tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41944566364920348322024-03-05T08:16:25.063-08:00Abide With MeI am a Child of the King who desires to share how God is ever-present in my life and He delights in showing me mercy and blesses me more than I deserve.Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-46038863890798695032014-11-07T09:48:00.002-08:002014-11-07T09:48:39.772-08:00A Nice Quiet Shower, PleaseThis mommy just wants a shower. <br />A nice quiet, hot shower. With no interruptions. <br /><br />Since I have two kiddos, a quiet, long shower is a thing of the past. I just can't seem to find a solution. <br />Here's what I've tried. <br /><br /><br />1. Both kids sleeping. <br />Doesn't work. One of them will wake up. Always. <br /><br />2. Sister in her bed (a mini-crib) and Jud roaming. <br />Doesn't work. Jud throws things in her bed that she can "play" with...daddy's shoes, a clothespin, all of his blankets and snuggies, his vacuum cleaner, all of his diapers. <br /><br />3. Jud in his bed and sister in her bed. <br />Doesn't work. He tosses things at her. And if you don't put things in his bed to play with, he'll shake his bed, yell and bang on the wall. We have neighbors. I'm pretty sure they don't like us. <br /><br />4. Jud roaming and sister in the travel cot. <br />Doesn't work. He will still "give" her things to play with. She will still cry. He will still be disciplined. <br /><br />5. Jud in the travel cot. <br />He climbs out. <br />6. Jud roaming and sister in HIS bed. (he has a regular size crib and it's harder to get to her...I thought.) <br />I thought this was the best idea since sliced bread. I got a 10 minute shower before I had to get out and discipline a little boy for shoving things through the rungs and tossing them as high as he could to get them in the bed. She had every pacifier we own, but she didn't seem appreciative. Not to mention, when I told him to just come in the bathroom with mommy, he took that to mean, get mommy's shoes and put them under the running water. <br /><br /><br />All of these suggestions also include stopping to discipline a little boy. He doesn't get to do these things and get away with them. But he sure can come up with lots of ideas on how to get mommy's attention. <br />-flush the toilet...over and over and over<br />-unroll the toilet paper<br />-carry around the plunger and toilet brush...maybe give it to sister<br />
-gather up all the rugs and put them in the closet<br />
-somehow reach the tooth brushes and put them in the trash<br />
-take all the dirty clothes out of the hamper and throw them around in the bathroom<br />
-empty the trashcan...in the tub<br />
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<br />Sometimes I wonder if it's just my child. Sometimes I wonder if I was the same way. <br /><br />Any ideas to help? <br />Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-60959905534777649612014-10-28T13:26:00.003-07:002014-10-28T13:26:04.694-07:00I'm Ba-a-a-a-a-ack!<br />For those of you who cared/read my blog/are interested, I've decided to take up blogging again. Because I have all this free time now. <br /><br />BAH-hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!<br />*breath*<br />Ah-hahahahahahahahaha!<br /><br />Seriously. I have no free time. And since you're dying to know, I'll tell you why. <br /><br />I got married 2 1/2 years ago. <br />Moved to Texas. <br />Then I had a baby boy 1 1/2 years ago.<br />And then I had a baby girl 6 months ago. <br /><br />Most of my day consists of holding babies, changing babies, feeding babies, trying to get babies asleep, disciplining babies (more on that later), and every now and then cleaning house or taking a shower. <br />I love every minute of my life. Even the hard times. Even the sleepless nights. Even the long days. But God has taught me so much! These are just a few things I've learned in almost 3 years. <br /><br />1. A woman needs a husband that is so different from her that he actually compliments the areas that she fails/lacks in. It seems that we (women) are often attracted to men that are very much like you in personality, likes, etc. At least, that's how it was for me. Instead, I'm finding more and more that my husband fills the areas that I lack in the most. I could write a whole blog on our differences. I might just do that. <br /><br />2. I <i>can</i> live away from my family, church, work and friends that I've known my whole life. I thought I would be lonely and have nothing to do all day. And God gave me a wonderful church, lots of hospitable, caring friends and two babies to keep me busier than I've ever been. <br /><br />3. I've got to have a 3rd point. Kind of like all good sermons have 3 points and a poem, right? <br />I am selfish. I always thought that I was pretty giving. Always available to help a friend out, watch some kids, give a mom a break, clean, cook, build something, etc. But since I've become a mom, I realize that I'm pretty selfish about things I want/need to do. It's hard to remember that the dishes will still be there when a boy needs you to read him a book. It's hard to stop in the middle of ironing to play with someone. It's hard to forget about that shower when your baby just want to be held. <br />I'm nurturing a soul and the most important thing, right now, is caring for these kids and raising them to love the Lord with all their heart, mind and strength. How can I get upset about dishes and clothes when I just have a short time with these babies? That's something I'm working on. Remembering that <i>I</i> can wait. I'll never get this time back with them. <br /><br /><br />Have I mentioned that I love my life? I do. I really wouldn't want it any other way.<br /><br />So here's the restart of my blog. A jumbled mess of thoughts because that's my life right now. Jumbled, but beautiful. Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-22347978329566355192012-10-31T09:29:00.002-07:002012-10-31T09:29:45.696-07:00Contentment<strong>I was catching up on some friends' blogs, wondering why <em>they</em> haven't updated since 2010 (?!). And then it hit me. <em>I</em> haven't updated <em>my</em> blog since 2010. And a lot has happened since then!</strong><br />
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<strong>It wasn't long after my last blog that The Institute For Creation Research came to Birmingham for a Creation conference...and one of their speakers came to our church to speak as well. <br /><br />I married him. And we're expecting our first child. :)</strong><br />
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<strong>Thinking back on the last few years got me thinking even further back to my single years. <br /><br />It seemed so hard being single at first, especially when you're barely into your 20's.<br />-You go out with all your friends thinking they might have a mutual friend that's "the one". <br />-You find time in the week to go to singles groups with other churches. Some are good...some are meat markets...I've got stories. <br />-You sign up online. Despite that sickening feeling in your stomach that this just does not seem right for me, and boy, do I look desperate. (that ended before it hardly started)<br />-Family and friends are always trying to set you up, saying things like: <br /> "His mother says that he's such a sweet guy!"<br /> "He has a great personality."</strong><br />
<strong> "I've only met him a few times, but he <em>seems</em> nice."<br /> "I don't think he's related to us?"<br /><br />Regardless, one or all of those ways may have worked out for you or for someone you know, but not for me. Something changed (though I can't tell you exactly when). Some would say that I gave up. Others said that I wasn't trying enough. But I can tell you what really happened. </strong><br />
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<strong>I decided to pray about it in a different way. Instead of practically begging God to send me someone, why not align myself with His will and use my single life to serve Him? I had such a desire to be a wife and mother, but if that wasn't what God would have for my life how do I pray? <br /><br />So I prayed one of the hardest prayers I've ever had to pray. I asked the Lord to take away that desire to be wife/mother if that wasn't His will for me. I still remember how very, VERY hard that was. <br /> The first time I prayed that, I immediately took it back. Kind of like a "not really"..."I didn't mean it".<br /> The second time...same thing, making sure that I didn't actually pray it out loud. For some reason out loud seems more real.</strong><br />
<strong> But the more I prayed the more I knew that I had to give over <em>my </em>desires and ask God what <em>He</em> would have for me. And it got easier. <br /><br />I can't explain the contentment I felt. Knowing that I was free from trying to make work what I wanted to work and instead, letting Him do a work in me--so sweet! <br /><br />And what's even sweeter is that God never took that desire from me. I still had it. It just wasn't always on my mind. <br /><br />I suppose you're thinking that it's easy for me to say all this now that I'm married and expecting. I can truthfully say that it was easy for me to say when I typed my last blog. So many just assume you aren't content and <em>can't</em> be content unless you're married. But I know better. </strong><br />
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<strong>It still frustrates me to hear 18, 20, 22 year olds saying that they'll <em>never </em>get married. Ever. So dramatic. <br />But I try to remember those days and how hard it was. When you've found contentment and peace in God and His will, those days are kind of a blur, you know. </strong><br />
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<strong>I encourage you, dear single friend. Give over <em>your</em> desires and be used. It's a sweet, sweet time.<br /><br /><br />And I'll try...really hard...to keep up on my blogging. :)</strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-43422746105173372842010-08-14T10:00:00.000-07:002010-08-14T14:28:27.765-07:00Our Sweet Chet<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-EgDCSFwpamRKGmNbLqS3SUepGIHIdpOzUpFfM-nKfcsRBYJkXpoEqbJ2tFzgF-RDg6ybxu2fjJi0fvcgqyLY6gdfiZZzfTqnj9Hx7CuaADhkrdskj3S8pMnCFVrWnz-v0i7BKmhWkLnO/s1600/IMG_1140+recropped.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 153px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505311789430724994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-EgDCSFwpamRKGmNbLqS3SUepGIHIdpOzUpFfM-nKfcsRBYJkXpoEqbJ2tFzgF-RDg6ybxu2fjJi0fvcgqyLY6gdfiZZzfTqnj9Hx7CuaADhkrdskj3S8pMnCFVrWnz-v0i7BKmhWkLnO/s200/IMG_1140+recropped.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><strong>Chet Wood has gone on to her reward. She was one of the spunkiest women I've met, but she loved her Lord, her family and politics...in that order. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>She and her husband had a calling on their lives to spread the Gospel through a tape ministry and that they did well. The Gospel has been spread, through the messages on tape, throughout this country and who knows how many others. She made sure that if there was a good message preached that she had it on tape to share with others. </strong><br /><strong>I have fond memories of her signing my name up for a message preached when I wasn't there and hunting me down to personally give me my tape. I laugh when I think about how she and Bug would take up the paper that you could sign up for before Bill (another saint gone on to glory) could get back there to sign his name and he would run after them to make sure his name was on there. It got to be a competition to see who could get to that paper first for them. I miss those three. </strong><br /><br /><strong>She never hesitated to pray for her family and to ask for prayer if there was a need. She loved her daughter and son. She loved her grandchildren. It was obvious. </strong><br /><strong>She loved her church family too and they loved her right back. You couldn't help it. There wasn't a Sunday that she didn't hug my neck and kiss my face. I would look for her just to get that hug and kiss. Even when I helped cut their grass, I would still get a hug and kiss...no matter how dirty I was. </strong><br /><strong>I can vividly remember her looking up at our pastor, placing her hand on his face and thanking him for the message. She did that often. Oh, how she loved the men of God who brought the Word! Not just our current pastor but even our founding pastor. When he would visit she never failed to tell him how much he meant to her.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>She also loved politics, good politics. She spent countless hours searching for men of God who desired to bring the country back to a nation built on the Word of God. She prayed for them and sent out email after email to all of us letting us know who these men were.</strong><br /><strong>I remember coming to her house to cut her yard one summer day and there she was, outside with a man who looked a bit uncomfortable. He was going door to door "politicing" (as she would say) and didn't know that Ms Chet knew her stuff and she was giving him all she had, encouraging him to run for office and do what was right in the eyes of the Lord. Bug had long since gone back in the house because Chet had it handled. That poor guy looked ready to leave but she wasn't through with him. I think he was never glad to see people cutting a yard as much as he did that day. I just pray that her words of wisdom to that lost soul was a seed planted. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>But that's what we have now. Just memories until one day when we too can see our Saviour face to face. Chet longed for this day. She would say "I can't wait to get to heaven to see my Saviour and be reunited with my Bug." She loved her husband but she loved her Saviour more. What a Godly woman we had in our midst and I'll miss her. Oh, how I miss her. But I wouldn't wish her back for one instant and will patiently wait the day when I too will see my Saviour and be reunited with those I love. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Chet Wood was Godly, classy and absolutely lovely. I love you, Ms Chet. Until we meet again...</strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-60147274750102817872010-08-08T18:02:00.000-07:002010-08-13T17:35:46.520-07:00What Does It Mean To Be Saturated In The Word?<strong>Is it just to read your Bible every day? </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Is it to memorize familiar verses? </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Is praying on occasion enough?</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Or....</strong><br /><br /><strong>is it to be so full of the Word that it consumes my thoughts, pours out of my mouth, overflows into my actions and interrupts my daily duties on this earth.<br />How can I feel the love of God "underneath me, all around me" if I don't study the only book that points me to that love? How can I have hope if I'm not grabbing at the only book that offers hope? How can I have joy if I don't read the book that shows me Who died to give me that joy? </strong><br /><br /><strong></strong><br /><br /><strong></strong><br /><br /><strong>Lord, may I yearn to be in Your Word. Saturated, so that Your love, hope, joy pours out to those around me. </strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-63088141542639780172010-05-14T20:01:00.000-07:002010-08-08T18:02:04.757-07:00Motorized Mania<strong>So I go to Walmart every so often. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Fine. I go like 2-3 times a week. I have needs. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I'm starting to see a trend when it comes to the motorized carts that they provide for the HANDICAP, ILL, ELDERLY. (I placed them in large letters in case you misunderstood the purpose of the carts.)</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>They are for those who can't walk, or can't walk for long distances. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>They are not for:</strong><br /><strong>-racing</strong><br /><strong>-pregnant women </strong><br /><strong>-teenagers or anyone who cannot drive a car, buy cigarettes/alcohol or even vote. </strong><br /><strong>-convenience because you've had a hard day at work and don't feel like walking.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>As I walked through the store just a few weeks ago, I was <em>literally </em>nearly run down by one of those carts. She barely missed me. The driver...a girl who couldn't even have been even 14 years old. I gave her my standard dirty look of "Hey. Watch where your goin' chick!" and went on my way. </strong><br /><br /><strong>I round another corner, and she comes flying by AGAIN and almost hits me AGAIN. </strong><br /><br /><strong>Unfortunately, I speak before I think. A lot. So I said, "I have a feeling that you don't really need to be on that thing. Are you disabled? Does your mother know your driving around here like that? What if you hit a child? You need to get off that and I mean now."</strong><br /><br /><strong>She smiles at me with such a sickeningly "I don't care what you think" smile and flies off. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>Since I spoke so kindly to her, she went to tell her mother...who was also riding a cart AND her younger brother, who brought up the rear on his. They followed me all. over. the store thinking they intimidated me, I guess. I did mention to the young girl that I was going to find a manager since she obviously had no disability except disrespect and laziness. Not one manager was to be found! How convenient. *insert sarcasm* </strong><br /><br /><br /><strong>I don't know if you can tell, but this really gets my goat. Three motorized carts driven by three inconsiderate people who couldn't care less that someone might really need one. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>What is this world coming to?!</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>And then to top it off!...we saw a pregnant lady riding on one today. She happened to be our patient, so I know for a fact that she did NOT have any disabilitating issues and she wasn't even close to term. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Call me naive and misinformed, but the last I checked carrying an unborn child did not deem you disabled. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>The moral of this bog...don't ride unless you got a reason. Period. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I will call you out. </strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-57657044560956222172010-04-08T19:56:00.000-07:002010-05-14T19:56:34.836-07:00The Key<strong>Hello blog. It's been a while.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />A lot has been going on in this past year, but what weighs heaviest on my mind is the diagnosis of cancer, metastisized cancer, in my dear pastor's wife.<br />Not only is Colleen my pastor's wife, but she's my long-time friend. A woman that is very much like my sister/aunt and has been for most of my life...long before she was my "pastor's wife". I knew her newly married, when kids where just a prayer on her lips. I saw her in the hospital with each of her four girls. I have cried and laughed along with her. I knew her when holidays were exciting because "Mark and Colleen were coming over!". She was family to us, to me. She still is.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />But I struggled with the diagnosis of metastisized cancer. And I had no idea the range of emotions I would experience, or the lessons I would learn/be learning.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></strong><br /><strong>For me, it started with shock. You just don't know what to think, when to think.You don't know how to pray. I told myself that I was acceptant of God's will but these little spurts doubt kept creeping in. It wasn't long before I started getting angry whenever I would talk about it or think about it or pray about it. But I couldn't figure out who I was angry at, or why.<br /><br />There was no way I was angry at Mark or Colleen because they bathe every decision in prayer and seek God's will for all they do. I couldn't be angry at God...or so I thought. I found myself saying that I was angry at cancer. But if you think about it, that makes no sense.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Coming to realize where my anger originated, who it was against, repentance, contentment, peace came one night at church when someone spoke of reading <em>Pilgrim's Progress</em> with their family.<br /><br /><br />In <em>Pilgrim's Progress, </em>Christian ends up in Doubting Castle which was guarded by the Giant Despair. Christian had no hope for escape and only death to look forward to. But he remembered that he had a key called Promise that he kept in his bosom and it would unlock any door.<br /><br />It took remembering that small part of a book (my favorite part, might I add), to show me that I <em>was</em> angry at God. Angry that He would allow Colleen to have cancer. Angry that it wasn't found sooner. Angry that it had metastized. Angry that their therapies didn't work. Angry that it wasn't me even. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I was just plain mad. Completely pushing against the will of God. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Now, you ask, what does any of this have to do with doubting castle and the key of Promise. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>God allowed them to go through such a valley to show me that I had locked myself in a castle of despair. My anger was nothing more than pride and it locked me into despair that went much deeper than my anger.<br /><br />How did I get there? How did I get from contentment to anger so quickly? I still don't know but I'll consider it a lesson learned, a valley that has taken me back to mountains of peace.<br /><br />And even more good news!!!<br /><br />We too have the Key of Promise. Promises that He will never leave us or forsake us. Promises that all is for His glory and our good. Promises of healing, whether on this earth on in heaven. Promises of eternity with no diseases, including the most terrible disease of sin. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>What a relief to know His will <em>will<strong></em></strong> be done and I can honestly say that's good enough for me</strong>.Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-19287200917417237022009-08-25T17:47:00.001-07:002009-11-07T20:43:38.272-08:00Something Old, Something New<strong>Someone reminded me that there is nothing new under the sun. How true that is as we see hard time coming to this nation and remember that this world has seen hard times before. But God's church always prevails. Such a sweet comfort to my heart to know that God reigns. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>We need to humble ourselves and pray, folks. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Update:</strong><br /><strong><br />I have a new nephew. He was born 07/20/09 and has been the sweetest little baby! He was named William David and we all call him Will. His daddy calls him Will-I-Am and his sister calls him...new baby. (ha!) I wonder how in the world my brother and sister-in-law do it. Taking care of 3 kids, 3 and under, definitely keeps a person running.<br /><br />I also got to be in a c/section with one of my friends! I had forgotten how wonderful the mirable of life really is. May we never forget that getting here, in one piece, perfectly healthy is a miracle.<br /><br />And friends from church had their 5th...a baby girl!! She's has the sweetest little face and I will never forget her older sister's face when she first came in the room looking for her new sister. Priceless.<br /><br />Aren't babies wonderful! *sigh*<br /><br /><br /><br /></strong><strong></strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-73828729191036895992009-07-14T19:59:00.001-07:002009-07-14T20:14:26.973-07:00Dr Bill<strong>It's hard to say that I'm sad when a brother/sister in Christ passes away. I can't miss them because I know where they are. I shouldn't be sad because they aren't. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Right?</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>But I <em>do</em> miss those who go before us to Paradise. One of the kindest men I know was taken Home last week and I miss him. </strong><br /><strong>And I'll tell you why. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><br /><p><strong>-He never failed to hug and kiss my face EVERY Sunday. </strong></p><p><strong>-He told me (almost every Sunday) that if he was 40 years younger he would talk to my dad. </strong></p><p><strong>-He was concerned about my health and told me so every chance he got. </strong></p><div><strong>-He truly showed forth Christ in all he did and said. </strong><br /><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong>-He loved his Lord, loved his church and loved his family...physical and spiritual.</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>-His smile was infectious and genuine.</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong>And those are just a few....</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /></div><strong></strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358519713389597154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVDGSwrFwj5taE56j40v-NaMUR9xc6UiO64rdMcr676iUW_n1hwob1LB9RpwACdJj_nikZf6cr64bXFPbgaA_ZVVR0y1YGC5ZPUcb7xdpqCHs6oD28qkEOusEuz0Z-rIoE1peEBWEWV0UD/s200/september06+018+recropped.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><strong>Love you Dr Bill!</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-50447713684058714292009-06-25T20:40:00.000-07:002009-06-25T20:54:15.627-07:00Change My Heart, O God<strong>You ever been fussed at. The person giving you the piece of their mind is really in the wrong and all you want to do is point that out in a kind voice...while holding them in a half-nelson. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>The old Susanna would have done definitely administered the choke hold but would have never used the kind voice. I actually told someone today that I was sorry (?!) despite the fact that I didn't really do anything wrong. Soft words were heard instead of the truth. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>But my purpose in telling you this is not to show how good <em>I</em> am but how good <em>God</em> is. As I thought back to this episode and my reaction I was really shocked to remember kind words coming from my mouth.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Reflecting on all this surprisingly comforted my heart as I see how God has done a work in my life, assuring me that I am His because the Susanna before Christ wouldn't have reacted in such a way.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Thank you Lord for showing me your work in my life even in hard situations and reminding a hurt heart that Your love is "underneath me, all around me". </strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-36551840223230744572009-06-09T19:21:00.000-07:002009-06-21T19:24:50.015-07:00Refreshergy. Happy Times. Lovin' Life.<div align="left"><strong>I think I've finally figured out why I haven't blogged in a while. I've actually been kind of busy, which I didn't realize until I started going through my pics for just one month.</strong><br /><br /><br /></div><strong></strong><br /><strong>The month of May has been full of laugher, reminicing, happy tears, graduations, dancing, games, a mountain, fellowship, family, friends.</strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>The graduation was the most exciting this year because a precious girl who I've known since birth (ahhhhhh! I'm so old!!!), graduated from high school. I couldn't believe how much I cried. She's beautiful, her heart is gracious, her personality delightful and her smile infectious. Congratulations Elizabeth!</strong><br /><br /><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Lanie had her dance recital--3rd year--and did great! She <em>loves </em>to dance and always has. She had two dances this year and successfully did both. I particularly loved when she went up to get her award and said into the microphone, "<em>My name is Alayna and I'm 5. years. old." </em>Adorable. I was in the balcony but I'm pretty sure she heard her Aunt Susanna cheering for her.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>A few friends, my sister and I decided to go to Oak Mountain this year for Memorial Day which was beautiful! We first canoed a little as we waited for the rest of our company to meet up with us. When Joanna and I ventured out, our other friends had just arrived so we rowed over to see them. Unfortunately, we have super rowing skills and rowed right into a giant bush on the shore line. I attempted to row us backward. Joanna just laughed.<br /><br /></strong><strong></strong><strong>All this rain has really payed off because Peavine Falls were the biggest I've seen. We hiked (if you call it that...we barely got out of breath) down to the falls and played around the waterfall, found a salamander, took pictures and then walked down the creek a little ways to find a pool that was a little deeper. There was a God-made rock slide that went right into this pool which made the water all the more inviting. Joanna and her friend were the only ones that slid though. I'm chicken if the water's too cold. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Then we had a good time looking at God's creation and wondering how anyone could <em>not </em>see that this world has a Creator with a special design in mind. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>We headed down to the beach at Oak Mountain lake which was <em>packed </em>with people. Once again...didn't get in the water...too cold...and I didn't want to get my hair wet. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>We brought a volleyball and since there were 6 of us, we played a few games of 3-on-3. Little did we know but there was a family watching us, wanting to play. After about our 3rd game, an interesting character approached us asking if we wanted to play their family since they had six who wanted to play. We figured--hey, 6-on-6, that's a real volleyball game. We're in--little did we know how eccentric the family was. I'll refrain from commenting on the different personalities, but I will say that we had opportunity to witness. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Our few games of playing the "interesting" family brought a crowd and, according to the family member, the next group would play the winner. Us. So we played a group of teenage girls who cheated horribly and still lost. Then a group of Mexicans that were a lot of fun. Then, what I will call the melting pot of Oak Mountain...there were 4 gentlemen from India, 2 Mexicans and 2 from our "interesting" family.<br /><br /></strong><strong></strong><strong>I'm sad to say. They beat us. Our last game and we didn't win!!</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>But we had fun. And I fell. Which is just par for the course. How can sand cause a scrape on my leg that looks like rug burn?!</strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>This trip to Oak Mountain was so refreshing though. I used to go up there all the time with my cousin but work and life has kept me so busy that I haven't been up there in years. It made me reflect on how busy I keep myself and how I need to stop and refresh the soul sometimes, remembering my Creator and remembering that my life is but a vapor. All this makes me thankful for the days I've had and the times of rest that come <em>just</em> when I need them. </strong><br /><br /><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>We serve a loving God, don't we?</strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-66177546661495668492009-05-26T18:02:00.001-07:002009-06-07T20:13:16.016-07:00...and that was the month of April.<strong>There've been a few fun things that went on since my last post. I'll see if I can catch you up. </strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><strong>1. Lanie turned 5!! She had a princess party and it was, thankfully, uneventful. By that, I mean no injuries. We usually have <em>some </em>kind of story about the birthday parties and I'm just glad this one went off nicely. Daniel kept his eyebrows, no children were almost suffocated in the moon walk because of adults trying to jump and no balloons were accidentally set free before the party even began. </strong><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344781302706347666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizQcxICYr7SVdCt48Hl59E5x5Yh_MySctrO1YeQeDyl8kM30hBywu6pokxGlGsOvo4ANbpF1Gt0C-RsrL0dL8rAHOcDSbyPMIP03b82bMCLNOXu6Z_j__d6yUzTN5jxHJvGuhwmMkuxKuw/s200/IMG_4573.JPG" border="0" /></strong><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>2.I went to see the Gardners in Colorado!! I can't even begin to tell you how much I miss that family. I had a 10 year old flying buddy and ever since we've been back we've been planning our next trip out there. We might even decide to fly to England one time just for fun--it's just one of the places we both want to visit, so why not go together, right?<br />While we were out there we:<br /> -played kickball (beating the boys 5-0 one time, and 10-0 the next time!!)<br /> -ate a lot of good food (Marie is a great cook and I love, love, LOVE her pimento cheese spread!)<br /> -went window shopping which turned into people watching. Colorado is quite liberal...and interesting.<br /> -I got to ski!! I never made it off the bunny slope, but I don't care. I had a blast!<br /> -saw the Rockies and they. are. breath-taking. The weird thing is, they're pretty rocky. Like, very little grass and trees.<br /> -kissed Mary Morgan every day. That baby girl is just precious!</strong><br /></div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwjXhY5jOSZH_TCb73tuekyYd5gzkInbdU8XxeWnkUTdxTXh-ln9fhTXUufzBn7KqeWJ8dMKZd2dBinOp8jD_7WWfAE4tKxJ3pC6Wo3F1HJe9qCd5Q0WF3BcRWHFQfpQiVTI3vcKBIM-R/s1600-h/100_1590.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344787258671274994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwjXhY5jOSZH_TCb73tuekyYd5gzkInbdU8XxeWnkUTdxTXh-ln9fhTXUufzBn7KqeWJ8dMKZd2dBinOp8jD_7WWfAE4tKxJ3pC6Wo3F1HJe9qCd5Q0WF3BcRWHFQfpQiVTI3vcKBIM-R/s200/100_1590.JPG" border="0" /></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344783473349489682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-JWK-zMyDcBZMhPBg8XWoH84G6_x9cuMGXlZh997IeClxcPYJeX6RikwiukG8-W3ZwBP1cFJqcsxnJOx_B_MHiWAmL-V8YfKTwb0cOu65YSRTnTLADoOKSprsySYf66OHKk1ulSREAwi/s200/IMG_4929.JPG" border="0" /> </div></div><br /><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>3. I got to see Wicked, musical!! It. was. amazing! I didn't think I would like it as much as I did, but now I can't wait to see it again. Then we found the outside stage door and waited for the cast to take pics and meet them. Very fun!</strong></div><div><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344785546268405490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiovItoNL-y_snjCvTBwDAsZ8FlxYVv3CMMo-bEFBn9w4dve54Draiy61mOfz1aVMx8_7XwdTmfALR5QXgx5Z3ZlZfy6lvThCBSuqbCIivokgYUdwUrK8HLHBeN0oRxTPHnnCjWj7mlkEvG/s200/IMG_4973.JPG" border="0" /></strong><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>4. We just finished up ball season so we've spent a lot of nights at the ballfield. Josh's team did better this year. He played 3rd base or left field and we got to cheer really loud and embarass him like we always do. </strong><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344786756191379618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3HZd8IOGlaUZLTP-mpxRTSedAuvV15Zgj_yED4Bc9HCXPw_B12YNeslxp1VP-9xx6dIXxBS7XuQEpUXZpJgMkhAe5Z4S69_YI2JMHCncr0F9R8cVCQOT2F7qSG0ANkCKRB8iIAo7UqyEM/s200/IMG_4670.JPG" border="0" /> </strong></div></div><strong></strong></div><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><div><strong><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><p>And here are a few pics of my nieces and nephews. You know. The ones I <em>always </em>talk about. They are pretty cute, I think.<br /></strong><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344788596799181618" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixAsC06MVyfG7C9PruX3mYtM0buupvsHL6MUxltYoZYJXGiG2Iq-swe3hMP0IdZdLDfocRm1IQVn2dh3qCRd6hqD_jbeDizWDWSSsjQowL98bgZDQBcUG46n6XedRj6Q-U-3cj1Ncxm-r1/s200/n1079458345_30400986_7706038.jpg" border="0" /></strong><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344788312068092642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL-F82PDZcQtkIjK2q9OhZzu9ukjU80VYUA8yRZmH8NHktXbOhMzS5W77-r8SNXi2DHdU3uH5fIbI8NoctlL-cg4bJwVhP5Rvimy7ebCi2CSgJLtc8W4zvIDdcrH1US4xklVeCSJ_IX3VZ/s200/n1079458345_30400985_3065785.jpg" border="0" /></strong></p></div></div>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-81751763053701258012009-03-27T18:09:00.000-07:002009-03-27T22:26:52.952-07:00A Method To My Madness<strong>I know my blog url address is a bit long and my title seems a bit odd so I thought I'd explain myself since I did actually put <em>some </em>thought into my choices. My reasons:<br /></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>1. I like them. Do I need a better reason than that?<br /></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>2. I see now that they spark conversation and I'm pretending that that was one my original reasons for choosing them.<br /><br /></strong><strong></strong><strong></strong><br /><strong>3. When you suffer, whether with pain, loneliness, loss, emotional strain, depression (and I could go on with reasons to suffer)...you start to thinking. Sometimes you get to thinking about things you shouldn't.<br />When I have a bad day of hurting and I feel completely worn out, I wonder if God is even paying attention to me, if He even notices that I don't feel good. I know it's a silly thing to wonder, but in my flesh, I think it. Sadly, it usually occurs to me, after the fact, that God is there and He does care and He is paying attention. And that thought seems to come later, at church, or listening to my music long after my pity party has passed. So the url is a reminder for me and came from the last verse of the hymn <em>Jesus I Am Resting, Resting</em>...</strong><br /><strong>"Ever lift Thy face upon me as I work and wait for thee;<br />Resting 'neath Thy smile, Lord Jesus, earth's dark shadows flee.<br />Brightness of my Father's glory, sunshine of my Father's face,<br />Keep me ever trusting, resting, fill me with Thy grace."<br /><br /></strong><strong></strong><strong>As I suffer, and as you suffer, we must, <em>must</em> remember that we are ever 'neath His smile; which is a wonderful thing to remember when our thoughts are of nothing good. And we should remember that "earth's dark shadows" do flee, though at the time we feel like they don't, or won't, or can't.<br /><br />The title of my blog is another hymn that I'm not going to quote because of all the verses and I don't think I could pick just one verse. </strong><strong><em>Abide With Me</em> is the title of that hymn and once again it reminds me that there isn't a moment when He isn't near. If I ever feel He's far away it's because of my own thoughts, sins, emotions...not because He isn't actually near. I love the psalms, but there are some hymns that just speak my heart and speak to my heart in ways that I can't seem to put into words.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Those are my three reasons for my rather long url and odd blog title. Aren't you glad you know now?</strong><br /><strong>Are you resting 'neath His smile?</strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-84669293155473297102009-03-22T20:21:00.000-07:002009-03-22T21:00:01.985-07:00A Few Days Of Refreshment<strong>I was delighted to house/dog/pregnant kitty-sit for a few days for friends and pretty excited to have a little alone time. I guess I didn't realize how alone I would be because I had no internet!!!! I was forced to actually find something else to do with my time other than checking emails, facebooking, blogging, and so on.<br />But I found this time to be even more refreshing than I'd hoped. I would walk the dog down a quiet road with woods on each side, watching her bolt after a squirrel as if her life depended it. I could stop and reflect on lovely trees, blue skies with fluffy white clouds, crisp spring air and thoughts of the Creator Who made such things for me to enjoy.</strong><br /><div><div><br /><div><strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDd7cExEJ6V3osYX7pNVsuF-6wTYiCSG6boXvL8k8ImwrWXYvad3Gz3oMQEbQSHobwUgbThKAyvq22dX6vN_uMxLtltKGleyLiV9K6JhzygTnbuYVAlhD_EaER_lrApWcK2HCDmNNB9GRI/s1600-h/IMG_4168.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316222653859639458" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDd7cExEJ6V3osYX7pNVsuF-6wTYiCSG6boXvL8k8ImwrWXYvad3Gz3oMQEbQSHobwUgbThKAyvq22dX6vN_uMxLtltKGleyLiV9K6JhzygTnbuYVAlhD_EaER_lrApWcK2HCDmNNB9GRI/s200/IMG_4168.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I am so caught up in my busy life at work, the tired drive home in traffic, a quick bite to eat before I fall into bed with my computer, hoping to keep some access with the outside world through my laptop before I lose consciousness...that I've seem to forget to just stop and, for lack of better phrasing, smell the flowers.<br />To just stand, looking up at, breathing deeply with my mind full of the God who delights in me. Well. It's overwhelming at times. </strong></div><br /><div><strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyY0S98cMevCAfCVkYNPlgtkFkMfqRcW39O3cE_gT0Y5Wka24NcgYzx10bzjB4itFk8J8mAr3uYpf5EIhESsFWHvjzXWDQCOrtyWv1p_VWDK4iBrhhDwFXVjRvqStsdTOSi_eOB7osu0xq/s1600-h/IMG_4177.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316223021094646786" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyY0S98cMevCAfCVkYNPlgtkFkMfqRcW39O3cE_gT0Y5Wka24NcgYzx10bzjB4itFk8J8mAr3uYpf5EIhESsFWHvjzXWDQCOrtyWv1p_VWDK4iBrhhDwFXVjRvqStsdTOSi_eOB7osu0xq/s200/IMG_4177.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong>And not just that. These dear friends have a library! </strong></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rQk28pctJg8-jpW7Ri412TCubk39apakPvKQcHzz6_DfRD4O8BFfS478FHTDN82FiW17oRVQUV2uDkC72aXuGPLkENJhLRhuhBXQ83awTxx-sSCZvD5PQaOK4dzudUenMEmMqwmKuvOg/s1600-h/IMG_4192.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316227137537264914" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rQk28pctJg8-jpW7Ri412TCubk39apakPvKQcHzz6_DfRD4O8BFfS478FHTDN82FiW17oRVQUV2uDkC72aXuGPLkENJhLRhuhBXQ83awTxx-sSCZvD5PQaOK4dzudUenMEmMqwmKuvOg/s200/IMG_4192.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><strong><div><br /> </div><div> </div><div>Be still, my beating heart! Oh books, come to momma. So many...and yet I chose just one.<br /><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br />The quiet, the solitude did wonders for my worn out mind and it makes me wonder why I don't visit my family more often in Va where I could sit and rest the mind, soul, spirit. I do believe a trip is in order. Soon.<br />And thank you, wonderful God, for giving me this time to think on You, reflect on Your goodness to me and repent of not thinking on You more.<br /><br /><br /><br />Then to make my time visiting this home even better...the cat had her kittens!!!! Four fluffy, adorable kittens! She had two late in the evening and I waited up for another hour and a half thinking there would be more. When two seemed to be it, I went on to bed but when I woke the next morning there were two more! Two calicos (females) and one black with a little bit of white and a solid white one (both males). I just can't stop looking at them and it reminds of when my own cat of 17 years, who's been gone for almost a year now, who had two litters a year for many years. I miss having kittens around. I almost wish I had told the family that there were only three kittens and steal one away to love. I wonder if I could talk my mother into another cat.<br /></div><div>*sigh* kittens...babies....they're just wonderful, aren't they?<br /></div><div> </div><div>As I waited on the family to return, sitting on the steps of their open library, staring at the blue sky, blooming trees, feeling the wind blowing, watching that precious dog look for dead animals to bring up to me....wait, what?!</div><div> </div><div><br />*gag!*</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>*Remember the blue skies. Remember the blue skies...*</strong></div></div></div>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-56677420140016264262009-03-14T18:52:00.000-07:002009-03-21T21:02:32.001-07:00Ever Tried to Put A Trampoline Together?<strong>My brother and his wife bought a trampoline for their kids on the day after Thanksgiving. I remember the date because I was there and, my sister and pregnant sister-in-law attempted to put in the back of a truck. By ourselves. It took a while. And it's been sitting in their garage ever since. </strong><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLvv_cO9TdBxYH2CD0wHxqEq4QChm0VbR18IlvvF6wVwYC_2qSOnCTjziFMqepJvmlvJQx2kgLhpaI40tVwGy1ILZieLOXyCiNRnP08KaZVzAZSXExV10VZ958ZK7HMCIdw5SQmUedmeK/s1600-h/IMG_3921.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313233845228799522" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLvv_cO9TdBxYH2CD0wHxqEq4QChm0VbR18IlvvF6wVwYC_2qSOnCTjziFMqepJvmlvJQx2kgLhpaI40tVwGy1ILZieLOXyCiNRnP08KaZVzAZSXExV10VZ958ZK7HMCIdw5SQmUedmeK/s200/IMG_3921.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><strong></strong><strong></strong><br /><strong>Maddie turned three on the 18th of February and we had her birthday party a few weekends after. For some reason, we decided to put that thing together. It seemed easy enough but when you get too many opinions together at one time it takes a LOT longer than it probably should have. </strong><br /><div><br /> </div><div><strong>The first dilema was how to put the rods/bars in order. You would that "A" would go next to "B" and then comes "C". After discussion we all agreed that yes, that is the order they should go. But after we laid "C" down then what comes next? There was no "D", so the the debate began as to whether you would start back over with "A" or if you would place another "B" down and go backwards. Personally, I can't believe we even had the debate but it did last for approx. 20 minutes. </strong><br /></div><div><strong>I also learned that no one wants to actually use a manual screwdriver. When you have a mechanic who uses power tools for a living, he is quick to share with you how much he does not like having twist a screwdriver. So the debate began again as to who would use the screwdriver...the one who uses one for a living (brother #1) or the one who was the owner of the screwdriver (brother #2).</strong><br /><br /></div><div><strong>*note...these "debates" were not held in a mean, arguementative manner but in the typical Vaughan way. We picked on the person mercilessly. So when brother #1 didn't want to use the manual screwdriver he just picked on brother #2 until he did it himself. And the onlookers laughed. </strong><br /></div><div><strong>We, the onlookers, also took time to play a little basketball, making sure that the ball bounced towards those working....</strong><br /><br /></div><div><strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZV7kmb7_QxSir5MYVPAu1PzDULr4ns0oAmEPy6O9_imDUNQOyM2pRJVwNfaWmob52ROjGvDFTsWO3cML3LWlL6gTaQfDIbyR6u7Q26bZCAWEmw53BHPiUQDoebSYN0ZHwcR2MkVs5pIPe/s1600-h/IMG_3931.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313231348539878370" style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZV7kmb7_QxSir5MYVPAu1PzDULr4ns0oAmEPy6O9_imDUNQOyM2pRJVwNfaWmob52ROjGvDFTsWO3cML3LWlL6gTaQfDIbyR6u7Q26bZCAWEmw53BHPiUQDoebSYN0ZHwcR2MkVs5pIPe/s200/IMG_3931.JPG" border="0" /></a></strong><br /></div><div><strong>...or read up on how to jump on a trampoline, including some fancy jumps. I particularly love the figurines.</strong></div><div><strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD9NOyK1v6z0m9F9TUK080FJn3RNx38I4CUX62aYq42TM5BbyhJxkCtIBWPV673gWf3XKGSpnVnvmRwlUGyLzkBaTY4-S2blJa_66ChcqNP9NJ6VRX2dGgUBHj5ByYZjXGDfpqMCX27TEO/s1600-h/IMG_3947.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313231920007899074" style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD9NOyK1v6z0m9F9TUK080FJn3RNx38I4CUX62aYq42TM5BbyhJxkCtIBWPV673gWf3XKGSpnVnvmRwlUGyLzkBaTY4-S2blJa_66ChcqNP9NJ6VRX2dGgUBHj5ByYZjXGDfpqMCX27TEO/s200/IMG_3947.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOAgEYttk6J3hhENpAkIu1I6fc85oCLXoGYSp_dJcuPp_N4uo3uKTxmgaVO4m8LLb8mZaR1FyjeEkutu8Lr3jR5hz02Gj8e0bC8cs8uHeMTj88DfEt-71p6hcQEtgslWrCQSpxCxZ73j8/s1600-h/IMG_3948.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313232366108551346" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOAgEYttk6J3hhENpAkIu1I6fc85oCLXoGYSp_dJcuPp_N4uo3uKTxmgaVO4m8LLb8mZaR1FyjeEkutu8Lr3jR5hz02Gj8e0bC8cs8uHeMTj88DfEt-71p6hcQEtgslWrCQSpxCxZ73j8/s200/IMG_3948.JPG" border="0" /></a></strong><br /><br /></div><div><strong>Some would take a break and use the trampoline before it was in actual proper working order. Maybe they were just overly excited. They are definitely very good at pretending because they look authentic to me.</strong><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZD9DLPvhHIjLFsBY5qcQc9o7-gQkZ8xrgwxj4zC0DioP2zlNtEW0vn1ZoeA94W1AfKdos3O2yOiA2DbUAbo-Ffxc1tS2lHOdubB6jH2TGAfXCr6Eqg2QJ2Eh95seDZB1J-Ojw6GHswlI0/s1600-h/IMG_3933.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313233203512563730" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZD9DLPvhHIjLFsBY5qcQc9o7-gQkZ8xrgwxj4zC0DioP2zlNtEW0vn1ZoeA94W1AfKdos3O2yOiA2DbUAbo-Ffxc1tS2lHOdubB6jH2TGAfXCr6Eqg2QJ2Eh95seDZB1J-Ojw6GHswlI0/s200/IMG_3933.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><strong>Once we got the frame together things seemed to move much faster. Brother #2 took charge of attaching the springs from the black jump-on part to the frame...because he was the owner...and we felt like we needed a break from all our supervising...and it's fun to watch people work.</strong><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2vuDn8yTSk9nC2ulJCaPCcgY2fobMUoC7aSqnhj2Qf_xQpJuUWXLuKqafkAbFV8UdPAPEbVDOMi-UpA1JdOpvbv6C-tBvxsMvyaJet1sFcqw7YM345NIx_Qt5ORvN-dRvf8qSvWSu364/s1600-h/IMG_3940.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315850450132734290" style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2vuDn8yTSk9nC2ulJCaPCcgY2fobMUoC7aSqnhj2Qf_xQpJuUWXLuKqafkAbFV8UdPAPEbVDOMi-UpA1JdOpvbv6C-tBvxsMvyaJet1sFcqw7YM345NIx_Qt5ORvN-dRvf8qSvWSu364/s200/IMG_3940.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><strong>Once we all had our first jump then we decided to be safe (as one <em>should</em> be) and put up the safety net. That took time too and the two oldest were volunteered into that thankless job. </strong><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhSfakThybr6w3BRI8pyhv8oGi4TRs31Fr9gTf2qC6VMchYCVI6pzgx8Yhw7Mzqf-nrAIqDYarXDraDrMzUxGH3dj0rmXfYhKhnGNYwJPku9wTaldlGbvrusQBemoqfdoHedmhrRIwbzo/s1600-h/IMG_3953.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315852144315953074" style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhSfakThybr6w3BRI8pyhv8oGi4TRs31Fr9gTf2qC6VMchYCVI6pzgx8Yhw7Mzqf-nrAIqDYarXDraDrMzUxGH3dj0rmXfYhKhnGNYwJPku9wTaldlGbvrusQBemoqfdoHedmhrRIwbzo/s200/IMG_3953.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nRmOL9lVhG01LiNipfLJ1LnzCTVd0gnjQtyFqGmY0uyjw3css58uPYuA7Dtf439Uf1JcYbNOsRKicMq6Uc6pYyn2qKfcFMk2f6elYeh79kpFUc0zkUU99HD9vV7_6cYAagmvwz2fKSrJ/s1600-h/IMG_3956.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315852409761555330" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nRmOL9lVhG01LiNipfLJ1LnzCTVd0gnjQtyFqGmY0uyjw3css58uPYuA7Dtf439Uf1JcYbNOsRKicMq6Uc6pYyn2qKfcFMk2f6elYeh79kpFUc0zkUU99HD9vV7_6cYAagmvwz2fKSrJ/s200/IMG_3956.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizxaiR3eQI5mzQTE1WtnIxXd-bPW_1xqHPtGOIiaUu9rzNcaOBiPIANAYLm6I37Vsw65Q_0TfMfzOTY90KDOlFEyzuAagTkVyhLZYVGPkuJp4_9O36EubOaQuIAp_DfBoSHkcB4BwAmfpA/s1600-h/IMG_3963.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315852601009966626" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizxaiR3eQI5mzQTE1WtnIxXd-bPW_1xqHPtGOIiaUu9rzNcaOBiPIANAYLm6I37Vsw65Q_0TfMfzOTY90KDOlFEyzuAagTkVyhLZYVGPkuJp4_9O36EubOaQuIAp_DfBoSHkcB4BwAmfpA/s200/IMG_3963.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>But the end project was so nice. So fun. So fulfilling.</strong></div><div><strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRvHV7eHwfmBCdswlnRrzkXgdkP92yHqjxaEOLHDTDSEz9gZGZbD3F0k2eLyPfBfA2cvNpRdvjQoHXGPaAu9kz3qfQcom9sNVrRfg4dlQ8wgHT3me1APMzukFoaAOkaQ2fD-9Kghwku_ck/s1600-h/IMG_3973.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315852978413302434" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRvHV7eHwfmBCdswlnRrzkXgdkP92yHqjxaEOLHDTDSEz9gZGZbD3F0k2eLyPfBfA2cvNpRdvjQoHXGPaAu9kz3qfQcom9sNVrRfg4dlQ8wgHT3me1APMzukFoaAOkaQ2fD-9Kghwku_ck/s200/IMG_3973.JPG" border="0" /></a></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJfIZAuNII0JJzCW2fAPC2x7qACWEFtoxcLXiMm6UDp3dmbCnMG2mizwjSyQmzCP-xgLPOg-jTAFOHk9h7L_rsTEClWDGAMw4P2NCKCj4eHUUHwzYdFS0JQi-W0Fjnf2tvIxMUVIklGNTa/s1600-h/IMG_3977.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315853312589374946" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJfIZAuNII0JJzCW2fAPC2x7qACWEFtoxcLXiMm6UDp3dmbCnMG2mizwjSyQmzCP-xgLPOg-jTAFOHk9h7L_rsTEClWDGAMw4P2NCKCj4eHUUHwzYdFS0JQi-W0Fjnf2tvIxMUVIklGNTa/s200/IMG_3977.JPG" border="0" /></a></strong></div><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QOqaoVRiktK0P86B5qc3M9bu1MoumF264EjxQ_rt6RUtsJXT_kHUCzABmH-x_dZtkqE2bveXssxr0RPgGBoRlJGudMQecTYewAsrOmZnV86UXsz508xvvu0V_w6NkAshKnyMpjbAZoQI/s1600-h/IMG_4584.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315854473143285618" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QOqaoVRiktK0P86B5qc3M9bu1MoumF264EjxQ_rt6RUtsJXT_kHUCzABmH-x_dZtkqE2bveXssxr0RPgGBoRlJGudMQecTYewAsrOmZnV86UXsz508xvvu0V_w6NkAshKnyMpjbAZoQI/s200/IMG_4584.JPG" border="0" /></a></strong><br /><strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QOqaoVRiktK0P86B5qc3M9bu1MoumF264EjxQ_rt6RUtsJXT_kHUCzABmH-x_dZtkqE2bveXssxr0RPgGBoRlJGudMQecTYewAsrOmZnV86UXsz508xvvu0V_w6NkAshKnyMpjbAZoQI/s1600-h/IMG_4584.JPG"></a></strong><br /><strong> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCD3mCCOdaf91HDxpTEo0yUvdD1GXLhSfJsoSngVDvXDyfvZGsRZBKQ3AoWMvV_XPndAfhIL1tvNFBu9ZS6D7YI2gybvYVGfK2vAUEPHd3i_V0tbuJscOQwDnruEZBuZl1HzzjOKYz_gXa/s1600-h/IMG_3966.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315854765290689762" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCD3mCCOdaf91HDxpTEo0yUvdD1GXLhSfJsoSngVDvXDyfvZGsRZBKQ3AoWMvV_XPndAfhIL1tvNFBu9ZS6D7YI2gybvYVGfK2vAUEPHd3i_V0tbuJscOQwDnruEZBuZl1HzzjOKYz_gXa/s200/IMG_3966.JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QOqaoVRiktK0P86B5qc3M9bu1MoumF264EjxQ_rt6RUtsJXT_kHUCzABmH-x_dZtkqE2bveXssxr0RPgGBoRlJGudMQecTYewAsrOmZnV86UXsz508xvvu0V_w6NkAshKnyMpjbAZoQI/s1600-h/IMG_4584.JPG"></a></strong><br /><strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QOqaoVRiktK0P86B5qc3M9bu1MoumF264EjxQ_rt6RUtsJXT_kHUCzABmH-x_dZtkqE2bveXssxr0RPgGBoRlJGudMQecTYewAsrOmZnV86UXsz508xvvu0V_w6NkAshKnyMpjbAZoQI/s1600-h/IMG_4584.JPG"></a></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><div align="left"><strong>Who would have <em>ever </em>guessed that it would take 4 hours straight to put up a trampoline? Only the Vaughans. </strong></div>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-65589022556636657692009-02-19T20:16:00.000-08:002009-02-19T20:48:10.252-08:00I've Got A Friend Who Owns A Viper<div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmByn0HUvcIkxJPqwObPLTTCHCqZNrCkWuHHJl39U4t570WLlkc9VsCZqYIMKAH2XY8YfJUAQOyNizXMgLWibeVl2PQ1uLJPqmxhlleOOTmFIauzsnycN0I61UhR-ZZImKaQWoYFdfVa0E/s1600-h/IMG_3675.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304734961163739042" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmByn0HUvcIkxJPqwObPLTTCHCqZNrCkWuHHJl39U4t570WLlkc9VsCZqYIMKAH2XY8YfJUAQOyNizXMgLWibeVl2PQ1uLJPqmxhlleOOTmFIauzsnycN0I61UhR-ZZImKaQWoYFdfVa0E/s200/IMG_3675.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><strong>That's right. A Dodge Viper. </strong></div><br /><br /><div><strong>One of the most beautiful sports cars I've ever driven. </strong></div><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><div><strong>Ok. Fine. It's the <em>only </em>sports car I've ever driven. I had intended on just riding in it and next thing I know I'm in the driver seat heading ever-so cautiously around the parking lot. </strong></div><div><strong>We drove down a residential area just so I could get a feel of the clutch and warm up the tires. (apparently the tires have to get warm or you'll fish-tale at faster speeds) </strong></div><div><strong>I could not believe the looks we got. I hadn't even pulled out on the road yet and people were driving by honking horns and rolling down their windows to yell, "nice car!". </strong></div><div><strong>I felt like such a liar! It wasn't my car but my pet peeve of proper car etiquette required a smile, nod and thank-you wave. I suppose, just out of politeness I must pretend it's mine. Right?<br />At one point a young boy was running off his porch towards "our" car asking for a ride!</strong></div><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>I just don't understand boys and cars. My friend, who is a fellow female, and I appreciate the beauty of the outside of the car and the fact that its black (which is <em>very </em>slimming) but it doesn't go much deeper than that.</strong></div><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>We headed out towards the interstate since our tires were warm, my friend driving this time, and discovered that we decided to venture out at one of the worst times of the day...rush hour. That can make you a little nervous but most people steer clear of the sports car for some reason.<br />We hadn't been on the interstate long when I noticed a <em>significantly </em>older lady driving a Kia van passing us and to keep our status as "cool", admonished my friend to speed it up. (no offense towards those who drive Kia's or vans, but when your in a sports car doing 45-50 mph on the interstate?!....I think you get my drift)</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>I drove home and the top was off the car so my hair was, shall we say, wind-blown (which is just a nice word for "nasty rat's nest) and my hands frozen so that I could barely shift. But who cares!!! We were in a Viper!!!</strong></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhfsvkm3tEpds449AADA0ZCqQXcrQLgYD1C90RY5UQ96CsPwrbmrLsH7F0BpBtl4nqhlwYxgE9Ck6IwKyyK8s2nPp5BQvWIqAWt42gpQKPtD-DziK1wQn2piXrIEHcwFS_kZEkxab5AbeA/s1600-h/IMG_3572.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304734745274252290" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhfsvkm3tEpds449AADA0ZCqQXcrQLgYD1C90RY5UQ96CsPwrbmrLsH7F0BpBtl4nqhlwYxgE9Ck6IwKyyK8s2nPp5BQvWIqAWt42gpQKPtD-DziK1wQn2piXrIEHcwFS_kZEkxab5AbeA/s200/IMG_3572.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>*note*</strong></div><div><strong>I wouldn't suggest taking such a car to an outlet mall for a quick shopping excursion, finding a toy store that's going out of business and buying up large plastic toys. The trunk is nothing to talk about and what started as a short trip to the mall ended in a "where are we going to put all this stuff", now I'm riding with plastic buckets and shovels in my lap. </strong></div><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><div></div></div>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-46894096165420722532009-01-24T18:52:00.000-08:002009-01-24T19:19:25.099-08:00Sovereignty in Sickness and Sadness<strong>As our office comes up on the one year mark of when Dr Perry found out about his cancer, I can feel myself getting overwhelmed with sadness...because I miss him.<br /><br /><br />I was listening to a song that he liked to listen to in surgery earlier this week. It talked about getting to heaven first, waiting on the far side banks of Jordan. Kind of a bluegrass/gospel song by the Carter family. Really sweet song but sad as it reminds me of someone who's already in heaven that I miss a lot. Needless to say, I cried.<br />So when I got to work I was REALLY missing him and wishing he was here to talk to, pray with.<br /><br /><br /><br />God has a way of giving me just what I need at just the right time. I sit down at work, tears still on my face, to check my emails and the short devotional that I get by email every morning messed up my pity party. <em>God</em> is just what I need, when I need. <em>He's</em> the One that comforts in sadness. <em>He</em> heals affliction, pain, sickness. <em>He</em> helps bear the cross. <em>He</em> is all I could ever want.<br /><br />Wow. Talk about conviction as I want so desperately to see Dr Perry one more time because he was such a rock in my life, to realize that there is only One Rock. One who is greater than I. One who is greater than Dr Perry. One who can give me everything that my heart was desiring.<br /><br /><br />I had to share that with my coworkers during our devotional because I know that we're all suffering with the same type of broken heart. And then a new conviction hits me!<br /><br /><br />Someone shares a John Piper story of the sovereignty of God with the landing of the plane in the Hudson all the way to the inauguration of a new president with seemingly dark motives. If God is sovereign in the lining up of geese to fly into the two engines of plane, to the perfect belly landing in a cold Hudson River, to placing a pro-choice president over a nation, could he not be sovereign in healing the emotionally broken heart and healing the physically broken body of a sad, hurting girl? My woes seem kind of mild in comparison, don't you think. Yet He still cares. He still orchestrates all that goes on in my life.<br /><br /><br /><br />It never ceases to amaze me as I look back and see how God works in my life.</strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-32056846186467797422009-01-18T17:31:00.001-08:002009-02-19T20:55:13.878-08:00The Gift Of Clumsiness<strong>That's right. I've got the gift.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>So I'm at work, in a room with the doctor, patient and patient's husband. I think we're done and I'm unplugging the computer to take it out in the hall with me but my doc decides on an impromptu prayer. I'm ok with that. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>So I plug back up the computer and turn to walk to the others to hold hands and pray but...</strong><br /><strong>I trip over the cord and fall into the husband. They all start laughing and asking if I'm ok and I pretty much just want to pray and get out of there so I mumble something unintelligable and bow my head hoping they won't see my red face that seems to be getting redder and hotter as the seconds go by. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>And what does my dear doctor do?! He starts his prayer with..."Dear Lord. Thank you for laughter and light moments in times of pain..."</strong><br /><strong>I considered using all my strength to sqeeze his hand that I held in our circle of prayer but he might need it in surgery tomorrow. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Why do <em>I </em>have the gift?! And <em>why </em>do I use it almost every day?!</strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-10914654796438821922009-01-16T18:10:00.000-08:002009-01-16T19:06:33.930-08:00I Think About Blogging A Lot<strong>I'm always thinking about how I need to blog about this or that thought/occurance/funny story but never sit down and actually type it out. Wonder why that is? I'm not <em>so </em>busy that I can't take 15 minutes of my day to write.</strong> <strong>I think I'm just...dare I say it?...lazy. </strong><br /><br /><br /><strong>Christmas/New Year's was wonderful. I am so thankful that my immediate family lives near (one brother is about 7 minutes down the road and the other is about 12 minutes). But even though they're near we kept the road hot, let me tell you. I'm convinced that children make holidays so much more enjoyable. I think my favorite quote was my 4 year old niece who wanted to play "Clean Santa" this year instead of "Dirty Santa". Such a doll.</strong><br /><br /><strong>I know that Christmas isn't about the material things but I got one of the best presents EVER!!! I asked for an iPod pretty much since October hoping to get some gift cards to the Apple store to go towards one. Instead, my family bought me one!!! One that holds ALL of the music I have!!</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I. heart. my. iPod!!!!! Who knew I such a small item could give me such great happiness.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I have a song running through my head all day. Is that weird? I find myself randomly bursting out in song as I'm walking through the crosswalk to work, bringing stares from all in my path. Do I care? Not really. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I get a mini-devotional every morning by email and earlier this week I got one that stuck with me. It talked about holiness. That's right. Not my forte. I suppose what spoke most to me was that he (J.R.Miller) informed me that holiness begins with my thoughts. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>"Unholiness is very subtle. It creeps in when we are not aware. It begins in the heart. At first it is but a thought, a moment's imagination, a passing emotion, or a desire. Hence the heart should be kept with unremitting diligence. Only pure and holy thoughts should be entertained."</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I just never took holiness to that extent, thinking in such a shallow way that my actions proved holiness. Knowing deep in my heart that holiness begins so much sooner than what people see. Keeping my thoughts holy, pure....why is it so hard? Why wouldn't I <em>want </em>to think holy? </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Oh the struggles.</strong><br /><strong></strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-81848885038456999362008-11-24T19:36:00.001-08:002009-02-19T21:05:43.245-08:00Wow. It's Been A Long Time<strong>I guess I have a lot of catching up to do. I can't believe that it's been two months since I last blogged. What in the world have I been doing?!</strong><br /><div><div><div><div><div><br /></div><div><strong>I think I wanted something random to do (see previous post) and finally found a few things to occupy my weekends. </strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>-I went to Tennessee to work at a doctor's office for day and stopped by Elvis' birthplace in Tupelo, MS. It was a special time for me as I learned SO much about the obsession that people have with him. I was....by far!!!....the youngest person there. While in the gift shop, the cashier noticed that someone dropped their Elvis Presley guitar pick and knowing that "someone would really miss this", went out to the bus to find it's owner. Come on! A guitar pick?!<br />I joke about it but it was kind of fun to visit and learn more about the King. He DID come from a humble home and really had to work his way up to the top. </strong></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHlDUznpZGV5pQgZPFT5xvtmGjV9R7xH0og0mzajSJXNjb37H2m6k77I3d3OmlSIeOCyNp3IQ11YUp8hJ3GzQXcF6VAiN2UITEb3oW9kPQ5eGZDtB4uLF-UHx4quVRv6YvYzDRYGWBfo1P/s1600-h/Elvis+Aaron+Presley%27s+Birthplace,+Tupelo,+MS+10-2008+(14).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275406913819995058" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHlDUznpZGV5pQgZPFT5xvtmGjV9R7xH0og0mzajSJXNjb37H2m6k77I3d3OmlSIeOCyNp3IQ11YUp8hJ3GzQXcF6VAiN2UITEb3oW9kPQ5eGZDtB4uLF-UHx4quVRv6YvYzDRYGWBfo1P/s200/Elvis+Aaron+Presley%27s+Birthplace,+Tupelo,+MS+10-2008+(14).JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>-We had our Lordship conference and I am still amazed at the men we have locally who have a love, zeal, passion for the Lord and the Gospel. They are such leaders and it was a good time for me to fellowship and really take time out of a weekend to hear God's Word. And I got to see Ben Gardner who just enough to get us really missing the whole family. </strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>-Josh turned nine this year!!!! He is such a sweet kid and I cannot believe that it's been nine years. He had a Spongebob birthday which was pretty uneventful. Suprising for the Vaughan's since we like to have some kind of something crazy happen at our get togethers. The moonwalk didn't collapse, topple over, nor did anyone try to die as it fell in on us. The cake made it through the party in a whole piece and Joanna didn't let any balloons fly away before the party started. I'm kind of sad that it was so low key. Maybe we're starting a new trend.</strong></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh47Y3yQ97X8GQzQlrMzqAUMvm8K-TwDY3jQYobWbId229J9-Fmg7vTUzqncqx0T7quRQB4dPcr8zE3mcG8y-UEYBM6kCgUq6AxaYHNHPCpcB4-wHgD7ab8b6pRVJ4Wb8YWfHZwHf5Sh5vF/s1600-h/088.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275408817278062114" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh47Y3yQ97X8GQzQlrMzqAUMvm8K-TwDY3jQYobWbId229J9-Fmg7vTUzqncqx0T7quRQB4dPcr8zE3mcG8y-UEYBM6kCgUq6AxaYHNHPCpcB4-wHgD7ab8b6pRVJ4Wb8YWfHZwHf5Sh5vF/s200/088.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>-Joanna and I decided to go see the Leonardo da Vinci exhibit one weekend and it turned into a "tour of Birmingham". At first we were just going to the exhibit but saw a pink fountain of water on the way. Turns out the breast cancer walk-a-thon thing was that weekend and they dyed the water in the fountain pink. Kind of cool. </strong></div><strong><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcV4m5_BxBCtw5YZ00O9Id8pIrVChg5hWA88S-h_rsTuZl9HoR4Dt-GzAHRn46txfbJdA7K7-kiDhl4VUluzydId5bkeJeHmSsWnCEwRCej3TdHQTcuwldC8rRWUjb6MwCufHLK0S8atLY/s1600-h/IMG_1958.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275409017540185826" style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcV4m5_BxBCtw5YZ00O9Id8pIrVChg5hWA88S-h_rsTuZl9HoR4Dt-GzAHRn46txfbJdA7K7-kiDhl4VUluzydId5bkeJeHmSsWnCEwRCej3TdHQTcuwldC8rRWUjb6MwCufHLK0S8atLY/s200/IMG_1958.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></strong><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>Then to the museum where we saw Leonardo himself. I made the comment that I'd never taken a picture with Leonardo before and "he" (the guy who was dressed up as Leo was character, I guess) said, "I've never had my picture taken before." Silly. The drawings were really cool and I have a new appreciation for the guy. He was borderline genius as far as I'm concerned.</strong></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4DTF8TGYa2rphsq2sxoxd0vfLAEfAEdrgBJIJ2DvHjbIUyflHP4atg-uLsDChYuzrZtxpOF3k-_EA9Y7qzZUzI_zg6NvRSObTCHgLLjocscKLEU8mdmTUwRLAu2LncmloBM3tCUru7AW/s1600-h/IMG_1982.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275409363873098130" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4DTF8TGYa2rphsq2sxoxd0vfLAEfAEdrgBJIJ2DvHjbIUyflHP4atg-uLsDChYuzrZtxpOF3k-_EA9Y7qzZUzI_zg6NvRSObTCHgLLjocscKLEU8mdmTUwRLAu2LncmloBM3tCUru7AW/s200/IMG_1982.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>Since we are rather random, we thought we'd drive around a bit, looking at buildings and stuff. We found a <em>tiny </em>little hot dog place and a rather decent Famous Pete's hot dog which we ate at the Vulcan.</strong></div><div><br /></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>I'd never seen Vulcan and found it to be...big. Learned a lot about Birmingham and it's beginnings, etc. Good to know I guess since I've been here over 20 years and never knew. </strong></div><div><strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fNz1xlUXZuuhBkPur-01B_WigXngzXNp8Tusie-Oe7a97IYYADUGAr9FYKsSBSTKzyc8coctGGUQxIbrZNpYvRt31wsUt1EM4J_z9fIsyePuaG2VzDbl_du442veH73wkBRUaYoWvh5S/s1600-h/IMG_2051.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275406562127689858" style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fNz1xlUXZuuhBkPur-01B_WigXngzXNp8Tusie-Oe7a97IYYADUGAr9FYKsSBSTKzyc8coctGGUQxIbrZNpYvRt31wsUt1EM4J_z9fIsyePuaG2VzDbl_du442veH73wkBRUaYoWvh5S/s200/IMG_2051.JPG" border="0" /></a></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>Not surprising, Joanna and I decided to take some silly pictures. My favorite is one of Joanna laying out on the sidewalk like she was the anatomical man (a drawing by Leo). Only Joanna would have absolutely NO shame in laying flat on the sidewalk. In public. While wedding pictures were being taken just feet away. </strong></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0zMbNj3Qvl-wFB2a3mhsMojnlQIRtoVIE2MYsGQgC_LNnIZC1XGKCG0AWBqBKiZsLmAw9kckwgmSDUmw98buLQZ-CPhEpaDe1v9TNDiwr3ndWVzKkX_S_xpEckEcBNCXqdExTPKXy1KL/s1600-h/IMG_2097.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275406360637954098" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0zMbNj3Qvl-wFB2a3mhsMojnlQIRtoVIE2MYsGQgC_LNnIZC1XGKCG0AWBqBKiZsLmAw9kckwgmSDUmw98buLQZ-CPhEpaDe1v9TNDiwr3ndWVzKkX_S_xpEckEcBNCXqdExTPKXy1KL/s200/IMG_2097.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>We saw a few other buildings that are unique to Birmingham and had a fun day just being with each other. I love my little sis!</strong></div><strong></strong></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>-Went to Virginia with the parents again. This was the first time we'd been back since my grandmother passed away. Kind of different, odd to go to Virginia and there not be any grandparents to see. We have a LOT of family up there but there's something about the grandparents. I'll have to write another blog telling about the fun we had while we were up there. Only the Vaughan girls can find ridiculous things to do. </strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>So my life has been fun, not necessarily busy, but enjoyable. </strong></div><div><strong>I still miss Dr Perry. Horribly. It's hard to believe that he's gone. Just the other day I thought about something I wanted to share with him and it hit me like a punch in the chest that he wasn't there to talk to. I know he's in heaven and I'll see him again one day but...</strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>And that's my update. Hopefully I won't let so much time pass before my next one. </strong></div><div><br /> </div></div></div></div>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-24518875397956451742008-09-19T18:27:00.000-07:002008-09-19T18:42:32.314-07:00In A Rut<strong>Ok. So I haven't blogged in a while because there has been absolutely nothing exciting to even blog about. My life has been caught up in working until 6:30-7:00 at night, answering emails and falling asleep while typing. If that doesn't scream excitement, I don't know what does. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I have decided though, that I'm going to find something fun and random to do. I'm just not sure what yet, so....any ideas?</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Let me tell you about the precious phone call I got today from my 2 year old niece.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Me: Hello.</strong><br /><strong>Niece: Hey Su-Su.</strong><br /><strong>Me: Hey Maddie!!!! What are you doing?</strong><br /><strong>Niece: I home. I un oo Su-Su ca. (I want to go in Su-Su's car)</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>So then Mommy gets on the phone. I'm picking Maddie up within 10 minutes and she goes with me to eat with a friend. How in the world could I say no to such a sweet request?! We talked, sang a little and had a marvelous time. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I really need something to do if I'm now transcribing phone conversations. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Help me.</strong><br /><br /><strong></strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-70112344136718580992008-08-23T18:12:00.000-07:002008-08-23T18:55:24.122-07:00One Topic To The Next<strong>Have you ever looked back on a few days and wondered <em>why did I do that? </em>I've worked some long hours this week and really haven't had time to do anything, read anything or even pray. I've just been too exhausted. And because I haven't read, prayed or slept like I needed to, it makes the fight against sin a lot harder. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Do you have a particular sin that you just keep repeating over and over and over? You know it's wrong. You do it anyway. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>And why? You know you're just going to feel guilty and beg forgiveness. But it's like the temptation is just too strong. My pastor calls these "pet sins". Sins that we just can't give up because they're too precious to us. Why can't God be that precious to me?</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>And what's even more amazing than the fact that I don't learn after about a million times of doing wrong is that my heart is convicted, I run to God for forgiveness and He grants me forgiveness. All those million times. Now if that's not grace amazing and mercy overflowing then I'm not sure what is. I was so upset over my selfishness and God's mercy that I wrote a poem. A poem to express my distress. To show my black heart and God's overwhelming love. The kind of deep love that's underneath me, all around me. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>When I was younger I used to write poems all the time. I found that I could express myself better in poetry than just words on paper. I rarely showed those poems to anyone and probably couldn't even find them now. In fact, I probably don't want to find them because they're rather juvenile. But there's something about a outlet to express. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Anyway. Back to my original thought. </strong><br /><strong>How can God forgive me all those times knowing I'm going to fall again? Soon. He is so long-suffering with me. I don't understand. But I do appreciate it. Maybe THIS time I'll have learned my lesson. Maybe THIS time I will throw off that pet sin and replace it with Christ. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I hope so. I pray so. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>And some silly things from today:</strong><br /><strong> -Heels can make you feel pretty and girly...especially if they're pink. </strong><br /><strong> -I like spending time with my family and I sure do miss them when they're gone.</strong><br /><strong> -The beach is calling me. (Danielle...I might be coming your way!)</strong><br /><strong> -I lost my crochet needle.</strong><br /><strong> -Politics wear me out. </strong><br /><strong> -Some people will talk to ANYBODY. (Joanna and I stopped to get a bite to eat at the cafeteria at Watermark and this guy was talking to anybody and everybody. I learned that he drag races for a living. He owned a restaurant called <em>Shut Up and Eat.</em> He has someone else running that restaurant and is living off the interest alone. He thinks Joanna and I are twins. He loves shrimp.)</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I'm supposed to be running to practice for a marathon that Stacey and I are doing in a few years. Have I even walked? Absolutely not. So I decided that I'm going to walk/run at least 3 times a week for starters. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I mean it. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>And finally. Do you have a person in your life that you share things with and they always had a different perspective than anyone else? And it was always a good thing. Like you could get the same answer out of 20 people and this person would say the same thing but with different words, in a different way and it would be the decision maker or breaker.<br /><br />I am just amazed, thankful, blessed for the people God puts in my life.</strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-65472285241397661152008-08-13T17:09:00.000-07:002008-08-13T17:55:06.965-07:00Life<strong>Do you ever feel like life is too complicated? I'm struggling with this issue of living <em>in </em>the world but not <em>like </em>the world. It's not as easy as it sounds. I work at an OBGYN office and though we're a Christian office there are a lot of patients that aren't. Surprisingly, I hear all kinds of language, crudeness and stories that would make you blush and yet I have to be professional. How can I filter through the bad and pick out what needs to be addressed? These women aren't coming to us for a sermon but for health care. At what point do I say..enough!</strong><br /><strong>Drinking adult beverages in public. Does a stranger assume that because I am holding a beer or a glass of wine in my hand that I'm a sot? I don't have a problem with drinking in moderation but if I drink in public am I giving off a different impression?</strong><br /><strong>How about secular music. There are so many songs out that are encouraging, uplifting, even spiritual sounding but if the artist is an atheist or a womanizer hooked on drugs and alcohol am I endorsing them by enjoying and buying their music?</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Disclaimer:*I randomly chose three topics. I am not picking on one issue over another nor am I thinking about anyone in particular when I write about these things*</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>These are all tough questions and I have to be careful to not be a legalist when I address these issues in my heart. I want to be a light in this dark world. I want others to see me and see that there's something different about me, something peaceful. I want to be out and about enjoying good music, enjoying a glass of wine, working at my job but show forth Christ in my life. I speak out but sometimes I wonder if I speak out enough. Am I living my life differently than the world?</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>As I'm out in the world I really need to pray that God would show me wisdom in each situation. That He would use me to pull out the good and throw away the bad in everything I do. I want to love my patients and be bold in saying that I don't want to hear the unnecessary. I want to be able to enjoy that adult beverage while showing moderation. I want to love the beautiful song and speak up against the writer/artist who does not acknowledge his Creator. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I just don't know how to do that. Any thoughts? Any suggestions?</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>And then I wonder if it's possible to please everybody. I'm sure there are some who would be offended that I listen to the radio. And some would never drink in public but wouldn't mind it in the privacy of their own home. Some wouldn't listen to the patient because of her foul mouth and never get to the root of her problem. I don't want to be this person. Instead of being worried about what people are thinking, I want to be worried about what God thinks of me. Yet I have a reputation to uphold and others are watching. People watch more than you think. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Am I all over the place with these thoughts? Are they making sense to anybody?</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I just need to pray that God would guide me, show me what I'm supposed to say, when I supposed to say it. I pray for conviction when I'm wrong and discernment to pick through the filth of this world and pull out what was meant for good. I pray for understanding for those are around me and boldness to speak up for truth. I pray for wisdom. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Does anybody else struggle with these things?</strong>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-38147387352533526352008-08-02T14:28:00.000-07:002008-08-03T13:53:08.605-07:00Bob That HeadA friend at work had two tickets to see Rascal Flatts in Atlanta last night. She wasn't able to go and when I heard that she was GIVING them away, I mentioned that I might be interested.<br /><div><div><br /><div><br /><div><div><div>Ok. I practically begged her to think about me if she was seriously giving them away. </div><br /><br /><br /><div>She did give them to me (!!) and I started on my quest to find another person to go. The first that came to mind was already going and I figured that Mona (from work) was always on the prowl for something random to do on the weekend, so I asked her. </div><br /><br /><div>She said yes!!!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We had planned on meeting up after work on Friday since we only had a half a day we thought that we could leave around 2:00, 2:30 and make it to Atlanta before all the traffic. I'm here to say that that did not happen. Work delayed us so we left right at 3:00 with wet hair and no makeup, starving and adrenalin pumping. We did get something to eat pretty quick and made good time to Atlanta despite the late start.<br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBGUoN-374y7yFG9MwxCs_-WfBWjf2kUtb4JeRGvU5jKHRbllP_hmcbBTkHtCkwP9QbRRi_1SqgbSg1ozdSt-l60tyyAQ4ObnfHSEIABrFffosSVGohTRlbVCbECotnMu3OEXBHyGbwErx/s1600-h/IMG_1226.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230037654024442274" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBGUoN-374y7yFG9MwxCs_-WfBWjf2kUtb4JeRGvU5jKHRbllP_hmcbBTkHtCkwP9QbRRi_1SqgbSg1ozdSt-l60tyyAQ4ObnfHSEIABrFffosSVGohTRlbVCbECotnMu3OEXBHyGbwErx/s200/IMG_1226.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>Mapquest gave us great directions and even took us around the traffic and we pulled in with time to spare. Parking was so expensive but a girl can't complain when she didn't have to pay for tickets. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It was about a 10 minute walk to Lakewood Amphitheatre and we stood in line for about an hour and a half to get in. When we finally made it to the front and they checked our bag (my trusty backpack), we were informed that backpacks are not allowed and we would have to take it back to the car. I nicely informed that lady this was an inconvenience but took my backpack <em>all the way</em> back to the car while Mona waited on me. In the mean time my other friends who are already in are probably wondering where I am and the concert is close to starting. </div><br /><div><br />I decided to just walk all the way back up the front of the line and not wait since I already had which made a lady behind me very angry. I told her that I had already waited for 90 minutes like she had and was sent away. </div><br /><br /><div>She didn't care. She talked ugly about me until I got through the gates. Thankfully I ignored her and didn't turn around and slap her which is what the old Susanna would have done. Only the saving grace of God turns a heart around so that I show love instead of hatred and anger. </div><br /><br /><br /><div>Taylor Swift opened the concert and really put on an interesting show. She is a unique performer and has different songs that are so catchy. </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji2QGhEPxXABc7ouctnBl7XvesY8dOxBx4CDwCJyfIJz-ZiJUAtQIU6sQXtZlz1IBqNx5OV8vZ2Z0H_jgfvr538qztF1dPEraHL6I8ZsClA07Gakwoxyf1_YjdK9_JjP5uNMGNEgyLi_yb/s1600-h/IMG_1246.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230041200235481218" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji2QGhEPxXABc7ouctnBl7XvesY8dOxBx4CDwCJyfIJz-ZiJUAtQIU6sQXtZlz1IBqNx5OV8vZ2Z0H_jgfvr538qztF1dPEraHL6I8ZsClA07Gakwoxyf1_YjdK9_JjP5uNMGNEgyLi_yb/s200/IMG_1246.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div>During the intermission we looked for my friends a few times and never did find them. Sad!! I really wanted to see them. Sorry friends!!!</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7afPBU7kOs9DgfhoVQAK2aeTL3ZNR81h07jvti-oC2Amp8YmCzvPcFqWj_KMwFOs60CuKtGHpGP4m1grZmbyN34-lqaJmNIvTX3uXkqCtnPyHUo6WjR-Z2OCONnHbo1kWEOPZ43UwJehR/s1600-h/IMG_1259.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230048975240697266" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7afPBU7kOs9DgfhoVQAK2aeTL3ZNR81h07jvti-oC2Amp8YmCzvPcFqWj_KMwFOs60CuKtGHpGP4m1grZmbyN34-lqaJmNIvTX3uXkqCtnPyHUo6WjR-Z2OCONnHbo1kWEOPZ43UwJehR/s200/IMG_1259.JPG" border="0" /></a> (they were somewhere around here...)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And then...</div><br /><div>The drum roll starts. Getting louder. And LOUDER! Fireworks shoot up from the stage, the curtain falls and there they are. Up on a lift...</div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghltFIDGjCLA9NmRH514utu88Z_o_mh0ksaejYqQeBJK1D4bzKXYxHuVZ7Hh3wuyrTBjrqHsxTjKsPhrzzHINfCoJc9JaRGZLcKPS5-IZci2q4ddkeyaaebZ7u8cH5vxJsTltZjO3OVUmY/s1600-h/IMG_1265.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230042521579948114" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghltFIDGjCLA9NmRH514utu88Z_o_mh0ksaejYqQeBJK1D4bzKXYxHuVZ7Hh3wuyrTBjrqHsxTjKsPhrzzHINfCoJc9JaRGZLcKPS5-IZci2q4ddkeyaaebZ7u8cH5vxJsTltZjO3OVUmY/s200/IMG_1265.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div>RASCAL FLATTS!!!!</div></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div>Mona and I screamed and screamed and hugged and screamed some more. We were like a two high schoolers. But that's alright because we had a blast!!!</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbN-e-bLXc2o5cLfEkv8HUpNmXNLYwHWqOt6UL8V9-9M4Yh7x7a2Ti9HK0Qkf8vsl8Xk-M1Tf9htKTIDMVI7ha9jMyhtM1Ww_Rym0DjBFU5CfvsVX03o8wuFyu28XBxyPUMM1Jtb3F4ZOC/s1600-h/IMG_1319.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230046915326181042" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbN-e-bLXc2o5cLfEkv8HUpNmXNLYwHWqOt6UL8V9-9M4Yh7x7a2Ti9HK0Qkf8vsl8Xk-M1Tf9htKTIDMVI7ha9jMyhtM1Ww_Rym0DjBFU5CfvsVX03o8wuFyu28XBxyPUMM1Jtb3F4ZOC/s200/IMG_1319.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>They sang all my favorite songs and we sang right along with them. There are few videos and much more pictures on <a href="http://facebook.com/">facebook</a> if you'd like to check them out. </div><br /><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCGWtSjofu-_055qbKcA53i706d-5WrehIzqUl_yatIY225abHcJqkzm5bsNZkrwualYdTRKGvfJPymgn66SYb151Utc-HO61ZfcQIKMvPzN6vZCws0FINXUtuXvxiJ-Z_vUzz7w68B1b/s1600-h/IMG_1323.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230043760345740514" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoCGWtSjofu-_055qbKcA53i706d-5WrehIzqUl_yatIY225abHcJqkzm5bsNZkrwualYdTRKGvfJPymgn66SYb151Utc-HO61ZfcQIKMvPzN6vZCws0FINXUtuXvxiJ-Z_vUzz7w68B1b/s200/IMG_1323.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>The crowd was really neat where we were sitting. It looked like lots of families and couples who just wanted to watch the concert. But that wasn't the case all over. It seemed like the further back you got the more, how can I tackfully say this... <em>interesting</em> the people got. I don't understand the need to dress trashy and over-indulge in drinking to have a good time. And I was sad to hear one of the group using language that they don't use in their songs and talking about girls in Atlanta in a way that they don't portray in their music. Seeing trashy people and hearing foul language was a turn off but I really enjoyed the singing. </div><br /><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkXClrnE9hTf1kC-i3iy0FpZ8-eOyPi_NO-9x7GbC5BfqPgKz5FzKsetLIgEStvFHia_1KoFIPr-teFsZwQkb0HT6Hd1l4bDatJtZjkRk2Prg-lPcNB8xBCWg9yGL6LE__PvaB5rL75b3m/s1600-h/IMG_1263.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230045759489131170" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkXClrnE9hTf1kC-i3iy0FpZ8-eOyPi_NO-9x7GbC5BfqPgKz5FzKsetLIgEStvFHia_1KoFIPr-teFsZwQkb0HT6Hd1l4bDatJtZjkRk2Prg-lPcNB8xBCWg9yGL6LE__PvaB5rL75b3m/s200/IMG_1263.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div>I had a blast and really enjoyed Mona going with me. Thanks Mona!!!<br /><br />We did leave the concert a little early to look for the tour bus with no luck. I even asked a guy behind one of the fences where they were. He pointed to the back of the amphitheatre but when I asked him if we could get back there he said no. We knew he'd say that but at least we knew where they were and tried really hard to get back there and see them. </div><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We left Atlanta in heavy traffic with big smiles on our faces, blisters on our feet, wearing Rascal Flatts t-shirts and lots of pictures and memories. I'm glad I went and owe a BIG thank you to my friend, my coworker who participated in such a fun-filled evening.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO_hFhWzWCGi4RF5x3YYo3fRsJW_BJS7PxSw1HTa6RYmXJbHjhX2vwOSnBeMjPPTljo_JIDukVqvfoSOBh0LXEXmIbquAjznfUnDAy7HrtdyspxMqH78PxQm4HxCPI9OG6_B18BPnV_DBr/s1600-h/IMG_1362.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230047215356087170" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO_hFhWzWCGi4RF5x3YYo3fRsJW_BJS7PxSw1HTa6RYmXJbHjhX2vwOSnBeMjPPTljo_JIDukVqvfoSOBh0LXEXmIbquAjznfUnDAy7HrtdyspxMqH78PxQm4HxCPI9OG6_B18BPnV_DBr/s200/IMG_1362.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4194456636492034832.post-21607461219203635572008-07-21T19:53:00.000-07:002008-07-21T20:25:08.036-07:00Grandma<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZECjhQifmtMlrnnkQO4h6KyE9gOvBoax1AKB1kiNt7scZ38-Yveo_cXLYpcBetkVsB1u9mBYIZCHfZ3GdMrIDP__F5pAICD_cUXCEUxexnQwgCf8JBUH_mA5Wcn5IlJOWpd0SeT_ICBzf/s1600-h/DSC04109.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225669357743762546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZECjhQifmtMlrnnkQO4h6KyE9gOvBoax1AKB1kiNt7scZ38-Yveo_cXLYpcBetkVsB1u9mBYIZCHfZ3GdMrIDP__F5pAICD_cUXCEUxexnQwgCf8JBUH_mA5Wcn5IlJOWpd0SeT_ICBzf/s200/DSC04109.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><strong>I'm heading off to Virginia to see my family. My grandmother passed away this weekend. She was the last of the grandparents and it seems like the end of an era since we (my immediate family and I) have been driving up to Virginia to see them for 22 years. </strong><br /><div><strong>The memories I have of this particular grandmother are many. In fact, some of my very first memories are of her. It's hard not to think about that as I try so hard to not be sad since she <em>was</em> 91 years old and is perfectly healed now but I sure do miss her already.</strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>Thankfully, she was a believer. She read her Bible every day, always prayed over every meal and with her children and grandchildren. But most importantly she was a teacher of the Word. She practiced what she preached. She taught us to love one another when we were younger and always seemed to be in some kind of tiff. She taught us to forgive each other when we felt like we were wronged. She was always ready to talk when we called and would ask <em>one </em>more question when we told her we had to say goodbye. When we packed up our car to head home after a visit, she cried and hugged us tight, making sure we knew that we had a place to stay and could stay as long as we wanted. </strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>But what I remember the most was a time when my heart was broken. I had the advice and consolation of friends and family but all there well-meaning words didn't seem to comfort my soul. When I called my grandma and told her my woes she simply said...God's in control. He wouldn't let anything happen to you or your heart that wasn't meant for your good. Just trust in Him...</strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>So simple. And it was exactly what I needed. The simple truth. Trust in Him. Isn't that the solution to so many of our problems. </strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><div><strong>That's how my grandmother was. Simple in all she did. She wasn't simple-minded by any means but what I mean is that she was a country girl and she rolled with the punches. There was no "reading into" anything in the Word...either you trust God or you don't. Same with us when we stayed at her house. Either you lied or you didn't. Either you abide by her rules or you go home. Very simple. But the funny thing is, now that I look back, her rules weren't all that rigid and easy to follow. She was such a dear woman and the impact that she made on my life will never be forgotten. </strong></div><div><strong></strong> </div><strong><div><br /> </div><div>I guess I'm rambling on and on about a lady you've never met. But she was so precious to me and I can't wait until I see her again on the other side and we can praise our Saviour together.</div><div> </div><div>Family is such a blessing, isn't it?</div></strong><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div></div>Susy-Qhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03362098011983705971noreply@blogger.com4