tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30086600997260247612024-03-20T00:00:52.538-06:00selahTaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.comBlogger171125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-67231792121688606262013-07-21T07:07:00.000-06:002013-07-21T07:51:37.892-06:00| one minute with bennett |<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-28853557610050079752013-07-16T22:45:00.000-06:002013-07-16T22:53:49.729-06:00| tread | I remember sinking in an ocean that was too deep.<br />
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Unbearable. </div>
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Suffocating.<br />
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It was around the same time that the ones beside me pulled the life raft out from under me, and left me alone. </div>
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The darkness was unending. Miles of deep blue. Leaving me abandoned and alone.</div>
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Treading. </div>
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Tired. </div>
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Broken. </div>
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I searched and wondered if anyone would come. Could they hear my call? A cry for help, in the deepest waters that I had ever treaded. </div>
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When I looked around there was nobody there to help. Only a few in the distance who watched and did nothing. </div>
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As I treaded on, and called out to You, sure that you had forsaken me, there You were. </div>
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In the distance I could see you. Approaching me in the darkest of nights. </div>
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At first it was unclear, but the more exhausted I became, the brighter You began to shine. </div>
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You were there the whole time. Watching on, as I became stronger, and held on a bit longer. </div>
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I gasped for air, sure that this would be my last breath, and you reached out, pulling me into safety. </div>
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Why did you wait so long to help me? Did you not see my struggle?</div>
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It is in that moment that I wonder if I am worthy. </div>
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Am I loved? </div>
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Why would you wait? </div>
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Why watch the struggle? </div>
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He pushes us to greatness. </div>
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Further than we thought we could go. </div>
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Longer than we thought we could last. </div>
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He pulls the strength out of us, that which we didn't even know was there. </div>
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That is when it becomes clear. He is always there.<br />
Watching and waiting. </div>
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Ready and able. </div>
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Strong and mighty to save. </div>
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And all of us have treaded these waters. Reaching out for someone to help us. Searching in the distance for one that would rescue us. </div>
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After we have suffered a little while. </div>
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Treaded on. </div>
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Gasped for one more breath. </div>
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Conquered exhaustion. </div>
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He himself will restore.</div>
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Strengthen. </div>
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Support.</div>
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He himself will rescue you from those deep waters, and place you on a firm foundation. </div>
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| 1 Peter 5: 10 |</div>
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TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-53526016723236625212013-05-22T21:37:00.001-06:002013-05-22T21:46:46.084-06:00Be Still My Anxious Heart. <br />
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Four months in and it was crippling. </div>
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Unable to leave the house. </div>
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The inability to find words for a simple conversation. </div>
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Overheating in an instant. </div>
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It was clear that something was wrong, and I felt trapped in my own body. Unable to fix everything that felt so wrong. </div>
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Days and days passed, and there was no will to move. To function. To enjoy the life that has been so graciously given to me. </div>
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It appeared that motherhood had exposed a whole new level of anxiety that I had yet to experience. </div>
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For years I have been a person who has battled with anxiety. </div>
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How will it all come together? </div>
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What is the plan? </div>
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What do they think of me? </div>
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What should I say? </div>
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Am I good enough? </div>
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The list of anxious thoughts is endless and it circled through my head daily. And, for years I was able to self medicate with easing up on my coffee intake, and reciting a list of positive phrases over and over. </div>
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By Christmas it was almost unbearable. </div>
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I can't do this. </div>
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Why did I have a baby? </div>
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I am not strong enough.</div>
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I don't have enough money. </div>
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I am stuck. </div>
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This is unbearable. </div>
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<b>It's a heart wrenching thing when you love the child in front of you, but feel incapable of loving it enough. </b></div>
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One trip to Ontario, and a trip to the Dominican were great. They were a break. A welcome breath of fresh air. But they were temporary and a distraction. </div>
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I remember getting home from my trip to the Dominican and countless amounts of people saying "Wow. You left your baby? That must have been so hard…" No. Not really. </div>
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It was a cold Saskatchewan day when I was laying in bed with the covers over my head and sobbing when Matt texted me and said "Would you be mad if I told you that I think you have post partum depression?" I replied with "No. I know I do." </div>
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<b>What is it inside of us that causes us to fight until the very end, even when we know that we cannot do it?</b></div>
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A day later I was sitting in my doctor's office. Greasy hair. Unwashed face. Unbrushed teeth. Bottom lip quivering. </div>
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Doctor: "What's going on?"</div>
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Me: Big tears "I didn't even miss my baby when I was in the Dominican! I haven't brushed my teeth in two days and I am a dental hygienist!!!! There is something wrong…" </div>
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I am thankful for a great doctor who took time to listen to me, and my concerns. Who didn't give me a textbook answer, but has walked beside me to this day.<br />
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That day I left with my very own prescription for an anti-anxiety medication. A moment in my life where the walls of pride came crashing down. </div>
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It was a great relief to learn that help and medication did not mean that I was weak. A lie I had believed for so long. </div>
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My doctor had concluded that I had anxiety that was heightened post partum, and was probably causing a bit of depression. </div>
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I had never felt so relieved. </div>
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I wasn't crazy. </div>
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There was hope. </div>
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It was like that day a weight was lifted off my shoulders. The days following were like freedom I had never know. </div>
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I don't remember ever feeling this healthy. </div>
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There is so much joy in a heart that feels at peace.<br />
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Free. Calm. </div>
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I write all this now because tomorrow I am embarking on something that I would have NEVER done 6 months ago. I am flying, alone, with a 10 month old. I have a few concerns, but I can honestly say that I haven't really thought about it much. I am excited, at peace, and almost carefree about the whole experience. </div>
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This is a whole new me! I even surprised myself with this one. </div>
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I am enjoying my son like never before. </div>
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The little things that use to get me worked up, are now just little things that aren't worth worrying about.</div>
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My friendships are getting stronger, because I have stopped caring about what they think of me, and just learned to enjoy the times together. </div>
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If you are going through something similar please know: </div>
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You are not weak </div>
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You are not alone</div>
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You are not crazy. </div>
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In my conversations with people, it turns out, you are actually quite normal. </div>
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<b>You could be just a step away from enjoying your life the way it is intended to be. </b></div>
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<b>Take the step. </b></div>
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TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-87794044575755906612013-02-06T10:14:00.000-06:002013-02-06T10:52:04.015-06:00| lessons from a dreamer: part one | <span style="font-size: small;">From the time I was a little I have always been a girl with big dreams. I was convinced for years that I was going to be a famous singer. I would sing in my room with hairbrush in hand, staring at myself in the mirror while belting out Bette Midler tunes. <i>I especially favoured "The Rose".</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNuPaDduftTaSNqAe1VIctVXE5i3srB_6IWxZpsKUz-6rPoD1-V3rNburnVHyxnFSzxFaXBA0KgGHpMLjGpWuqXTfoirpbQrJ0SgqoLb-ugEKyF_iVgBqBN1G-wc80GYiIu4p2qq4bV_Q/s1600/photo-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNuPaDduftTaSNqAe1VIctVXE5i3srB_6IWxZpsKUz-6rPoD1-V3rNburnVHyxnFSzxFaXBA0KgGHpMLjGpWuqXTfoirpbQrJ0SgqoLb-ugEKyF_iVgBqBN1G-wc80GYiIu4p2qq4bV_Q/s400/photo-2.JPG" width="298" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">You can't deny my stage presence... </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></i></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Later in life I started vicariously dreaming for other people, especially my husband, and now for my son <i>(cheese string ministry)</i>. And, even if we aren't related, I tend to put dreams into place for other people, too... <i>not mentioning any names, ahem, Carly Morris, and your future pediatric dental practice. . </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Tonight as I sat around with Matt, discussing practical plans for the future, as well as the dreams that we have for our life together, I was reminded of Joseph. The dreamer.</span><br />
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<span class="text Gen-37-5" id="en-AMP-1089" style="font-size: small;">''</span><span class="text Gen-37-5" id="en-AMP-1089" style="font-size: small;"><span class="text Gen-37-2" id="en-AMP-1086">Joseph, when he was <b>seventeen years old</b>, was shepherding the flock with his brothers; </span></span><span class="text Gen-37-5" id="en-AMP-1089" style="font-size: small;"><span class="text Gen-37-2" id="en-AMP-1086"><span class="text Gen-37-3" id="en-AMP-1087">Now Israel loved Joseph
more than all his children<b> </b>because he was the son of his old age, and he
made him a [distinctive] long tunic with sleeves.</span></span> Now <b>Joseph had a dream</b> <b>and he told it to his brothers, and they hated him still more</b>.</span><span class="text Gen-37-6" id="en-AMP-1090" style="font-size: small;"><sup> </sup>And he said to them, Listen now <i>and</i> hear, I pray you, this dream that I have dreamed:</span><span class="text Gen-37-7" id="en-AMP-1091" style="font-size: small;"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>We
[brothers] were binding sheaves in the field, and behold, my sheaf
arose and stood upright, and behold, your sheaves stood round about my
sheaf and bowed down!</span><span class="text Gen-37-8" id="en-AMP-1092" style="font-size: small;"><sup> </sup>His brothers said to him, Shall you indeed reign over us? Or are you going to have us as your subjects <i>and</i> dominate us? And they hated him all the more for his dreams and for what he said.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> <span class="text Gen-37-9" id="en-AMP-1093"><b>But Joseph dreamed yet another dream</b> <i><b>and told it to his brothers</b></i>'' Genesis 37 </span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<span style="font-size: small;">I love this story because it encourages me when I think that my own dreams are merely creative brain waves. It reminds me: </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Age is not an issue</b>. Unfortunately, we have a tendancy to in our society to believe that "life really begins" when we get older. And, for most people, we are always waiting for the next stage to persue what is on our hearts. I love that the Bible points out that Joesph was 17 years old, faithfully working where he was planted. When you have a dream, age is not an issue, whether old or young. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Haters are gonna hate.</b> Whenever you have a dream, and share it with people, the chances are you're going to have some haters. Meaning, when it's not their dream, and they aren't in the process of dreaming their OWN dream, you can count on some jealousy probs. Dreams aren't about size or significance. Your dream and call may be fulfilling the longings of your heart, and when you compare it with someone else's you can be convinced that it is insignificant. If you aren't yet dreaming dreams, don't be a hater for those that are. And if you are living your dream right now, don't compare it to anyone else's. Yours is "big" enough, and it's good enough. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Keep on dreaming:</b> Joseph's brothers hated him "all the more" after he shared his dream with them, but he "<i>dreamed yet another dream</i> and told it to his brothers." Don't let the thoughts and opinions of others stop you from dreaming. Don't let what one person says to you, or about you, stop you. I have a <span style="font-size: small;">tendency</span> to let the actions or words that people say to me completely change my outlook on a situation, or dream that I have in motion. Don't shut down just because you have some opposition. Sometimes your opposition is just pushing you into the next level of your dream. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">I probably won't ever be centre stage singing "The Rose" to a stadium of people. And to be honest, I'm happy about that. But there are plenty of new dreams that I am dreaming for myself, my family, and maybe even <i>you</i>... Creepy? <i>I'm looking at YOU, Carly Morris. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Your dreams are worthy. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Your age is not an issue. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Dream another dream. </b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">What you may perceive to be a small dream could end up being a part of a greater story. </span><br />
<br />TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-58508012298557606982013-02-05T23:27:00.004-06:002013-02-05T23:28:59.185-06:00| #hashtags. |<br />
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Bennett. #HappiestMoment</div>
<br />TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-64813192391993422552013-02-01T07:58:00.001-06:002013-02-01T07:58:49.379-06:00| high five for friday |<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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1. Bennett and his crack. Mum Mums. Thankful for the ability to stop a baby from whining... for a few minutes. It may be "bribery", but it works. <i>Don't judge me. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>2. </i>This is our new thing. Morning breakfast dates. In between first nap and second nap.<br />
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3. Thankful that we are just a quick trip to visit Dad on days when we need to get out of the house. It's cheap entertainment!<br />
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4. Started watching The Hills series for the... thousandth time this week. Never gets old.<br />
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5. There is simply no place like home! Made this and put it up in our house this week. Yes, that is the province of Saskatchewan.<br />
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TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-85023634716543908882013-01-28T10:25:00.002-06:002013-01-28T10:46:20.586-06:00| dark exhaustion | I'm not sure if it is the endless darkness, or the fact that I am a new mom, but lately I am exhausted. That- <i>can't get out of bed-just five more minutes-fall asleep on the couch while watching your baby and gripping your coffee cup- </i>kind of exhaustion.<br />
<br />
Around here, at this time of year, it is dark at 5 pm, and it doesn't get light until around 9 am. You basically go to work in the darkness, and go home in the darkness. <br />
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<b>When you are constantly living in darkness it begins wear on your soul. </b><br />
<br />
Cabin fever.<br />
Seasonal depression.<br />
Exhaustion.<br />
<br />
<b>"the <span class="small-caps">Lord</span> my God lightens my darkness."</b> - Psalm 38:29<br />
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When the depths of darkness start to takeover, and there seems to be no end, He will bring even the deepest darkness to light. He will lift the heaviness of depression, that suffocates the lungs. He will bring rest, in the midts of a deep exhaustion.<br />
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The great thing about Northern Canada, is that when the summer comes, the light is unending. We wake up in the light, and fall asleep in the light. <br />
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<b>Sooner or later the darkness will break. </b><br />
<br />
Energy will be restored. A light will shine.<br />
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But every season has it's purpose, and God is too good to push us beyond what we can bare.<br />
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For if we didn't know the deepest moments of darkness, we would not be able to understand the greatness of His good light. <br />
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<b>Lord be the light of our souls, when our whole being is crippled by the weight of darkness. Remind us of your good light, when we cannot see past the night. Be my energy when I am overcome with exhaustion. </b><br />
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<b>You are the Lord, my God, who lightens my darkness. </b><br />
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TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-37830566694293078372013-01-26T15:36:00.002-06:002013-01-26T15:37:52.629-06:00| whole | This is a blog post that I wrote for my friend Nicole's blog. You can check her out <a href="http://motheroffivelittleladies.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank">here</a>! <br />
<br />
Often times I find myself asking God why He uses the people that He does. Why does one gain fame? Another "become" rich? Why do some people have the ability to talk to anyone at anytime? How do the most unlikely people rise from the worst of circumstances, and become great?<br />
<br />
Since the beginning of the year I haven't been able to get the word whole out of my mind. The last few days it has been rolling around in my heart, and I feel like it has become my "word of the year". I don't know about you, but I have a lot of "things on the go". Always started, never completed. I have parts of me that I feel have come a long way, and other parts that I feel are a frazzled mess.<br />
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I desire to be full in heart, deep in character, and to complete everything that I take on whole-heartedly.<br />
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The other day I was reading my daily devotional from #SheReadsTruth (an AWESOME online site that I highly recommend), and it brought me to this verse:<br />
"But my servant Caleb, because he has a different spirit and has followed me fully, I will bring into the land into which he went, and his descendants shall posses it..." Numbers 14:24 (ESV)<br />
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BACK STORY: The Israelites escaped from the Egyptians and a life of slavery. Caleb and some other men went and scoped out the land that God had promised to them. When they approached it they saw that the inhabitants were very strong, and they told their people that they would not be strong enough to take over the land. But Caleb --- he believed that they were fully capable of taking it. Regardless, the Israelites continued to complain and turn against God. The didn't enter the Promise Land at that time, and continued to wander around the desert for 40 years.<br />
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Growing up in church, I have heard this story hundreds of times. I know that the Israelites were whiney. I know how it ends, etc... but I had never read the part about Caleb like I did this time. After questioning God so many times about why He uses the people that He does, it was so clear.<br />
<br />
"because he has a different spirit, and has followed me fully."<br />
fully. whole heartedly. different. willing. trusting. hopeful.<br />
<br />
There is no mention of Caleb's talent, or dynamic verbal skills. It doesn't say he was above average in intellect. He wasn't bigger or stronger. He wasn't supernaturally gifted. He had a different spirit, and he followed God with a full heart and the belief that he could do what God had called him to do.<br />
I was so intrigued by Caleb that I HAD to look up what his name meant on babynames.com (its an obsession that i have, because i think that names are so important and i like when people reflect the name that they have been given) and here is what it said:<br />
<br />
whole. hearted.<br />
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This year, even though I have resolved to have no resolutions, I am striving to live whole hearted in everything that I do. As a wife, mom, friend, dental hygienist, leader, etc. I am going to stop asking God what he requires of me so that I can become great, and just do what he has already called me to do --- fully.<br />
<br />
i will<br />
work on the talents He has already given me.<br />
love unconditionally.<br />
trust fully.<br />
reach beyond my comfort zone.<br />
listen for His still small voice.<br />
be bold enough to be different.<br />
live everyday knowing that it's a stepping stone to a greater path that I am being led down.<br />
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Caleb was 40 when he first saw the Promised Land, and he didn't enter it until he was 85. He was only 1 of 2 men from the first generation of Israelites that entered the land that they were searching for.<br />
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a whole hearted person:<br />
remembers the promise, even when it seems to be broken.<br />
remains hopeful during disappointments.<br />
recognizes that just because it hasn't happened, it doesn't mean it's lost.<br />
remains on the path, when the detour is tempting.<br />
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Whatever you are facing, or going to face this year, do it whole heartedly. You may not know the destination, or the reasons why you are on the journey, but if you can go down the path fully trusting the one who leads you - I promise that the reward is great.<br />
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God is looking for the one who sees things differently, and will follow him fully.<br />
Those are the ones that He uses.<br />
Those are the ones that He makes great.TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-86890582233172164352013-01-22T09:35:00.000-06:002013-01-26T23:55:24.059-06:00| the jealousy game & making a name | <br />
For a long time I have had issues being happy for other people. I can remember being furiously jealous in high school, later in ministry, and even still to this day. <b>I have to talk myself out of the downward spiral of jealousy on a daily basis. </b><br />
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In a world where everyone wants to be famous, have their 15 minutes of fame, make a name for themselves, glorifying those that we deem "important" --- it is so easy to get caught up in the web of frustrating jealousy. <b> </b><br />
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Jealousy says: <b>"You're not good enough to have what <i>they</i> have". </b>When in reality,<b> you are worthy of having your own story. </b><br />
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Whether or not most of us want to admit it, it is the innate desire to make a name for ourselves that often fuels our jealousy. <i>Great dresser. Awesome speaker. Talented musician. Wonderful person. Successful in ministry. All around good-gal!</i> And <b>when you start viewing others to have attained more than you, that's when the seed starts to take root. </b><br />
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<i>I am attempting to read the whole bible this year, not out of a resolution, or religious practice but as a way to open my eyes beyond the 5 verses I know. </i>Tonight I was reading the story of the Tower of Babel, and there was one verse that jumped off the page for me: <br />
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<span class="verse v4" data-usfm="GEN.11.4"><span class="label"></span><span class="content">"Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower </span><span class="note x"></span><span class="content">with its top in the heavens, and<b> let us make a name for ourselves..." </b>Genesis 11:3 (ESV) <b><br /></b></span></span><br />
<span class="verse v4" data-usfm="GEN.11.4"><span class="content"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span class="verse v4" data-usfm="GEN.11.4"><span class="content">If you don't know this story here is the quick version: The people on earth at that time only spoke one language. They got together, started to plan this tower to reach the heavens, God saw that there was nothing they wouldn't be able to do, so He <i>confused</i> them by giving them all different languages. </span></span><br />
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<span class="verse v4" data-usfm="GEN.11.4"><span class="content"><i>I know. Crazy.</i></span></span><br />
<span class="verse v4" data-usfm="GEN.11.4"><span class="content"><br /></span></span>
<b>From the beginning of time fame has been the desire of the human heart. </b><br />
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<b>It temporarily fulfills our need to feel worthy. </b><br />
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<b>It feeds our addiction for the approval of others. </b><br />
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<b>It falsely satisfies the longing for success. </b><br />
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<b>When you get your eyes fixated on making a name for yourself, God will confuse you to the point of frustration. </b><br />
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Why not me? What makes them better? Haven't I worked just as hard? Am I not worth it? The list goes on and on. The more time that I spend on these questions, the more he frustrates me, because <b>there is no logical answer. </b><i><br /></i><br />
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Yes, we are all talented in different areas. Our longings and interests are vast, but the God that is the giver of them all does not hand them out on the basis of favourtism.<br />
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<b>God does not play favourites</b>.<br />
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He is no "respecter of persons". Meaning, He sees you and the person you are most irrationally jealous of through the same eyes. Love. <br />
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<b>It's time to stop trying to live out another person's story, and live your own. </b><br />
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How?<br />
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Realizing that comparison is just a distraction to keep you from being YOU.<br />
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Understanding life is not a competition. <br />
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Knowing that being called to do something different, isn't a lesser call.<br />
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Taking the step towards being who you are, and moving away from the standpoint of jealousy.<br />
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Moving past the desire to make a name for yourself, and living to glorify His. <br />
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<b><i>He's already given you a name, now start being who He's asked you to be. </i></b><br />
<br />TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-82649217385942123982013-01-16T18:48:00.001-06:002013-01-30T22:24:30.924-06:00Mom Gig: New Mom In An Opinionated WorldEveryday I am bombarded with countless articles, statuses' and links that circle around the issue of parenting. <i>It's ok... don't leave! i assure this isn't another one of those very things. </i><br />
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I often wonder what it would be like to be a new parent in the 80's. When formula was all the rage, and car seats were picking up steam. <i>I would have loved it. I Googled "when did car seats become mandatory", and most people born before 1980 only remember sitting on their parent's lap, or coming home in the form of a shoe box. </i><br />
<i> </i><br />
Breast fed or bottle fed. Crib or co sleeper. The introduction of food. Being a mom returning to the work field. These are just a few of the controversial topics that circulate around my social media on a daily. <i>If it weren't for my family and close friends in other parts of the world, I would do away with Facebook, because I can't cope. Twitter. Instagram. They're really where it's at. </i><br />
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As a person who is probably considered to be mean and old school... I am often highly irritated when it comes to the opinion of others on these very topics. My baby drinks formula, sleeps in his own crib, gets his milestone vaccinations, went to the chiropractor, has been introduced to foods, sometimes I make him cry himself to sleep and occasionally (<i>daily</i>) he is exposed to the t.v. <i>He thinks Judge Judy is his Grannie - I kid. </i><br />
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<b>It's not that I believe that I am right, and you are wrong... it's that although some things may be better, it doesn't mean their alternative is wrong. </b><i>And well, when you treat me like it is, I get moody. </i><br />
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Here's the thing. If you have been a parent for 5 seconds you know how hard and glorious it is all in the same breath. Once the initial adrenaline rush of being a new mom wears off, reality sets in, then the weight of your new role sinks in - and sometimes that reality isn't pretty. <br />
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So the question is - <b>if you know it's hard, and I know it's hard, why are we so hard on each other? </b><i>And I am only 6 months in. I can't WAIT to see what it's like when he has a toddler meltdown at church, or encounters school politics. </i><br />
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I would have loved to have breastfed my baby for more then a week <i><b>(real talk)</b></i> ... but well, there are these things called <i>complications</i>, and sometimes all doesn't go as planned. If I had a month of support post delivery, and a live in doula, I am sure that I would have conquered my breast feeding woes, but that just didn't happen. After three days of public health insisting I feed Bennett by way of syringe and tube, you could say I was on the verge of a postpartum meltdown.<i> So, if you could cease from giving me a condescending eye when I whip out my kid's bottle full of formula, that would be great. </i><br />
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We all have a story. We have expectations, and dreams, and sometimes they come crashing down, because reality has this way of setting in. <br />
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I am not better than you. You are not better than me. <b>Sometimes it's important to step away from the place of your stubborn stance and look at a situation from another angle.</b> <i>I assure you I am preaching to myself, as well.</i><br />
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What works for you and your family?<br />
Are you and your baby happy?<br />
Do the people that question you really affect your life?<br />
I run through this list of questions over and over again. <br />
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I know for me there are some things that I am passionate about, and they may not be the same for you, but that's what makes us all who we are. There are things that I question on a daily, and other things that I know without a doubt. But really, if another person's choices aren't hurting you, does it really do any good to let them know your opinion? <i>Especially if they don't ask?</i> There are a lot of modern practices that I am not keen on. I rarely shed my opinion on them, because I doubt my opinion matters. <b> </b><br />
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<b>I don't have to live your life, and you don't have to live mine. </b><i>Amen to that, amirite</i><i>? </i><b><br /></b><br />
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If you haven't had a baby yet, but are considering it, please know that you will have dreams and ideas about what being a parent is like - and from the moment you tell people you are pregnant, they will crush them. It's what people do, and it's really annoying. Most people mean well, but just remember that dreaming is a part of the process, and when YOUR reality hits, some of those things will be just like you had imagined, and others will not. And it's ok to make decisions based on that alone. <b> </b><br />
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<b>Your reality. Your life. </b><br />
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I am not probing for a debate, or a declaration of "I am right and you are wrong". That would defeat the point of my post. I am sick of the right and wrong thing. <b> </b><br />
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<b>I am just asking that as parents we go easy on each other, because we are all in this together. </b><br />
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Help, and not judge.<br />
Ask, and not assume.<br />
Walk side by side, and not compete.<br />
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Take the tidbits of wisdom that help, and brush off the things that don't.<br />
Find someone that you trust, who will stand beside you and assure you that you are not failing.<br />
Live YOUR life, and do what works for you.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I</span> was terrified that <span style="font-size: x-small;">I</span> would lose an<span style="font-size: x-small;">y</span> form of bond with Bennett when <span style="font-size: x-small;">I</span> switched him to a bottle. <span style="font-size: x-small;">T</span>urns out he loves me just the same, and he looks at me a million times a day like <span style="font-size: x-small;">I </span>am the coolest person in the world. <span style="font-size: x-small;">These are the moments that matter to me. </span></span></div>
TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-3107409628434123742013-01-14T22:16:00.001-06:002013-01-30T22:23:29.907-06:00Weight Issuestoday was my seven year wedding anniversary.<br />
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this isnt a post about love, or my lessons in marriage. to be honest, i wouldn't even know where to begin when it comes to talking about marriage. all i know is that i love my husband desperately. he frustrates me daily. i love who we are becoming, as individuals and a couple, and it's hard work. i wouldn't change a thing, and i know that i am with exactly who i am suppose to be with. he streches me, teaches me, appreciates me, and loves me. <br />
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this is a post about weight.<br />
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today was the first time in almost 6 years that i looked at my wedding album. with the exception to a few good "angle shots", i refused to look at my wedding pictures for years, because i couldn't bare the way i looked in them.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Honeymoon pic. Babies. I can see Bennett in both of our faces.</span></i></div>
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the roundness of my face.<br />
the chubby cheeks.<br />
squinty eyes.<br />
huge belly.<br />
large hips.<br />
flabby arms.<br />
boobs.<br />
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today i decided that i wanted to find some of our pics to make a little wedding banner across our kitchen counter. it seemed like an economical way of celebrating, since an elaborate night out isn't practical this year.<br />
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i apprehensively grabbed the wedding album from the spare bedroom during Bennett's nap, and took a deep breath before i opened it. the first shot. bam. head on, aisle shot.<br />
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i couldn't believe it... "dang. i looked good!" i immediately texted a screen shot of it to matt captioned "remember that time i thought i was fat??? <i>#hindsight</i>." <i>i like to use hashtags in text messages. its fun.</i><br />
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<b>this isn't a post about how good i think i looked. i assure you that's not what i am getting to. </b><br />
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hindsight is a crazy thing. it can make you look back at the thing that you once dreaded, and be thankful for that same very thing. it can cause you to see the value in something that you once saw as worthless, and it can show you who you were, and how far you have come in the same breath.<br />
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when i look at that picture i can say with some maturity that <b>i was not fat</b>. <i>maybe its because i am 20lbs heavier today then i was on that day</i>, however, my 28 year old self sees the person that i was and accept that at that time in my life, weight was my biggest mental issue. it was my only "problem". it was my only concern.<br />
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when you step back and look at the big picture you realize that there is so much more to be concerned with. who you are as a person. how you treat people. the love you accept. how you are growing in maturity. <b>the external things pale in comparison. </b><br />
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the older that i get, the more my desire to be known for being outwardly beautiful fades, and my desire to be known as person with a beautiful spirit increases.<br />
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<b>i want to be a person who... </b><br />
is fearlessly real.<br />
full of questions.<br />
always learning.<br />
always drawing closer to my God.<br />
understands the importance of first impressions - and not from a physical standpoint. <br />
<b>is beautiful in spirit. </b><br />
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i want to be a person who can see other people for who they are, beyond any physical appearance. <br />
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i want to be a person that can display my wedding picture, and push aside my feelings on how i looked that day. because i know that it was one of the happiest days of my life, and that outshines any insecurities that i may have.<br />
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<br />TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-47755435991597979462013-01-12T07:25:00.001-06:002013-01-12T07:40:25.505-06:00| high five for friday |... it was so good, I made ya wait until Saturday! <i>not really, I just forgot.</i><br />
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1. bennett meets banana.<br />
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2. i rearranged my bookshelf. <br />
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3. last weekend we did some re-arranging, and added our desk to our bedroom - just until our basement is finished. i needed some place to put my stuff.<br />
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4. lots of reflection on how thankful and blessed i am to have my mama's boy.<br />
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5. baby turned 6 months this week. growing so fast. TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-43592293044304320222013-01-11T21:20:00.001-06:002013-01-11T21:21:09.066-06:00| stay or leave | it's a quiet friday. a dave matthews kind of night.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/lXOnA_gxdFo" width="315"></iframe><br />TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-73232941199417214252013-01-11T16:41:00.000-06:002013-01-11T16:44:14.077-06:00| speechless |<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Have you ever had so much to say... and can't figure out how to say it?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I spend most of my life struggling to share the thoughts and opinions in my heart and mind. It's not because I don't feel they are important or that they are of little value, but because I often don't know how to articulate them. <i>That's why they usually come out in the form of a rant, quick remark, or incoherent mumble.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">For me, this blog has been an escape. A way to get off my chest the things that circle though my brain over, and over again. I am sure that my relationships would go to new heights if our way of communicating was me - writing down everything i wanted to say - and the other person reading it, and responding verbally a few days later. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I wonder what it is that holds my tongue and renders me speechless when I want to share what's on my heart. Maybe it's fear, or the anxiety of being cut off when i speak. Maybe it is just plain nerves. Maybe it's the painful thought of hearing the words "no" or "you're wrong". Maybe it's evidence of my introverted personalty. <i>it may appear that i am extroverted by my hyper-activeness in group settings. i am not. that is a coping mechanism for me, when really, all i want to do is eat candy alone, in my room, wrapped in a blanket, and think about things... alone. </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I remember being in high school and having to do a 20 minute report on a book that I read, for my "ISU". I. Was. Purple. I was so anxious that my face started over-heating and it became visable to my classmates that I was, clearly, nervous. Dark red patches all over. It didn't matter that I had word for word notes, or that it was a pretty relaxed atmosphere. <b>There was a disconnect somewhere between the assurance of what I knew, and the articulating of it. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">There are so many times that I want to carry on a conversation, drop a word in a friends ear, or grab the mic from my husband at youth and get all spiritual <i>(shaka for those of you that run in pentecostal circles)</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> on our students... and it's as if when I go to speak, there is a hand on my throat, choking me tightly, until I can no longer breathe. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I use to believe that this was just a character trait. That some gifts were only given to certain people, and that I just wasn't blessed with the "gift of gab". On the contrary it has become evident to me over the last little while that surely I wouldn't have been given the desire, or the insight, if I wasn't suppose to share. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I can only conclude that there is a war going on, and <b>I am at battle with an unseen opponent.</b> <i>I feel like Pink and that man that she is a battle with in her music video for 'Try', minus the sexual tension. </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">The struggle of getting the words out of my body, and into something logical - even in the written form - is agonizing. <i>Every time I write a blog post my right arm starts sweating uncontrollably and I get heart palpitations :( </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">A few days ago I was reminded of Moses. A man who's story is miraculous from the giddy up. God had this pretty epic task for him - to lead the people of Israel out of slavery, and into freedom. As you can imagine, leading a large herd of people would probably require some... verbal communication. When God told Moses what he wanted him to do he begged him to pick another for the job: </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
<span class="text Exod-4-10" id="en-ESV-1612">“Oh, my Lord, I am not eloquent, either in the past or since you have spoken to your servant, but I am slow of speech and of tongue.”</span><sup> </sup><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613">Then the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> said to him, “Who has made man's mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>? Therefore go, and I will be your mouth, and teach you what to speak." Exodus 4:10-12 (ESV)</span></span></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I think it's funny that Moses had to explain his situation to God, like He didn't already know. I wonder how many times I have something that I want to share, but instead I hold back, because I think I am not capable of doing His message justice. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613">Even after God told him that He was with him, He continued the </span><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613">debate about his qualifications. </span><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613">"Oh Lord, Please send someone else."</span><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613"> So He got another to speak on his behalf. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613"> </span><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613">You would think that if you had seen God appear in a burning bush, and watched Him turn your staff into a snake, you would have the faith to believe that He could teach you what to say. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613">The thing about insecurity is that it causes us to believe that even God himself lacks the power to use us. </span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613">What would our dreams look like if we took our talents and gifts out of the equation, and only left the power of God at work in us? Who would our story reach if we stopped worrying about how we were going to send it, and remember that it has already been prepared, all we have to do is deliver it? </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">"</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613">Who has made man's mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>? Therefore go, and I will be your mouth, and teach you what to speak."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613">Lord:</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613">Use me even in the midst of my unbelief. </span><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="text Exod-4-11" id="en-ESV-1613">Come and rescue me when I feel that I cannot breathe. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Be my mouth and teacher, when I cannot find the words to speak.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<br />TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-90685041494240148072013-01-04T09:39:00.001-06:002013-01-06T22:55:20.053-06:00| high five for friday | <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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1. We got home from a great vacation in Ontario visiting family & friends --- but it was so good to get home and back into the swing of things! Bennett was happy to be back in his jolly jumper.<br />
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2. I made this poster after I was inspired by one I saw on Pinterest. Now I just need to find a frame for it! <br />
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3. Bennett started sleeping on his stomach. He sleeps through the night, which isn't new, but his naps have been getting longer - which I like!<br />
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4. Someone is moving up in the world! Traveling around town has been much nicer this week now that I don't have a crying baby the whole time! :D <br />
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5. Annnd... this week I spent sometime reflecting on our first Christmas as a family. It was great! <br />
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<br />TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-10808108816482319322013-01-01T21:41:00.003-06:002013-01-04T09:41:00.297-06:00| this year |new years. a time that always brings people back to a place of reflection on the past, and hope for the days ahead.<br />
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resolutions, new habits, fresh starts, the list of things to "make yourself better" goes on and on.<br />
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every year i want to get skinnier. become wiser. worry less. take my vitamins. read my bible. be nice to people. etc. etc. etc. if i were becoming all that i had hoped that i would be in the last year, or the one before that, i wouldn't need to resolve myself to these challenges again.<br />
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<i>i am not the problem and a resolution is not the answer. </i><br />
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you know why i want to be skinner? because i want to look good for other people. i want people to think i am attractive. because society says skinny is pretty.<span style="font-size: x-small;"> thats crap</span>. <br />
wiser? so that people will think i have my crap together.<br />
less worrisome? because it will make me believe that eventually life will be perfect and my problems obsolete.<br />
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this year i will strive to be all that He has called me to be. not who i wish i was, or what i think i should be. the good & the bad. the wise and the unknowing. i am taking it all, and i longing to live my life with the present moment at the forefront of my mind. <br />
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i will exercise because it makes me feel good. it gives me energy and i like to do it. some days i won't because all i will want to do is lay in bed and eat penny candies until i throw up. i've been doing that all my life. it's not going to stop now.<br />
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i will read my bible and take in all that it has for me. some days i will be reaching to find one thing that "hits home". somedays i won't even open it because something else will catch my attention, and i will find it boring. i am human. <br />
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i will control my worries and fears and know that my story is in the hands of Writer, but there will be times when i forget and convince myself that my story ends at the fall, and forget about the redemption.<br />
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i will remember that i am here because i have been blessed, and i am called to be a blessing to others. i will live with no regrets. i will forget the past and think more about the future. i will strive to live each day with joy and progress. i will stop living within the confines of who i think i should be.<br />
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and i will do it all with a smile on my face <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(</span>at least i will try, because my husband says i always walk around with "piss mist<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">" and i usually dont even know it</span>) </span></i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">and peace in my heart. knowing that my life is <span style="font-size: small;">not <span style="font-size: small;">based on a series of <span style="font-size: small;">res<span style="font-size: small;">olutions, b<span style="font-size: small;">ut <span style="font-size: small;">rather moments that form days, an<span style="font-size: small;">d eventually years. that the journey is the destination and that wh<span style="font-size: small;">ere i am n<span style="font-size: small;">ow is not where i will alwa<span style="font-size: small;">ys be. th<span style="font-size: small;">at i am worthy and so are my dreams. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">i wil<span style="font-size: small;">l do it knowing </span>that i can have p<span style="font-size: small;">eace with <span style="font-size: small;">who i am, and <span style="font-size: small;">erase the list of re<span style="font-size: small;">solution<span style="font-size: small;">s to <span style="font-size: small;">become <span style="font-size: small;">a better me. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-73720610564103789722012-12-31T10:43:00.000-06:002012-12-31T10:43:48.033-06:00| #hashtags | #Best2012Memories<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdbrlVlqLZSukwAhk27Pig4oAPVQrE6gBmOSW_YNjkRGu-jjs4_8v27oGMVQNakTz9um5R8uVfBxyMNq1TBFmRe0d_OzIXQZGHW6QwxFEL8bGYEYlHu-JakplWAEpc7hw8aY7nPoLXwo/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdbrlVlqLZSukwAhk27Pig4oAPVQrE6gBmOSW_YNjkRGu-jjs4_8v27oGMVQNakTz9um5R8uVfBxyMNq1TBFmRe0d_OzIXQZGHW6QwxFEL8bGYEYlHu-JakplWAEpc7hw8aY7nPoLXwo/s320/photo.JPG" width="318" /></a></div>
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- Bennett is born. July 8 2012. 7.6oz. 21 inches. 9:08pm.<br />
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- My last day of work before a year of mat leave. I was so tired.<br />
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- Going home in August to see family & introduce Bennett. Stressful, exhausting, and so worth it!<br />
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- Christmas.<br />
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- Blogging again<br />
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- Singing on worship team. It felt good to do what I enjoy, and push me to deal with anxiety issues! <br />
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- Injecting people with dental anesthetic. I know, weird. It was kind of a big deal for me.<br />
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- Christmas shopping spree with my dental office. Such an awesome surprise. So thoughtful.<br />
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- Using my crock-pot.<br />
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- Being a part of the 'big move' to our new church building. Such an awesome privilege to be able to minister with a great facility. I know it's not about the building... but it does make a lot of things easier!<br />
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- Reuniting with my BFF. Getting to see her beautiful home. Going out for dinner. Cruising around her city. It was all good.<br />
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- Self reflection. Recognizing personal growth. Growing up. Realizing what matters. Understanding where I need to grow. Enjoying the moment.TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-3258835797996571062012-12-14T08:42:00.002-06:002012-12-14T08:42:52.579-06:00| high five for friday | <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlVg7RxMlJRnbfuBUYFSHcmNsgFTGZTRU2iHvKYOlgZO0kd6aqHL5V_28fmbfE09Z3SABHSXLEQ5WD5kD4aOiC-Oq7vSXvBOd-Y-zSlba4Ma8pkXLt1zGD2OQ_Of1K70EXF7Bwjuj9PU/s1600/FridayDec14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlVg7RxMlJRnbfuBUYFSHcmNsgFTGZTRU2iHvKYOlgZO0kd6aqHL5V_28fmbfE09Z3SABHSXLEQ5WD5kD4aOiC-Oq7vSXvBOd-Y-zSlba4Ma8pkXLt1zGD2OQ_Of1K70EXF7Bwjuj9PU/s400/FridayDec14.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div>
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1. Another youth formal come and gone! It was a great night. Love our youth group, and all of our leaders. We are so blessed. </div>
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2. This is the first year that I have prepared a CHRISTMAS CARD. It may be because Bennett is here, or it could be because I am addicted to Pinterest. But this year, I thought it was neccessary to have a Christmas card. I was going to have a professional pic taken of him, and one of us as a family, but it just wasn't in the finances this year - so I made my own. Once he stopped gnawing on the live wires, and looked up at the camera I managed to get a good shot! I winged it in photoshop, and came up with this. It works! </div>
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3. I decided to go through some boxes of clothes in the basement - because I have been buying stuff from Value Village since I found out I was having a boy. I found a whole box of 6-12 month old stuff, which is awesome because all of B's shirts were too short in the arms! </div>
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4. We got to hang out with some friends this week, and played Pictionary. It was so much fun, even for the 2/4 of us that despise playing games. </div>
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5. Baby leg warmers. On my wish list. Ridiculously priced - so we made our own. It's amazing the variety of socks they have at Dollarama. I was just there quickly picking up some paint, and bought a few pairs on a whim, with the hopes that my vision would become reality. </div>
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<a href="http://www.frommygreydeskblog.com/2012/01/high-five-for-friday-button.html"><img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i1216.photobucket.com/albums/dd361/lauren_FMGD/H54Fbutton.jpg" /></a> </div>
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<br />TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-39641776583855658112012-12-13T13:07:00.004-06:002012-12-13T13:07:54.171-06:00| merry christmas | <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg035tkYmd-fy6UF5-q_O09X_m-PlZby59EJ9_wHAmLsfT0YTTJVvCcc437Y05ydAz7xjvwaSWftIUMnW-0K28Np8fPDlCZDanpRgjTmgsvZmRQmKKCpyzmU586uy-B-7DXqTNYsOOknD0/s1600/newsize.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg035tkYmd-fy6UF5-q_O09X_m-PlZby59EJ9_wHAmLsfT0YTTJVvCcc437Y05ydAz7xjvwaSWftIUMnW-0K28Np8fPDlCZDanpRgjTmgsvZmRQmKKCpyzmU586uy-B-7DXqTNYsOOknD0/s400/newsize.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">This is our first family Christmas card! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">| Merry Christmas 2012 |</span></div>
TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-45025296011373832962012-12-13T00:03:00.000-06:002012-12-13T11:58:41.042-06:00| confessions of a child star | when i was 13 i played the role of a 1940's (?) celebrity, who had lost her joy, in a kid's christmas play. <span style="font-size: xx-small;">it was the highlight of my adolescent life. hence the reason why i refer to myself a<span style="font-size: xx-small;">s a CHILD STAR! </span></span><br />
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i remember thinking back then, how could ANYONE ever be sad at Christmas? presents! food! stockings! family! presents! things! oooo. needless to say, i had a hard time "identifying" with my character. <br />
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15 years later, and I can understand why that precious soul, Angel O'Hare, had lost her joy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR9KTtRIkchCK-O7aIVuiS4NoBH7PE4fxsRqf6mBNmdF15BbOx8IxhUy4ls36ZAbpMm4mbpJOAtJtPGUlTJCRKNPG8UTuuF4JWpOaNjoxVfcriR0bKuRkfdrimsfeDwLuTNI5h6gikEPY/s1600/207567_10150563256875253_4176327_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR9KTtRIkchCK-O7aIVuiS4NoBH7PE4fxsRqf6mBNmdF15BbOx8IxhUy4ls36ZAbpMm4mbpJOAtJtPGUlTJCRKNPG8UTuuF4JWpOaNjoxVfcriR0bKuRkfdrimsfeDwLuTNI5h6gikEPY/s400/207567_10150563256875253_4176327_n.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> this is one of my favourite pics. </span></i></div>
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I hate to admit it, but two years ago, i cried because my stocking wasn't good enough. it wasn't neccessarily because i didn't like what Matt put in it <span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(although the candy necklace was kin</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">d of an odd choice) </span><span style="font-size: small;">It was the order in which he placed them in the stocking. He put the bes<span style="font-size: small;">t thing first, cau<span style="font-size: small;">sing the rest of the <span style="font-size: small;">items to pal<span style="font-size: small;">e i<span style="font-size: small;">n comparison. <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">i </span>wish i were kidding.<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> this was 2 years ago, and i feel i have really grown since then, so don't judge me. </i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<i><b><span style="font-size: small;">when you lose your joy<span style="font-size: small;">, it doesn't matter what is given to you, it is n<span style="font-size: small;">ever good enough. </span></span></span></b></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">i wish i could say this is a pos<span style="font-size: small;">t about los<span style="font-size: small;">ing your joy at christmas... but it's so much more then that. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">for year<span style="font-size: small;">s<span style="font-size: small;"> - as long a<span style="font-size: small;">s i<span style="font-size: small;"> could remember<span style="font-size: small;">, really </span>- i have strug<span style="font-size: small;">gled with comparison. <span style="font-size: small;">i thought i would </span>find my joy in feeli<span style="font-size: small;">ng that i was superior... <span style="font-size: small;">goo<span style="font-size: small;">d enough</span></span>... worthy. i tho<span style="font-size: small;">ught i would <span style="font-size: small;">be happy when everything on my <span style="font-size: small;">list had a check mark next to it. </span></span></span>over the la<span style="font-size: small;">st year i have <span style="font-size: small;">learned that joy is so <span style="font-size: small;">much more then being hap<span style="font-size: small;">py and comf<span style="font-size: small;">ortable. it's about an internal enlightenment, that reflects in everything we face, and<span style="font-size: small;"> do. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrG_DUuNVQGc3SDUXdMeAI7Drs9HabYAjJUbBNhNQjcYh2_j7k6UAIMKMDYJ3HWZvp2XSekdlvx4oO2Vk7KNJQmKsWS4ShZ4sYXuUz8VdigkvTy3R56NDNj_hGXti1bZZ-Mdx042IVtLw/s1600/68358_517804368248465_1365692880_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrG_DUuNVQGc3SDUXdMeAI7Drs9HabYAjJUbBNhNQjcYh2_j7k6UAIMKMDYJ3HWZvp2XSekdlvx4oO2Vk7KNJQmKsWS4ShZ4sYXuUz8VdigkvTy3R56NDNj_hGXti1bZZ-Mdx042IVtLw/s400/68358_517804368248465_1365692880_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> upon searching for a few mean mugged pics of myself, it turns out this is a repeat offender. </span></i></div>
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<u><b><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">true j<span style="font-size: small;">oy: </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></b></u><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">doesn't need <span style="font-size: small;">a perfect circumstance, it <span style="font-size: small;">can be<span style="font-size: small;"> found in all seasons<span style="font-size: small;">. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">rejoices with th<span style="font-size: small;">ose that</span> rej<span style="font-size: small;">oice<span style="font-size: small;">. it is so important to be happy for other people. <span style="font-size: small;">i<span style="font-size: small;"> am discovering that i<span style="font-size: small;"> am happ<span style="font-size: small;">iest when i am <i>genuinely</i> happy for those around me. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">doesn't <span style="font-size: small;">need "stuff" to be complete<span style="font-size: small;">. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">u</span>nderstands</span> that just becaus<span style="font-size: small;">e my life is different, it doesn't mean it's not great. <span style="font-size: x-small;">because when we compare ourselves to others, you can almost always find something to be envious of. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">i<span style="font-size: small;">sn't a momentary emotion. its a constant condition of the heart<span style="font-size: small;">. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">is<span style="font-size: small;"> rare, and something to be sought after. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">the older i<span style="font-size: small;"> get the more i just want to be <span style="font-size: small;">a person who is joyful</span>. <span style="font-size: small;">i hat<span style="font-size: small;">e the struggle, <span style="font-size: small;">the internal fight<span style="font-size: small;">. it takes so much ene<span style="font-size: small;">rgy to keep <span style="font-size: small;">a happy face, when you are internally miserable. and <span style="font-size: small;">it's so not worth it. i hate to think of all the burned bridges, lost friendships, and h<span style="font-size: small;">orri<span style="font-size: small;">ble </span></span>first imp<span style="font-size: small;">ressions i have made. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">for so<span style="font-size: small;"> long<span style="font-size: small;"> i believe that a bitter, sarcastic,<span style="font-size: small;"> and opinionated <span style="font-size: small;">presence<span style="font-size: small;"> meant i was unbreakable. i thought that it was something to be envied<span style="font-size: small;">, and that people would realize that if i was nice to them, they were special. <span style="font-size: x-small;">how sick in the <span style="font-size: x-small;">head</span> is that?</span></span> <span style="font-size: small;">the truth is is <span style="font-size: small;">that </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><i><b>joy speaks </b></i><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>loud</b></i><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>er then bitterness EVER will.<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">t</span>he people ar<span style="font-size: small;">ound you can always see through <span style="font-size: small;">your <span style="font-size: small;">mask. </span></span></span></span></b></i></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZZhKHJv8XpIzOOkCw7Hr2bPk-kMVjRNFflDKCL4tjLjr387u1w04ktP4rlfuEquD-iudEYoh2QVUfpWPlU4eusdITg_E6xHmBah34vB_OHN-3Z7MsyRc1W_XoeEO94w_b5DdS0nffpkQ/s1600/180727_10150403749985253_1776096_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZZhKHJv8XpIzOOkCw7Hr2bPk-kMVjRNFflDKCL4tjLjr387u1w04ktP4rlfuEquD-iudEYoh2QVUfpWPlU4eusdITg_E6xHmBah34vB_OHN-3Z7MsyRc1W_XoeEO94w_b5DdS0nffpkQ/s400/180727_10150403749985253_1776096_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">i am so thankful that God is constantly chipping away<span style="font-size: small;"> at<span style="font-size: small;"> me<span style="font-size: small;">. little b<span style="font-size: small;">y little. forming <span style="font-size: small;">me into the woman that he has calle<span style="font-size: small;">d me to be. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>in these last few days<span style="font-size: small;"> i have been thinking about all of the things that <span style="font-size: small;">i want and need in<span style="font-size: small;"> order to be happy, i <span style="font-size: small;">have d<span style="font-size: small;">iscovered that this may be the first time in my life that my list is full of things <span style="font-size: small;">other then jeans, perfume,<span style="font-size: small;"> gift cards, etc.<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">i am desiring a <span style="font-size: small;">joyful home, a great marriage, deeper friendships, more wisdom<span style="font-size: small;">,</span> greater insight, a heart <span style="font-size: small;">that longs to minister to <span style="font-size: small;">others, less anxiety, more peace, <span style="font-size: small;">less pride, <span style="font-size: small;">a humble heart, restored relationships, <span style="font-size: small;">more honesty<span style="font-size: small;">, the abi<span style="font-size: small;">lity to be real<span style="font-size: small;">! </span></span></span>and the list goes on. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">the <span style="font-size: small;">great thing <span style="font-size: small;">about God is that it doesn't matter how many times i act like an idiot - <span style="font-size: small;">He always forgives, and <span style="font-size: small;">He is the God of the second (and third, and fourth...) chance. he sees my heart, and where i have been<span style="font-size: small;">, and<span style="font-size: small;"> he gently guides me into the path that i am sometimes unknowingly longing for. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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i am so glad that this year i have realized that what my heart is longing for is anything but stuff. it is longing for the things that his hand has been guiding me to, for years: <br />
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completeness.<br />
fullness.<br />
contentment.<br />
<i><b>joy. </b></i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdoeDqj8jmrjZGmD9wdWURkB7zEasp-GtazR7S7-jgksFN0okjdQshY5XIaikFl_ytoLuJSU9e_ISjfLA7MNi3kDvETQuGm19HKklsePwjxto5raIJS9gxMgotIuBVQpMkdxAFw0Ws07I/s1600/IMG_3521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdoeDqj8jmrjZGmD9wdWURkB7zEasp-GtazR7S7-jgksFN0okjdQshY5XIaikFl_ytoLuJSU9e_ISjfLA7MNi3kDvETQuGm19HKklsePwjxto5raIJS9gxMgotIuBVQpMkdxAFw0Ws07I/s400/IMG_3521.JPG" width="297" /> </a> </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>i couldn't find a picture of me dressed up as Angel O'Hare - but I did find this grade 8 gem. that's me in the middle. the one that looks like zac hanson. </i></span></div>
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TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-41035530106807134742012-12-12T20:24:00.001-06:002012-12-12T20:26:14.857-06:00| why i'm not doing the december joy dare anymore | ... because it's become too taxing, and a not so JOYFUL experience (pun INTENDED) for me. also, i feel too guilty when i don't do them. so it's time to stop. i will be thankful on a daily basis, without documenting (daily).<br />
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it's really that simple.<br />
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<br />TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-16663899740161117332012-12-11T22:37:00.000-06:002012-12-11T22:37:07.438-06:00| december joy dare | 11/31<u><i><b>three gifts ice cold: </b></i></u><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4oNy4vRfbdd7sgW1Dkqmn71MW7_2ztFX-5jKuafZ7VsGHHVExd6P67l6vsvPVhrJFR-IEr_Ah2qSBerYz2LRI0aBgtpe205fMYqf5mIDWCQAFSxN9iIDFaC4B0pIHCfJVcZdhBQDfD4/s1600/ICECOLD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4oNy4vRfbdd7sgW1Dkqmn71MW7_2ztFX-5jKuafZ7VsGHHVExd6P67l6vsvPVhrJFR-IEr_Ah2qSBerYz2LRI0aBgtpe205fMYqf5mIDWCQAFSxN9iIDFaC4B0pIHCfJVcZdhBQDfD4/s400/ICECOLD.jpg" width="196" /> </a></div>
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<i><b>1. my daily coffee: </b></i>it's usually freezing by the time i drink it, but it's still a gift to me! </div>
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<i><b>2. saskatoon wind:</b></i> although it freezes the nostril hairs, it is refreshing, and i like getting some fresh air once in a while. especially DRY air. </div>
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<i><b>3. ice cold milk: </b></i>especially in my cereal. nom! </div>
<br />TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-26949917090637259942012-12-11T22:32:00.000-06:002012-12-11T22:32:03.323-06:00| #hashtags. | <u><b>#TodaysTop10 </b></u><br />
<i>in no particular order: </i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOUdVMtI1am-v96CxfvZP5zhKlff8Rie5lD8yiUXybVbHSHl-TkxgEpVRwA5-F2txqEUvxGLGB1ondOXY_47_GDpE8LhN4hSmd8CBhhXe22XNR3tkJWnoGdYu9Zrx_5Xd5iaeDvLVmao/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOUdVMtI1am-v96CxfvZP5zhKlff8Rie5lD8yiUXybVbHSHl-TkxgEpVRwA5-F2txqEUvxGLGB1ondOXY_47_GDpE8LhN4hSmd8CBhhXe22XNR3tkJWnoGdYu9Zrx_5Xd5iaeDvLVmao/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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1. making baby leg warmers, and he liked them!<br />
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2. conquering a mountain of laundry<br />
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3. finding a box of 6-12 month old clothes in the basement, for Bennett.<br />
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4. a great text chat with my social media pen pal, @mrsgorsky - i needed that!<br />
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5. devouring some delicious spaghetti for dinner<br />
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6. ice cream<br />
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7. 20 minute cat nap<br />
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8. my friend calling and saying "tell me not to gossip... " i say, "don't gossip" she says "ok, so the other day..." :| made me laugh. probably shouldn't. but whatever. <br />
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9. Bennett's new favourite thing to do? burrow his head in my neck and giggle. SO CUTE.<br />
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10. starting the packing process for Ontario! TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-21611779138920340052012-12-11T22:22:00.002-06:002012-12-11T22:22:36.137-06:00| december joy dare | 10/31<u><b><i>three gifts unframed art: </i></b></u><br />
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i randomly started doing the posters for our youth ministry a few years ago, and it has become a nice creative outlet for me. i am by no means profesh... but, i enjoy it, and Matt keeps asking me to do it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn96jERGqxUWMbrnSkjPdEZ2xjGaaoNkyYpPkC1pI2g4HbiZPlenrOIu3ZhJDIcuxGqXbQSjPq4A6dg5WpGDiuyo1LPw3k3x08EgfBMAiUjyhXxXPh756czTBmrxLAMB5eBH33-hVjXTQ/s1600/ELEVATE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn96jERGqxUWMbrnSkjPdEZ2xjGaaoNkyYpPkC1pI2g4HbiZPlenrOIu3ZhJDIcuxGqXbQSjPq4A6dg5WpGDiuyo1LPw3k3x08EgfBMAiUjyhXxXPh756czTBmrxLAMB5eBH33-hVjXTQ/s400/ELEVATE.jpg" width="196" /></a></div>
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<i><b>1. e68 jr high</b></i><br />
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<i><b>2. relentless young adult conference</b></i><br />
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<i><b>3. elevate fall events </b></i><br />
<br />TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3008660099726024761.post-57231703192611710522012-12-11T22:05:00.005-06:002012-12-11T22:05:53.702-06:00| december joy dare | 9/31<u><i><b>three gifts ugly beautiful:</b></i></u><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-ejsMbHQrMLZq7BPXyoU91O2uPTn-SnT-3R6UTLrImzhxoizFhW9rONNvF907RGWj87LF7fCPmOs_noXBjgX8qz79P3c6aDlcOBBjchbvImPftgQZoC8xEcLPDB8NUC9lVRMBhGcm2E/s1600/uB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-ejsMbHQrMLZq7BPXyoU91O2uPTn-SnT-3R6UTLrImzhxoizFhW9rONNvF907RGWj87LF7fCPmOs_noXBjgX8qz79P3c6aDlcOBBjchbvImPftgQZoC8xEcLPDB8NUC9lVRMBhGcm2E/s400/uB.jpg" width="196" /></a></div>
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<i><b>1. a mess:</b></i> there is freedom in not sweating over having a perfectly clean house. i use to do it all the time. i am learning that my rest is just as important as being organized. sometimes i just need to go to bed in the midst of a disaster.<br />
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<i><b>2. the birthing process:</b></i> what can i say... i have never felt so ugly and so beautiful at the same time!<br />
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<i><b>3. ugly faces:</b></i> this is mine and my cousins fave thing to do together. i love how even her "ugly" faces are still so beautiful! xo TaiganRBombayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06814584944242933846noreply@blogger.com0