tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335298017383273612024-03-13T13:25:22.512-07:00LATHAM LIVINGFinding blessing in chaos, joy in trial, and the LOVELY in the everyday.Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.comBlogger288125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-76813274619131617022020-10-13T13:26:00.001-07:002020-10-13T13:27:53.740-07:00Mountain Movers<p> The following is a little exhortation I gave at a TRIPLE baby shower I just hosted for three mamas of three beautiful little boys just born to us at Providence. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW0ZQXLENRF61x_n80k_m6ILSid-fWJwAnNk5luO-FxPzB8gY_I3OKRhAbQRheAKoJmNn1ScOQn7CBseOVn8BAWSCz65ZmXBUAp7KUwjsbg8EQotZA62EQ6YqiBNtMiVvXgly_wL_e0QU/s2048/IMG_6136.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1523" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW0ZQXLENRF61x_n80k_m6ILSid-fWJwAnNk5luO-FxPzB8gY_I3OKRhAbQRheAKoJmNn1ScOQn7CBseOVn8BAWSCz65ZmXBUAp7KUwjsbg8EQotZA62EQ6YqiBNtMiVvXgly_wL_e0QU/s320/IMG_6136.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />
<p style="font-family: Optima; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">So I just wanted to say a few words about the important moment we are in right now. There’s an old wives tale that says that more boys than girls will be born when a nation is on the verge of war. It seems that this is the case right now, at least in our little church family. And, being a persistent optimist, as much as I don’t want to notice how close our nation is to a massive clash of ideologies that will result in a war, it does feel eminent. But even if the Lord preserves us from a physical battle, there is no way to hide from the truth that we are in a massive spiritual and cultural battle right now, and it is more important now than ever to raise up men who will take the charge and lead their families in paths of fruitful and faithful righteousness. </p><p></p>
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<p style="font-family: Optima; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Our enemies are rising up on all sides, like dark, towering mountains, and it can seem hopeless. But we know that He will not leave us in a dark valley, but will meet us and walk with us. </p>
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<p style="font-family: Optima; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">More than that, in Matthew 17 Jesus tells his disciples, “Truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.”</p>
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<p style="font-family: Optima; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">When we look around us at the crumbling culture, it can sometimes feel like we can’t do anything, especially when we’re stuck in our homes with our little people, busy with the mundane jobs of everyday life. But we have to keep this in perspective. Our faith is doing big things as we raise these children. Cassie, Kristi, and Erika, you have been given little men who will grow into mountain movers. This means that your faith as you bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, WILL MOVE MOUNTAINS.</p><p style="font-family: Optima; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqsLwZhDVFpPIWtV6EfGAeTqPkD2OAw20SX6fd71IdI9OkulkM18Uh295ZMMD8muHHuzzwBpTSJgDrM8doh3fhD1h7fuss6wbk32I5rkh6kD9pnrA_9BtbOXaqt_pAcwgM6OebTeDUJU/s2048/IMG_6131.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqsLwZhDVFpPIWtV6EfGAeTqPkD2OAw20SX6fd71IdI9OkulkM18Uh295ZMMD8muHHuzzwBpTSJgDrM8doh3fhD1h7fuss6wbk32I5rkh6kD9pnrA_9BtbOXaqt_pAcwgM6OebTeDUJU/s320/IMG_6131.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
<p style="font-family: Optima; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">So I want to issue this charge to you as you go out and bring up these sons of the faith: Do not lose heart! Persevere, because this work you are doing with these tiny babies is momentous. These boys are little mustard seeds right now, but they will move mountains! Galatians 6:9, which I’m sure you all know, reminds you to not grow weary of doing good, for in due season you will reap, if you do not give up. So do not give up! Move mountains with those dirty diapers, those messy floors, those stained shirts and sticky fingers. Move mountains with those sinful little hearts that need discipline and training and guidance and forgiveness. Move mountains by giving them more time and attention and energy than you feel capable of giving. God has given you this work to do, and so we can trust that He will equip you to do it! And may the Lord bless you in that good work!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyg4XFqdF1oXMeioTAlnHou6REq-mhm5-Qr0gXKvI1Uq9waTB4EZ_gtIA44u7VQUrXnY6GSjoZJr-L86C884DRzLkyxP8p2cH4qLbJzVgCdTsw4db4LIFSCePQTHwl6ckTDqyfCZhZYmA/s2048/IMG_6140.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyg4XFqdF1oXMeioTAlnHou6REq-mhm5-Qr0gXKvI1Uq9waTB4EZ_gtIA44u7VQUrXnY6GSjoZJr-L86C884DRzLkyxP8p2cH4qLbJzVgCdTsw4db4LIFSCePQTHwl6ckTDqyfCZhZYmA/s320/IMG_6140.jpeg" /></a></div><p></p>
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<p style="font-family: Optima; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">And then we sang The Son of God Goes forth to War, and it was glorious.</p><p style="font-family: Optima; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: Optima; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">(Gorgeous cakes by the incredible Megan Okimoto!)</p>Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-80576171699267651532017-12-11T10:15:00.004-08:002017-12-11T10:31:42.353-08:00Gritty Glory<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was asked to offer some words of encouragement for a first time mom's baby shower at our church a couple months ago. I have finally edited it from my rough speaking notes to an only semi-polished draft, and am posting it here because I have lost track of which of my friends have asked for a copy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Also, averaging one post every other year seems like a doable pace for me...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Blessings!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">~Tam</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The most glorious tasks do not look glorious. They do not feel super spiritual. It’s a confusing phenomenon, really. <i>Glory</i> is usually accomplished through grit.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We see this in our Bible. The places where God reveals His glory most are among some of the worst conditions. Take the incarnation of Jesus. A scandalous marriage, a dingy stable, and rugged shepherds. Or his miracles: feeding hot, tired, hungry people in a field. Healing the unclean lepers. Reclining with sinners and tax collectors. Or go back to the Old Testament and look at the flood. (Think about the devastation and death and mud that paved the way to a rich promise and a vibrant rainbow!) Think of the anguish of the Hebrews working as slaves that led to the glorious exodus as God miraculously delivered his people and renewed his covenant with them. Even his method of deliverance, with the plagues of Egypt, revealed his glory through the most horrifying (and just gross) circumstances. Bugs and boils and so much loss.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">God isn't scared of grit and grime. He uses it, and shocks everyone with how much glory he can bring from the ashes. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The greatest moment of glory, the climax of God’s masterful storytelling, comes when his son is murdered, and buried in the dirt. It didn’t make any sense to the disciples. It was not as it should be. Jesus was the king! The Christ! The long awaited, anointed Son of God! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But through the dirt, God gave His Son more glory than our finite minds could have ever imagined. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">What am I getting at? Glory comes through yucky things.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As a mother, you are being given a glorious task. Changing culture, one little life at a time, is a high calling (and hard work). I remember the anticipation I had before Asher was born about how excited I was to get to work on the kingdom of God through what our pastor fondly refers to as the “original church growth program.” I knew it would be hard work and that there would be spit up and dirty diapers and lots of discipline, and that was all true.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But I didn’t realize how muddy it would get. Not literally— although there is that too—but I’m talking mirky. Things get confusing. Our bodies get tired. Our selfishness is exposed, and laundry becomes a serious spiritual issue I never, ever, ever anticipated! I love Rachel Jankovic’s analogy of running on a treadmill. She said before she had kids that she thought parenting would be like running on a treadmill. She knew it would be hard, but she had her running shoes. She was ready. But what she didn’t expect was being pelted by potatoes while someone kept increasing the speed and incline on the machine!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Constantly dodging potatoes has a way of throwing you off your balance. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Motherhood is intense. You’ve had the blessing of being old enough to witness your mom raising little ones, but even still, it will be different from what you’ve imagined. Wildly different. And you will find yourself genuinely wondering how it is possible for even a tiny spark of glory to come from finally tackling that pile of hand washing that’s been cluttering the sink, despite the fact that you know it’s true. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The grit of motherhood can weigh you down, piling all kinds of false accusations on you. You will wonder if you’re doing it right. You’ll often times fight feelings of failure. You’ll see your sins presenting themselves in the lives of your children and be tempted to despair. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But that is not good, because it is not from the Holy Spirit. And guilt is a horrible motivator.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When things feel heavy, and messy, and you’re overwhelmed with the load of seemingly insignificant work on your shoulders, you have to remember what God does with mud.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Motherhood is a blessed calling to gritty glorification. We mothers have been given a unique position in our culture. We have been given the most tedious, minuscule little tasks as we tend to and care for the children in our homes. Snotty noses, temper tantrums, sticky peanut butter and wet beds. What a mess! But what a joy to know what comes from messes like these.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is how God works. He takes the ugly and makes it beautiful beyond reckoning. When things feel murky, press on. Look with the eyes of faith to see the glory ahead. And work with joy, knowing that God is the one who gathers the harvest and turns the grit into gold.</span></span></div>
Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-67578852038709403512016-01-04T12:41:00.000-08:002016-01-04T18:25:55.228-08:00A Tale of Two StarsEvery night (and before most naps), my children request a bedtime story. I push my imagination into the corners of my mind where it used to flow naturally but now needs to stretch and wiggle a bit to fit. I come up with all sorts of wild tales about ents, astronauts, fairies, knights, ninjas, and talking animals. Every night it's different. Sometimes I have a plan but most often I begin my stories before I have a truly clear idea of where they are going. They're always entertaining for my children, and sometimes entertaining for me, as I inevitably laugh at how in the world I got to this place and how am I ever going to end this thing!<br />
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One night this week it was an Epiphany story, and as the last day of Christmas approaches this week and we turn our eyes to the light of Christ, I thought I'd share it with you.<br />
Enjoy, and happy Epiphany!<br />
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A TALE OF TWO STARS</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two Stars, TL 1/3/16</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Once upon a time, before there was time, there was darkness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">God did not want the darkness, and so he spoke, and light appeared.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It made him glad, but he wanted to make the light special. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 18px; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To give it form. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 18px; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So a few days later, he shaped the light into suns, moons, and most beautifully, stars. They sprinkled the darkness with glittering diamonds, and God was very pleased. The stars were one of God's special creatures, and they worked for Him gladly.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 18px; line-height: normal; min-height: 28px; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, most of them did.</span></div>
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<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 18px; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">One day, one of the most beautiful of all the stars had a thought. It was an evil and wicked thought. He decided that because God had made him the loveliest of stars, that he should get to reign above all the other stars. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 18px; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">That he should get to be like God. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">That perhaps he should <i>be</i> God. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was a selfish and prideful thought, but he let it fester and grow in his heart, and as all sinful thoughts do, it cast a dark shadow on that beautiful star of light. The shadow grew, and before long, he decided that he did not like to be a star of light. He did not like the light at all. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">He fell from the sky and God's goodness, and landed in God's world.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">He had a plan. A wicked plan. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A plan to defeat God and become God. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Because he was made of light, he could bend that light and appear in any form he chose, and so he chose the form of a beautiful and majestic dragon. He walked the earth in search of God's greatest joy, and found her in a garden. He convinced that joy of God to reject her glory and follow him. He convinced her that it is greater to become like God than to have fellowship with Him. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And she ate God's judgement. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The dragon-star watched with glee as her husband followed her, and he taunted God with his victory.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">That star brought a curse, and the darkness filled the earth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But God had a plan. A glorious plan. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 18px; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A plan to defeat the darkness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Because he was God, he did not need to bend light to appear in a different form. All he had to do was speak, and God became a baby growing in a mother's womb. He knew that to save his world from the darkness, he would have to send light to it. He knew that in the world He created one had to become small to become great. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">To tell the world of his plan, he chose a star. A wondrous star. This star with royal beauty bright was placed high in the heavens, and God caused the star to shine so fiercely that all men saw it, even those who lived afar off in distant countries. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It pointed to the little town where the little God-baby came. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And people came to see this plan of God's. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">That star watched as the God-baby grew into a God-man and died, </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">charging straight at the shadows to slay them. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">He watched as the God-man filled his tomb with so much light that the heavy stone could not contain it, and rolled away to let it out. </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">And now that star rejoices with God as t</span></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: inherit;">hey laugh together, watching the light slowly chase the shadows from every corner of the earth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">That star's joy was made full in God's joy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And that star's glory still shines bright today.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu0hoOMXxGXSXY1pvlTABRcS_KyXqqrdHTknbXxYRssqaFq5qViLc0S6zAp8TWn0e8t860GrbOOuhNsQtAh0POE5TOzdHdtytPbJnJW-mYgCzpsPzlrWp8d1HSuKe9XSBbCWUXbr7zIv4/s1600/IMG_3659.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu0hoOMXxGXSXY1pvlTABRcS_KyXqqrdHTknbXxYRssqaFq5qViLc0S6zAp8TWn0e8t860GrbOOuhNsQtAh0POE5TOzdHdtytPbJnJW-mYgCzpsPzlrWp8d1HSuKe9XSBbCWUXbr7zIv4/s640/IMG_3659.jpg" width="358" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TL, 2/4/16</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">How you are fallen from heaven</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> O Day Star, son of Dawn!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">You said in your heart,</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">‘I will ascend to heaven;</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">above the stars of God </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I will set my throne on high;</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I will make myself like the Most High.’</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But you are brought down to Sheol,</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">to the far reaches of the pit.</span></div>
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<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">[Excerpts from Isaiah 14]</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">* * * * *</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And behold, the star that they had seen when it rose went before them until it came to rest over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">[Matt 2:9-10]</span></div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-89440648866633295772015-11-26T08:15:00.002-08:002015-11-26T08:15:57.025-08:00Thankful Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: inherit;">Thanksgiving.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The most bittersweet of holidays for this mama. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanksgiving is absolutely dripping with some of the hardest, and most precious, memories of my life.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh80uAJf-Y6RVDHYgX3A3tLoF9UblhekPkKyxDyFkNAHYdxYTLCGz-kMzIuadD_F8rLn_z_brdQl2ad2aKrr4gUnouU3d7k51cLGCbj6GmLXyMha46Ag2mAxxhJG6CH0nqGs-gnp3G0kUY/s1600/IMG_2815.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh80uAJf-Y6RVDHYgX3A3tLoF9UblhekPkKyxDyFkNAHYdxYTLCGz-kMzIuadD_F8rLn_z_brdQl2ad2aKrr4gUnouU3d7k51cLGCbj6GmLXyMha46Ag2mAxxhJG6CH0nqGs-gnp3G0kUY/s400/IMG_2815.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The loss and burial of a very dear grandmother, then a celebration of thanks the following day, with a room bursting at the seams with all of her descendants.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then five years later, the pain and loss of our third baby, an empty womb that should have been two months full, mingled with the joy of a table encompassed with family, among them a niece my baby’s same age, growing in her mother's womb, who I can now hold, and watch, and <i>remember</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am not kidding when I say they are sweet memories. They are some of the sweetest of my life, these moments of loss, tied permanently to this day of giving thanks. And I am thankful.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Are you suffering this Thanksgiving? Give thanks. Two of the hardest days of my life were realized on this holiday, and yet I can look back with a smile because they were drenched in thanksgiving. I am so thankful to have had these hard providences fall on a time when the practice of recognizing blessing is custom. Instead of dwelling on <i>why</i>, my mind was gently guided toward singing praises for what I know: God is faithful.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">He is so faithful, I knew that one day I would look back and understand. The big picture is hard to see when you’re standing in the corner of the canvas where God is brushing on the shadow strokes. But when He is finished, the masterpiece is revealed, and we can see His glorious handwork. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1pGriOeBNAjl__Jyhpke6YHMrIk4SkzUSaaPqCtiKTV_6o8cEm-VRriGl-jVCUMIXSdJKKFb08WjWbkkc-PG9xjCINTSVKvJ_vLDw5S6D4kqqvQvjyWy9iM2dZaVo6Lx0hjp5_HTGRF8/s1600/11219594_10208433259375579_5869056477848271256_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1pGriOeBNAjl__Jyhpke6YHMrIk4SkzUSaaPqCtiKTV_6o8cEm-VRriGl-jVCUMIXSdJKKFb08WjWbkkc-PG9xjCINTSVKvJ_vLDw5S6D4kqqvQvjyWy9iM2dZaVo6Lx0hjp5_HTGRF8/s400/11219594_10208433259375579_5869056477848271256_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I said goodbye to my Grandma Lois, and buried her the day before Thanksgiving. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I said goodbye to my third child and cried as my body ached on Thanksgiving. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A couple months later, my body held new life within, my Grandmother’s namesake. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then today, this Thanksgiving morning, my little Lois learned to say a new word. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Bye bye.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">God’s story telling gives me chills sometimes. He is a master, an artist, an author, more talented than any of His created can comprehend. I can trust Him to tell a good story, and I know I will enjoy it more if I simply remember to give thanks in the shadows.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Eucharisteo. Soli Deo Gloria!</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8gSU9O-kBGMavD04cnvQyQ4jCfsUVPV629XWTMPtxRur1VE_1YDKnEquCgn2cqq2KXadEokN3Elk_qk01I0Z2-NqspaqFAKljE5d1RiBs2EXU68QItGmOnrpHaTVXf8UAuZyBPFw_dRQ/s1600/IMG_3415.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8gSU9O-kBGMavD04cnvQyQ4jCfsUVPV629XWTMPtxRur1VE_1YDKnEquCgn2cqq2KXadEokN3Elk_qk01I0Z2-NqspaqFAKljE5d1RiBs2EXU68QItGmOnrpHaTVXf8UAuZyBPFw_dRQ/s400/IMG_3415.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-86925540866896987662015-09-07T18:41:00.000-07:002015-09-07T18:41:02.850-07:00A Brother Back Scratch<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">"Can you scratch my back? A little harder. Like, use your fingernails. Ahhh..."</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLQi7CItGnvBE0_wGqcc_l3LXrAhrUtMv-WbrV7hOkbNq-XHtwZ8K2vrYKw_kGTjcYVRZdLZ5mo3jdmtaQqAPw4m1KPGPqAD2Ao5toK5qpHNWBRpd3eo-M1Qw2Q5Y9Ge0f1q87yHUPpw/s1600/11987186_10207978249600619_2414125066687604307_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLQi7CItGnvBE0_wGqcc_l3LXrAhrUtMv-WbrV7hOkbNq-XHtwZ8K2vrYKw_kGTjcYVRZdLZ5mo3jdmtaQqAPw4m1KPGPqAD2Ao5toK5qpHNWBRpd3eo-M1Qw2Q5Y9Ge0f1q87yHUPpw/s320/11987186_10207978249600619_2414125066687604307_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">XO</span></div>
Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-9103348134449696472015-08-14T05:23:00.000-07:002015-08-14T05:23:07.740-07:00Happy 8 Years!<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">The alarm was set to 6 AM, the promise of a quiet cup of coffee shared with my love of now eight years penciled in before the work day began. Then half an hour before, my bed shook with the presence of two delighted little boys clamoring to tell me they beat the sun awake. What, why? Eyes glued shut, I could hear Hubby in the shower and early morning coffee date plans shattering. It’s ok, these are the blessings of a wonderful marriage climbing on my stiff and sore body. Rejo</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">ice. Happy Anniversary, fruit of the womb. I tucked them in my bed, “rest,” and stumbled into the kitchen to brew a larger than normal pot of coffee when a sad little cry drifted through the baby monitor. Still rubbing sleep from my eyes, I climbed the stairs as coffee dripped through a paper filter to find a baby awake a full two hours earlier than expected. She needed a complete outfit change and the comfort of mother’s milk, which I gave her, accompanied by the suppressed giddy laughter of boys who were undoubtedly making a pile of pillows and blankets on my bed. More fruit, reminders to my weary soul so desperately in need of reminding at that hour. Hubby joined me on the couch with a cup of coffee and we sat in the darkness, silently laughing at how children can both mess things up and make them better, all at the same time. Baby’s belly was full and she wanted to play, so on the floor she went, and to the coffee I walked, the brightness of the kitchen light making me squint.</span></div>
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There, on the counter, this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYEmPDV_V9Tc4vX1HaEMAcF7sxPgCHVO1Cu1rzir60jOUNys73YspCpvSxf6HVOf2SiOBV2rnhwtp5uunfX2xkKAmC8izilu-m8Pl6Go-1Bbw1eZbR_KEoAPl62wps23dc60sBSq0Y-d0/s1600/11870781_10207823218644942_5905730944491732956_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYEmPDV_V9Tc4vX1HaEMAcF7sxPgCHVO1Cu1rzir60jOUNys73YspCpvSxf6HVOf2SiOBV2rnhwtp5uunfX2xkKAmC8izilu-m8Pl6Go-1Bbw1eZbR_KEoAPl62wps23dc60sBSq0Y-d0/s400/11870781_10207823218644942_5905730944491732956_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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*sigh*</div>
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It is such a happy life I live.</div>
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Boys dared to emerge from the bedroom, sunlight starting to brighten the house, baby squawking on the floor for a book she is not allowed to chew on, and a warm smile from a man who loves me well.</div>
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A Happy Anniversary, indeed.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF7ym0geQoPLv_3rIckhkLJij22gKqvHqdaV_UTn_L5PO0BwMuTxMSoZlc9AP3pl4IP21bAW3VMOL2_O0T1WNVhB1VWJPQDGQM8iWFRqut639R9CEmvyqvUD2odMhKqKnHeYjaP1dMNsU/s1600/IMG_1865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF7ym0geQoPLv_3rIckhkLJij22gKqvHqdaV_UTn_L5PO0BwMuTxMSoZlc9AP3pl4IP21bAW3VMOL2_O0T1WNVhB1VWJPQDGQM8iWFRqut639R9CEmvyqvUD2odMhKqKnHeYjaP1dMNsU/s400/IMG_1865.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Date Night at Benjamin's</td></tr>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">XO</span></div>
Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-11494113376305450442015-08-11T10:02:00.000-07:002015-08-11T10:17:54.549-07:00First Day of School!!<div style="text-align: center;">
Last week we started Kindergarten!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4a3KRtJQX1JVOiz88qT21DLJtT3titRmk69NF8R9HNW9XM4uzg3Ai7TmdXdY9OCwNPsl15mjciZXYfuWxXMzIyd98fcsOwer8XP9C_APpysVtm8pVfi5B0Tx7CrvYlaKU1ZmqIM50bs/s1600/IMG_1850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4a3KRtJQX1JVOiz88qT21DLJtT3titRmk69NF8R9HNW9XM4uzg3Ai7TmdXdY9OCwNPsl15mjciZXYfuWxXMzIyd98fcsOwer8XP9C_APpysVtm8pVfi5B0Tx7CrvYlaKU1ZmqIM50bs/s320/IMG_1850.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I am schooling both of the boys at the same time.</div>
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Asher just turned six:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGKHC4ICjadGYERaEPmomkG9nJv7zvKQTul7gtWsemcPGvaOvU8PD5jygjoLY0m_dtd13JWSjQ84rGweNeDMoSHZTIgiEmwSZZ5zCcEabtl0Uz8R88JkcYIWtD2KGo1iXMhmSqmYwoMiM/s1600/IMG_1851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGKHC4ICjadGYERaEPmomkG9nJv7zvKQTul7gtWsemcPGvaOvU8PD5jygjoLY0m_dtd13JWSjQ84rGweNeDMoSHZTIgiEmwSZZ5zCcEabtl0Uz8R88JkcYIWtD2KGo1iXMhmSqmYwoMiM/s320/IMG_1851.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And Gray turned four in April:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgj9dw6_8tLlyRkLFiYiSgG7B8DhMHrOBJzfT0lnFekKUDtZnVmx1-qEC2pbwfYla22CK-u3OtseyqGqiSnfg5psOwWphboB6Gp2bdaSRSNjIU0YvuaZPQhb_7gSl4Ch9ohl3MZc-TUzY/s1600/IMG_1852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgj9dw6_8tLlyRkLFiYiSgG7B8DhMHrOBJzfT0lnFekKUDtZnVmx1-qEC2pbwfYla22CK-u3OtseyqGqiSnfg5psOwWphboB6Gp2bdaSRSNjIU0YvuaZPQhb_7gSl4Ch9ohl3MZc-TUzY/s320/IMG_1852.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We are having so much fun.</div>
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Hello, homeschool world! We are happy to be here!</div>
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If you're curious, here is our homeschool schedule:</div>
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Pray</div>
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Song</div>
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<i>[Psalm 1 with hand motions]</i></div>
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Memory</div>
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<i>[Apostles Creed]</i></div>
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Reading</div>
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<i>Phonics Museum (Veritas Press)</i></div>
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Math </div>
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<i>(Right Start)</i></div>
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For history I will be reading historical fiction and non fiction picture books through the year. </div>
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For Bible, we are reading The Child's Story Bible by Catherine F. Vos, as well as listening to the ESV audio Bible.</div>
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We will be continuing at Providence Friday School Co-op, which will cover topics like art, science, music, catechism, and sports. </div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-66369286935570399922015-07-28T09:02:00.001-07:002015-07-28T09:04:08.836-07:00Sweet Baby Shower<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A friend and I threw an ice cream baby shower for a sweet baby girl this week.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFI5cp7sS5cumAmFSXW5f9nyjhOgLjMhUqaierM6-lAELhOdD5_nDEtT7ySphcdZvbeV5il_bDGszGDqg-BPUeKzihPl36mvDp_-MoYcoD5vfSr_TxlbLXqhsqnwEKTvFL-AlhEaNcud4/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFI5cp7sS5cumAmFSXW5f9nyjhOgLjMhUqaierM6-lAELhOdD5_nDEtT7ySphcdZvbeV5il_bDGszGDqg-BPUeKzihPl36mvDp_-MoYcoD5vfSr_TxlbLXqhsqnwEKTvFL-AlhEaNcud4/s400/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2lt-Q1oeDw5Pmr68XPaNoHDszFY3buaoBpsamY_iV6cuIPU2u4KpXyInaStV7w5fmdN_No7TkdugV80ShAR3hL9ZIw_LC3wEYkHEBsILsPdhuJShLVCz1jzMAiOoY5BCR7sldzCZT6PM/s1600/Shiloh+Invite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2lt-Q1oeDw5Pmr68XPaNoHDszFY3buaoBpsamY_iV6cuIPU2u4KpXyInaStV7w5fmdN_No7TkdugV80ShAR3hL9ZIw_LC3wEYkHEBsILsPdhuJShLVCz1jzMAiOoY5BCR7sldzCZT6PM/s400/Shiloh+Invite.jpg" width="260" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHSmcD8G7sfGXh1pUj4fEwaj4e6awO23dXQ4i_Wh8pc_aCov-7lmXLi3sMVgwPw4myiFd-4dWg7lHEpPfjlrGZHCxd-cciHwPzX7UBRbRd3dCmZuzwaudeaCnQhx-HGPrnc8U-bCtKQg/s1600/FullSizeRender-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHSmcD8G7sfGXh1pUj4fEwaj4e6awO23dXQ4i_Wh8pc_aCov-7lmXLi3sMVgwPw4myiFd-4dWg7lHEpPfjlrGZHCxd-cciHwPzX7UBRbRd3dCmZuzwaudeaCnQhx-HGPrnc8U-bCtKQg/s400/FullSizeRender-8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyziFcx__qjVskMYqlxsz2iwsnhHi7r7DNAT7NK-fdVtRtPw4KPUV8UVC7-QuyF52tMA4aMDbTwWpOrw1IyN6uautNhcNYRCGyXf-LvcaVc_AsKK3M2hfiWQu-_tZxsHLLYq0ihUtbALA/s1600/FullSizeRender-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyziFcx__qjVskMYqlxsz2iwsnhHi7r7DNAT7NK-fdVtRtPw4KPUV8UVC7-QuyF52tMA4aMDbTwWpOrw1IyN6uautNhcNYRCGyXf-LvcaVc_AsKK3M2hfiWQu-_tZxsHLLYq0ihUtbALA/s400/FullSizeRender-7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Mama and Baby with the hostesses!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv0bdv5i_7MMcXArrFW9-UBHh5VwXTXhfEa8f4OB42El6UkUePemLN8I0u6PIzIQSD_OzOGm-97GI2z7ipHxJIjGEX_gr9IISPxpNO4sMSd5YMMfxRl_7UXKeTrblC-rhf3-4F3jBUdzE/s1600/FullSizeRender-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv0bdv5i_7MMcXArrFW9-UBHh5VwXTXhfEa8f4OB42El6UkUePemLN8I0u6PIzIQSD_OzOGm-97GI2z7ipHxJIjGEX_gr9IISPxpNO4sMSd5YMMfxRl_7UXKeTrblC-rhf3-4F3jBUdzE/s400/FullSizeRender-9.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This is Mama's first baby girl after two boys, </div>
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so we went over-the-top feminine with the decor!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3xdfy_FgREpcgtHW9erz0D2Ib1cGgxdYRUNNqYNmuUXjjCRep18VcwA_8g3ja97E_RDJYfxfXJuGgX-ZR4G6dHeGlKhUSifRrX2LHH6yHKL3CrHdeeXt4hyphenhyphenvTKbi8af_ZuUVcIXNv6IE/s1600/Untitled.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3xdfy_FgREpcgtHW9erz0D2Ib1cGgxdYRUNNqYNmuUXjjCRep18VcwA_8g3ja97E_RDJYfxfXJuGgX-ZR4G6dHeGlKhUSifRrX2LHH6yHKL3CrHdeeXt4hyphenhyphenvTKbi8af_ZuUVcIXNv6IE/s400/Untitled.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[We played games and gave out jars of homemade hot fudge for prizes!]</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh8KDP0FzlvQgUlxks3iFUlaTUxhw75QUT6ombqBjjb9KOTs0b8aAvHGBfafs__oyvZNXM6-DFYESRwh08hWzytTzVvL6LAT7Zf2_MHt28C9NNDqeRAdVmmD67uBw9FhGTtm0mhkg0Y2k/s1600/FullSizeRender-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh8KDP0FzlvQgUlxks3iFUlaTUxhw75QUT6ombqBjjb9KOTs0b8aAvHGBfafs__oyvZNXM6-DFYESRwh08hWzytTzVvL6LAT7Zf2_MHt28C9NNDqeRAdVmmD67uBw9FhGTtm0mhkg0Y2k/s400/FullSizeRender-5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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It was a *sweet* time!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz4fsMKwhhS48FULsZXVMzS8pF1dpzQ1VBLutMbhlM-5MFWnRge5ut4Fh8anJvLngxkV1Xsshs32vVBedjysj67J06fbmvy-rqY4z7sWjdu0bRTPFUK-Q_8jHBfhJ1Tfm3gtSsa9EUGew/s1600/FullSizeRender-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz4fsMKwhhS48FULsZXVMzS8pF1dpzQ1VBLutMbhlM-5MFWnRge5ut4Fh8anJvLngxkV1Xsshs32vVBedjysj67J06fbmvy-rqY4z7sWjdu0bRTPFUK-Q_8jHBfhJ1Tfm3gtSsa9EUGew/s400/FullSizeRender-4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-46363040696095298812015-07-25T06:24:00.001-07:002015-07-25T06:24:28.013-07:00If you must count...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyOGUMy-3EZJdkGluYFmR1b3nECA-FuCfEne5c0I6waIQryatbh3yyDz8_QEyfaTQX8bBdGFdBx4MrFUO5eQe4qoax0ikeu_uCIG8J6NRXENvfQhmceLS9lHBggxP_rI9GHwnk0VcDAvA/s1600/IMG_1573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyOGUMy-3EZJdkGluYFmR1b3nECA-FuCfEne5c0I6waIQryatbh3yyDz8_QEyfaTQX8bBdGFdBx4MrFUO5eQe4qoax0ikeu_uCIG8J6NRXENvfQhmceLS9lHBggxP_rI9GHwnk0VcDAvA/s400/IMG_1573.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes I muse in this little space. Occasionally I ramble with the intent to encourage other people in a similar situation to my own who may be struggling. I love to encourage. I love to build up and bolster the faith of friends near and far with my story and the things that God has been teaching me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But most often, when my thoughts and feelings and learned life lessons find their way through my fingertips onto a previously blank page, it is because I need to hear them myself. I need encouragement, I need reminding, and today is one of those days. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I want to both laugh and cry as I remember the chief resident telling me before residency began that I shouldn’t worry, because “July will be easy! We break them in slowly.” And he was serious. We are on day 13 of a 28-day stretch of Riley working without a day off. Until two days ago I thought this would be his day off. I didn’t read the schedule right, and was counting on a brief reprieve. Expectations are a funny thing, aren’t they?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I <i>want</i> choose laughter, but if I’m honest, the tears are waiting at the ready, waiting for a small breach in the dam to burst forth and flood my pillow. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today I find myself tempted to dwell on this fact. </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is rough. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">We have such a long journey ahead. </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My mind wanders to the count. How many more days, how many more months? How many more late nights and early mornings? How many church services, parties, appointments, and dinners will I attend husbandless? And the more I count, the more </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: inherit;">I am tempted to despair.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Counting is dangerous, if you are counting disappointments. If you are highlighting the parts of your life where you foolishly believe, even if for just a fleeting moment, that God is being unkind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If you must count, count blessings.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm0-loHznoLndV-lv-rFzwCjKcVD2tZq_MUBEpSHi7NNedOWH2Dq1gJrcvoJ1ujO4xZtzth1h4uqRV4nY1pwk8AshntWWXO3gprVLOjIeyPtTCG7Ou2w2NpiIU3MvXAD3OAe34MmOIdlY/s1600/IMG_1557+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm0-loHznoLndV-lv-rFzwCjKcVD2tZq_MUBEpSHi7NNedOWH2Dq1gJrcvoJ1ujO4xZtzth1h4uqRV4nY1pwk8AshntWWXO3gprVLOjIeyPtTCG7Ou2w2NpiIU3MvXAD3OAe34MmOIdlY/s400/IMG_1557+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I look back sometimes to the blog posts I wrote during the first two years of medical school. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When the old adage, "when it rains, it pours" was realized in our little family.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> Wow, those were rough years.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But life was so sweet. It was sweet, because it had to be. I was forced to either notice and number my blessings, or sink under the weight of intense trial. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So count I did. Everything. Every moment. Every blossom, every laugh, every success.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I must get back to that. Count that which is good, kind, lovely, true.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If I can do that, my perspective will shift. If I can focus on the small, everyday gifts from my kind and generous Heavenly Father, then this season, too, will be a sweet one.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZAYV6yl9vxPsag2cUhyphenhyphenHciKHgMuekj6QLicBtyifNN0_cAxxvoYKdrjwYlXncr3LPRcpZymYnzefqW7tZ_8UiGEEfTiwOuCnhi8OMYcghGM7SO7P2-NQX3ZsOy8wzqbtKp_i7XkvW-Y/s1600/IMG_1448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZAYV6yl9vxPsag2cUhyphenhyphenHciKHgMuekj6QLicBtyifNN0_cAxxvoYKdrjwYlXncr3LPRcpZymYnzefqW7tZ_8UiGEEfTiwOuCnhi8OMYcghGM7SO7P2-NQX3ZsOy8wzqbtKp_i7XkvW-Y/s400/IMG_1448.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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One, two, three...</div>
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XO</div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-83995478669018475792015-07-21T11:51:00.000-07:002015-07-21T11:51:12.647-07:00Ruffles and Bows<div style="text-align: center;">
Every once in awhile I get just too many cute pictures of something to reasonably post them all on Instagram.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxWnu6qgf4OUQUIdOqqlJJ2bEzmFLFIzOOkEDbJaGieuyY36Tf3SNoRmiw7InV35G01T4xF32bT-3yS69QKHlGOz1M2v-j7zzgSvO35fRXPZzeajryz6LNuC6a4Yppd049a3-pvr-wBds/s1600/FullSizeRender-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxWnu6qgf4OUQUIdOqqlJJ2bEzmFLFIzOOkEDbJaGieuyY36Tf3SNoRmiw7InV35G01T4xF32bT-3yS69QKHlGOz1M2v-j7zzgSvO35fRXPZzeajryz6LNuC6a4Yppd049a3-pvr-wBds/s400/FullSizeRender-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Today it was ruffles... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6aJYNN3d4N2Gt9z72KXC3TZC9lGghX2NnJwyjrcRtF6dA3ERoZEddkQZHHAYrclP-ZG3lxbBl3rz1rry3elzwJQqRUojzic7xCMSq-gki0A-SD3AagdDHXUJlFZ7ZpHdej9uipzXPlHU/s1600/IMG_1488.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6aJYNN3d4N2Gt9z72KXC3TZC9lGghX2NnJwyjrcRtF6dA3ERoZEddkQZHHAYrclP-ZG3lxbBl3rz1rry3elzwJQqRUojzic7xCMSq-gki0A-SD3AagdDHXUJlFZ7ZpHdej9uipzXPlHU/s640/IMG_1488.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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chubby thighs... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOZrwMKY670Wt3tN2cEFi8ed8Bhf-YqBjXXNN5Sa-mFgTedPzrhtHNffOJRPq9l-IynGuLCj7ETE6xt8khy2348PdM2SRv57hEfgzs2cD_-a71cj7O_RX29w3PpZ9_E0FH7QZVqYKcIuk/s1600/IMG_1495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOZrwMKY670Wt3tN2cEFi8ed8Bhf-YqBjXXNN5Sa-mFgTedPzrhtHNffOJRPq9l-IynGuLCj7ETE6xt8khy2348PdM2SRv57hEfgzs2cD_-a71cj7O_RX29w3PpZ9_E0FH7QZVqYKcIuk/s400/IMG_1495.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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and just enough hair to hold a bow.</div>
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Baby girls are just such a delight!</div>
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XO</div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-3077249464565481492015-07-21T06:35:00.000-07:002015-07-21T06:35:09.989-07:00Nine Months! (All of us!)<div style="text-align: center;">
Lois is finishing up her ninth month out of the womb.</div>
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Time is flying, and she's getting so big!</div>
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I thought it'd be fun to do a photo comparison... with pictures of all of us at nine months!!</div>
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We'll start with Daddy:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigo3dm3kA4v6TdJrgAOw1DcAZKduL006piPAxpgZKqB8lfBAkmntNFk1HyKCsRhiCy_KDaJ9321ZQ1lRqmUdr6hi6AV1FjaxFElbXy8be9GiU14udUt4nrmD6Qxea3lbDSCnKXcRIKxvk/s1600/IMG_1481.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigo3dm3kA4v6TdJrgAOw1DcAZKduL006piPAxpgZKqB8lfBAkmntNFk1HyKCsRhiCy_KDaJ9321ZQ1lRqmUdr6hi6AV1FjaxFElbXy8be9GiU14udUt4nrmD6Qxea3lbDSCnKXcRIKxvk/s320/IMG_1481.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Mommy:</div>
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Asher:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWQd55pgky5rNQM9Vb4o3zpjfYWk6GGDcv1Bko7yA6CFog7mbYsmJB6l0BlwtyKAC5mvorNbAqr06W6s9sj_ITW4iPdgHt2Vhzr935Azs0D9pyKaIMjSmIqNmrdE_bj_w3sUmjRHt6wS4/s1600/40056_1570415106834_7371951_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWQd55pgky5rNQM9Vb4o3zpjfYWk6GGDcv1Bko7yA6CFog7mbYsmJB6l0BlwtyKAC5mvorNbAqr06W6s9sj_ITW4iPdgHt2Vhzr935Azs0D9pyKaIMjSmIqNmrdE_bj_w3sUmjRHt6wS4/s320/40056_1570415106834_7371951_n.jpg" width="299" /></a></div>
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Gray:</div>
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And Lois:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuP41X10ApJzOKPWIgi_N3Sn1gqlxdkm6ZPve7lON33C2a_icfvg2b82cEsW4krHW3M6i4-IKgX7al1vb4-7fvyWSGcefN0HXOSJHW_XY5PFaHDf48toXdnCJAYM-dE9_NtHf4RN5YURU/s1600/IMG_1170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuP41X10ApJzOKPWIgi_N3Sn1gqlxdkm6ZPve7lON33C2a_icfvg2b82cEsW4krHW3M6i4-IKgX7al1vb4-7fvyWSGcefN0HXOSJHW_XY5PFaHDf48toXdnCJAYM-dE9_NtHf4RN5YURU/s320/IMG_1170.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Fun, fun!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzhAK2w_kxdv88YVQSBouTjViK5Y3FuDLPBx8PI0jiM7DeCIrV43I-fXdkFqAr7DWjpEZ-QKPyWQtq9OkdZv6YxNYP66iLW0P5kMWxss0aUNbm3UL-OpHLfjLuJEHfA8IzMxJf-gKw03k/s1600/9+months.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzhAK2w_kxdv88YVQSBouTjViK5Y3FuDLPBx8PI0jiM7DeCIrV43I-fXdkFqAr7DWjpEZ-QKPyWQtq9OkdZv6YxNYP66iLW0P5kMWxss0aUNbm3UL-OpHLfjLuJEHfA8IzMxJf-gKw03k/s400/9+months.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-59011890861428706202015-07-20T07:59:00.000-07:002016-08-10T21:07:42.528-07:00The Good Portion: Feasting on the Word of God<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAXSzrubMTDXN8ARBfF6ChgdUf-Qre4bzcHoX9uoXnWxJGalpMF53eyaw8f3tBEhfB8px4gv5-HMQCRWwJq0z3WFopeKwjISxksnumW4A1tkc0_Je01WnT9vqOwEVeTLv4Ktt-IAOODI/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAXSzrubMTDXN8ARBfF6ChgdUf-Qre4bzcHoX9uoXnWxJGalpMF53eyaw8f3tBEhfB8px4gv5-HMQCRWwJq0z3WFopeKwjISxksnumW4A1tkc0_Je01WnT9vqOwEVeTLv4Ktt-IAOODI/s400/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Have you ever tried fasting?</div>
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I have not done it as much as I would like, but when I have, I get weak and shaky. I find myself sitting more than normal, and wanting to take a nap (which I rarely do).</div>
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It's almost impossible to function at maximum capacity when you're not eating well. And it is even worse when you continue that way for an extended period of time.</div>
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Now, this may seem like a change of topic, but stick with me.</div>
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I am a reader, and I especially gravitate toward topics of self improvement written by Christian authors I admire. Being a better mother, a godlier wife, making a home more peaceful, living a life more joyful.</div>
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I especially devour these pieces when I am going through seasons of struggle. </div>
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But, while they encourage me and inspire me, they rarely lead to greater fruit production.</div>
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I can read an article about wasting time on the internet, and then see a link to another article about raising thankful children and click on it. What? I just read about how I should shut the computer and get off the couch! </div>
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I can read about meal planning and budgeting for so long that I run out of time to make dinner and we have to eat out.</div>
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This is crazy!</div>
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And a greater problem is that I sometimes prefer to read books or blog posts over the Word of God. I am tempted to think that if I am struggling to be cheerful when my children are fussy, then I should read a book on loving children rather than reading the gospel. I believe the lie that the Bible is not quite as relevant to what I'm doing right here, right now.</div>
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But it's just that: a lie.</div>
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I am fasting, and wondering why I am not able to keep up. Why I keep struggling with the same sins and same temptations. Why I'm short with the children, sloppy with the laundry, and incapable of maintaining a cheerful spirit in the midst of a kitchen full of dirty dishes...again.</div>
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I need the word of God.</div>
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The bread of life.</div>
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I need to EAT, in order to live rightly.</div>
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<i>"But He answered, </i></div>
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<i>'It is written, man shall not live by bread alone, </i></div>
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<i>but on the Word of God."</i></div>
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<i>Matthew 4:4</i></div>
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We can be tempted to think that we are too busy to carve out time to spend in the Word.</div>
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But look to the story of Mary and Martha.</div>
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<i>"Now, as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, 'Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.' But the Lord answered her, 'Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.'"</i></div>
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<i>Luke 10</i></div>
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Martha was frantically running around, doing <i>good things</i>, but Mary was doing what pleased the Lord. The one thing that was necessary. She was feasting on His words. </div>
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She had chosen the good portion.</div>
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We may live busy lives, full of good, God-honoring work, but we have to find a way. </div>
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Find a way to eat. Daily.</div>
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My technique? I have recently started listening to the Scriptures read to me on my cell phone. I can do this by myself, and with my children. I listen when I drink my coffee in the morning. I listen to it when I do dishes, or fold laundry. Any time I think of it, I turn it on and feast.</div>
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I don't need to catch everything. I don't need to worry if my mind drifts for a moment. If I am soaking in the word of God frequently, I will get to that part again soon enough, and catch something else I may have missed the last time! </div>
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And do you know what? </div>
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I feel fed.</div>
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Hearing it, soaking it in, does wonders for the soul.</div>
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It produces fruit in abundance.</div>
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I read about Abraham's journey to Canaan, and was able to respond calmly to the wild fussing in the boys' room. I read about Judas' money buying the Potter's Field, and managed to produce a clean kitchen, a clean bathroom, and a made bed.</div>
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How does this work?</div>
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It is food. And it nourishes you.</div>
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I have shared this because I am sure that I'm not alone. I hope you are encouraged by my words, and it is my prayer that you will find a way to go, and feast!</div>
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The Lord bless you!</div>
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* * * * * *</div>
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I listen to the Bible on my phone using the Bible Gateway app. It is free, and you can choose from multiple versions to hear read to you. I've been enjoying Max McLean's reading of the English Standard Version.</div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-29396162300417118392015-07-06T09:43:00.000-07:002015-07-06T09:43:01.079-07:00History Next Door<div style="text-align: center;">
We went for a walk this morning.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukBdgWX_tAYSl5jD5J8qG8L9AH2sTSaKVYFwliWGQT3coFkfmL-lD-jOyjT4I9GSZaPYB0jq9KbGAJF4uVXWmx3piSysdhn_t2URztqAzBTU88DF6EC_a01en67Y_upndddF-k4G2xmU/s1600/IMG_1243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukBdgWX_tAYSl5jD5J8qG8L9AH2sTSaKVYFwliWGQT3coFkfmL-lD-jOyjT4I9GSZaPYB0jq9KbGAJF4uVXWmx3piSysdhn_t2URztqAzBTU88DF6EC_a01en67Y_upndddF-k4G2xmU/s400/IMG_1243.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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A walk through this delightful little spot of local history.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2JfIgwa3wjdE3LSjbiFDfpbt-X_qGEisg6X0gM6MuYbPn8DomGkIXCBGkVEWvEdcWY3ZJh3V8qRkQ-wvIEFSW_0AKxpHkSizv6_dxULoyNFSQSw1CI7ibNvkB0PAKSjBa1cB6_4xyl4/s1600/IMG_1248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2JfIgwa3wjdE3LSjbiFDfpbt-X_qGEisg6X0gM6MuYbPn8DomGkIXCBGkVEWvEdcWY3ZJh3V8qRkQ-wvIEFSW_0AKxpHkSizv6_dxULoyNFSQSw1CI7ibNvkB0PAKSjBa1cB6_4xyl4/s400/IMG_1248.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Beautiful buildings of brick and stone that could tell over a hundred years worth of stories if their mouths were opened.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGvAFcHmHYjl63RRV8sWcsNAko3BrvSyy7n37IXgeBgKbHQNRgQPOHUeRg9M-uWciegd0I3wWjyexovXu2OQtsmphof1qzC7BIH4jq3mi4uvf-Zwee9HgxlPhqvOlxBIR1YlCQs4DT5s/s1600/IMG_1262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGvAFcHmHYjl63RRV8sWcsNAko3BrvSyy7n37IXgeBgKbHQNRgQPOHUeRg9M-uWciegd0I3wWjyexovXu2OQtsmphof1qzC7BIH4jq3mi4uvf-Zwee9HgxlPhqvOlxBIR1YlCQs4DT5s/s400/IMG_1262.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The lovely campus was quiet and calm, thanks to the combination of Summer Break and overcast skies.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGRKL_Hw2xiY3r0nAc3hUUKAfWVUVIT5haNwSkc-Yj8iGOwIH0JlALNccmguAtgkDAFZxhsezqEZ6nuw9JRRh8i3p4T5D_wwh6DU0j3usYE8PCCQoaiGDY_uib7JlKy6GSt-yEfHOp_e4/s1600/IMG_1253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGRKL_Hw2xiY3r0nAc3hUUKAfWVUVIT5haNwSkc-Yj8iGOwIH0JlALNccmguAtgkDAFZxhsezqEZ6nuw9JRRh8i3p4T5D_wwh6DU0j3usYE8PCCQoaiGDY_uib7JlKy6GSt-yEfHOp_e4/s400/IMG_1253.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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A peaceful silence accompanied by nothing but chirping birds, a splashing fountain, and laughter of little people discovering new places to climb and play.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJbKFdfanzskiFcdeVPIUaHLc-xKHnbrs0KoBq7SUZ3pPB2NMn7U_GN-QMR__Z0snSsJ_cy8FFT3iqnQ7XHquy6nbfinUbTgSoHdkx0bWX3vp3wkzAWGAGHcNgsjKHJqBekCq8JQ0HqY/s1600/IMG_1259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJbKFdfanzskiFcdeVPIUaHLc-xKHnbrs0KoBq7SUZ3pPB2NMn7U_GN-QMR__Z0snSsJ_cy8FFT3iqnQ7XHquy6nbfinUbTgSoHdkx0bWX3vp3wkzAWGAGHcNgsjKHJqBekCq8JQ0HqY/s400/IMG_1259.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEignfn0AqtUiHsFY-0eJ6Yj6YHwucFckluAwVWSYyyVHdvVGkEsrC89x3HzV4fyLFfRuvhywqSqXpxCtNNlB1sFw7AWy3vQ1ll4KRxc3mprj1M8CunN_MRAsY8Oamq3PCk8wO8JFH3hvGY/s1600/IMG_1255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEignfn0AqtUiHsFY-0eJ6Yj6YHwucFckluAwVWSYyyVHdvVGkEsrC89x3HzV4fyLFfRuvhywqSqXpxCtNNlB1sFw7AWy3vQ1ll4KRxc3mprj1M8CunN_MRAsY8Oamq3PCk8wO8JFH3hvGY/s400/IMG_1255.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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We will be back. Many times. What a charming neighbor this place makes.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7Ic_DCnzQvvdV-JzPB_JwobqvIPOOymM2XjtJ0ofeOv9ICN_rkh98s3B7thDrMFen87cq7vBFQNJgQQI2ZMIbidx4ppU2QmeC65-5KeAGv0PX4brwX9kpb5Hejuy3-qTPAx9P7PJXKA/s1600/IMG_1261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7Ic_DCnzQvvdV-JzPB_JwobqvIPOOymM2XjtJ0ofeOv9ICN_rkh98s3B7thDrMFen87cq7vBFQNJgQQI2ZMIbidx4ppU2QmeC65-5KeAGv0PX4brwX9kpb5Hejuy3-qTPAx9P7PJXKA/s400/IMG_1261.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And what a blessing to live amongst so much beautiful history.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik_AaaL0cYFb1YXXNxbGNMwOtJlt4Z_FIM5EO-3qTOS3iVeqW-ldbwO755ipNq4p8p-25lMsRT-5ff3s2dt3hsE2YYF60U1IIH5OUyKALxq-V-idgoL0D-ERoNNk_f22n2FEvikgone6s/s1600/IMG_1257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik_AaaL0cYFb1YXXNxbGNMwOtJlt4Z_FIM5EO-3qTOS3iVeqW-ldbwO755ipNq4p8p-25lMsRT-5ff3s2dt3hsE2YYF60U1IIH5OUyKALxq-V-idgoL0D-ERoNNk_f22n2FEvikgone6s/s400/IMG_1257.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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XO</div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-39730811316709477322015-07-01T13:45:00.000-07:002015-07-01T13:45:42.100-07:00Ready to Blink<div style="text-align: center;">
First day of residency today!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif2tqDFkfrVX-IVHsrSfQ5NHC2vnUW4voYAzZKGT1Xk6Toa_A4QhDbjo5SFiP8-So9oAzmkphGWskW8JpauLdDdqDDOIKEmIUAOzuQ4LRZuBitOn_IGaZd5qFuv39un9tyMEjTXi0XNew/s1600/IMG_1162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif2tqDFkfrVX-IVHsrSfQ5NHC2vnUW4voYAzZKGT1Xk6Toa_A4QhDbjo5SFiP8-So9oAzmkphGWskW8JpauLdDdqDDOIKEmIUAOzuQ4LRZuBitOn_IGaZd5qFuv39un9tyMEjTXi0XNew/s320/IMG_1162.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We sent Dr. Latham off to work this morning, and I knew that as I waved goodbye, I was waving hello to a new season. </div>
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The next three years will be so busy, they will fly by.</div>
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Long hours, full days, few breaks.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But I also know that I will blink, and it will be over.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2SaU5G8SgeE8o_v5V6iXGkMtJAfzw1J5o4mpswHYy9o-bj8_YNd9XErfg7nSFRTm48olvZvJeuDiCGPOsrWKVHd6hSrF3GvQ9ha_7VRUkBWJpyRVd8v8bnRGe4XnYMR3cjmP2rG43SgY/s1600/IMG_1180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2SaU5G8SgeE8o_v5V6iXGkMtJAfzw1J5o4mpswHYy9o-bj8_YNd9XErfg7nSFRTm48olvZvJeuDiCGPOsrWKVHd6hSrF3GvQ9ha_7VRUkBWJpyRVd8v8bnRGe4XnYMR3cjmP2rG43SgY/s320/IMG_1180.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
These little ones will be big, so big. Hardly recognizable! </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It will take extra work to soak in these days, lest they pass by unnoticed and unappreciated.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Every day is a gift. Even the full ones.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We've enjoyed making lots of fun memories during Daddy's time off...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9YgAOdtEF2Z2_kTd1rMWUGQQR19sSg9ISCkfIH0PD9pswS1y6JexR8JxF3HtWeQHv9THPZDJpY6pNCmrDsfNjSfzQILHOpfjU8iRZyEOwN4T_gWQ51Cnvdg9oPpu-sAweyjcDuwGh6-c/s1600/IMG_0969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9YgAOdtEF2Z2_kTd1rMWUGQQR19sSg9ISCkfIH0PD9pswS1y6JexR8JxF3HtWeQHv9THPZDJpY6pNCmrDsfNjSfzQILHOpfjU8iRZyEOwN4T_gWQ51Cnvdg9oPpu-sAweyjcDuwGh6-c/s320/IMG_0969.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0B4lOCftw6_yooeBqDQ6XcMgRCUzR6mieUzSlIZ-HR2u4xMW9AbKBOnZcdf91FSgiAfNGNjwvngTU3R_JHe9gBsJFj5gMvfpjofjCQTDIqvsAUju3UDWjK-ynnTrxb9deIL8DgQWfDg/s1600/IMG_1152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0B4lOCftw6_yooeBqDQ6XcMgRCUzR6mieUzSlIZ-HR2u4xMW9AbKBOnZcdf91FSgiAfNGNjwvngTU3R_JHe9gBsJFj5gMvfpjofjCQTDIqvsAUju3UDWjK-ynnTrxb9deIL8DgQWfDg/s320/IMG_1152.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLDodUe7KsYYcYz0RnaFJQ3nIxKVzvGkQLP9BmbwNHyzTr6gNoyIb5acRhnfoIOwW8jSwKDd-bcG-L26PJaPZ1Qpr3Ir590mWT3Lu_V2a07FGiWuqqKhwB-batDLATVN1PW4XqdMVMFyM/s1600/IMG_0363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLDodUe7KsYYcYz0RnaFJQ3nIxKVzvGkQLP9BmbwNHyzTr6gNoyIb5acRhnfoIOwW8jSwKDd-bcG-L26PJaPZ1Qpr3Ir590mWT3Lu_V2a07FGiWuqqKhwB-batDLATVN1PW4XqdMVMFyM/s320/IMG_0363.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
And we are looking forward to a new routine.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Finding a new normal.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We are so thankful!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I've much to catch up on here on the blog. I hope to do so soon.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
XO</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-21847660975564653162015-05-19T12:28:00.000-07:002015-05-19T12:28:02.914-07:00Crazy!<div style="text-align: center;">
So, sometimes when your life feels so full and hectic, more stuff manages to cram its way in. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We said goodbye to company today, and now have less than two weeks to clean, paint, and prepare our entire house (an hour away from where we live now) for moving day. In that time we also have to clean, pack and do all that moving-out-of-a-rental-home nonsense at our current residence. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's a bit crazy.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(But maybe not as crazy as these three. Or maybe it is...)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWIB-LDUkybc-paPaos6H6q631SCl0LqhRiMnMKGTY2SA5Yw-CM3yNsPLIJVqeQkJoIP6vcwc-FW3uPScP9267Rv_YryH-2ubFpeWjZ4DkXLuXSnWPA9Kt0rg25wDkMFQ2agjtx-KS6U/s1600/IMG_0597.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWIB-LDUkybc-paPaos6H6q631SCl0LqhRiMnMKGTY2SA5Yw-CM3yNsPLIJVqeQkJoIP6vcwc-FW3uPScP9267Rv_YryH-2ubFpeWjZ4DkXLuXSnWPA9Kt0rg25wDkMFQ2agjtx-KS6U/s400/IMG_0597.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Anyway, in the midst of all that, I ended up with blog problems. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Because I have time for that. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
;)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
If I'm trying to lose my readers, then I think I'm doing a pretty good job at it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My registered domain was having problems, so I've switched back to a free domain for now.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Until I figure out a way to be cool with my very own dot com, you can find me here at thischarminglittlelife.blogspot.com.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPjRNROt9Re4eXs2R4PLQorypElyBTumxDaJv-VgvnBBDr8KSfHNXMsphaFKT2qh3SqI0hvwbj9jOHwY29gJR5q6KoTTpU_tY9YsR9jkn_Jp26LoWaXh1OZdaSO5yJ4V7rKtVcx0tsWCU/s1600/IMG_0575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPjRNROt9Re4eXs2R4PLQorypElyBTumxDaJv-VgvnBBDr8KSfHNXMsphaFKT2qh3SqI0hvwbj9jOHwY29gJR5q6KoTTpU_tY9YsR9jkn_Jp26LoWaXh1OZdaSO5yJ4V7rKtVcx0tsWCU/s400/IMG_0575.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
And hopefully I'll get around to catching you all up on the VERY exciting and extremely full couple of weeks we've just wrapped up! New home, new title (DOCTOR!), family in town, parties thrown, and all levels of fun.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Thanks for being patient!</div>
<br />Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-79796972431216513302015-05-12T07:49:00.003-07:002015-05-12T07:49:45.773-07:00A Big Week!<div style="text-align: center;">
Last week was quite full!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So much happened, here's the summary in picture form...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On Monday:</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUjVZlf5oOS5f7z_jLJuec7ufsaN8mn4Qw6w-7E5j2fY2uVJu8Fz-6Knt8sl5HqE4D6omnrIgCfalAFyyYqSPCTgwgJfeDNh4ub3fDNn-dcF6yEXTXo0G2_fJYFnJD-o9FRXJtTsbRTM8/s1600/IMG_0210.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUjVZlf5oOS5f7z_jLJuec7ufsaN8mn4Qw6w-7E5j2fY2uVJu8Fz-6Knt8sl5HqE4D6omnrIgCfalAFyyYqSPCTgwgJfeDNh4ub3fDNn-dcF6yEXTXo0G2_fJYFnJD-o9FRXJtTsbRTM8/s400/IMG_0210.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Home Sweet Home</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
On Tuesday:</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK2vwY7TgV1ycpWc2gPlhFSk5xsHRAJJMeBe5Obn3HLXGEdbsegPEgsp0OypkntZREmAhsv0kzHByS3WIro9u7hEbY-hiR31WxOKF5o7-eoXVppmmzUgcqO6frsJxTcZz3d90EWg6nrwU/s1600/IMG_0279.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK2vwY7TgV1ycpWc2gPlhFSk5xsHRAJJMeBe5Obn3HLXGEdbsegPEgsp0OypkntZREmAhsv0kzHByS3WIro9u7hEbY-hiR31WxOKF5o7-eoXVppmmzUgcqO6frsJxTcZz3d90EWg6nrwU/s400/IMG_0279.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gramma and Pappy arrived!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On Thursday:</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRhcFr6yivxksKJpYRXs5O8wccKh1tKSnKw6uU-K7aU9_dphsisQcpz7q2q_EHv-a8D56xbN-dN_dPK0C1zT6LfqP98dvXR6ySFEEBPVAI4SujlTtUIbn4Ucktzd-PsFevjhQFOCfTqII/s1600/IMG_0326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRhcFr6yivxksKJpYRXs5O8wccKh1tKSnKw6uU-K7aU9_dphsisQcpz7q2q_EHv-a8D56xbN-dN_dPK0C1zT6LfqP98dvXR6ySFEEBPVAI4SujlTtUIbn4Ucktzd-PsFevjhQFOCfTqII/s400/IMG_0326.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Graduation Family Picnic in Blacksburg</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On Friday:</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99RFX8sD3duKyj6rWFv5Wfywdgi3aYA2QuPBZHYDdZjNjCTZOXV9YNgfiA440QVXo1G9dD9NkimAJO1KWPeqGW592DM0gf8xDvfLXMXROsYxa1bQWqlJA0aSBQrOFavMjvArMJqTlgaw/s1600/IMG_0331.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99RFX8sD3duKyj6rWFv5Wfywdgi3aYA2QuPBZHYDdZjNjCTZOXV9YNgfiA440QVXo1G9dD9NkimAJO1KWPeqGW592DM0gf8xDvfLXMXROsYxa1bQWqlJA0aSBQrOFavMjvArMJqTlgaw/s400/IMG_0331.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A special Date Night out!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On Saturday:</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8_jZN_sJM7l_vcPw88gzZ182010VqGhhFJxqZy7OGCiRgdY7GyRjExPYJ74p-i4miqJZqmdiPMnpLi6OHLuG_ocH1d8N21HKDVVsZMagaGVNia19q0WI-z5AnkfDqUNCNrY8Y3k-LCLw/s1600/IMG_3162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8_jZN_sJM7l_vcPw88gzZ182010VqGhhFJxqZy7OGCiRgdY7GyRjExPYJ74p-i4miqJZqmdiPMnpLi6OHLuG_ocH1d8N21HKDVVsZMagaGVNia19q0WI-z5AnkfDqUNCNrY8Y3k-LCLw/s400/IMG_3162.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hubby became Dr. Hubby!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And then Sunday, of course:</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmzRxMT119_eNz1w6YMWUHyCKsMICY9wADPf40b2GlkpzI3se2Q092RrrACzkH6R-w1MpNL-lAYf8fOvjHK5mc_ENY7Y6JdQi6IODrgX8xR7VZZOxLdaPObBTtLo6kjyMqs9WH9LzGLHs/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmzRxMT119_eNz1w6YMWUHyCKsMICY9wADPf40b2GlkpzI3se2Q092RrrACzkH6R-w1MpNL-lAYf8fOvjHK5mc_ENY7Y6JdQi6IODrgX8xR7VZZOxLdaPObBTtLo6kjyMqs9WH9LzGLHs/s400/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mother's Day with my sweethearts</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The blessings are pouring on our heads these days.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We are so grateful!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
XO</div>
Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-84066416395202226152015-05-05T13:56:00.000-07:002015-05-05T13:56:33.277-07:00Four Years Later<div style="text-align: center;">
Here we are!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Graduation week. I can hardly believe we've made it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I love a good then-and-now comparison, and so when I came across this picture from Hubby's first day of medical school... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPFDFRjqCYIoE6FvKMOIh7u9smZUjnEcDMz_cd5k_nxGiGnjTT0F8McehPtHdwU1W2ld0eDzaoVdvMg8mgQL7beBmzcZF6Mo23VFt-G0qxHjmzrvMj-oELyE4Kcl9Qe9GaqVNNAehRxQ/s1600/232323232_fp53982_nu_338_276_98_WSNRCG_33_2399_94343nu0mrj.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPFDFRjqCYIoE6FvKMOIh7u9smZUjnEcDMz_cd5k_nxGiGnjTT0F8McehPtHdwU1W2ld0eDzaoVdvMg8mgQL7beBmzcZF6Mo23VFt-G0qxHjmzrvMj-oELyE4Kcl9Qe9GaqVNNAehRxQ/s400/232323232_fp53982_nu_338_276_98_WSNRCG_33_2399_94343nu0mrj.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I <i>had</i> to recreate it...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz7rxfF96xM-l0C0mi3eQ9Zaup6A4qGhtFrKvmW1LDUgHrfwFWBi2-JUCl1gAOEx3mRiEb3a8TJq5dv313GXECttEDSQkwW_MhOmObvyqNrLXiMk2SNfx1u3a4loFR7hAEvrM2Fbm0V3c/s1600/IMG_3045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz7rxfF96xM-l0C0mi3eQ9Zaup6A4qGhtFrKvmW1LDUgHrfwFWBi2-JUCl1gAOEx3mRiEb3a8TJq5dv313GXECttEDSQkwW_MhOmObvyqNrLXiMk2SNfx1u3a4loFR7hAEvrM2Fbm0V3c/s400/IMG_3045.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A lot can change in four years!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSowJk4rk4PUOL6K9T9X-kMjYNMS-dZhFXapdQyObvw5orgSOPmLiqWNbtPN8v3VRclM2q2vz2Pff4ENgtPvsN5uSfnSW9LIOjPx7H08teMCWxkqAClTSvTrnCQOlbcr2m06LBK7PeWg/s1600/IMG_3078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSowJk4rk4PUOL6K9T9X-kMjYNMS-dZhFXapdQyObvw5orgSOPmLiqWNbtPN8v3VRclM2q2vz2Pff4ENgtPvsN5uSfnSW9LIOjPx7H08teMCWxkqAClTSvTrnCQOlbcr2m06LBK7PeWg/s400/IMG_3078.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
XO</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-987627190546082222015-05-02T18:23:00.000-07:002015-05-02T18:23:59.151-07:00Teacher Appreciation Pecans<div style="text-align: center;">
We finished up Friday School for the year!</div>
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For end of the year teacher gifts, I made up a simple recipe for candied pecans. They're so delicious, I can't stop eating the extras! </div>
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Since we finished school a bit earlier than the average kiddo does, I thought I'd share the idea on here in case anyone else is out their scratching their heads for an easy, affordable gift that will make your child's teacher feel special and appreciated.</div>
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I used pecans, but this recipe would work with any unsalted nut.</div>
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{RECIPE}</div>
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Simply dump a large bag of pecans (24oz) in the bottom of a large pot. </div>
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Add 1 1/2 cups of water, 3 cups of sugar, and a generous sprinkling of cinnamon. </div>
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Bring to a boil over med-high heat. </div>
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It will look like a thick caramel sauce at first. </div>
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Stir frequently, until the water is boiled out completely and you are left with dry, candy-covered nuts.</div>
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Spread on a cookie sheet or two and allow to cool completely. </div>
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Package in mason jars or cellophane bags and embellish with lace or ribbon.</div>
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Done!</div>
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Happy teacher, happy kiddo, and happy mommy munching the leftovers!</div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-79634664708985312002015-04-30T18:31:00.000-07:002015-04-30T19:09:43.288-07:00Focus<div style="text-align: center;">
Rushing, brushing my teeth, I glance in the mirror. </div>
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So much to do, no time to style my hair. Oh, but I should. </div>
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It would bless my husband, my family.</div>
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So much to do!</div>
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Brush, brush...</div>
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I will style my hair. Just a quick bun. Life seems so full right now! </div>
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So busy, so much to get done.</div>
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I hear the kids running circles downstairs.</div>
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Bottom teeth now...</div>
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I seem to have so little time. I can't even seem to carve out time to pray. So much is happening in our nation right now. So much is happening in my family right now. Why can't I remember to spend more time in prayer? Why can't I devote time to that? When would be the best time of day to add that in? Should I wake earlier?</div>
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Brush, scrub...stop.<br />
Toothbrush suspended in the air between my lips.</div>
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Pray NOW.</div>
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Lord, please help me to focus. Please help me to remember, to pray, to live for you.</div>
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Lord, thank You for reminding me to use right here, right now. Bless my family. Bless our nation. May Your name be glorified in this place.</div>
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Rinse, and done.</div>
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* * *</div>
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Sometimes I just need to readjust my focus. Do you feel that way?</div>
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When God gives you lots to do, it's easy to get caught up in the doing it that you forget the <i>why</i>.</div>
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My chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever. </div>
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I can do that with dishes and food and laundry and more food and school and moving boxes and a calendar full of scribbles. But I have to focus. I have to remember to do it <i>unto the Lord.</i> </div>
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I have to stop thinking to myself and start thinking to Him. </div>
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Pray without ceasing.</div>
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Today I am praising the Lord for His patience, and for a gentle nudge as I brushed my teeth, to stop looking in the mirror and to instead look up.</div>
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I am thanking Him for the fact that He can take my meager offerings and multiply them a hundredfold. I am thankful that Christ the Mediator takes my simple prayers and relays them perfectly to a powerful God.</div>
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And that it only takes one second to adjust my focus.</div>
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I have one second. I'm never too busy for that.</div>
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XO</div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-47614146114916040082015-04-28T18:37:00.000-07:002015-04-28T18:37:40.780-07:00Date Night<div style="text-align: center;">
The sun shone down warm on our faces, and a gentle breeze rolled through the open porch. The sound of the river bubbled in the background, and lemon in my water tasted fresh and sweet.</div>
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It was date night. And it was divine...</div>
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...and a little crazy.</div>
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You see, without sitters in town, date nights out often take on a new flavor these days.</div>
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Different, but still delightful.</div>
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What joy these little people bring to our lives!</div>
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XO</div>
Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-53762684275588895072015-04-22T12:27:00.001-07:002015-04-27T11:07:59.772-07:00This Charming Little Life<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This lovely little blog celebrated it’s FIFTH anniversary this week! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Wow. Thinking back to my very first post (<a href="http://lathamliving.blogspot.com/2010/04/so-ive-never-been-blogger.html" target="_blank">So, I’ve Never Been a Blogger</a>), a lot has changed! At that time I honestly didn’t even know what a blog was. I was told I needed to start one by many different friends and family members, and back then it was primarily used as a means of helping my long distance family members stay connected with the goings on of our growing family, and also as entertainment for my adoring mother, who has religiously read every post since, a minimum of five times. Love her. :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, blog I did. And I have grown to love it. One of my favorite side effects of this blog has been the way that it’s helped to change my perspective in so many facets of life. Through the years we have faced trials great and trials small, and my blog has given me a purposeful outlet through which to view things rightly. When I wake up to <a href="http://lathamliving.blogspot.com/2014/02/well-thats-one-way-to-wake-up.html" target="_blank">children making colossal messes,</a> or when we are <a href="http://lathamliving.blogspot.com/2013/11/travel-day-adventures.html" target="_blank">running impossibly late for a flight</a>, I am able to laugh rather than fret, and I begin drafting the story post in my head as I work through the aftermath of whatever chaos I may have encountered. I love the way that it brings focus to the beautiful little details in my life, as I search for content to talk about. I love that I now have an excuse to take pictures of flowers. And the constant reminder to shift my perspective has not only sweetened the memories I have of my life these last five years, but it has also deepened my love and thankfulness for the Creator God and the many, many gifts He loads on us each day. How can I complain of dirty dishes and mounds of unfolded laundry, when these are the reasons for them?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Over the years I’ve been a bit of a confusing read. I’ve waffled between blogging a journal of our family’s life—a pseudo online scrapbook— and using this platform as a way to encourage friends and family and spread the light of Christ. Sometimes when I write I am talking to myself, sometimes I’m talking to close friends and family, and sometimes I’m talking to anyone who wants to listen. And, much to my total and utter surprise, more and more people are listening!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, on this fifth anniversary, I’ve decided to give this little bitty blog a fresh look and a new name. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Welcome to This Charming Little Life!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And here’s the confession: I’m *still* not a blogger, although I have a better idea as to what a blogger is. I’m a wife. I’m a mommy. I’m most definitely a friend. And I love, love, love to encourage those around me. Whether in person or online, one goal that is intrinsic to my nature is to put a smile on the faces of anyone near me. I delight in splashing the joy of Christ on others, and I hope to use this little spot in the middle of the inter webs to do so for any of you who pop in for a minute. I love to find charm in the ordinary, to adjust my view point and see through new eyes, and that is a good way to pretty much sum up what my blog has become: My cheerful quest for all things lovely and good.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>“Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Philippians 4:8</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Not much will change. I will still post way too many pictures of my darling children. I will still mumble and muse about my lovely little life and all the blessings that chaos brings. But I hope to do so in a way that will inspire you to go out and do the same. I hope you will stop here and be reminded to turn your minds to what is lovely, and pure, and worthy of praise. I hope I can help you notice…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It really is a charming little life!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">XO, Tam</span></div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-35899356962029671382015-04-17T17:38:00.000-07:002015-04-17T17:38:26.423-07:00Muddy Buddies<div style="text-align: center;">
The boys discovered the creek by Grammie's house this afternoon...</div>
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Then they got to experience Grammie's bath tub! ;)</div>
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And little Lois looked on, wondering when she'd get to enjoy the fun.</div>
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Not yet, little dolly. Another day.</div>
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:)</div>
Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-35131235136433221902015-04-08T06:53:00.000-07:002015-04-08T07:00:45.763-07:00Racin' Grason is 4!<div style="text-align: center;">
Gray turned 4 this week.</div>
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How can it be so?</div>
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Time is racing by!</div>
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So, what better way to celebrate than with a race car party??</div>
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We spent Easter with Riley's family, and so after our big feast we went outside and changed into birthday party mode. It was perfect!</div>
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Albeit a touch bright. ;)</div>
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Gray picked a race car party, so there were all sorts of raceway details.</div>
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I think throwing parties is my love language. It's just so fun!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6xwnZlHikDp3E1JoL8OUlbnj-L9JWKFrqSWzUPpHaLzfMFKxdZV1TJ_GCsAK_NAZZ3yKMnA9lgBDkqhlprIPcc0BlqKUBktqtGAC2X3x2iypaeD0cyZD8VzK8WUl40wuk9Qij1WHtYb8/s1600/IMG_2970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6xwnZlHikDp3E1JoL8OUlbnj-L9JWKFrqSWzUPpHaLzfMFKxdZV1TJ_GCsAK_NAZZ3yKMnA9lgBDkqhlprIPcc0BlqKUBktqtGAC2X3x2iypaeD0cyZD8VzK8WUl40wuk9Qij1WHtYb8/s1600/IMG_2970.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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I drew out a roadway for the boys to play with their new cars they found in their goodie bags.</div>
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It was a fun filled time!</div>
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And then they raced around to find the easter eggs Grammie so kindly stuffed full of chocolate.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipYOa9UIxJqRDcSRr_KNqJTPVP5zRnen7P8UBGHoRIe1p2RySctmwQaKBANgkZwfvf3rhHgUZKs30C5vuT1IQa5vldkgCdDhb5C1RvinRDIUVmlmvkeEsYNUgg1EiLMfeQK-YUM9aLx9o/s1600/IMG_2999.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipYOa9UIxJqRDcSRr_KNqJTPVP5zRnen7P8UBGHoRIe1p2RySctmwQaKBANgkZwfvf3rhHgUZKs30C5vuT1IQa5vldkgCdDhb5C1RvinRDIUVmlmvkeEsYNUgg1EiLMfeQK-YUM9aLx9o/s1600/IMG_2999.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[Iron Man had some mad egg finding skills... ;)]</td></tr>
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mmmm....</div>
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Happy Birthday to our Grayson Wayne!</div>
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You are an absolute delight, and we love you so!</div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-49550871492246806202015-04-08T04:59:00.001-07:002015-04-08T06:13:52.897-07:00Easter 2015<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>That Easter day with joy was bright</i></div>
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<i>The sun shone out with fairer light</i></div>
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<i>When, to their longing eyes restored,</i></div>
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<i>The glad apostles saw their Lord,</i></div>
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<i>Halleluia!</i></div>
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Happy Easter from the Lathams!</div>
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XO</div>
Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-333529801738327361.post-6426715134533986022015-04-03T05:19:00.000-07:002015-04-22T10:45:06.197-07:00A Chapter Ending<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Good Friday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The day we humble ourselves as we remember our Savior’s ultimate humiliation. Our sins holding Him on the cross, and His love for us conquering that sin through the most unlikely means imaginable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today we remember the saddest day in the history of God’s story in this world, and we grieve for the part we play in that sadness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But as so frequently happens in the Christian life, sorrow mingles perfectly with joy. Our joy is made full in the knowledge of how death was conquered by one death, and in it the forgiveness of sins, making us clean. A bright light after utter darkness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today is a good day, and in our home, an especially joyous one. Today we celebrate our own bright light. A day in which we cannot help but sing praises to our Lord for His kindness to us. Today we end a chapter of our lives that at times I seriously doubted would ever end. I questioned whether we would survive, and yet here we are: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The end of Medical School. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today is Riley’s last day of rotations. All exams passed, all requirements met. Some paperwork to do, an assortment of remaining ch</span><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">eck marks to make, and then graduation. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Doctor.</i></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[Four years ago, at his White Coat Ceremony]</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> The last four years have been a journey. There is no better way to describe it. Looking back, so much has changed. So much growth. So much strength. So… much. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: inherit;">Those first years were a fight to find light. They were hard and lonely, and long hours led to a darkness that we had to destroy daily, letting the light in. I am so thankful for this blog, because we can use it to look back and see the beauty in those hard days. We fought, and won. Light prevailed. When classmates watched their own marriages end and relationships fragment, we held tight and looked up. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[Studying amidst chaos]</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When sleepless nights were interrupted by early mornings we <a href="http://lathamliving.blogspot.com/2012/11/coffee-break.html" target="_blank">drank coffee</a> and pressed on. We laughed when we could, and took turns crying. I snipped <a href="http://lathamliving.blogspot.com/2012/03/scouting-outing.html" target="_blank">flowers on long walks</a> and ushered happiness indoors with their pretty stems. Children squealed in a backyard that was once thought too tiny, but has been remembered with fondness since departing. Somehow it was <a href="http://lathamliving.blogspot.com/2013/07/blessings-in-excess.html" target="_blank">big enough for mud</a>, and we learned to appreciate that. Asher still wants to go back.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVEQGHk2TN0jmU6jC8yiE0Qq0bal_gbXtX-Lswgr7ihwZ2m8_5CME6CGJYETDJWl7AyNWwaTDlVH7mwc8tYB6sYvW5l6JXvAITv2qm3ergEbuOvF0jxrcJP-K7VsMPXuk6cVA-3Xng9vM/s1600/P1030468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVEQGHk2TN0jmU6jC8yiE0Qq0bal_gbXtX-Lswgr7ihwZ2m8_5CME6CGJYETDJWl7AyNWwaTDlVH7mwc8tYB6sYvW5l6JXvAITv2qm3ergEbuOvF0jxrcJP-K7VsMPXuk6cVA-3Xng9vM/s1600/P1030468.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFShy0jsiF3S_PeHmeklFooc6TXvA-KL87LRImW07FTW9DmJIVc0VnYuuvyjTGz_7fsgp3090wz-0JRoQSmxsvM9xfVEKhRdWsAwVl4bukzC5ovyXGFLWzlcsCcTsw3dfmgQeMVyf-Og/s1600/P1050196.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFShy0jsiF3S_PeHmeklFooc6TXvA-KL87LRImW07FTW9DmJIVc0VnYuuvyjTGz_7fsgp3090wz-0JRoQSmxsvM9xfVEKhRdWsAwVl4bukzC5ovyXGFLWzlcsCcTsw3dfmgQeMVyf-Og/s1600/P1050196.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFShy0jsiF3S_PeHmeklFooc6TXvA-KL87LRImW07FTW9DmJIVc0VnYuuvyjTGz_7fsgp3090wz-0JRoQSmxsvM9xfVEKhRdWsAwVl4bukzC5ovyXGFLWzlcsCcTsw3dfmgQeMVyf-Og/s1600/P1050196.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFShy0jsiF3S_PeHmeklFooc6TXvA-KL87LRImW07FTW9DmJIVc0VnYuuvyjTGz_7fsgp3090wz-0JRoQSmxsvM9xfVEKhRdWsAwVl4bukzC5ovyXGFLWzlcsCcTsw3dfmgQeMVyf-Og/s1600/P1050196.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">Then after two years, <a href="http://lathamliving.blogspot.com/2013/01/a-transplanting.html" target="_blank">another move</a>, this one with a tease. Close enough for church, family, friends on occasion, but too far for last minute sitters or friendly coffee deliveries. But, as the Lord would have it, the light came easier. The sun shone on a beautiful house with our own space. Rays streaked through lace curtains and hit the heads of growing boys that play hard and laugh loud. Daddy was welcomed home more often, and what was once a book with a headache and bloodshot eyes turned into a well loved, hard working, almost doctor. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[Student Dr. L]</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Patients raved, doctors praised, and wife beamed with joy and gladness and <a href="http://lathamliving.blogspot.com/2013/08/onto-peds.html" target="_blank">pride</a>. More light, brighter light, more time together, and happiness that came without such a fight. But we still fought. We had been trained, and wouldn’t stop. And the fight got us through long hours, midnight call, and seasons sprinkled with <a href="http://lathamliving.blogspot.com/2014/05/three-years-down.html" target="_blank">months</a> of a father’s <a href="http://lathamliving.blogspot.com/2013/11/welcome-home.html" target="_blank">absence</a> as he trained under doctors in other towns. The fight got us through trials small, and trials great. <a href="http://lathamliving.blogspot.com/search?q=thankful+still" target="_blank">Our third child </a>left our world and entered into glory, and we fought. Grace poured out on us and we saw light, even in the darkest days. We were made strong, prepared for this greatest of fights, and the light shone bright. Holidays followed, and a <a href="http://lathamliving.blogspot.com/2014/07/better-and-bountiful.html" target="_blank">new baby</a> formed. A daughter to squeeze and hold and smell. Light manifest. Joy in abundance. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[Early smiles]</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The blessings have been steadily replacing the darkness over this last year. Our armor is still on, but the fighting comes easy. The battle drills like dance moves, well rehearsed. War trains soldiers better than any boot camp can. And the training is good, as the hard days aren’t over. They may be different, but the fight for light will never end. Contentment and joy are worth fighting for.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Looking forward we see <i>home</i>. Residency will resurrect long hours and late night studies. It will usher in my first Sunday mornings flying solo with three children to keep quiet and still as they learn to worship their Maker. It will hold new temptations and new battles, but we will fight as we’ve been prepared to fight. We will live surrounded by light. We will open the curtains, and we will be home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This chapter ending is sweet, so sweet. And yet, looking back, there is sadness as well. These days have been hard, but they have been blessing. Growth of faith, growth of family, and growth of love and respect for my husband have been hallmarks of this season. We have received grace upon grace, and eyes to see it. What a gift.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now, onto the next! Further up and further in.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[Waving goodbye to Daddy on his last day]</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>(Far from) THE END</b></span></div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01570805289698608909noreply@blogger.com0