. <br />
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He inspires me.<br />
I see so much of what I want to be in my brother. He lives out Jesus to others. He dreams the dreams I'm afraid to dream. <br />
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I love my brother Jason and this doesn't show all he is to me, but I hope it gives a glimpse. I have been, am, and will forever be blessed to have him as my brother.Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-42087809310073668112014-02-26T20:55:00.001-05:002014-02-26T20:55:42.222-05:00Yes and No Friends<img src="https://scontent-a-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/t1/1653404_10152261811842990_1930051738_n.jpg" /><br />
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A friend of mine posted this on my facebook wall a while back. <br />
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It reminded me of a picture I'd saved from Ann Voskamp's facebook.<br />
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And I wondered, is it true that friends love your "no" as much as your "yes"? <br />
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Yes. I think it must be. But maybe that helps define what a friend is. <br />
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A friend is someone who drives hours to visit you and ends up helping to make their own guest bed and clean the kitchen.<br />
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A friend is someone who texts you a new "anti-nausea" idea they've heard about, just in case it might help ease the constant sickness.<br />
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A friend is someone who drives hours to for a few short hours of celebration.<br />
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A friend is someone who sends messages of prayer and support even though we haven't seen in each other in person for years.<br />
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A friend is a guest who doesn't even ask, but hand-washes the dishes that won't fit in the dishwasher.<br />
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A friend is someone who sends you a box full of candy that has been helping the nausea, just because.<br />
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A friend is someone who keeps sending you get well cards, even though they were hoping it would only last 3 months. <br />
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A friend is someone I'm not afraid to tell, "I don't feel well enough today..." or "I can't do that." <br />
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Sometimes I think I'll look back on this section of my life with painful memories. And those will be there. It has not been easy.<br />
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But other times I think I'll look back at this time and see all of the beautiful people and their acts of service and love and see how truly blessed I was with real friends.<br />
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Lord, thank you for the gifts You've given me. Give me eyes to see and a heart to focus on them.Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-990265208190546702014-01-21T21:06:00.002-05:002014-01-21T21:06:46.250-05:00Top Books of the Year - 2013This is late by a couple weeks...or a few. But it's better late than never I hear, so here are my top books from the year 2013.<br />
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1. The Desire of Ages, Ellen White<br />
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If I could pick just one book to keep and read, apart from the Bible, for the remainder of my days, I would choose this book without hesitation. The Conflict of Ages series hinges upon this book, which focuses on the life of Jesus - the theme of Ellen White's writings. After reading each chapter I would often tell Beth-Anne, "Wow! That was the best chapter ever." This was repeated for much of the book. Jesus. Enough said. <br />
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2. The Great Controversy, Ellen White<br />
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This is the only way the most epic book series ever could end. Can a more profound book be published outside the Bible? I thought it would be an intense, difficult read but found it rather encouraging and uplifting in a life-changing sort of way. Some books are good and stick around for a while. This book is on a list of its own and will be reflected upon for decades.<br />
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3. Joseph, Terri Fivash<br />
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Who doesn't love the story of Joseph? Well researched. Well written. It added to the Biblical account without being ridiculously unbiblical. I'll probably read it again in the coming years.<br />
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4. We Bought a Zoo, Benjamin Mee<br />
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Don't bother with the movie. That was a waste of time and did not follow the book nearly enough. I know, that's typical. So just skip the movie and read the book instead. It had some "interesting" portions I skipped, but the book overall was hilarious, engaging, and memorable. I recommend the audio version because of the British accent. <br />
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5. Singer on the Sand, Norma Youngberg<br />
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This book was recommend by Caitlin Meharry. She was a dear friend who challenged me by her simple joy in God while she was alive<i>. Any </i>book she recommends is going to be a great read. Our school got a copy of this book and I read it to my students. I was able to share with Caitlin that I had taken her advice to read it before she passed. This story is amazing, and the students loved it, but the sentiment I have for it is could easily vault it higher on my list.<br />
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6. Moose Country, Sam Campbell<br />
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Sam's books have an
amazing ability to sooth the reader and bring nature into the home.
After a stressful or busy day there was nothing so relaxing as reading
Moose Country to Beth-Anne just before sleep.<br />
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7. I am Malala, Malala Yousafzai<br />
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This girl is inspiring! She stood up for education for girls in Pakistan and was shot by the Taliban. Very well written with enough humor sprinkled in to keep the reader entertained, if not inspired.<br />
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8. Loony Coon, Sam Campbell<br />
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More ridiculously funny than Moose Country, Loony Coon is, yes, calming, but more sensational. It's hard to believe all the antics that happened in this book. Well worth the time to read it. I expect to read this to my kids multiple times as the years go by.<br />
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9. Lost in the Barrens, Farley Mowat<br />
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I watched this
movie as a kid and loved it, but there was something addicting about
this book as an adult. It is well worth the time to read if you're a
guy. If you choose to read it, make it during the winter months to
enhance the experience. <br />
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10. Counting on Grace, Elizabeth Winthrop<br />
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Historical fiction is fascinating and this book does not disappoint. I learned a great deal about this time period in New England's history. It is good enough, and clean enough, to suggest to my students. Doffing as a child was no easy task during the Industrial Revolution.<br />
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Honorable Mentions:<br />
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Dewey<br />
Seal of God<br />
Fire by Jason Vanderlaan<br />
Education by Ellen White<br />
Sign of the Beaver by Elizabeth George Speare<br />
Julie of the Wolves<br />
To Kill a MockingbirdUnknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-91250631293119584082014-01-10T20:26:00.003-05:002014-01-10T20:26:50.155-05:00Happy All the Day Long<span style="font-size: small;">I do not have thick skin. I can't shrug off difficult things like others. I take too much to heart. But I have Jesus. And this is what He showed me this week. Maybe it will help you too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">"Sweet hour of prayer, sweet hour of prayer, That calls me from a world of care,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">And bids me, at my Father's throne, Make all my wants and wishes known!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">In seasons of <span style="color: #bf9000;">distress</span> and <span style="color: #990000;">grief</span>, My soul has <span style="color: #6aa84f;">often found relief</span>,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">And oft escaped the tempters snare, By thy return, sweet hour of prayer."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"> -William W. Walford, <i>Sweet Hour of Prayer</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"When children sleep under the scraps stitched into quilts and the clock ticks too loudly through the dark hours and the spiral galaxies spin in space, I lie under the afghan by the fire and read...'The greatest thing is to <span style="color: #b45f06;">give thanks for everything</span>. He who has learned this knows what it means to live.... He has penetrated the whole mystery of life: giving thanks for everything.'"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">-Ann Voskamp, <i>One Thousand Gifts</i>, quoting Albert Schweitzer, <i>Reverence for Life</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"<i></i>If received in faith, the trial that seems so <span style="color: #7f6000;">bitter</span> and hard to bear will prove a <span style="color: #6aa84f;">blessing</span>....</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">God would not have us remain pressed down by dumb sorrow, with sore and breaking hearts. He would have us look up and behold His <span style="color: #8e7cc3;">dear face of love</span>....We may keep the heart stayed upon Him and meditate upon His loving-kindness <span style="color: #bf9000;">all the day</span>. He will lift the soul above the daily sorrow and perplexity, into a realm of peace."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">-Ellen White, <i>Thoughts from the Mount of Blessing</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"You will keep him in <span style="color: #0b5394;">perfect peace</span>,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Whose mind is stayed on You,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Because he trusts in You."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">-Isaiah,<i> Isaiah</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"O soul, are you weary and troubled? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">No light in the darkness you see? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">There's light for a look at the Savior, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And life more abundant and free!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Turn your eyes upon <span style="color: #990000;">Jesus</span>,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Look full in His <span style="color: #674ea7;">wonderful face</span>;</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And the things of earth will grow <span style="color: #a64d79;">strangely dim</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In the light of His glory and grace."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">-Helen H. Lemmel, <i>Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"It is the love of self that <span style="color: #7f6000;">destroys</span> our peace. While self is all alive, we stand ready continually to guard it from mortification and insult; but when we are dead, and our life is hid <span style="color: #0b5394;">with Christ in God</span>, we shall not take neglects or slights to heart. We shall be deaf to reproach and blind to scorn and insult....</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Happiness drawn from earthly sources is as <span style="color: #783f04;">changeable</span> as varying circumstances can make it; but <span style="color: #6aa84f;">the</span> <span style="color: #6aa84f;">peace of Christ</span> is a constant and abiding peace....Christ is the fountain of living water, and <span style="color: #45818e;">happiness drawn from Him can never fail</span>."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">-Ellen White, <i>Thoughts from the Mount of Blessing</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"The Lord is my shepherd;</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">I shall not want</span>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">He makes me to lie down in <span style="color: #6aa84f;">green pastures</span>;</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">He <span style="color: #8e7cc3;">leads</span> me beside the <span style="color: #3d85c6;">still waters</span>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">He <span style="color: #674ea7;">restores</span> my soul;</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">He <span style="color: #8e7cc3;">leads</span> me in the paths of righteousness</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">For His name's sake.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I will fear no evil;</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">For <span style="color: #cc0000;">You are with me</span>;</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Your rod and Your staff, they <span style="color: #45818e;">comfort</span> me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">You</span> prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">You</span> anoint my head with oil;</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">My cup runs over.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Surely <span style="color: #3d85c6;">goodness</span> and <span style="color: #674ea7;">mercy</span> shall follow me</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">All the days of my life;</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And I will dwell in the house of the Lord</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #e69138;">Forever</span>."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">-A Psalm of David, <i>Psalm 23</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i>"But the fruit of the Spirit is <span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>love</b></span>,<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><b> joy</b></span>,<b> <span style="color: #6aa84f;">peace</span></b>..."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">-Paul, <i>Galatians </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you <span style="color: #6aa84f;">rest</span>. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am <span style="color: #674ea7;">gentle</span> and lowly in heart, and you will find <span style="color: #6aa84f;">rest</span> for your souls. For My yoke is<span style="color: #674ea7;"> easy</span> and My burden is <span style="color: #e69138;">light</span>."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">-Jesus, <i>Matthew</i></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-27955792297711309072014-01-07T20:52:00.001-05:002014-01-07T20:52:37.701-05:00Prayers of BlessingsChristmas day we were at my grandparents house in New Jersey where we always gather to spend "Christmas" -- whether it is on December 25th or not. <div>
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This Christmas was special because I had asked my grandfather and step-dad to do a prayer of blessing over our baby boy.</div>
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So after all the gifts were opened and we had enjoyed lunch (and I went back into pajamas to stay comfortable), we all sat in the family room.</div>
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Granddaddy read these sentences from <i>Child Guidance</i> p. 27, "The first child especially should be trained with great care, for he will educate teh rest. Children grow according to the influence of those who surround them." </div>
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My Granddaddy is a joker and said, "It says the first, so that means more!" So this is me laughing about the more part. Let's just make it through the first one!</div>
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Then he prayed a blessing over our baby boy--and Matthew and I.</div>
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After he prayed Pappa shared about the names of God and how one of the names means that He is the Shepherd who leads us, and that we should know that all of the family will be praying for us, and hopes that we will remember that whatever our needs are at the moment that God will provide.</div>
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Then he prayed a blessing over Matthew & I and our baby boy.</div>
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I am richly blessed and so is our baby boy. I love my family.</div>
Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-88671508580334103952014-01-07T19:00:00.000-05:002014-01-07T19:03:37.318-05:00Baby Gender Reveal for the StudentsMatthew and I wanted to share our exciting news of boy or girl with our students in a way that we hoped would be fun for them. After all, they are family to us and they are just as excited about the baby as anyone else I think. <br />
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So we decided on doing silly string. The caps were taken off the spray bottles, a few students chosen, and whatever color came out would reveal to the students the baby's gender. Plus they would get to spray us. <br />
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The day before the students each voted what they thought the baby would be. :)<br />
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A baby boy!<br />
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Here is a video of the fun!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz_F93O_kRZOwVr4FPKA5sxfrG4UQRuPu0PIGkTa4_KI7-cgZO2GADFLS8MNEd_sEoZ3M5qpB46N9jdNj4mnQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Thank you Tima for coming and doing the photography!<br />
Thank you Dawn for doing the video!Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-89763390142457394902013-12-07T19:26:00.000-05:002013-12-07T19:26:44.247-05:00Because you are willing<span class="text 1Pet-5-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are the sounds of pots and silverware being put away. </span><br />
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<span class="text 1Pet-5-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A sliding sound, which I think is the cutting board, and then chopping. Sizzling sound follow with the refrigerator opening and closing.</span><br />
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<span class="text 1Pet-5-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Later </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hear the dishwasher running. Shortly after I am given a delicious meal. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the kitchen is clean. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What an amazing husband. Even just today he has made me breakfast, lunch, snack, fruit, and supper. I haven't helped. I've laid on the couch and felt nauseated and extremely grateful. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are things I did not think of when I got married. I did not think about being sick for months on end and pregnant. I did not imagine I would be so dependent on others. But here I am. </span><br />
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(Hungry and tired...but more tired than hungry.)<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And here is this man I married. Cleaning the house. Cooking meals. Showing me love over and over again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However, there are things I <i>did </i>think of before I got married. I thought of what the character of the man I would marry. Did he love Jesus? Was he a servant leader? At our wedding we washed each other's feet as a symbol of lifetime service of love to each other, following Jesus' example.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Each day he washes my feet symbolically as he serves me and our child. Our son. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One day I was sharing how I felt not as pretty and attractive because of the change in my body and the next day he wrote this:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(I created this frame for us and we wipe off what goes after "Our marriage is" and change it every now and then.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He continues to amaze me. I count him as multiple blessing each day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even at night he serves me. I have been going to bed <i>very</i> early and I don't like to go to bed alone. So I ask him to come with me and he does. He rubs my back and reads to me each night to help me relax to fall asleep and then once I'm asleep he will do homework or whatever else in bed so I can have him near me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the mornings if he can see that it is a rough morning he will read devotions to me. Taking the initiative as the spiritual leader to help me when I'm too nauseated or tired to read myself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today at church Matthew, my wonderful husband, was ordained as an elder. He and I had prayed about him accepting being an elder when he was first asked, and we felt God leading there so he accepted. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today as I watched him go up and be prayed over I could not have been more filled with joy and pride. There was a man that has served me selflessly, day and night, and not complained. </span><br />
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<span class="text 1Pet-5-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="text 1Pet-5-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"To the elders among you, I appeal as a fellow elder<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30467A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></span> and a witness<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30467B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></span> of Christ’s sufferings who also will share in the glory to be revealed:<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30467C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="text 1Pet-5-2" id="en-NIV-30468" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Be shepherds of God’s flock<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30468D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></span> that is under your care, watching over them—not because you must, <i><u>but because you are willing, as God wants you to be;</u></i><span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30468E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></span> not pursuing dishonest gain,<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30468F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)"></span> but eager to serve;</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="text 1Pet-5-3" id="en-NIV-30469" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">not lording it over<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30469G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></span> those entrusted to you, but being examples <span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30469H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)"></span>to the flock.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="text 1Pet-5-4" id="en-NIV-30470" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And when the Chief Shepherd<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30470I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)"></span> appears, you will receive the crown of glory<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-30470J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)"></span> that will never fade away."</span><br />
<span class="text 1Pet-5-4" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="text 1Pet-5-4" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 Peter 5:1-4</span><br />
<span class="text 1Pet-5-4" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="text 1Pet-5-4" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These verses in Peter make me think of Matthew. Not only because he is an ordained elder, but because he has been a shepherd to myself and our son and we are truly under his care--not because he must take care of us--but <i>because he is willing</i>, as God wants him to be.</span><br />
<span class="text 1Pet-5-4" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="text 1Pet-5-4" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know that he will shepherd those God has given him to shepherd with the same care and selflessness that he has shown me. </span><br />
<span class="text 1Pet-5-4" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="text 1Pet-5-4" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am blessed beyond measure to be his wife and I pray that I will be a blessing back to him. </span><br />
<span class="text 1Pet-5-4" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
Thank You God, for my husband, Matthew.Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-1771337680877542642013-11-23T17:39:00.001-05:002013-11-23T17:39:49.077-05:00BubblesWhen I have asked people what the baby moving feels like I get a variety of answers. Some are not as pleasant sounding: gas. Some are beautiful sounding: butterflies. Neither were exactly helpful. <br />
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Last night as Matthew and I finished our home vespers I felt a bubble form to the lower right of my bellybutton and then disappear. I felt something similar a little further to the right a little later. I told Matthew that I thought the baby was moving. So he reached his hand out and I placed it over where I had first felt the bubble. <br />
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We waited in silence. Then I felt it again in the exact same spot as the first time! Same feeling and everything. <br />
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Matthew couldn't feel it but it is so exciting to have felt the first "bubbles" of movement. I have felt "bubbles" twice before this but this was more definite to me since it was twice in the same area. <br />
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Dear Little Baby,<br />
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You are so loved. Stay safe and growing. We long for April to come.<br />
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All our love,<br />
<br />
Papa & Mama<br />
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<br />Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-69223427725708885592013-11-03T08:02:00.001-05:002013-11-03T08:02:13.315-05:00HeartbeatOn Wednesday, October 30 we went to go hear the heartbeat of our little baby. My previous experiences led me to believe that I would have to wait in the waiting room for a while until I was seen. So when I had to leave school before Matthew I was pretty confident that he would still get there in time to hear the heartbeat.<br />
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Also, I had forgotten my cell phone that day, so I had no way to contact him. <br />
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Almost immediately after I signed in they called me in. I went over financial information, etc. and was sent back out to the waiting room. I breathed a sigh of relief that there was still time for Matthew to come. Then they quickly called me back in again. I told the nurse that my husband was on his way and asked if they would please let him back to the room with me. She said if he asked for me they would bring him back. She began her initial assessments, blood pressure and questions and then <i>thankfully</i> there was a knock at the door asking if "Beth-Anne White" was in this room. And then Matthew came in. I was so thankful to see him. <br />
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The doctor came in shortly after that with the probe and squirted gel on my stomach and began to search for the heartbeat. I felt like I should hold my breath. And secretly I wondered if they would find a heartbeat. Besides being sick and gaining weight there is nothing that says I'm carrying a living baby. The doctor said that the baby was moving around a lot and moved the probe again to find it. And suddenly there it was. A whirling water/wind sound. I turned and looked at Matthew and smiled. The doctor asked if it felt real yet. She said we both kind of looked like we were trying to process it. I think we are still trying to process it. I love going to the doctor now because it is when I get to hear, or see, or know more about our baby. <br />
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I could have listened to that heartbeat for a long time.<br />
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The doctor said the heartbeat was 156 bpm. So what we know so far is our baby has long legs, it is active, and is had a 170 bpm at the first ultrasound (but we didn't get to hear it), and 156 bpm at 15 weeks.<br />
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December 2 we go back for our gender revealing ultrasound! Pray that the baby wants to cooperate and let us know what it is. We can't wait!<br />
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This is a clip of someone's ultrasound heartbeat if you want to hear what it sounded like. I don't know how many beats per minute this was: <a href="http://www.hark.com/clips/yrvllvtzsm-baby-heartbeat-14-weeks">http://www.hark.com/clips/yrvllvtzsm-baby-heartbeat-14-weeks</a>Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-1680837128817050092013-10-26T10:10:00.001-04:002013-10-26T10:10:45.809-04:00Doesn't He Have Anything Better to Do?"Don't they have anything better to do? What losers!"<br />
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I often say this after reading about more terrorists attacks and mass shootings. Why aren't these killers doing something productive, or at least doing something fun with their lives? Really...? Flying into a building is your ultimate goal in life? That's lame.<br />
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We were reading Jesus' Sermon on the Mount this morning and He said this, <b><span class="text Matt-7-13"><span class="woj"> </span></span></b><br />
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<b><span class="text Matt-7-13"><span class="woj">"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.</span></span></b><span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj"><b><sup class="versenum"> </sup>But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it."</b></span></span><br />
<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj"><br /></span></span>
<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj">Satan works <i>very </i>hard to keep us from following the narrow road to the small gate that leads to life. This led to the question: Why does Satan work so hard to distract us? Yes, of course he's trying to keep us from God, and he knows God's ways will make us happiest. But...why?</span></span><br />
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<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj"><b>Doesn't he have anything better to do?</b></span></span><br />
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<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj">What profits Satan when he keeps human souls from surrendering to God? Misery loves company, yes, but it must be more than that. </span></span><br />
<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj">Satan works hard to keep us from God because he <i>hates </i>God. What do <b>we</b> do when we <i>hate </i>someone? We sacrifice our own pleasures to ensure that the object of our hatred doesn't get what they want.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj"><br /></span></span>
<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj">Satan puts in extra hours at work because he doesn't want God to get what He wants, what He loves<i>. </i></span></span><br />
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<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj"><b>Us.</b></span></span><br />
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<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj">God loves us greatly. Else Satan wouldn't be trying to lead us astray. Satan does have better things to do (I suppose), but because he knows of God's great passion for us, he wants to keep God from His great passion - you and me.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj"><b> </b></span></span><br />
<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj">When you are discouraged, tempted, or are just having a bad day, recall God's deep desire to be with you. Because you are His largest love.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj"><br /></span></span>
<span class="text Matt-7-14" id="en-NIV-23331"><span class="woj"><br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-44935928042048739792013-10-26T09:11:00.001-04:002013-10-26T09:11:52.945-04:00PeopleIt's amazing how when there is new life to share that you miss the people who are no longer here to share that life. They loved and shaped me. I wish they were here to love and shape my baby, but in a way they will. Through me their legacies will live as I share what they taught and gave me.<br />
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I want Grandpa Vanderlaan to be Great-Grandpa Vanderlaan.<br />
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<img height="300" src="https://scontent-b-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/216280_10150165862442056_5917108_n.jpg" width="400" /><br />
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I want my beautiful Aunt Teresa to hold her great niece or nephew.<br />
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<img height="320" src="https://scontent-b-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/21936_251090272055_2103496_n.jpg" width="312" /><br />
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I want Marissa to giggle and laugh about me having a baby.<br />
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<img height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6igXFdOdzug1Ho-i4-u9ZGwKVBlNPChrv7TOZ3hE3Jh6ETDp5jQ0wzpEk_cYoYtyfE3vNQnfqmjYs7dPoojE6cinpKb5r_O-erCFCPu9YaCodMr28SuT6W1DurmTuP0cqXCfT6gJQn6mm/s400/IMG_2350.JPG" width="400" /><br />
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I want Tai Tai to see her legacy of loving Jesus go to the fourth generation.<br />
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<img height="300" src="https://scontent-b-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/221910_10150165862712056_2643364_n.jpg" width="400" /><br />
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I want Caitlin, in her God filled heart, to share her sweet love and joy for this new baby and us.<br />
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<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimEVpQuVrYxL7eSov6xuzasC7l1Zs0bREp-9qrsWru4-n0KBzMkhvXkfWwPlc2plisAMb7Cc_d99G4u4w2RJihp2MMPocfKknhsp6KRoGAlfQNU-t3deyZt7DuEYpbrO5V46gNNqx53TI/s400/CaitlinMeharry.jpg" /><br />
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And then I am overwhelmed by the love from those around me right now. I have always been pretty self-sufficient, but not so recently. This pregnancy has wiped me off my feet and out of commission. Here is just a <i>glimpse </i>of the blessings I am counting.<br />
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Matthew being a <a href="http://whitemb.blogspot.com/2013/09/dear-little-baby-i-want-to-tell-you.html">selfless servant leader</a>.<br />
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Students being okay if I have to eat all the time and break our school food rules.<br />
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Mama sending me cards about everyday to cheer me up and keep me going.<br />
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Students saying their praise during praise and prayer request time is that I'm having a baby.<br />
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Tima inviting us over for Sabbath lunch (and we had guest too and she fed us all!) and making sure part of her meal didn't have tomatoes in it so I could eat it.<br />
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Students praying that I don't feel nauseated anyone.<br />
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Heather giving me apple butter and ginger tea in a Christmas bag at church when I posted I was loving apple butter.<br />
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<br /></div>
Cheryle and Sandy from the Livingston Church organizing people to bring us food to help us. And in particular David & Jessica have brought us food <i>every</i> Monday for four weeks. And all the others who made and brought food to us. Amazing and so humbling to receive.<br />
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Students asking if I feel okay today. One in particular asks me almost everyday.<br />
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Leslie bringing me ginger-beer to see if it helped with the nausea and lemon ginger tea. </div>
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Daddy and Jason going grocery shopping for us so we didn't have to go out after school and do it.<br />
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A student yesterday noticed that I wasn't feeling very good and said that if I needed any help he would help me. It warmed my heart. <br />
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New friends Kristy & Joel expecting a baby a few weeks before ours. Their empathy and understanding.<br />
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Julie subbing for me the last three Wednesdays so I could have time to rest.<br />
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People being kind or understanding when I can't stay long at an event, or snack on food in church. <br />
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Matthew reading devotions to me because I am too nauseated to read. <br />
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Dawn being so kind and understanding at school when I need to rest in the office or just sit for extra time at my desk.<br />
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A student giving me an arrowhead just because. <br />
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Nicole stepping in as a sub when I couldn't go on the field trip.<br />
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The collective and individual prayers of so many people.<br />
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This week at school was long because of parent-teacher conferences. We got to school extra early and stayed extra late. But what brought tears to my eyes this week was not the extra hours or exhaustion, but all the kindness that just keeps pouring out. God has given us many blessings. I want to count them all and share them with our baby.Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-52982951990110103722013-10-25T15:29:00.002-04:002013-10-25T15:29:43.421-04:00Baby's First Bible VerseAfter waiting 45 minutes I finally went into the ultrasound room. They squirted the gel on my stomach and then the tech put down the probe. I held my breath as I watched the screen. I waited as the tech moved the probe and suddenly there was a black area..and a baby. Tiny but there. And then it was kicking its legs and waving its arms. I never expected to see it move! The tech said, "Your baby has long legs!" Matthew and I laughed at that. Of course it has long legs, it's our baby!<br />
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My father and brother Jason were able to be there and they got to see the baby to. It was amazing to share that experience with them. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ZqhwqUr3O2-yPaJGtL8enMOQTubTK1mpSqrTZpeHkb-nx0XjompE4_1SNupMfk3QiDBacHDgz-wBGMmoE0mvNcJonVgbIQ_PrYgETE6UfRiYWkSX0gYhn_X2nR286Lm487OmA34Anvw/s1600/IMG_5191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ZqhwqUr3O2-yPaJGtL8enMOQTubTK1mpSqrTZpeHkb-nx0XjompE4_1SNupMfk3QiDBacHDgz-wBGMmoE0mvNcJonVgbIQ_PrYgETE6UfRiYWkSX0gYhn_X2nR286Lm487OmA34Anvw/s320/IMG_5191.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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It was a hard thing to imagine that the baby was moving all around and I could't see it. Or feel it. The baby is ours and is real. We could see his or her little face. The nose, eyes, and mouth. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDxzIauJDkzp3j6d7O0_NYv6fLX8_DGxkLgdK5bBSiWo1v-U4BVl4J8z8eEO9BxQuKup1FPT9a1-xJ9yrGLqswQT-IuV5BYw7v2487getkmpevQRoRcwKlBP-NvI-9jSALzm5TGkwFDk/s1600/IMG_5192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDxzIauJDkzp3j6d7O0_NYv6fLX8_DGxkLgdK5bBSiWo1v-U4BVl4J8z8eEO9BxQuKup1FPT9a1-xJ9yrGLqswQT-IuV5BYw7v2487getkmpevQRoRcwKlBP-NvI-9jSALzm5TGkwFDk/s320/IMG_5192.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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That day they also took blood work. A routine thing. That was a Monday and on Friday they called back to tell me that not all was normal. My thyroid level came back low and . I tried not to worry but I couldn't help it. And of course then I googled it on the internet, which you should never do, and made myself worry a little more.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2i3ew7W_uqCHFFRPFC6KYIgKOVCVPonY9yt1LogKFhGhnSjl48A1i98fz5p8k45HDzrJ7vFyccEMjc3uCKYntso2DSNVwnpAzMshaugqZb5R-L-WZTsQCXGZar3vdY38vi_Wq9qtIPHw/s1600/IMG_5193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2i3ew7W_uqCHFFRPFC6KYIgKOVCVPonY9yt1LogKFhGhnSjl48A1i98fz5p8k45HDzrJ7vFyccEMjc3uCKYntso2DSNVwnpAzMshaugqZb5R-L-WZTsQCXGZar3vdY38vi_Wq9qtIPHw/s320/IMG_5193.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
Sunday night I was tired but wanted to read some Psalms. So in bed I opened to where I had a bookmark in Psalms. I would read a verse, close my eyes and pray about it, and move on. The last verses I read before we turned out the lights were Psalm 147:12-13, "Extol the Lord, O Jerusalem; praise your God, O Zion, for He strengthens the bars of your gates and blesses your people within you."<br />
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And I thought, "Blesses the people within me....He will bless the baby within me." And so on October 5, I had the first verse from God directly about my baby. He would bless this baby within me, however that turned out, He would bless it. <br />
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Monday I went back for more blood work and then I waited. Over the next days I repeated that verse to myself, holding on to God's promise to bless this baby no matter what. On Wednesday the office called me back to tell me that even though my thyroid levels were low, it was safe for pregnancy. <br />
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I cried. And I wanted to praise God. So this is my praise.<br />
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I did not know what it would mean that He would bless this child within me, and I still don't fully know. But what I know is that I have the first verse God has given me about our child and I hold onto the promise it contains.<br />
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Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-21863326843544319322013-09-26T20:38:00.002-04:002013-09-26T20:38:20.956-04:00Dear Little Baby, I want to tell you about your DaddyTonight Matthew left for board meeting and I wanted to do something around the house to thank him for all he has done since I've been severely nauseated (almost five weeks now). But of course I feel to sick to be of use almost anywhere in the house. So I pulled out our baby journal and wrote this to our baby. And I wanted to share it, because I have a selfless husband who is tirelessly working for me, for the school, and for the church -- and not complaining one bit. I am blessed beyond words.<br />
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___<br />
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Hello little baby,<br />
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You are about 10 weeks old now. One inch long. I hope you are enjoying growing. I have been very nauseated. I tell you this because I want to tell you about the amazing Daddy that God has given you--and the amazing husband I have. <br />
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Ever since I have been nauseated your Daddy has done everything. He cooks, cleans, pack lunches, always asks if he can do anything to help me feel better, takes care of the dogs, and cat. And that is all on <u>top</u> of what he always has done to help me. He mows our neighbors yard, take care of the cars, the yard, and helps around the house as he always has. <u>AND</u> if that weren't enough he helps me at school. He takes the students for recess, sorts my desk, handles stressful situations, and still does all of his <u>own</u> teacher <u>and</u> principal duties. Your Daddy is selfless and serving. He is also taking an online class toward his master's degree, is an elder at church, and takes time to rub my back at night when I know <u>he</u> must be exhausted. And I have never heard him complain or ask me to do more. He is a servant-lover after Jesus' heart. I am eternally blessed to be his wife and beyond words thankful that he is your Daddy.<br />
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If you are a boy, I want you to be just like your Daddy. If you are a girl I pray you will marry someone just like your Daddy.<br />
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We are incredibly blessed.<br />
<br />
All my love,<br />
MamaBeth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5476604626994958075.post-18726238628745320172013-09-09T15:45:00.000-04:002013-09-09T15:45:00.363-04:00Bump Ahead<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Friday, August 9 at about 6:00 am I blinked my eyes as I
watched the second pink line appear. It
was as if my heart raced and stopped beating all at the same time. <i>A baby</i>. <i>Our
baby</i>. There was a tiny life
beginning inside of me. Even now as I
try to comprehend it I feel amazed and speechless.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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We are thrilled beyond words and so glad that God has led us
on this journey. Last summer God began
speaking to our hearts about expanding our family and He has blessed us to
begin this way. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It was the same day we paid off our house so I told Matthew
that I wanted to take a picture with him, and instead had it on video so I
could record his reaction. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx2YIWuZGAVYbZsaBKFAuT0-tMFbaUdrFXW7L5gArZBrsmUCRyUnB1br4teYwIEfGH9IkUnrLyjKq-S6Eg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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We can’t wait to meet our child at the end of April. We thank God for the miracle that the baby
already is to us. We ask for your prayers as we begin this new journey in our
life!<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt His Name together.”
Psalm 34:3<o:p></o:p></div>
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“For Thou, O LORD, hast made me glad by what
Thou hast done, I will sing for joy at the works of Thy hands.” Psalm 92:4<o:p></o:p></div>
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"Before I formed you in the womb I knew
you, and before you were born I consecrated you…” Jeremiah 1:5 <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Beth-Annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07144531499335750308noreply@blogger.com2