tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43814235884745206452024-02-18T19:46:59.733-06:00Not by MightKrista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.comBlogger586125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-14086472219565152902021-05-06T11:32:00.003-05:002021-05-06T11:32:54.244-05:00A Good Home<p>Sunrise light awakened me this morning washing my childhood bedroom walls an orangey, pinkish hue. My first thought was how many times have I done this… met a new day from this bed from which I now sit in and type? The sun comes over the pond, its arms pushing through pine trees, one very large magnolia tree, over the patch of azaleas and right into my upstairs window. This particular day, reaching me with an invitation to remember and be grateful. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5NwrK9hzAjz4g1mqSjg3xCIeAeBACehjkzWKy13Ao_ZDEqylf7Q4FPjqaafhy5NDJDfgJesIyPsUFBeBoLa9XsZhKaOv0RaTmio2nUGFSy5iiwk26cxbPxrVN5_6QyYuboLzU3XhaxSM/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5NwrK9hzAjz4g1mqSjg3xCIeAeBACehjkzWKy13Ao_ZDEqylf7Q4FPjqaafhy5NDJDfgJesIyPsUFBeBoLa9XsZhKaOv0RaTmio2nUGFSy5iiwk26cxbPxrVN5_6QyYuboLzU3XhaxSM/w480-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_520.jpg" width="480" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></a></div><br />I’ve written about home before… this home, <a href="https://not-by-might.blogspot.com/2012/11/goodbye-sweet-home.html" target="_blank">my home as a Sanders</a>… but as I realize these days, waking up in this bed, looking out this window won’t go on forever, sentiment overtakes, and I write. <p></p><p>Even though they aren’t the most admired tree, I will always love pines. My hometown was officially nicknamed, “The Millions Pines City”. If I were an amazing writer, I’d stop and research the history of this but coffee will be brewing soon downstairs and what girl has time for research when her daddy is waiting to have a cup with her? Pine trees—they feel like home and having lived in North Texas the last 28 years of my life, they are never lost on me if we are going through an area thick with them. Throw a “tank” in their midst and I can imagine home. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDY4ueJGLpmguEcvrifZ-SstGI1gRq3zNcDg_j5tdmDsj0Z-Vl9924rw7Cdrr26EI8qKoPbKFrxZCdAuafeLBdNcV7JErlA2AHKiB2d6c0tWc3xxFYccoSBc5Co5ujNeeVLSBzC-Z6OI/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDY4ueJGLpmguEcvrifZ-SstGI1gRq3zNcDg_j5tdmDsj0Z-Vl9924rw7Cdrr26EI8qKoPbKFrxZCdAuafeLBdNcV7JErlA2AHKiB2d6c0tWc3xxFYccoSBc5Co5ujNeeVLSBzC-Z6OI/w480-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_52c.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />Besides the one outside my window, we have a few more magnolia trees on our property—the largest one is back in the woods no one ever sees. My mom and I had one big adventure going to get cuttings off of it one Christmas. We basically tried to jump a creek and broke the axle on the truck, but we came back- on foot- with enough magnolia clippings to decorate the whole town. And the tree was no worse for wear, but the truck was. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdt4A-stenVXRxe2SW3Qqgw9GaNRFJGxLCVAVp3mmQJCvhnlZ2_Kk0-lYYb5mrDBmSoIspp0T106wgClmHaDKtRmp0Cbo_IjHYG87hxzdruEfy2okV-wVpSoSCDkVjcycZ50M-UN6GK3w/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdt4A-stenVXRxe2SW3Qqgw9GaNRFJGxLCVAVp3mmQJCvhnlZ2_Kk0-lYYb5mrDBmSoIspp0T106wgClmHaDKtRmp0Cbo_IjHYG87hxzdruEfy2okV-wVpSoSCDkVjcycZ50M-UN6GK3w/w480-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_526.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />The azalea patch just below my window was the backdrop of almost every Easter picture—those short-lived hot pink blooms or the Japanese maple in the courtyard-- my dad and brother in suits and my mom and me in something new. Because of this annual picture, I know that Easter was never rained out. <p></p><p>The view from my window. The memories in this house. This is a good home. </p><p>Christmases, birthdays, daily life with my family of four—the belly laughter, knock down drag outs with Blake, homework in front of the TV, sharing the phone- or rather, NOT sharing the phone, dirt bike escapades and crashes, fights for TV control, cane pole fishing, Atari, weekday dinner in the breakfast room that, as we got older, sometimes carried us straight to bedtime, missing Blake in his spot when he left for college, loving not having to share the phone with him but missing him and his antics, his friendship every day, marriages made and celebrated right here in the yard, meals that satisfied much more than just our hunger {and they certainly did that in the most delicious way}, multi-generational meals- many with both sets of grandparents around our dining room table, new members of our family embraced—by marriage, birth, and adoption, and so many parties—family friends, relatives, youth groups, drugstore family-- many of those same people filling our home, caring for us in tangible and intangible ways when we lost momma. </p><p>Maybe one of the biggest blessings is that the memories don’t stop there. Goodness, we miss her. Every day we miss her and anytime we are together, the hole is large. Not a gaping wound anymore but a very large hole and her absence is palpable. Momma easily slips in and out of all of our conversations not only because we miss her, but because her life is woven so tightly into all of ours. Her influence is all over us and in us. By God’s grace, memories to treasure are still remembered and <i><b>still being made</b></i>. Our family isn’t perfect {and Blake would argue that he’s not the problem} but we do love each other and genuinely enjoy one other’s company. Each new family member added has only compounded the richness and the fun we already experience. I can imagine there have been times when my daddy has been overwhelmed by the goodness of God even with the hardest thing in his life so far in his rear-view mirror. I have my own moments of being overwhelmed when I think about my family. To come back here, to see my dad thriving with old friends and new {making fishing reservations for 2023!!}, to see the younger ones all making home and life here, to come here and sit around a big table over an amazing meal and just sit back and listen to them all, my heart sometimes wants to explode. Full heart. A very full heart. </p><p>Today at church, four generations will be represented as my nephew’s daughter, Landry Kate, will be dedicated in our small Baptist church. My daddy’s great granddaughter—dedicated in the church he and mom joined when they moved here in 1972, in the church our weddings and funerals have taken place. This is where it all begins…and ends. With Him. RJ and Megan will commit to raising little Landry Kate in the ways of the Lord, setting an example in their own lives of what it means to follow Christ. Everything else for Landry Kate depends on that foundation. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6DnZgwj2utfgjYKSArwjY_IgcTukdvfFOGAP3fE1q2dPX3ZZ32-0Ip8_rXdZhWRVGQf2eYzdjAcgA2rngTw958HS9-mA1GLo9siQMdKPNzT_fhgifSGPcRnx2xSLypRVpLQXC1k_Q1g/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6DnZgwj2utfgjYKSArwjY_IgcTukdvfFOGAP3fE1q2dPX3ZZ32-0Ip8_rXdZhWRVGQf2eYzdjAcgA2rngTw958HS9-mA1GLo9siQMdKPNzT_fhgifSGPcRnx2xSLypRVpLQXC1k_Q1g/w480-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_525.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>The sun is fully up now. The sky, a normal blue. I get to wake up here again tomorrow—and I’ll do it gratefully while I take in whatever color sunrise He chooses. For now, I’d best get downstairs if I want that coffee with Daddy because soon, it will be time to leave for Sunday School. And we don’t want to be late for that. </p><p>He will be the sure foundation for your times, a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the Lord is the key to this treasure. Isaiah 33:6</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmENFiWsGhrNAiN3dQyXMAnhzAPLYCzArmvehyphenhyphenIDJcOV_uFWiLRBepquA9lflgiuhgrIOH_6TfrMz1CwYW0z63S3SHS7rsnTiWC__3wbKVz7X-KV176IqBuxqvy2kGgcHVR-gF0XqsJKY/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1022" data-original-width="802" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmENFiWsGhrNAiN3dQyXMAnhzAPLYCzArmvehyphenhyphenIDJcOV_uFWiLRBepquA9lflgiuhgrIOH_6TfrMz1CwYW0z63S3SHS7rsnTiWC__3wbKVz7X-KV176IqBuxqvy2kGgcHVR-gF0XqsJKY/w501-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_52a.jpg" width="501" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time with Denise- OH MY-- what a treat. </td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIbxcHzs9StBFfPzy0jB7mYpwbM1jQmsy2lztyAs_ecZlLTD8wzoVrI8Uaip1uhwQq4zhEFxdk5w5M10NpWMqq9r06EwlSO6rEkm2NSSOdb4Jy9q8ibBX9TnjEOkp-_6_6FUJFYBL7Kg/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIbxcHzs9StBFfPzy0jB7mYpwbM1jQmsy2lztyAs_ecZlLTD8wzoVrI8Uaip1uhwQq4zhEFxdk5w5M10NpWMqq9r06EwlSO6rEkm2NSSOdb4Jy9q8ibBX9TnjEOkp-_6_6FUJFYBL7Kg/w480-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_52b.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Got a little while with Jeff's momma-- what a privilege. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv6QnNWbqN49pXK4m7OjsZSR0fdLIlia-FBu2YYk56YQmYpkU73REZWWGAgrgiuv6Y8bHl7CamMjXUUR0Mp_31xOsZf5vKmZd_ejPA9gszTrlI2P9hQoDQfB1eCzN2NhTr6c7oNXbk_uA/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv6QnNWbqN49pXK4m7OjsZSR0fdLIlia-FBu2YYk56YQmYpkU73REZWWGAgrgiuv6Y8bHl7CamMjXUUR0Mp_31xOsZf5vKmZd_ejPA9gszTrlI2P9hQoDQfB1eCzN2NhTr6c7oNXbk_uA/w480-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_524.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Umm, yes, I did. I impaled this hay and then delivered it to the goat pen.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fPpNVsDTpZoOVwrYCwhAhSDL_NURJdFHDBE64Ay1kCN29b4SJV3UvERZoyp26vvtTL5_MqsSarW5tjjTrKgFevzRaYDV99jjiq85KLtlv5uS-ymu0hszWxp5uDA4bwpOY323pfpBJm4/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="665" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fPpNVsDTpZoOVwrYCwhAhSDL_NURJdFHDBE64Ay1kCN29b4SJV3UvERZoyp26vvtTL5_MqsSarW5tjjTrKgFevzRaYDV99jjiq85KLtlv5uS-ymu0hszWxp5uDA4bwpOY323pfpBJm4/w360-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_51f.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See??? Heart explosion!!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkl6qGu5znCITNlViAz3EelKrsKWGuDxlWrZLsOc1WE-urfAVWWS9eOQq2PSJUp_AijNx4V6hSFBkB7TAy9nUE5MeughxA5OZvp2mM_1Y8ZV7FKJ_Wk3nhIRwqbFoQUltPPjzv0Kff3Y/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkl6qGu5znCITNlViAz3EelKrsKWGuDxlWrZLsOc1WE-urfAVWWS9eOQq2PSJUp_AijNx4V6hSFBkB7TAy9nUE5MeughxA5OZvp2mM_1Y8ZV7FKJ_Wk3nhIRwqbFoQUltPPjzv0Kff3Y/w480-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_51e.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting to know Landry Kate little by little-- this one doesn't miss a thing.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbfFVqYvK42L4ezFDoJ9NCU-R2emKDgxw4KSGKmb9YVDwKvyriqt8WiosakgpPco4EGx6StOaDyApnDTjzlGeqWDRTKrf-6avW3x-1qjhIR3SeTr_V3GuAymOeZ47v_VrQ-Eez6Ca_EU/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="665" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbfFVqYvK42L4ezFDoJ9NCU-R2emKDgxw4KSGKmb9YVDwKvyriqt8WiosakgpPco4EGx6StOaDyApnDTjzlGeqWDRTKrf-6avW3x-1qjhIR3SeTr_V3GuAymOeZ47v_VrQ-Eez6Ca_EU/w360-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_529.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirsBjat19DZjJIP_GEZ5kj-00zUtoWpET5ikAe0-ZY1A0XrJr1H3zFGksSE7iXGXUgCrTn9HlplqFWFWelnyL8DXluixOO73ixnMvC9K8F3L8gilYIecxEMutJFDjfaH-zogyLN_1A33c/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="665" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirsBjat19DZjJIP_GEZ5kj-00zUtoWpET5ikAe0-ZY1A0XrJr1H3zFGksSE7iXGXUgCrTn9HlplqFWFWelnyL8DXluixOO73ixnMvC9K8F3L8gilYIecxEMutJFDjfaH-zogyLN_1A33c/w360-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_522.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZBbWDCs9f_zzsmrqAp6gPxnFtIQJwDH7OTwqbCXl2Im983ilbbj78EyyMg3ci_87qGVYiF9oi8DxWdauiaE_wr4bgtrYgPGpcb15sUaDUI6mgzmwrAZ1Diuq2L-v0Y9dWQ5JkJ0Qe4UA/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZBbWDCs9f_zzsmrqAp6gPxnFtIQJwDH7OTwqbCXl2Im983ilbbj78EyyMg3ci_87qGVYiF9oi8DxWdauiaE_wr4bgtrYgPGpcb15sUaDUI6mgzmwrAZ1Diuq2L-v0Y9dWQ5JkJ0Qe4UA/w480-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_523.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No one tries harder to be LK's favorite than Jason. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6m03DDBRvvq0WiKSg7bUBrk_FahDGaiNNGJJjAxQDH5bpzihxzGzST4LTIhg_3Md4K0PCEJTEt1HDEonDnI9zLEdL2eUfjUuiuxsYoJUhL3cPnQzI9Md9tONXG2ppmbZKZ7dAjRpSIYQ/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="770" data-original-width="1028" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6m03DDBRvvq0WiKSg7bUBrk_FahDGaiNNGJJjAxQDH5bpzihxzGzST4LTIhg_3Md4K0PCEJTEt1HDEonDnI9zLEdL2eUfjUuiuxsYoJUhL3cPnQzI9Md9tONXG2ppmbZKZ7dAjRpSIYQ/w640-h480/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_527.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Years of this-- tending to things. He's a faithful "tender" of many things. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><p></p>Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-30007392876559574712020-11-06T07:37:00.004-06:002020-11-06T15:28:41.717-06:00Covid is Weird and so is Posting after 2 Years<p> What kind of pseudo writer would I be if I didn’t eventually creep on here sometime in 2020. It’s certainly been awhile. I wasn’t even sure if I’d be able to find my blog… let alone, navigate posting something. I’ve thought many times of writing—not to share anything helpful or mind blowing—but about things or observations I didn’t want to forget. It’s been one, hasn’t it?</p><p><br /></p><p>We all have our different takes on the last 8 or so months… and varied experiences because of unique life stages. However, it was the sameness of the world’s experience of what we now refer to so easily as “Covid” that brought us comfort and somewhat a feeling of being unified—almost across the world. Clearly, that was a very fragile façade or possibly a worldwide web deception of the largest kind—and very, VERY short lived. But that’s too sad to dwell on here--- and really just too worn out to want to make any more comments on it. Moving on. </p><p><br /></p><p>So where were you when Covid “hit”? Where were you when you heard the NBA was cancelling the rest of the season? This is when the Sanders knew things were serious. We were sequestered away in the Rocky Mountains via the generosity of a good friend. Determined to finish a puzzle, Jeff and I had our heads down as Brighton rushed into the room with the news of the NBA. We turned the news on and I feel like we haven’t turned it off since. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0IZBaYR1e2ps7pxOgJKsxZ2y6HKw8DplwLAsjQHImSi7a_tJmOaTIN-xzB99ya60HZd74VN13cXuL0QGG7OvXn7Jx-ZDrpYq5j1VR-Tb78uf51SffxtuO75yOtV1sxqwrSOTFV9GmWEo/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0IZBaYR1e2ps7pxOgJKsxZ2y6HKw8DplwLAsjQHImSi7a_tJmOaTIN-xzB99ya60HZd74VN13cXuL0QGG7OvXn7Jx-ZDrpYq5j1VR-Tb78uf51SffxtuO75yOtV1sxqwrSOTFV9GmWEo/w480-h640/IMG_3298.HEIC" width="480" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">Pre-Covid Smiles</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlYEylhfAj-3lwZRxiE_1SSfEWoPZC4ArELgnWy2qBLrNeq05Nt5dLx9GP1yne4ojiQSuhgkjBofe38rtSmeuFLIuEGptYfSZKKDaQZVKB0je7tfk7NrEBRR-P5sOYPDiJse6BLkNGiA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1026" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlYEylhfAj-3lwZRxiE_1SSfEWoPZC4ArELgnWy2qBLrNeq05Nt5dLx9GP1yne4ojiQSuhgkjBofe38rtSmeuFLIuEGptYfSZKKDaQZVKB0je7tfk7NrEBRR-P5sOYPDiJse6BLkNGiA/w640-h480/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_36b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /></p>It’s a little humorous to remember our thoughts in March….. another week of Spring break—translated, “Another week with kids at home all day?", surely we will be back in church by Easter, the trip I have planned in June is safe, you won’t catch me wearing a mask {as I sit here nearly 8 months later on an airplane wearing one!!} Oh, how naïve our pre-Covid selves were….<p></p><p><br /></p><p>The feeling I won’t forget is being at the beginning of something no one on the planet had ever navigated or experienced. There may have been a handful of people still with us with incredible genes who were infants during the Spanish flu, but no one with any wisdom to share or lessons from failures with which to enlighten us. This feeling was weird. Add to that being a parent in it with no experience of anyone from which to draw—which actually with the dawn of the smartphone in the last decade, this wasn’t such a new feeling to me but it did just add to the perpetual floating question in my mind, “How in the world do I handle this??”. Our kids also needed questions answered and decisions made regarding their own plans.</p><p><br /></p><p>Enter the new-to-me terms “social distancing” and “shelter in place order”. Wow. Who ever thought these would become household words? I knew that this wasn’t going to be over anytime soon when I saw the first commercial that incorporated these terms with mask donning people. However, shelter in place may have been the silver lining for me. With teenage kids, I found myself missing them in their pre-Covid day to day lives. With one announcement from the White House, we were all cocooned again in our home—all day and all night. Maybe a former homeschool mom’s dream come true? I can assure you, it wasn’t a former homeschool kid’s dream come true. HOWEVER- we made up for all the dinners around the table we had been missing. We made sure we had coffee. We had porch visits with friends. We made some progress in the One Year Bible. We laughed at memes. {People are just downright funny. So thankful God made humor.} We ate Easter lunch on the porch. We helped pull off a wedding. We established Take Out Tuesday. We people watched as people walked--- and haven’t seen them since. We watched Some Good News. We went to the lake—a lot- coming to an end in one epic trip. Julia got her sewing machine out of the attic. Brighton most likely improved his Xbox skills—NOT my dream come true, but happy to give him some margin there. {“Happy” might be generous there.} I organized pictures and read lots of books. Jeff led us, kept us stocked with food, checked on people and watched Fox news. And we ALL became Tucker Carlson fans. All of that—I will miss. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDIKHKfLouXusvkn9IGD9Rc2gghrWhow9JzNeIwnUNTf5Shn7MxyMkhv3883-UOV8Y2XuWj8XwSHW4dqfQKEGnQgniztpZ7yGSgfQBPUg-eE45RB-R6wF-07w2IYyXzz88sVjhZdpLyaI/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDIKHKfLouXusvkn9IGD9Rc2gghrWhow9JzNeIwnUNTf5Shn7MxyMkhv3883-UOV8Y2XuWj8XwSHW4dqfQKEGnQgniztpZ7yGSgfQBPUg-eE45RB-R6wF-07w2IYyXzz88sVjhZdpLyaI/w640-h480/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_335.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvA4WGiuwLpJvtkoZ3u4WoYIctFlH2N5bRWKpHvlZDt2TradbkXFhURKQcMyitYKsfwlmXP6Gg7pc6uF38jMmYO5Iypy2I4FhtH3Jh5NRD__rM92R0otJ3IcYEZavhEjK7dpqQTCHmcM/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvA4WGiuwLpJvtkoZ3u4WoYIctFlH2N5bRWKpHvlZDt2TradbkXFhURKQcMyitYKsfwlmXP6Gg7pc6uF38jMmYO5Iypy2I4FhtH3Jh5NRD__rM92R0otJ3IcYEZavhEjK7dpqQTCHmcM/w480-h640/IMG_2486.HEIC" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCaTwfv6oMSxV7CKmh0SHdw-66hi7rVkHV9X797kfGUZ9KiZsq_qjIvKErsdqeLpa1Q9NwJTXjWjUtJtoYvMmcgEiUA5irEEv7WdKxJVWynx8mm95QVCoLQQQGWueny8FhzaAxphRUPv0/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCaTwfv6oMSxV7CKmh0SHdw-66hi7rVkHV9X797kfGUZ9KiZsq_qjIvKErsdqeLpa1Q9NwJTXjWjUtJtoYvMmcgEiUA5irEEv7WdKxJVWynx8mm95QVCoLQQQGWueny8FhzaAxphRUPv0/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxcUo7pH8oFCyUvxdx5yrRJTfg78R8TfYghGoGw5Onb2ngzteu59UpXy9foKS5rGYW5Ic3cLBcU0B1OzohQzUIhvOCCaQplviJEBYZLKEKXcLNeoNYXw-7Xrp8690pCtVibhNt4KvBVo/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxcUo7pH8oFCyUvxdx5yrRJTfg78R8TfYghGoGw5Onb2ngzteu59UpXy9foKS5rGYW5Ic3cLBcU0B1OzohQzUIhvOCCaQplviJEBYZLKEKXcLNeoNYXw-7Xrp8690pCtVibhNt4KvBVo/w640-h480/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_36d.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_VDucZPjVkmHdHPEJLYahSg5Fhl3I4J74tO4MlhyphenhyphenF0w4zSnK87nZKvL-YULpQcNyPYta_9vQdk9gvLAi9aATG6vlBoVAHsnliJLBuvIlfsrHJ4Rs5Ko7i-sbiaGez-b7xFL1z2i4NkAE/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_VDucZPjVkmHdHPEJLYahSg5Fhl3I4J74tO4MlhyphenhyphenF0w4zSnK87nZKvL-YULpQcNyPYta_9vQdk9gvLAi9aATG6vlBoVAHsnliJLBuvIlfsrHJ4Rs5Ko7i-sbiaGez-b7xFL1z2i4NkAE/w640-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_373.jpg" width="640" /></a><p></p><p><br />And we also had a 2020 Senior--- who bore all of the bad news with grace and dignity. Exaggeration? This mom doesn’t think so. She had a couple of moments… but they were tears, not rants. Her first tears were when she found out Camp Barnabas was cancelled. She was ready to spend two weeks there doing one of the hardest jobs I think there is—she was sad for herself, but she was equally as sad for the kids who feel normal for a week and for their parents who desperately need a break. Those were things she voiced to me. I think the second round of real tears came watching virtual graduation. {She eventually had a live one—masked and socially distanced.} Everything right up to the very present moment has been different for her than any other senior/college freshman experience. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3YcGII0f63wXMLe-dj4YXXtpy5a1aIhWn9opoilG-zIi6cTw9y9uApP-zNVnpFobiMopsC134zmPCeoi_j9_ZlFqy70yKsKLPMnbJF8kHQgWSKBkP_Wx0BDDa3UnoCOl0-pPIrmHrxjc/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3YcGII0f63wXMLe-dj4YXXtpy5a1aIhWn9opoilG-zIi6cTw9y9uApP-zNVnpFobiMopsC134zmPCeoi_j9_ZlFqy70yKsKLPMnbJF8kHQgWSKBkP_Wx0BDDa3UnoCOl0-pPIrmHrxjc/w480-h640/IMG_4587.HEIC" width="480" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqUyvYVJZ_0tTbUhhvst6VJkPda-vWvL6GTuhX7MYAKVgE6-dCkBkUGxRQvWM2PXZUTsxhQBeCWRWrZeFVqDWbnB5ZyDeFNqqpFSPGckQPhcM79T1Lf6x4Kar2ISMgMreVBi83w5FABk/" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1023" data-original-width="1024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmDw58z5yMAvFp_Qf_j64wtIi1nsh7sQLTQc0RTcDy8UOh1gT4bVVcUoLRNnlSKSFYbgdUSUB0eHIbzjqW9vCZIzkTD64kmtH3P3NOgrIzgZFxxPi4aF4kb_v1dEJlBwQdWpMfi8QxOl8/w640-h640/UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_38b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Goodness, it would have been easy for Julia—for any of us- to sink in the last several months of this history—easy to complain, to fear, to rant, to give up, to wrangle for control. But here’s the awesome part-- when literally EVERYTHING around us did change, God did not, so in the Scriptures I sought out this comfort. And guess what? Psalm 46:10 read the same as it did March, 10th 2020. So did Philippians 4:6-7 and so did Isaiah 33:6. The promises were still there. They had not been given new meanings. They had not been distanced from me or hidden in some way. They were certainly not posing some unseen threat to me—but offering peace, life, care, security—ALL of it. Our circumstances were offering NONE of it but God was offering ALL of it---- just as He always has. Pre and Post Everything. His Word delivers all that the world does not and cannot. </p><p><br /></p><p>Every. Single. Day.</p><p><br /></p><p>Today on Thursday, November 5th, I walked into Love Field to hop on a plane to go see my Georgia family and in the midst of faces mostly hidden and new signage all about, I was struck by something very normal. Christmas decorations. Traditional dark green garland and bows made of true red ribbon—the fake velvet kind, wired to hold its shape. And it made me happy. Even though I am firmly in the camp of “Let’s not hide Thanksgiving behind the Christmas tree”, the décor made me smile this morning, under my mask. It felt right—maybe that’s too generous a word also—it felt normal. Covid can’t stop the celebration of the event that divided all of history in half. God knew exactly what this half of history would hold and that we would need Jesus. And in keeping with His good character, He sent His Son. And there is NOT a word generous enough to describe that. </p><p><br /></p><p>While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. Luke 2:6-7a</p><p>But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. Galatians 4:4-5</p><p>This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins….. And we have seen and testify that the Father has sent his Son to be the Savior of the world. 1 John 4:9-10, 14</p><div><br /></div>Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-26518004074084650172018-05-13T09:26:00.003-05:002018-05-13T09:38:28.779-05:00Taken for Granted. {Mom, it's a good thing.}I’ve only been a mom for sixteen years. I lived with my parents longer than Julia has called me “Mom”. I don’t know much, do I? My mom had been a momma for 49 years before we lost her. I really don’t know anything at all. I needed a little perspective this Mother’s Day morning before I attempted to write anything on the beautiful, conflicting, wondrous, all-encompassing, heart-bursting and heart-breaking subject of motherhood.<br />
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My momma was here with us in Texas last Mother’s Day. It was a great weekend— eating out, playing cards, ballet recital, chocolate covered strawberries from Blake, reservations at Grace and pictures we took that I will treasure forever. I got to have her here many Mother’s Days because Julia’s ballet recital always fell on this weekend. I think it was for the ballet and the fact there are better places to eat out on Mother’s Day here than in Soperton. {KIDDING}. We just had no idea that we were in our last couple of months of having her here. No idea.<br />
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A month or two after she was gone, I took a two night retreat to get some thoughts down, to grieve freely if I didn’t feel I had been able to— and I cannot tell you how grateful I am that I retreated. A book I read was loaded with questions to process, to answer. And that, I can do and that, I did. I typed and typed and typed. I haven’t WANTED to go back and read any of it yet— too heavy… too something but I am glad it’s all there. This morning I did go back and scan to find this one.<br />
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This question that I didn’t think I could answer when I read it the first time actually came pretty easily as I began to type. “Who was I with my mom that I couldn't be with anyone else?”<br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: xx-small;">Simple answer but a very special one. I was her daughter. I'll never be that to another person. It's a unique relationship — unique in every way. I was her ONLY daughter. I wonder what it would have been like to have a sister— to share the role of being a daughter. But I didn't share the role. I was the only one. And that's significant. Daughters enjoy special freedoms— and privileges— with their moms. I said things to my mom that I wouldn't say to anyone else— called her at times you wouldn't call anyone else. Moms are taken for granted — sometimes in a disrespectful way but sometimes in a familiar, familial way……which is beautiful and special—there's the freedom and the privilege. To take advantage of someone because you are so secure and sure of their love for you. That's a momma. Mom wasn't a perfect mom but she was a good one. She singled me out many times— giving me "extra" things no one knew about. She didn't come out and say it but I knew it was because….. I was her daughter— and of course that made me special. Again— it's a unique relationship that you don't enjoy with anyone else. </span><br />
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My answer is not profound in any way but the statement that stands out to me is “Moms are taken for granted”. Sure, this holds mostly a negative connotation but if you are a momma, you can pull the positivity out of this and see it for the treasure it is. In good relationships, there is such a foundational undercurrent of love and commitment under and around your daughter or son, they would never, ever doubt your love or your availability or your willingness to be interrupted or your constant prayers or your willingness to do anything necessary for their best. Hopefully, to them, it’s just WHO WE ARE…absolutely taken for granted because we are their mom and they are so sure of our fierce love for them. We want them to LIVE out of that security that’s rooted so deeply in God’s love for them and us.<br />
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For sure, I took my mom for granted. However, it’s a little bittersweet on this side of things. I am beyond thankful for the love I know my mom had for me. I never thought twice about calling, texting, asking, needing, even wanting….. until she was gone. The finality of it all still sucker punches my heart from time to time. How I hope she knew my “taking her for granted” was one of the highest compliments she could ever be paid. I knew. I KNEW. I enjoyed a wonderful thing.<br />
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For 47 years, I was her daughter and she was my momma. Deeply grateful this morning.<br />
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Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-30736751626301516642018-04-17T14:37:00.000-05:002018-04-17T14:37:21.931-05:00{Goodbye to} Driving Miss Julia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I much prefer the infant carrier. Turned around backwards. With the plastic keys dangling—you know, the ones that played “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round”. Those were just fine with me even if I did sing that dumb song in my sleep. Real live working keys in her hand? Not so much. I mean, just flipping her around front ways was revolutionary. I could finally make eye contact with her sweet face in the rear view mirror and I remember thinking, “I am the one who gets to see that cutie every day.” Besotted I was…{and am}. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">{Poor quality here has everything to do with momma trying to make sure she didn't get run over!}</span></div>
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Then, there were the boosters that allowed a little more freedom and a few more toddler perks with their little pockets and cupholders. These were fun days and inspired many of my “From the Backseat” posts. We discussed almost anything that caught her fancy as we drove by or random-ness that passed through her mind. I could be driving along thinking about ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, relishing in the quiet, buckled-in moment and then she’d ask about the <a href="http://not-by-might.blogspot.com/2011/06/from-backseat-17-chromosomes.html" target="_blank">origin of her chromosomes</a> or the theology behind the lingering <a href="http://not-by-might.blogspot.com/2008/04/from-backseat-4-old.html" target="_blank">“old in my heart” </a>or the preference for <a href="http://not-by-might.blogspot.com/2011/10/from-backseat-18-promises.html" target="_blank">God’s Word over Dove’s chocolate promises.</a> Good stuff, people. This was what you got when there wasn’t any “glow face” back there. Thoughts and questions ran rampant, flowed freely… and thus really great conversations whether you wanted them or not. Ha! Those were the days. <br />
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Then, one day she was riding shotgun.<br />
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I learned every angle of her lovely profile. And posture. Mommas can read a lot by just those two things— face and form— and then we know how to ease into the conversation. Or not. Car time is golden time. Money in the bank? Maybe. A few years it was both of them—J in the front, B in the back—but the last couple of years with different school start times and ending times, I have had her all to myself, just about every day. I had come to count on those times with her because we rarely had that kind of privacy. I knew she would feel more freedom to speak her heart and mind and I knew I had a captive audience. I saved many harder parenting things I might need to say for these times. I would wait until that short car ride with just her. Again, privacy AND there was a clear cut- off time where she knew this tough conversation wouldn’t go on forever. It only dawned on me about six months ago that this time was coming to an end…like I haven’t known that for 16 years… so tell me, why did I forget? Why did I think that Driving Miss Julia around town would go on forever? That I would always have this time with her— snippets as they may be? It’s a bummer.<br />
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In our no flaws, brilliant parenting style {please <i>hear</i> the eye roll}, Jeff had told her that he would match whatever she saved for a car. I agreed with him but wondered how this would go. She’s a homebody. {And I say that with great affection}. When you are 15, it’s hard to make much money and never leave the house. If she could make money reading books, trying on outfits, journaling, practicing with make-up and cheers or scrolling Instagram, she’d be driving a Tesla right now. {And I say all of that with great affection too. She’s not shallow. She’s a teenager.} The closer we got to the sweet sixteen, I was feeling pretty secure in my chauffeur hat thus my time left for more conversations with her to and from. When she got her drivers license, her bank account was sorely lacking. She could have bought a middle of the road bicycle. And a good helmet. Insert thumbs up emoji here. I was like, DRIVE ON, MOMMA. <br />
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Enter a very Ephesians 3:20 moment. On Easter Sunday. And in case you haven’t read it in a while, here it is: “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.” Did any of us ever ASK God for a car for Julia? Did we even IMAGINE that she could get one a different way than having her daddy match what she earned? We didn’t ask it, think it or even imagine it -not even on a really good day. But God did. So, therefore, Kelly Nix did. Julia’s new keys DON’T play a song. They ignite the ignition of a very cute car. It’s as old as she is but it’s a very cute car. And yes, I had to overcome any fear I had about a convertible. I have no idea why God entrusted a convertible to her. However, He does not owe me an explanation.<br />
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Y’all. Kelly gave her a CAR. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">{I can't believe we don't have a picture with Kelly but I will update later with one.}</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">{Her friend, Collette, helping her clean it all up.}</span></div>
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Sure, she and her daddy have worked out all the details— what she’s responsible for and what she’s not. It will be interesting what her need for cash will drive her to do…. Work, perhaps? I know Julia. She will figure it out and make it just fine. <br />
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This driving thing is certainly liberating for me but at the very same time terrifying. It is just one more opportunity to release any pseudo-control I thought I once may have had over my child— also known as another opportunity to “Trust in the Lord with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding.” I am becoming convinced that our lives are made up of a bunch of those opportunities… one after another. <br />
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So {Goodbye to} Driving Miss Julia. I will miss our time together. I’ll miss those set times in the car but trust we will figure out how to get all those Very Important Conversations in another way. In the meantime, I'll be stalking you on this phone -- this thing I love to hate and hate to love. I consider it my BFF when you drive away from our home with your REAL keys in your REAL car. Just you make sure those wheels don't go 'round and 'round too fast. <br />
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Because then you will be back to riding shot gun with me again! <br />
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<br />Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-21892228049798632532018-04-07T16:01:00.000-05:002018-04-07T16:25:54.700-05:00Interruptions are not Efficient {A Sad Confession}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, Happy Spring. Every season is my favorite when it starts….. Texas is a little tricky though. The starts are short— or long— depending on which one it is. Spring is probably the most bi-polar if we can attach that label to a season. It plays hide and seek starting somewhere in late January then summer interrupts the game and lasts until, oh, about Thanksgiving. Today it will be around 80 and tomorrow the high is 45. Hide and seek.<br />
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I taught my last lesson of Bible study last night for the year and there is a relief and a sadness that always comes. Relief that the work of studying is over and a sadness that the work of studying is over. I have college to thank for revealing the study geek in me. I had to study in high school to get the grades but by college and certainly by pharmacy school, I discovered I really enjoyed it. Going into full geek mode at the Science Library at UGA was my happy place. People knew where to find me and when I didn’t want to be found, I would hide. Sometimes it worked and typically the tenacious seekers were a welcome break— especially the ones who brought me cheese on wheat crackers from the vending machine downstairs. I got a certain energy from learning in college as I do now but honestly, it helps to have something to push me— something to work towards. I won’t have the deadlines of teaching to push me these next few months.<br />
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Studying to teach is a reflection of one kind but I miss reflecting on other areas in my life— which I tend to shoo away when I have a deadline coming up, a mind consuming list in front of me or I just don’t care to reflect on the thick atmosphere we sometimes have here in our home with teenagers trying to figure out life and parents trying to figure out teenagers. Deadlines and to do lists seem to rob my body of any possible light-heartedness. My family loves this about me as you can well imagine. I wrestle with it almost every day and most of the time, unfortunately, some poor soul that lives here has to point it out to me before I realize I am plowing ahead with my head down getting it done, daring anyone to interrupt me because what I am doing is paramount. And poor, POOR soul if they choose to reveal this about me when I am hungry, behind or in my own little world- and their presence startles me. I know you can relate, so I won’t belabor this. But no matter my task, 100% of the time the person is right. Thumbs down—because I like to be the one that’s right 100% of the time. Life just goes better for me that way. But alas….. not going to happen… so. I RARELY welcome an interruption. I find it interesting how in all my 2018 pride, I think life is so much more complicated and hectic and distracting than any generation before me and then I come across this heart poking paragraph written close to 150 years ago!<br />
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“I think I find most help in trying to look on all the interruptions and hindrances to work that one has planned out for oneself as discipline, trials sent by God to help one against getting selfish over one’s work. Then one can feel that perhaps one’s work— ones’ work for God- consists in doing some trifling haphazard thing that has been thrown into one’s day. It is not a waste of time, as one is tempted to think, it is the most important part of the work of the day— the part one can best offer to God. After such a hindrance, do not rush after the planned work; trust that the time to finish it will be given sometime , and keep a quiet heart about it.”<br />
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Thus, Elisabeth Elliot’s classic book Keep a Quiet Heart was penned. And even she is quoting Annie Keary who lived from 1825-1879. Seriously? Yes. Seriously. And I bet Annie could outwork all of us put together.… with a gracious smile and hands folded in front of her apron. I wiki’d her for about 2 minutes and I promise you, she knows all about “interruptions and hindrances”. More than we can imagine. I, in 2018, am not all that special…. to think that things have just ramped up for me. My struggle is a very old struggle. And reading it here from, like 1850, puts my “struggle” in perspective for me.<br />
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I rewrote her statement in my talk— It’s beneficial to look at any interruption and hindrance to my day’s agenda as challenges sent by God to remind me not to hold on to my own agenda too tightly. Then if something seemingly insignificant pops up in my day, I can consider it exactly what the Lord had planned for me that moment, the most important thing to which I could give myself. Trust God to give me the time to finish any work that needs to be done.<br />
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To see a “trifling haphazard thing” as the “most important part of the work day— the part one can best offer to God” does NOT come naturally for me. And that’s an understatement. I barely have a category for that kind of thinking but I DO HAVE ONE, it just usually stays empty. Until the “poor soul” points it out. I am truly trying to have that mindset. To see my agenda as optional and to look out for more important things that do pop up in my day and to choose “no” to my “work [I] have planned out”. AND KEEP A QUIET HEART ABOUT IT.<br />
Which I read to say— don’t whine about it. If I give myself to the “interruption” aka “the most important part of the work of the day”, I am not to whine about all I didn’t accomplish on my mighty list.<br />
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It’s so embarrassing but this is what I do…. I feel interrupted and aggravated then if I do give in then I am frustrated at my lack of productivity WHY DO I DO THIS? How long have I known this? Too long but as they say, not long enough, apparently.<br />
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A good friend gave me the book by Alan Fadling, <u>The Idol of Efficiency</u> She has to be a good friend to know I needed to read this book and I am grateful to my core she had the courage to give it to me. Here are some of my take aways after reading the book:<br />
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In what ways does my hurry {my efficiency} harm others instead of helping them?<br />
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I surely don’t want to be known as unlovingly efficient— getting much done but with no love.<br />
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Relationships are messy but not very efficient.<br />
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I don’t want to be efficient in managing tasks but unloving in the process.<br />
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What if I had to lower my personal standards of productivity in order to be more loving and more available?<br />
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Be willing to become a less job efficient and a more open to interruptions {new opportunities to love}.<br />
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Ouch, ouch and ouch. Does anyone feel it like I do? These are just great reminders and I do refer to them often—praying all the while the Spirit who is alive and work within me will remind me of simple Truths that, if I choose to obey, will keep my paths straight. No, I don’t always understand His ways— His interruptions or hindrances- to what I think is best, but that is where He calls me to trust in Him with all my heart. My understanding is limited and flawed. {Proverbs 3:4-6} An openness and lighthearted attitude regarding my tasks would be a welcome gift to my family.<br />
Lord, truly. help me.Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-44125063885655569502018-01-31T16:13:00.000-06:002018-04-07T16:20:14.948-05:00January Things<br />
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{A few January things I don't want to forget...}</div>
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The only picture I took when we got away to pray after the New Year. Jeff is faithful to get us out of town if for just 24 hours to refocus and put our weaknesses, needs and gratitude before the Father. And don't think I didn't make this night of sleep on a futon a matter of prayer. I was amazed they made it through the night. Sharing a bed has been a potential vacation ruin-er for us.<br />
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Well, they tried REALLY hard. It was fun to make it to the National Championship even if we lost it. The interview of the Alabama quarterback made the loss a LITTLE easier but the Thompson guy needed a old fashioned spanking and a firm sit down. Goodness. Thanks to my friends who came over to WATCH football and witness my pacing. You were the perfect distraction. My favorite moment was when ALL the kids came running down the stairs near the end when we thought the tide had turned.<br />
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Julia landed on her head at cheer practice one night and was diagnosed with a concussion. Crazy-- all that. So....... after sitting out of practice and then being cleared by her doctor, she had to do 3 days of "return to play" drills at school. The last day was run 3 miles and 400 yards of wind sprints. We did it together because like Julia told me YEARS ago-- almost anything is fun when you do it together. <br />
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We took the kids ice skating to stretch our break-- or get out of the house. Which one? Grateful for friends who are up for almost anything and we missed the gals who couldn't make it happen!<br />
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Julia's first cheer competition and so glad we had the Wilson girls for support. Hmm... wondering if Basden will try out or not....</div>
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The days are flying by. Grateful for the days or nights we are all at home together. Time won't slow down. No matter what I say. And I haven't even told you she turned 16 this month....</div>
Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-32480447211022928882018-01-13T14:01:00.001-06:002018-04-07T16:19:32.366-05:00Rambling.... into 2108I just ordered my 2015-2016 blog book. 2015….so long ago…. There were technical and preferential issues as to why it’s so late but I won’t go into all that. But my ninth 7x7 hardback book is on its way and that makes me happy. Scanning posts and pictures as I was arranging them on the pages just caused me to remember how much I love having a small record of what is going on….because we forget SO much. And even now, as I sit to write many months and moments have transpired I don’t even know where to start. {I realize I say this EVERY time!} So today, right now seems a logical place to begin….<br />
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My house is quiet and there is a fire beside me. I am sitting in one of my Grandmother’s chairs I’ve had recovered a couple of times.… after my mom did and after my Grandmother did. It’s my winter spot. The kids just went back to school this week— on Tuesday — and I wound up working that day so Wednesday after a morning meeting, I came home to a quiet house and this note by the fireplace:<br />
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Jeff knew I had been struggling. Oh, I told him but I didn’t NEED to tell him. He could see it all over my being. My social introverted self was about to implode. My social meter had gone “boing” and was dangling inside the glass. There is NOT ONE THING to complain about. Our Christmas was absolutely wonderful— full of family, traditions, our road trip, yummy food, friends— and some really great and not so great Georgia football. The hard part is finding recharge time— down time— a bit of solitude— breathing room— just a little bit of space. And sometimes you don’t realize how bad off you are until you are in the middle of a stupid argument with your 14 year old. You think, “What is wrong with me? I just picked this fight and I don’t even care about the outcome!” I KNOW my family is tired of me when I get to that point because I AM TIRED OF ME too. And here is where I get to practice walking in the Spirit when my flesh is screaming for me to just please itself. Sometimes the practice goes well and sometimes I give in to me. So today, it’s quiet. And I get to work on my Bible study. I get to go through the stack by my computer. I get to read by this fire. I get to type some thoughts down. And I am so thankful. I just texted Jeff and told him I was feeling better by the hour. ; )<br />
Side note: It's kindnesses like these that I need to offer more. Kindness goes such a long way.... heals hurts, breaks down tension, fuels further kindnesses, grows love into something with depth and character. I am grateful for a thoughtful husband.<br />
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At some point, like when the kids won’t care, I want to document this parenting journey— the tweener years into the teenage years— because it has been so surprising to me. Stuff happens faster than you can blink and some things you don’t ever think to prepare them for because you would have never thought it might be an issue and if you did, you didn’t think it was time yet. I feel like I was blindsided in the tweener years and was NOT prepared for their doing exactly what I had prepared for them NOT to do. Ha! That should make any parent with kids over 10 laugh! But here we are in this house—at 14 and 16 {next week}— and every day is different. The schedule is different, the emotions are different, the moods are different, the needs are different. I guess the same can be said of any age of kids, but I think with teenagers, it’s all just BIGGER. They are premature adults trying to figure things out as everything seems to be changing — not to mention what we’ve learned with all the new brain research. {It’s a wonder any of us made it out of the teenage years! The “teenage brain really IS a thing!}<br />
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My favorite times with them is when a real conversation starts— criteria for “real”— something that matters and the child you know you are raising is doing the talking— not some persona they are hoping to keep up so kids think they are cool until they realize how foolish it is to have this “other persona” and give it up— which calls for celebrations of the largest kind. I love those moments and they happen mostly around the dinner table or when I have one of them by themselves. Sidenote— like this whole post isn’t— The power of the “dinner table” is undoubtedly underrated. It’s so true that good things happen around the table— not EVERY night {and who has a schedule that can make that happen?} but even if you get “magic” one out of ten, then the mashing of potatoes was worth it. Cook the dinner. Set the table. Sit down. Without phones. “Make it happen” is what I tell myself around 4. The effort will pay off.<br />
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I am so rambling….then there are the irrelevant conversations you have over text with your teenage girl who decides at school the day BEFORE the cheer competition that she is pale and needs a spray tan. These words have never been uttered by her before. She was booked until 8:30 or 9 that night and she leaves for school at 7:00 am the next morning and leaves from school at lunch for the competition. When I read the text, I was like, well, this will be easy. I don’t have to say yes or no, I can just ask her “When?”and she will answer the question herself. But of course, there is a girl on the squad that OWNS a tan sprayer and they are going over there AFTER their pre-competition dinner that night. It’s not important how all that ended but it’s conversation you engage and then hopefully she trusts you the next day with saying something like, “I don’t feel pretty” when she really doesn’t feel pretty and you get to share words of life, hope and Truth. Over text. Of course. I’ll take the words any way I can get them.<br />
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Then there’s B who is an idea a minute with his words. Nothing like Brighton Sanders has made me want a driver more— or maybe a planner who can keep track of it all and do all the texting back and forth with other moms to make it happen! He wants to be going and doing and seeing at every tick of the clock. He’s always got a plan, making a plan, working a plan—- or thinking up the next plan before the present one is carried to completion. He could employ his own driver. I am amazed by how much time we could spend driving him around— AND it begins to make you LONG for a driver when you are really terror-stricken to let them drive. I don’t think I’ll ever do this but it makes you understand why sometimes parents use Uber for their kids. Kind of. However, I won’t forget ONE of the Saturdays he was ‘chained’ to the house—- not really but to hear him talk about it…. BALL and CHAIN…. Around 4 o’clock, he leaned over the couch where I was reading and said, “You know, Mom, it really hasn’t been all that bad being here today.” Well. I may or may not have rolled my eyes before I turned and said, “Home is not such a bad place to be. I’m glad you were home today.” And I really was.<br />
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And that’s where I find myself this morning in a much needed quiet place— recharging for the people I love the most. They truly do get the worst of me when I honestly want them to get the best of me. I know my weakness but I also know His strength and I trust that always, always, always, His grace is sufficient for me. {<a href="http://9%20But%20he%20said%20to%20me,%20%E2%80%9CMy%20grace%20is%20sufficient%20for%20you,%20for%20my%20power%20is%20made%20perfect%20in%20weakness.%E2%80%9D%20Therefore%20I%20will%20boast%20all%20the%20more%20gladly%20about%20my%20weaknesses,%20so%20that%20Christ%E2%80%99s%20power%20may%20rest%20on%20me./" target="_blank">2 Corinthians 12:9</a>} Especially on the days I am the worst version of myself.Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-13809088425604461632017-12-25T22:34:00.000-06:002018-01-15T14:55:11.797-06:00Christmas Letter 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As I was addressing cards just now, I thought of you as I wrote your name and little things I wish I could say just to you— but it was only your envelope and I think writing on the outside of an envelope is considered tacky… by someone… or at least a “no-no” by the post office. So…. since I will most likely NOT get that personal little thought written on your card, I’ll say something personal right now. What is this life without relationships? You people to whom we send these cards — family, friends- past and present— you have added and are adding ABUNDANCE to our lives. When Jesus said in John 10:10, “I came that they may have LIFE, and have it abundantly”, well, YOU are the abundance for us. More than ever, especially since we lost my sweet momma this summer, I am convinced that the abundance of life He meant for us is FILLED with people to love and people to love us. I’ll take this opportunity to THANK YOU one more time for all the kindness shown and care given to our family over these months. I think I can speak for my whole family— we are overwhelmed by you. You are making this journey of grief tolerable, and even sweet, as you love on all of us and remember with us what a delight my momma was to so many. Thank you. Two words have never fallen so short.</div>
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This year, we became official parents of TWO teenagers. Crazy. Julia dropped piano, added cheer {?!?!?!!?- I’ll leave it at at that} and sadly can’t make ballet work even though she still wants to continue. She filled her summer with some really great things, got her learner's license {another ?!?!?!?!?}, made some new friends and decided she wanted to work hard in school. Brighton kept piano, decided to try out for quarterback {got second string}, became a teenager, started a pressure washing business, chose some really great friends and grew a mop of hair. Some of these things matter. Some of them don't but I love that my kids are seeing things and deciding to go for it—whether it be activities, certain friends, mission trips, a position on the team, grades etc. So I fight to hear what they are saying through all of these choices. I fight to engage them in the busyness of back and forth and to and from. I want to hear their thoughts that lead them to these places. I fight to create the space that's "large" enough so they feel there's room to hear them in the fullness of a day. Car time, kitchen time, table time, after bed-time, texting time, retreat time, homework time, couch time— I’ll take it wherever I can get it!</div>
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Jeff has made the transition to Christ Together as Associate Director. Christ Together is doing on a national level what Jeff has been doing here in Fort Worth for the last 17 years— to be a catalyst to unify the evangelical churches in our city in order to give every man, woman and child multiple opportunities to see, hear and respond to the gospel. He will continue to provide leadership and support locally as we both love this city and the churches that serve it. </div>
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Me? I write Christmas letters and drive kids around. </div>
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Merry, merry Christmas to you. We are grateful for each one of you. I pray you fight to create a space large enough this Christmas to ponder the wonder of this Story we celebrate. To elaborate on the hymn, O Holy Night, when He made His first appearance as a human, beginning another chapter in the Great Rescue, His desire was for our souls to FEEL their worth, to KNOW how much He loves us and how “WITH us” He wants to be. He came. He’s here. He’s with us. </div>
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<br />Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-31040187685343848552017-11-20T08:58:00.000-06:002017-11-20T09:25:48.226-06:00For This, I'm GratefulThe first words are always the hardest— whether you are walking into a room full of strangers, preparing to speak in front of a group or writing a post….. which I am attempting. I am feeling the time— the time that spans between writing— and it discourages me from doing this. However, I am stubborn enough to keep trying because I realize how quickly life spins, how days run together, how things can fall through the memory cracks and we miss lingering on the goodness and the giving of thanks. So maybe that's a good place to start. Giving thanks.<br />
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Momma's passing has made these months unique in the sense that many things are just different. Even though I've lived 1000 miles from her for many years, there's a hole in my life, in my thoughts and even in some routines like calling her when I hop in the car to go pick Julia or Brighton up. My daddy and I felt it when he came for a visit and when I went to visit him but here's the blessing. The hole she left is enormous but what she left behind is more than enough to fill those holes we feel— different than before but filled. We have memories to retell and even memories to discover. Her influence on me and those close to her is strong so we experience her impact often. And the love. I can't say enough about this— not only the love she had for each one of us and the particular ways she expressed it, but the love that surrounds our family- God's love which is more than enough but by His grace, we love each other and are loved by friends and family far and near. All of this… this is what fills the hole- the memories, the influence and the love. For this, I am grateful.<br />
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Jeff and I celebrated 25 years of marriage— that's a big deal, right? I think that constitutes a little lingering. When I met Jeff in the summer of 1990, I hadn't yet turned 20 and had even fewer notches on the maturity belt. But the defensive tackle from Furman stole my heart with his talk of God and His grace and I and my faith have never been the same. Twenty five years under his leadership has been anything but stagnant or stale— even though there would have been times, in my stubbornness, I would have welcomed stagnant. He keeps our eyes on the future while making for much fun in the present. For him, for this, I am grateful.<br />
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Summer ended and then school began……and this week before Thanksgiving we get a breather. But these school days are where the days spin — and you wake up and it's Monday again. This is where I struggle— struggle to keep focused on what matters. I KNOW how important that is— I VALUE family time, teachable moments, dinner at the table, having ready ears for ALL of the words— but many of these days just seem to dissolve into each other and the weariness wins out. This I fight. Some days I fight harder than others. This year, Julia dropped piano, added cheer and sadly couldn't make ballet work either even though she STILL wants to, got her learner's license, made some new friends and decided she wanted to work hard in school. Brighton kept piano, decided to try out for quarterback {got second string}, chose some really great friends and hasn't decided yet if he wants to make good grades. Some of these things matter. Some of them don't but I love that my kids are seeing things and deciding to go for it—whether it be activities, certain friends, a position on the team, grades. So I fight to hear what they are saying through all of these choices. I fight to engage them in the busyness of back and forth and to and from. I want to hear their thoughts that lead them to these places. I fight to create the space that's "large" enough so they feel there's room to hear them in the fullness of a day. Car time, kitchen time, table time, after bed-time, texting time, retreat time, homework time, couch time. For these, I am grateful.<br />
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This week we are coming off of 20 days with only one night with all four of us under the same roof. There were just some scheduling things we could not do any differently. Jeff and I go home today after a postponed celebration of our 25th and we are excited to be with our kids this week. We have some new fun planned along with our normal traditions of the week. We have one of our favorite families joining us for Thanksgiving which makes my heart SO HAPPY. But today this homebody is thrilled to have the week in front of her with the three people I love the most spread all throughout it. We have more fun to have, more people to host, more things to bake, more thanks to give, more love to share, more apples to wash, more caramel to melt, more fires to build and more memories to make.<br />
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For this, I am grateful.<br />
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These are some pictures that totally messed up but are too fun not to share. We took them this summer while we were in the Pacific Northwest and my settings were all WRONG but they are too funny not to share and remember.<br />
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Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-8268478651021250002017-10-24T19:29:00.000-05:002018-02-26T10:40:03.438-06:00A Letter to a 14 Year Old Boy: Brighton's Birthday Letter 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mount Ranier 6/2017</span></div>
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Dear Brighton,<br />
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You can just go ahead and get used to it. I will say it every year, just with a new number. How is it that you are fourteen already? Nothing in life prepares me for how fast you little jabbers grow up. I see pictures of you just a year ago and you look like a completely different kid… umm, excuse me, young man.<br />
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I do try to keep these birthday letters honest so I just want to get this stuff out of the way…. You and I both know this last year hasn’t been OUR best. Not your, but our. We’ve had some great times, some good days and even some sweet moments {I am your Momma. I can say things like that.} but tension has been high many days and I know as sure as you will always choose chocolate mint ice cream that there have been many days you would have rather been somewhere else rather than here at home. I own my part in that and I hope you will own yours, but you know what? It’s part of being a family— working things out, loving each other through the tension, you pushing back, us pushing right back, doing things we love and doing things we don’t really enjoy. It’s all very normal but sometimes it’s just not a lot of fun. We have to understand that this —our home and our living out “family”— is a training ground for all of us but my favorite part is that it is a SAFE training ground. We can mess up here BIG time and yet, know we will be loved no matter what. We can be so irritated and frustrated with one another but at the end of the day, we are loved, accepted and most likely willing to give or be given a hug….. or a back scratch. I hope you find great security in that. I do. Because I mess up often.<br />
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Big B, you make up 1/4 of our family. Your personality, your way of doing things, the manner in which you process life, your sense of humor— ALL of it goes into the identity of our family. You help make us who we are. Without you, we lose some pretty great things. You love music and you love to dance— some pretty crazy dances that almost always make me laugh {Asian Hula} but then you like to spin me around to Glen Miller when I least expect it. I promise NEVER to be too busy for that. {Just ignore my resistance.} You love to laugh and when you are feeling good about life and your place in it, you make some pretty funny comments. {“You just wrecked my 3 seconds of fame!”} You are still a thinker even though right now, you don’t give yourself to it very often but when you do, you ask good, hard questions. When you give yourself to listening, you can make some pretty mature observations. I enjoy talking WITH you when you are just yourself— not trying to get some reaction out of me. {You little stinker.}. But your one-fourth is dear to me— what you add to the mix of the Sanders is special and critical to who we are as a family. I am proud to claim you as ours.<br />
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Let’s just say a couple of things about Middle School….. can I just say, I think we need to have a celebration of the largest variety come June 1st!! {I might just work on that.}. I am so ready for the pond to be bigger, for there to be more kids to throw into the mix…. It has not been easy, has it? You’ve said and done some things you wish you hadn’t. Others have done stuff to you that made me want to go up there and sit a few boys down. On the sunnier side, I am thankful for a handful of kids there who have been kind, forgiving and inclusive. You DO have some faithful friends and we need to always be grateful for that. One story we don’t want to forget is the Phone Heist— counterfeit money, the police officer and anonymous tips. All in a day at middle school. {This was actually AFTER you turned 14 but I didn't want to forget it!}<br />
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You lost your Nana this year and you were there. I know it was NOT by accident, B. God wanted you there because Papa needed you that week. And in some special way, Nana did too. She didn’t want to leave Papa alone. You had a role to play because you are their grandson. I am so glad you asked to go — I feel it was you being obedient to the Holy Spirit within you to ask us. <br />
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The thing I want the most for you and that’s always closest to my heart is the kind of heart I want you to have. I will be the first to admit, I can’t pass something on to you that I do not have myself. So much of what I want to pass on to you is still being formed in my own heart and life— but I am trying to live it out— the process of becoming more like Christ- in front of you. You’ve seen my sin in living color and my great need for a Savior. I can only hope you are keenly aware of your great need for a Savior too. His gift of salvation is not something to take lightly— He has placed His Spirit in your heart so that you can do what you have no power to do on your own— to choose purity, dignity, honor, righteousness and Truth. This is the foundation of Wise William— NOT Foolish Fred. {Couldn’t help the throwback…} This is the foundation of rocks— NOT sand. This is the foundation of wisdom—- NOT foolishness. This you can build a life on. And this you can count on.<br />
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I desire your heart to honor authority. I pray your heart learns the honest balance between authority, responsibility and accountability— that great leaders recognize that <u>respect</u> is gained when all three of these are treated as valuable as the other.<br />
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I’ll close with some Scripture because this, I know, will last. 2 Corinthians 10:3-5 says “For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”<br />
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I know you have battles presently and you will have many battles ahead. I challenge you to think of these verses remembering that you fight- empowered by the Holy Spirit- with Truth, with a personal track record of a faithful God, with the knowledge of the Gospel which offers hope and life to all. Fighting with human argument powered by pride and arrogance— and sometimes ignorance— will only fail in the long run and you’ve accomplished nothing at all, especially no sort of victory you can enjoy. Some of your battles will be from without {from the world around you} but most of them will be from within. Your thoughts are not always true, B, and I want you to recognize the lies and demolish them with the Truth. Give your time to learning the Truth about who God made you to be and what His purposes for you are. These Truths are worth fighting for, worth waging a war for….. Fight for the Truth. Live in the Truth.<br />
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You have what it takes, B.<br />
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I love you. More than you’ll ever know.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Some Star Wars movie, I am sure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">You are my tradition keeper. Thanks for stringing the popcorn, B! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Christmas jammies</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The John Cena phase I am rejoicing that is OVER. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">You are loved by cousins.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Tejas, y'all. Rodeo-ing.... In Vineyard Vines.... What has happened?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Canoeing St. Elena Canyon between Texas and Mexico-- the Rio Grande</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWihULm3N82WB2Fv1FCtBUVt5Oo0dCdZ-gl2vxlExUEBCaVG-4Zl9K3binhSji-B-HkVKm1t1m_lsPREErGTJJZoGuQyIWTyTWhBpTQlEwRDai7OyJhosxjRtYrImAG-ILBUiUZnuota8/s1600/IMG_6225.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWihULm3N82WB2Fv1FCtBUVt5Oo0dCdZ-gl2vxlExUEBCaVG-4Zl9K3binhSji-B-HkVKm1t1m_lsPREErGTJJZoGuQyIWTyTWhBpTQlEwRDai7OyJhosxjRtYrImAG-ILBUiUZnuota8/s320/IMG_6225.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimwAY8H3VjQab6pJ7KOZTAvFS731mtu_c84BqJB90K1oYSECht4bwDwYELfjvNtTQgHgrAcOl6TC1wCK8nLU3axBYUvM8Guo5JdVsow287pHHNEWe9AXsyyUTlu09jjojqTu3tNbTO2Ms/s1600/IMG_6744.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimwAY8H3VjQab6pJ7KOZTAvFS731mtu_c84BqJB90K1oYSECht4bwDwYELfjvNtTQgHgrAcOl6TC1wCK8nLU3axBYUvM8Guo5JdVsow287pHHNEWe9AXsyyUTlu09jjojqTu3tNbTO2Ms/s320/IMG_6744.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">My favorite haircut. Your least favorite haircut.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrZ8_SzkotWJFWkxMggMrEOdWyePkQqwsVTw3Y0GvUrwQihPEcILpJ4jqeORyKewP9AfkoOZjgghz_Rattr1c3c1ooRaOm3ufcXrfMWB3hyphenhyphenuvoJuhHCR_R3iAN6DF6cTfUyllrMzXEA10/s1600/IMG_6754.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrZ8_SzkotWJFWkxMggMrEOdWyePkQqwsVTw3Y0GvUrwQihPEcILpJ4jqeORyKewP9AfkoOZjgghz_Rattr1c3c1ooRaOm3ufcXrfMWB3hyphenhyphenuvoJuhHCR_R3iAN6DF6cTfUyllrMzXEA10/s320/IMG_6754.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I don't care what y'all say-- you love each other. It will show more regularly at some point.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAQnK29Prz5NamrLKI1_JD0YYB8YgG0U39KafAjyBhvQLZoYuhix2Asa-BdrT9GFS-ee4krirodM0iFFWAoO5ACoZFtLIE8AKsoCEdYA5-TGEVMqjYX95nhb-RLonmghVlbBFii8CoZQ/s1600/IMG_7011.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAQnK29Prz5NamrLKI1_JD0YYB8YgG0U39KafAjyBhvQLZoYuhix2Asa-BdrT9GFS-ee4krirodM0iFFWAoO5ACoZFtLIE8AKsoCEdYA5-TGEVMqjYX95nhb-RLonmghVlbBFii8CoZQ/s320/IMG_7011.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8j-vBROVCyKc4s7x5DUK4jLmf9zvnpPWVGGr4GAI6qzQnVlkLxByFR5g1-O7sYENIo3ZNlIOody7RBhK6bXHzw9qSxjfYM83Luhzvdr3WIqSHVHXCA21NQsnI0mW5OnUb8jfbveRVHt0/s1600/IMG_7073.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8j-vBROVCyKc4s7x5DUK4jLmf9zvnpPWVGGr4GAI6qzQnVlkLxByFR5g1-O7sYENIo3ZNlIOody7RBhK6bXHzw9qSxjfYM83Luhzvdr3WIqSHVHXCA21NQsnI0mW5OnUb8jfbveRVHt0/s320/IMG_7073.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Framily.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8gAV8yT1UcgRGynSSE-eAp1Oh0kCNfFzRYzzWJFNwGWRH8YwI_p8dzvhwUzKBbrEDr8j7RNVnAKxUAPmR6dPw6dTe8mdLhbee9qQb_dSrL9twkKtV19ZioEp2O3otcCzrm7mD6exGiM8/s1600/IMG_7375.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8gAV8yT1UcgRGynSSE-eAp1Oh0kCNfFzRYzzWJFNwGWRH8YwI_p8dzvhwUzKBbrEDr8j7RNVnAKxUAPmR6dPw6dTe8mdLhbee9qQb_dSrL9twkKtV19ZioEp2O3otcCzrm7mD6exGiM8/s320/IMG_7375.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Y'all celebrate me well-- always makes me feel loved and special.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Last recital with Dr. Fritz</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Graham.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Seattle</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">That's what 13 year old boys do.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSMyXsYWjMAIk9i_YtXrbrTt3bOh8h17hdgIWYdV2YqT1zMhs_TXTGPjczgv_9MpYTJ_QoG8T5Rsj3xeI2FELNoTBx8JXvCvdmnHUku3HCN31oVKRg5Q3EfVSYuzzSJ1tZjPymVYoL_Ks/s1600/IMG_7899.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1280" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSMyXsYWjMAIk9i_YtXrbrTt3bOh8h17hdgIWYdV2YqT1zMhs_TXTGPjczgv_9MpYTJ_QoG8T5Rsj3xeI2FELNoTBx8JXvCvdmnHUku3HCN31oVKRg5Q3EfVSYuzzSJ1tZjPymVYoL_Ks/s320/IMG_7899.JPG" width="512" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Perspective.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Junior Ranger Program has helped us keep you motivated to do these National Parks!!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOhMJNazDgSv3eSHK_8ofYrv2UjmiuGgv0HlQVYVTHQzAvigARm_2ZSCu2O2vuH2nvyarhJ3WtarHC8VsaXY-ohijQ0RROJOcD6bfAxRfxewEYHDL937XvmHQfBAV1RAuYNH8rHqDCZQ/s1600/IMG_8438.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1280" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOhMJNazDgSv3eSHK_8ofYrv2UjmiuGgv0HlQVYVTHQzAvigARm_2ZSCu2O2vuH2nvyarhJ3WtarHC8VsaXY-ohijQ0RROJOcD6bfAxRfxewEYHDL937XvmHQfBAV1RAuYNH8rHqDCZQ/s320/IMG_8438.JPG" width="512" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Even though I wish you had stayed on the trail with us longer, I love this picture.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2cd5MNj7QeslcgYL2GjmPVEBq-2rq1x-mQpzy0gSTwydsX724AyvpmRPJBKrlY8kPAL8Yz6Q0Hq2KDm0shxcGogrm9kaATmlpA3DvLng3dyY0gqBtEALFIk74OwsNPbqNaeAltV-wt-w/s1600/IMG_8439.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2cd5MNj7QeslcgYL2GjmPVEBq-2rq1x-mQpzy0gSTwydsX724AyvpmRPJBKrlY8kPAL8Yz6Q0Hq2KDm0shxcGogrm9kaATmlpA3DvLng3dyY0gqBtEALFIk74OwsNPbqNaeAltV-wt-w/s320/IMG_8439.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mystery Soda Machine in Seattle</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBSK0vhcndFMkjwojkznhMmwrxKJoYdOUOnaCMv0O_WP0LwUGmiK_Z1MQZjqdF2_xIiPFFFqUrDku5AsHXzw33Wa4YqbDDCUTLbnaknOlRuTsh-PXOCw_qOXsnLnwrGtArF7kTpprxaoc/s1600/IMG_8487.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBSK0vhcndFMkjwojkznhMmwrxKJoYdOUOnaCMv0O_WP0LwUGmiK_Z1MQZjqdF2_xIiPFFFqUrDku5AsHXzw33Wa4YqbDDCUTLbnaknOlRuTsh-PXOCw_qOXsnLnwrGtArF7kTpprxaoc/s320/IMG_8487.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Sigh.... my baby boy.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAK7jufBlsNmkqEfs7b-fNLmNgp2dWHSBFnNTtWpZvDhEbVPzd1Z7oCsMqu5J8hMCK7Bf-GXsBV0EiErlrKzlTEKkTjg6BZkf4hq-TpUZyzv5dMih_G1I0sQUKjTEP3FJkojewTMmEIow/s1600/IMG_8550.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAK7jufBlsNmkqEfs7b-fNLmNgp2dWHSBFnNTtWpZvDhEbVPzd1Z7oCsMqu5J8hMCK7Bf-GXsBV0EiErlrKzlTEKkTjg6BZkf4hq-TpUZyzv5dMih_G1I0sQUKjTEP3FJkojewTMmEIow/s320/IMG_8550.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Lake fun-- Rice Krispies forever!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwvZyyx8qg_2gS4wAmXTcE6TE81s9VeW17wCwiNmLMzIs0PUCqoE3OUQ2JhK8NQNNDWL1oLwVevD5ajvEDhEPWN6pgnCdMoHlG9hmEE63MdHDH2sTuYQ2YzXZ_AkNNs7QuIdnhV5c_7I/s1600/IMG_8752.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwvZyyx8qg_2gS4wAmXTcE6TE81s9VeW17wCwiNmLMzIs0PUCqoE3OUQ2JhK8NQNNDWL1oLwVevD5ajvEDhEPWN6pgnCdMoHlG9hmEE63MdHDH2sTuYQ2YzXZ_AkNNs7QuIdnhV5c_7I/s320/IMG_8752.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Lois : )</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Helping you with your first job.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6eaw2Nh2MUEWqmjLe25LdrKDRf4eBGfQVgxDSjk9KMoLk4qcP9Lezjyyv7TNLA99zTQMBy3jh_XUuAEUMbl1uT8rGAius_Cemg-As-kKhLyM5qmyJTkI0G-LOOg4ojdsaZHowEwqvTs/s1600/IMG_8974.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6eaw2Nh2MUEWqmjLe25LdrKDRf4eBGfQVgxDSjk9KMoLk4qcP9Lezjyyv7TNLA99zTQMBy3jh_XUuAEUMbl1uT8rGAius_Cemg-As-kKhLyM5qmyJTkI0G-LOOg4ojdsaZHowEwqvTs/s320/IMG_8974.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Grateful for this week at SGI-- more cousins!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyU2A40EsOQJr5_p-KXMe2757lU80a0EkwacPjaK5gZwY5zBhHcsyJLK95Zxty1DXoQc2aOmquCFoamt8WZ2deX3zuMvYWf6SOKOy0PVFLtkMBXRGYNpxfrI_0E-0rIjna31HCNZAZ-G0/s1600/IMG_9180.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyU2A40EsOQJr5_p-KXMe2757lU80a0EkwacPjaK5gZwY5zBhHcsyJLK95Zxty1DXoQc2aOmquCFoamt8WZ2deX3zuMvYWf6SOKOy0PVFLtkMBXRGYNpxfrI_0E-0rIjna31HCNZAZ-G0/s320/IMG_9180.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A night I hope we never forget</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">First day of school</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvycBA8h4U0uCANGiMJI06TI0jGXj91lAIlYK8vuTZyGcNAqjTtNzhvg85ipse6u45OXNIl51RAqFhioYz2y1PzFJTBJm8ClUvDh75d4DwHfEhYVtzZJPrk2va4Blogbs45OJm0bUaaVY/s1600/IMG_9424.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvycBA8h4U0uCANGiMJI06TI0jGXj91lAIlYK8vuTZyGcNAqjTtNzhvg85ipse6u45OXNIl51RAqFhioYz2y1PzFJTBJm8ClUvDh75d4DwHfEhYVtzZJPrk2va4Blogbs45OJm0bUaaVY/s320/IMG_9424.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Hotter-N-Hell 2017 -- you rode 75</span> <span style="font-size: x-small;">miles</span></div>
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We saw this face a lot this year-- even though you don't look happy, I still like it. Life is not always easy and the tough patches have made you stronger.<br />
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Goodbye, 13. Hello, 14.</div>
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Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-90127709052575233182017-09-25T16:15:00.004-05:002017-09-25T16:32:27.915-05:00Grief: Powerful, but No Manners<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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{Momma's charm bracelets, full of decades of memories, worn by the girls who call her "Nana"}</div>
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I read things on grief— well, anything actually— and I think, why do I need to say more? What more can be written? And then I remember, I process as I think and I write as I think. So I write. For me. And if my processing through my fingers helps anyone else, then let the clicking of the keys commence. <br />
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I'm finding that grief is a broad word with no bottom, no boundaries in any direction at all— and so, basically, it has no manners. It crashes in on a normal day—one with a perfectly wonderful beginning— landing in your lap and you have to figure out what to do with it. Quickly, mind you. You don't get a run through, a chance to practice or time think it through, as people like me like to do. You get it on the fly and truly do the best you can. I knew my mom's cancer was spreading but she'd THRIVED with it for so many years— hardly ANY "hitches" in her "giddy up". I knew cancer would be what would get her but THE call from my brother came just hours after getting a thumbs up text regarding mom and a report from her doctor. However, I was 2 1/2 hours from home and my Jeff. No manners. No thought of circumstances. No thought of the receiver. Just barged right into my life that afternoon saying, "Figure me out." I am finding that takes a while. <br />
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Grief is fascinating too because it's universal. Grief is something that slams into everyone on the planet at least once and most likely several times throughout a lifetime. BUT even with it's broad strokes and it's impartiality… it is a unique experience— highly personal and extremely private for most… even though it's a shared experience across cultures and continents. However, the universal experience splinters off in a bazillion directions as we remember the one we lost. Oh, how the stories differ! My family is humbly grateful that our stories are sweet. Each one of us has our own beautiful and honest memories of Momma but when we put them all together and add in the memories of our extended family, closest friends, acquaintances and even a complete stranger in our case, we've really got something special...something lovely that keeps her relationship with us and her influence alive in us somehow. That's a grace gift— a grace gift from the Lord. <br />
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And there are more stories, of course, we all have them and should share them— what led up to it, how we found out, where we were, how we felt, how we feel, how we responded, how we remember them— and maybe, most important of all, what our grief looks like now— while we clean the house, go to work, cook dinner, attend meetings, celebrate occasions, have dinner with friends, go to church, run carpool….. grief in the midst of Wednesday afternoon life. Each one of us has to learn this. I saw a book title— A Broken Heart Still Beats. Yes, it does— a tender reminder to us that we live <u>in <i>spite of</i> </u>loss <i><u>with</u></i> the loss. And my prayer is that I learn to live with loss well— with a bigger and more tender heart. <br />
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I love this quote by Anne Lamott, "If you haven't already, you will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and you never completely get over the loss of a deeply beloved person. But this is also good news. The person lives forever, in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through, and you learn to dance with a banged-up heart." <br />
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Last thing I've thought about, grief is powerful in a practical kind of way in that it is capable of much. It can bring together or it can tear apart. Grief can lead to self-absorption or it can gift you with open arms to give, receive and accept. It can break down barriers or it can put them up. Grief can lead to a keener understanding of love and joy or it can lead to far deeper pain. Grief can steal or it can give. It can lead to resentment or it can lead to a fuller appreciation. Grief can drive us to a plethora of activities or it can lead us to….. grieve… in honor and respect of the one we lost. Grief can turn one away from God or it can be the ballast that makes stronger the road on which you run to Him. And because, by God's grace, I hardly know anything else, that's what I did. His track record with me has been faithfulness— I didn't say "understandable" or "comprehensible"— but absolutely faithful. Every day I live, I walk on the road which has been built up — and is still being built— by every minute spent in His Word, by every pastor, every teacher, every mentor that teaches me His Truth, by parents who loved me and made church priority, by a husband who encourages me to pursue Him more, by my children who need to see me set my feet securely on this path I ask them to try. <br />
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<i>This </i>is why I run to Him in my saddest moments. <i>This</i> is the road I know to be strongest…the road I know that will not disappoint. <i>This</i> is the road that leads to Him, the One who is all powerful, capable of handling my messy, confused emotions because in His perfect <i>manner </i>He is closest to the brokenhearted, the One who knows grief to the fullest.<br />
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Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-16282996993311825992017-08-30T14:40:00.001-05:002017-08-30T14:40:48.763-05:00A Desk PersonifiedBecause I feel a little "stuck" in my brain and words aren't really coming well in any form or fashion I thought I might try to write because more often than not my fingers seem to function better than my mouth. I've pulled out <a href="https://not-by-might.blogspot.com/2016/04/what-ive-kept.html" target="_blank">this book— link that explains that here</a> and I've allowed the book to fall open to a page and out of three choices, the least awkward one is, believe it or not, "What Your Desk Thinks About at Night". <br />
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I actually really like my desk. I have one in the laundry room that I try to do all the yucky stuff like paperwork. That word covers a lot of jobs. Some is actual paper and some is virtual paper via the amazing world wide web. Even though I like the convenience of filling out forms and just clicking to send them where they need to go, I really don't like signing my name using a mouse. That may be more tedious than getting out the envelope and stamps. <br />
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And then I have my happy desk. It used to to be the schoolroom desk/table but now it's mine. All mine. It's still in what we call the schoolroom/guest room —thanks to Jeff's handy skills in making a Murphy Bed— and here is where I get to do things I really love. <br />
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So what in the world would my desk think at night?<br />
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If she really wants to accomplish something tomorrow, she needs to leave her phone somewhere else.<br />
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I go to sleep looking forward to the best part of her sitting down with me which is usually her bringing in a good smelling cup of coffee. I also like that it's warm. And I am grateful she wipes up whatever she may spill. I'm white and I show mess. I like to be clean. <br />
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The weight of the books she leaves on me at night is unnecessary. She could take off at least five and I'd rest much better. I think she just likes the way they look— or maybe she thinks they make her look smart— or maybe the books remind her of something. Actually, they do slide around up there a good bit. Maybe she does look at them.<br />
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The sounds at night are different right now. It's quiet earlier. Their schedule has changed because I hear her kids in the early morning hours.<br />
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And now my nights are shorter because she gets in here earlier than she has in a few months. Not EVERY morning and the weekends are sporadic but a lot of mornings she's slipping into the chair while it's still dark. And some mornings after she's disturbed my peace she has the nerve to put her head down and doze. And I know she's sleeping because her head is extremely heavy. <br />
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At night, I'm glad to have a break from her elbows and forearms that never seem to leave me. If she's not writing with her pen or typing, she's leaning over a book. To me, she seems to waste a lot of time in here— especially when she brings in her phone. <br />
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I need my rest at night because after the early morning hours, she leaves and comes back and so many days, she puts her feet under me — and her arms on me— and loads me down with all sorts of books, papers, and folders. She leans on me more than usual— shuffling around the books— leaning over to see them-- putting more of a strain on me. However, if it's a particularly long day for her, I'll get a whiff of that coffee once more. Later, I can rest my tired self. <br />
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As I rested last night, I thought about today and how little typing and writing she did. She sat a lot. I know I am just a desk but things have been different lately. She moves slower-like drags a little- even at moving her things around. She drinks more coffee than normal. She remains still for longer period of times. And she's been in here a lot more regularly and for longer periods of time. <br />
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I have a drawer that was giving me some problems as I began to rest last night. That one has never bothered me before but then I realized it's because she's been using it a lot lately. I thought and remembered, she keeps Kleenex in there. I've been a desk long enough to know, she could be either sick or sad. If she were sick, I don't think she'd be up so early. If she were sick, I don't think she'd be sitting here with me but in the bed. If she just had a cold, I don't think these books, that big heavy one in particular, would be so important to her.<br />
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I know I am just a desk, but yes, I think she is sad. Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-46812181257542843232017-08-28T23:13:00.000-05:002017-08-28T23:13:21.839-05:00LossIf it seems weird to you for me to post this-- maybe it is but I want a record for my family in this one place. There is so much I want to say but the words aren't coming yet. However, I am grateful these words came quickly the morning after. And for now, this is still all I have. <br />
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Joyce Ivey Dennard, 74, passed from this earth to her home in heaven on Wednesday, July 26, 2017, in Treutlen County. Her quiet battle with cancer since 2008 has come to an end.<br />
Joyce was born in Memphis, Tennessee, on October 20, 1942, to Thomas Wright Ivey and Julia Sue Potts Ivey. She married Richard Marion Dennard on August 9, 1964, at First Baptist Church, Conyers, Georgia. They would celebrate fifty-three years on August 9th. Two children were born to this marriage. They and their families survive Joyce: Blakely Sutton Dennard, his wife, Adele, and children, Richard Jackson (R.J.) Dennard, his wife, Megan of Pooler, Georgia, and Hunter Nicole Dennard of Suwanee, Georgia; Krista Dennard Sanders, her husband, Jeff, and children, Julia Karis Sanders and Jeffrey Brighton Sanders of Fort Worth, Texas. She is also survived by her younger brother, George Thomas Ivey and his wife, Patsy, of Brinkley, Arkansas.<br />
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Joyce was a graduate of Tift College and earned a double major in Chemistry and Biology. Joyce worked as a biologist at the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta (specifically dissecting mosquitoes) before moving to Soperton in December of 1971 to help her husband establish Dennard Drugs. Not only was Joyce the administration behind the scenes but also the one who added beauty and class to the front of the store in the way of gifts, jewelry and china. She was also a homemaker, creating meals and traditions for her family to enjoy and to remember and cherish for years to come. Joyce's main desire was to be with her family and friends and to quietly love them as best as she knew how.<br />
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A very close second to this would be her love of travel, experiencing new places and new adventures. We've always said, "Momma is always sitting on GO!" Just say the word and she would pack a bag whether it was a ski trip with the Pournelles, a spring break adventure with her college-aged kids, a trip to Texas, a church youth group trip as a chaperone, a random baseball stadium, or a flight across the world or a weekend of fishing with her husband and their friends. A close third would be watching her children, and later her grandchildren, participate in all their activities. We can all attest she's sat through her share and many other's share of baseball games— throwing in plenty of baton performances, football games, cheer competitions, ballet recitals, soccer games, softball games, and piano recitals. She taught the Mixed Adults Sunday School class at First Baptist Church Soperton for fifteen years with much help from her friend, Brenda Brown, who filled in many times.<br />
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Joyce with her kind heart and bright smile taught us many things— too many to name here. To be married to her, raised by her, friended by her, loved by her were gifts. Her cancer didn't slow her down until the last month or two and even then we all thought she'd "bounce back". She taught us how to face difficulty with faith, not fear, and with courage, not complaint. She was beloved by her family and friends, who will miss her every day. <br />
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“But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.” (Philippians 3:20-21).<br />
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The celebration of her life will be held in the First Baptist Church, Soperton, Georgia, at 2 p.m., Sunday, July 30, with Pastor Jeff Sanders officiating. Burial will be in Westview Cemetery with Sammons Funeral Home in charge of arrangements.<br />
Pallbearers will be R.J. Dennard, Brighton Sanders, Jeff Watts, Hugh Gillis, Jr., Wade Clark, and Mark Bowers.<br />
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Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-21092754405344800682017-08-01T15:45:00.000-05:002018-05-30T15:47:35.216-05:002017: Saint George Island- Home Again at Beach FeverI am writing this several months later because this trip was something very special followed by momma’s sudden passing. None of us had any idea it was just around the corner. So. As I write this, almost a year later as we anticipate going back soon, I plan to write and post pictures in the spirit in which would make Momma happy. Just like EVERY year, we had an AMAZING time and that is what Momma loved— for us to love being with each other-- and we certainly do! It was a super special week before we even knew what a significant week it would be for all of us. Momma, thank you for making all of this happen. I told you many times, it may be yours and Daddy’s best idea yet. ; ) We are grateful for the investment and we will enjoy it as long as we possibly can.<br />
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We love the anticipation of all we get to do here and I love the picture above because with a beach and a kayak, much fun is coming! It was Julia's first time to deep sea fish. She got up SUPER EARLY with the rest of them and she and Megan had an adventure with Jeff and Blake.<br />
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The kids usually wind up with the paddle board. Either one of us has the kayak or the paddle board is more challenging when they choose to stand up on it!<br />
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My boy is changing all of the time and he hardly EVER allows me to take pictures of him because his "hair is not right!!!!!"<br />
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These are the last Julia's beach pictures with braces! We have so many from every year. NEXT summer it will be SENIOR pictures!! Yikes!<br />
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Bill is always good to get pictures to document their cycling on and off the island.<br />
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Blake is surely celebrating a win here-- at the other team's expense and B's back!!</div>
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He prefers the mountains but embraces this trip excitedly every year. And he looks GREAT on the beach. ; )<br />
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We were ALL so glad to be back at Beach Fever after a summer of water damage remodeling. It truly felt like coming home!<br />
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Patty and I finally timed it right and got out with the dolphins. We got out a little too far according to the beach combers so next year we will have to exercise more caution. Like the adults we are.<br />
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Hand and Foot picture to send to the ones we were missing. RJ and Hunter {and Jason}, WE MISSED YOU!!!!!<br />
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Momma had a thing for Fanta drinks last spring and summer. Citrus tasted good to her in lots of things. Bill improved on the Fanta and made them Frosted Oranges.<br />
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Every. Year. </div>
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Great braces memory</div>
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So grateful for and PROUD of these two--adding a little "extra" wherever they go!</div>
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Blake making fun of SOMEONE'S KanJam throw-- like, OVER HERE???</div>
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Thankful that Bill and Patty pack the games each year. It's a BIG DEAL. It provides for so much distraction from the sun and FUN competition.<br />
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Aunt Ebby's-- always picture worthy!!</div>
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Uncle George-- and Daddy AND Aunt Patsy-- the breakfast cooks extraordinaire.....</div>
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Socks.</div>
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Guestbook entry-- not sure why I have not taken pictures of these every year!</div>
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I always run out on the boardwalk right before we pull out Saturday morning and every time, it's beautiful. This was year 14 and year 11 at Beach Fever. Brighton wasn't even one when we started. I love my family-- my extended family too. By God's grace we truly enjoy one another -- or hide our annoyances REALLY WELL. We will do it again in about a month and a half-- and without Momma, it will be strange and hard and sad and lots of things I don't even know yet. But we will all be together-- BE will people who KNEW her and LOVED her and that brings an enormous amount of comfort. See you soon, St. George.</div>
Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-64140894306349865902017-06-30T13:03:00.000-05:002018-05-23T13:04:32.851-05:002017 6 NPT Pacific NW<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We were supposed to be in California. Julia surprised us all by coming home one afternoon and saying, "I think I will try out for cheerleading!" She made it and mandatory camp put the kabash on our Southern California tour so Jeff quickly planned a shorter trip. Washington with its three lush National Parks was a fine substitute. It was our very first time renting an RV and we loved it. </div>
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We let the kids sleep in while we went and picked it up and this is our happy selfie wake-up-call/text we sent the back to the hotel. Jeff is being a good renter RV driver and watching the road. </div>
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And here we are after picking them up ready for our grand RV adventure. We took our time getting out of Seattle because we knew there were some things we wanted to see. We made a few stops, bought dinner to grill that night, peonies to lovely up the RV, a quick Wal-Mart run, a sugary concoction from the Blank Space Cafe and a quick stop at the Secret Soda Machine {no one knows who fills it up and no one knows what will come out of it....} .<br />
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Our first park stop was....<br />
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North Cascades wins the Best National Park sign award from us. Yes, the snow is fake but who wants a picture with dirty snow?<br />
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All three of these parks in Washington had the best campsites-- all green and lush and wooded and cozy and private. Fires were a necessity EVERY night and EVERY morning.<br />
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I just loved all of the trees and the ferns and the moss-- maybe just all the shades of green. Every park was like this. Almost all of the hikes led us to some gorgeous water feature.<br />
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The WATER!!</div>
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This is one of my favorites-- us far away but they knew I was still snapping. Dancing like teenagers or something...<br />
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My favorite park guy. Looking all park-y and woodsy. </div>
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Tickling the daylights out of Jeff... oh, those collarbones...</div>
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Same picture-- just more perspective</div>
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I found yummy scones here and great park recommendations.</div>
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On to whale watching.... or watching for whales.... ; )</div>
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We changed our route midstream here as we found out about this ferry. It saved us HOURS of driving and I was able to call in a pizza order and pick it up on the other side. Music to B's ears.<br />
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And no vacation is honestly depicted without kids on screen time. Just under a year ago, he was still on a Kindle. Sigh..... those were the days.</div>
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We pulled into this site after dark but we awakened to this. Loved this landscape. And these cold mornings with coffee are certainly a highlight of my day.<br />
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Moss on the trees everywhere. I felt like we were in Hobbit Land.</div>
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Prepping dinner like a champ.</div>
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Olympic National Park takes in the Pacific Ocean so we didn't miss that side. It was worth the drive.<br />
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We saw lots of these colorful starfish. </div>
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Any picture I post of B and me together is a rare find. I post EVERY one almost just so we have them documented. <br />
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Not quite ready for the selfie ; ) </div>
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So we TRIED to take maybe a Christmas picture with our self timer. Well. I messed up the settings, obviously. BUT we had fun trying so I had to add a few to remember. </div>
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And as I was trying to get the camera aimed in the right place, Jeff decided to exercise his dancing skills. Now, for your entertainment...<br />
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You're welcome.</div>
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This park earns Worst National Park sign. Maybe there is a different one but we didn't find it.<br />
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HOWEVER, we would rate Ranier with one of the coolest lodges. </div>
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At this point last summer, these were the largest snow covered mountains we had seen. Because of the weather, I am not sure we ever saw the top of Rainier.</div>
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Costco coat-- always for the win. And NEVER have we ever taken a hike and thought-- why did we do that? Just beauty-- everywhere. Lots of water features here too.<br />
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Again-- best camp sites ever.</div>
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Jeff and his mix of crescent/warrior pose-- trying to relieve his back for more walking-- and more importantly, trying to embarrass us!<br />
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Already wearing his Rainier swag.</div>
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My favorite tree hugger</div>
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We had all sorts of middle school humor fun with this picture as we showed it to Brighton as he RAN ahead of us and missed the fun. <br />
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But his running ahead got me this picture which is one of my favorites. </div>
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He is still enjoying the Junior Park Ranger Programs--the PINS/BADGES are WAY COOL. ; )<br />
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So, I'd do the RV again and again. I loved it. The kids swapped sleeping on the convertible table/twin bed space and the space over the driver. I liked having snacks on board and a refrigerator to keep all kinds of things in. However, a permanent memory is things flying everywhere often as Jeff would make sudden stops or turns. I loved sleeping IN the parks and waking UP in the parks to enjoy the quietness of the woods by a fire. I just liked having everything we needed right with us wherever we were-- especially extra layers when you drive an hour and the temperature changes dramatically. {Momma don't like being cold!} Nights were fairly quiet-- making dinner, playing Spades, watching a movie, reading books, catching up on our phones if we had a signal-- which is rare and frustrating and glorious all at the same time.<br />
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These trips have been so fun for usKrista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-24486426767230612702017-06-23T07:41:00.001-05:002017-06-23T07:41:43.665-05:00Not My Job, But Yours Be Done<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm beginning to realize why my older friends didn't talk much about raising teenagers. {And you may remember when I said the same thing about middle schoolers….} There are times when I've been like, "Why didn't so and so TELL ME?" "Why didn't they sit me down and fill me in on the best ways to handle these little budding adults that have shown up on the second floor of my home?" "Why didn't they tell me that I would feel so ill-equipped and confused much of the time?" Here's the reason they didn't tell me— because they knew I really wouldn't be able to understand it until I got there. Here. Wherever. They knew they could tell me, warn me, encourage me in some specific areas but that I really wouldn't— couldn't— take it to heart because I had no way of knowing what raising teenagers would be like. <br />
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Until I was actually doing it.<br />
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Life with teenagers can be great. On good days, we can teeter on the "friendship" side of parenting— seeing glimpses of what our adult relationship might look like, we can actually agree on a life issue, we can have some meaningful interactions on close to the heart subjects, and we can think, "Hey— I really like you." And SOMETIMES life with teenagers can feel like a bubble blown from dollar store mix— it’s fragile and one more breath in the plastic wand and it bursts. A good ol' "bust" just may be the better term. And these "busts" leave you wondering if things will ever be light and normal again……if hormones will ever run on cruise control again…if anyone will ever smile in our house again…if coat hangers will ever be used for hanging clothes again. You know- dire issues like that. Anyone with teenagers knows what I am talking about— with the bubble— you ask a simple question, like, "Have much homework?" and there are tears followed by questions of why you don't love them anymore and life is NOT normal. Or light. *<br />
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And you are dumbfounded. Homework vs. their place in your heart. The game has changed. The stakes are higher. Fo sho. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at all of them! If not a teenager already, look how many just a few friends have to raise!! Love. These. Kids.</td></tr>
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Having a few more years behind us, we think we know what's best for them—and most of the time we do, but they simply can't see it. OR they see it fine, but wouldn't even pretend they did. A few things fall into that category these days— things I'd love to see them doing but they just haven't owned yet. I DO know these particular things ARE best for them so I pray. And pray some more— praying that God will do the things that only He can do. Remember Blackaby's Experiencing God in the 90's? I picked it back up again after 20 years and guess what? It's STILL amazing. And I loved being reminded of these things— the things ONLY HE can do. {See? If only HE can do them, then it's struck OFF my list. I don't know about you, but I am all up for that.}<br />
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1. Draws people to Himself<br />
2. Causes people to seek Him<br />
3. Reveals spiritual Truth<br />
4. Convicts the world {us, our children and everyone we know!} of guilt about sin, righteousness and judgment<br />
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How freeing is that? Those are His jobs, not mine. I take huge comfort in that and the really incredible thing is that He is faithful and I am counting on Him to do His part. And you can bet I will remind Him of it— respectfully. Of course. When will I respectfully remind Him? Every time I try to think of a creative way to get them to read Scripture on their own. Every time I want pure repentance— like some sackcloth and ashes action. GRIEF over their sin. Every time I see them struggling with a spiritual Truth after I've laid it out as clearly as I know how. That's when I have to remind Him that drawing, revealing and convicting is HIS job. Not mine. I am not in control. I have none. <br />
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Are you detecting the focus here? Are you sensing who this parenting thing is really about? So a few months after I began reading Experiencing God again— enter Paul David Tripp's book Parenting. It IS about parenting but as I read it, it is so much more about the work needed in my own heart. Just like marriage, parenting is just another degree of our sanctification, another prying off of our fingers from our own desires and agendas, another microscope on the sin that is still active in my own life. So don't read it if you don't want to be thoroughly challenged— BUT, know this, it's not a burdensome book. AT ALL. It frees you— just as Henry Blackaby's principles from Scripture do. There are just certain things we were never meant to do. We can encourage it. We can teach it. We can model it. But we cannot make them choose it for themselves. It's only by God's grace that I chose Him all those years ago.<br />
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So, these days, I am more convinced than ever that parenting is really about the work He wants to accomplish in me— letting go of my desire for control, comfort, "rightness", and even peace. He wants me completely aware of what’s ruling my own heart, my absolute dependency on Him, my perpetual need for Him— and how that kind of dependence looks moment to moment.<br />
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And yes, I am still figuring that out. Parenting moments are hardly EVER planned. Friends, we've got to be at the ready. I think His Word has a few things to say about that. So maybe we can talk about that another time? Until we can do that here’s some favorite verses.<br />
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2 Peter 1:3 His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. 4Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.<br />
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5For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; 6and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; 7and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love. 8For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.<br />
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Wow. So be it.<br />
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{Here's the <a href="http://liftmynoise.blogspot.com/2017/02/what-i-cannot-do.html" target="_blank">link to what my friend wrote several months ago now regarding Tripp's book</a>— and a bit of her parenting experience. Don't we all learn so much from each other? Grateful for community within the Body of Christ.} <br />
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{* Instead of “Have much homework?”--- “What did you do last night?” or “How was the party?” or “Why did you miss curfew?” or “What is this text all about?” In these years there could be things that happen that tear holes in our hearts-- this is a burst bubble of a different caliber-- so just know those things are tumbling around in my mind as I write this.}<br />
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Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-58762397131031619732017-06-02T18:16:00.000-05:002017-07-12T00:29:32.547-05:00Pericope No. 18 Winter to Summer 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It’s happening again. These picture recaps just don’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. I’ve told you before--it’s the kids’ favorite kind of post-- all pictures, no talk. SOME talk but not my usual overload. By this time, we had one semester of public school under our belts. The kids seemed to have “leveled out” a bit. Not that it was smooth sailing or anything quasi normal but in a groove of sorts. January brought our 2 days of winter- as you can see one of them below- and the kids had never had breakfast at Paris Coffee Shop. It opened in 1926 and there is nothing French about it except there is French toast on the menu. Just a FW icon. January is also time for the Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo. We don’t make it every year but almost. BOTH of my kids own “rodeo wear” as any good Texan should, but this was the first year they chose not to don it. Teenagers. Eye roll. It’s also the month of Lake Weekend. There are all sorts of “Lake Weekends” about but this one is a few good friends, favorite things, all day pj’s, yummy food and just a bunch of fun. By God’s grace, I’ve got good women around me. We also headed to Houston for a conference Jeff wanted to attend-- me too! Made a family trip out of it and visited the Space Center. It just so happened that we saw Hidden Figures our first night in Houston so touring the Space Center and the Training Facility took on new meaning for us. The crazy thing that happened was that while we were sitting IN Houston Mission Control, our guide got word that Gene Cernan had just died and announced it to us-- with tears. Gene Cernan was the last man living who had walked on the moon. Our trip coincided with Em’s first MARATHON. We got to meet up with her friends and family and watch her FINISH. Like a boss. Oh-- forgive me, Houston friends, but we weren’t impressed with H-town. I am SURE we weren’t in the right areas so besides the Space Center, Arandas Bakery was the second highlight of our trip. We walked into a grocery like place bursting with color and just had to observe to get our bearings so we figured out one needed a metal tray-- about the size of a pizza pan and tongs. And then you loaded up. And we LOADED UP. So many things we wanted to try. I was a little nervous about our bill but our MOUNDFUL was under six bucks. B’s eyes went wide and we all just smiled. </div>
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Of course the END of January brings Julia’s BIRTHDAY!! Fifteen. FIFTEEN!! Which means NEXT year she will be SIXTEEN!!! My how these parties have changed-- and you, sweet readers, have seen most of her parties!! She invited a mix of old friends and new-- old school, new school, and childhood friends. I think they mixed well and I certainly enjoyed hearing all of their words and giggles. She got her yellow roses from Uncle Blake. {Blake, my sweet brother, you are an AWESOME uncle. I love you more for it.} She wanted to try a ramen restaurant for her birthday and quickly realized she liked the 15 cent ramen better. She was a sport to try something new though. {We all were!!} Her canvas with a quote was her surprise and I hope to write more on that later.<br />
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February brings Jeff’s birthday and the Conners agreed to drive the hour or so to Bluff Dale, TX to eat at this reservation only hole in the wall in the middle of nowhere-- um, excuse me, Bluff Dale-- restaurant. These places amuse and delight me all at the same time. It was totally worth the drive. Maybe not if it hadn’t been the Conners....</div>
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Laundromat, schmodromat. It was a bargain or an agreement and B didn’t hold up his end. So to the laundromat on Vickery he went every Saturday for a month. And to be honest-- if you are wondering-- it didn’t change anything. Just thought you might want to know. The best thing about it? He had great stories to tell during our Sabbath meal on Saturday night.</div>
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D-Now with Watermark is always a highlight of their winter. I’m so grateful for their leaders and the way they love our kids.</div>
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Julia was asked to be part of lecture demonstrations this year at her studio. They travel to a few schools in the FWISD and demonstrate their skills for the students. It’s a GREAT idea and the kids actually sit and watch intently. This surprised me. I think “live” things are fascinating to them.</div>
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I got to spend 24 hours with Julia’s friends at Therefore at Pantego Bible Church. T{4}-- to say it cool. It was a well done event with great Truth spoken. </div>
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And yes, that book-- it’s deserves “EVENT” status. Seriously. Event in my life and heart. I am still reviewing and taking notes asking the Lord to make it real and live in my every day. A must read for any parent. </div>
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Our sweet guys under this roof celebrate Valentines well. Jeff is the master, I tell you. I did work that night and when I got off my car wasn’t where I’d left it and HE was there in it waiting to pick me up. He took me to a gorgeous wedding venue that our friends own and cooked me an amazing meal and we went over his list of 25 great moments- our moments- 25 years ago he asked me to marry him on Valentines. He went to a lot of trouble to make this sweet for me. Most of the time, I am too overwhelmed to respond appropriately. It was a very wonderful night.</div>
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And the end of February means BASEBALL STARTS!! This picture TJ sent to me was a sweet reminder of how our lives overlapped a little more this year. She was at the tournament and Julia was walking back to class from lunch. </div>
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March is awesome because it brings Spring Break and, in my opinion, it’s all downhill after that. Don’t tell my kids I said that though. It kind of ruins my end of school year mantra of “FINISH STRONG!” These two teachers below started Porches at Paschal at 7 am on Friday mornings. They invite the kids to come to their classroom and watch the talk from Watermark’s Porches ministry-- while serving up coffee and doughnuts! It’s awesome and THEY are amazing. Mr. Wilkey is not in this picture but he’s rounds out this trio and I couldn’t be MORE THANKFUL for them. </div>
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I think the craziest thing that happened in March is that Julia said she wanted to try out for cheer. Maybe I need to write about this whole thing ---- so this started a series of tumbling/cheer lessons added to 4 days a week at the ballet studio plus REHEARSAL SEASON-- getting ready for Alice in Wonderland and Ballet Americana. I don’t care to repeat this ever. Not at the same time. And guess what people?! She made it!! She started 10 years too late, but she made it! She found a used uniform at the first official meeting and couldn’t have been happier in it. She looks adorable in it. A WHOLE NEW WORLD FOR THIS MOMMA.</div>
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Flowers-- the kindness of my husband all of these years. I don’t deserve any of it-- it’s all grace. His choice to love me-- with all my irritating things-- is his greatest gift to me.</div>
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Tarrant NET has made my life so much richer. I’ve gotten to experience things I never would have before. I love the churches of Fort Worth and this one pictured blew me away with their genuine hospitality. I was BLESSED to worship and pray with these people. </div>
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Friends-- His grace abounds to me and my family. Relationships are what makes this life worth living and I love these people with all my heart. Julia’s new friend, Collette-- I’ve got no words to express what she has meant to this momma this spring. I see good things in our future because of her. </div>
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Icky, dirty socks on the KITCHEN counter-- like where we eat and serve food and stuff. Just keeping it very real here.</div>
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The Master’s Program kicked off this spring-- more on that later but Jeff rocks it every time. Any man would be crazy not to want to be a part of this group and learn from what Jeff is learning himself. Time and money WELL SPENT. Fo sho.</div>
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April!!! </div>
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Canwick-- maybe more on that later. We are grateful Libby Manning nominated Julia. We aren’t exactly sure what we are doing but it seems fun. </div>
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Turner Classic Movies Film Festival-- Denise and Margaret invited me-- HOW COULD I SAY NO?!??!?!!! It was the perfect weekend to be out of pocket and I just had the best time. I had no idea about anything so I was wowed the whole weekend. I could have gone to a cabin the middle of nowhere with these two and been happy as a clam but the city-- even with the weirdos, the theaters, the movies, and laughing with these two-- it was AWESOME. Thank you so very much.</div>
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High school brings invitations and outings that we know little about the people hosting and attending so you have to make a decision and go with it. This was a quinceanera-- once I knew this group was going and that we needed to give a ride to two of my favorite young men in her class, I was good.</div>
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Easter- I love how the kids still do this with the baskets. We continue the Easter garden and the lighting of it and the tomb closing on Good Friday. It is always a favorite holiday with this crowd. I am so grateful for a place to celebrate His grace-- and with these special people. I love this day and these people. So much. </div>
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Revive Texas started Easter night-- it truly needs a post of its own. Nicho-- new brother in Christ. The greatest privilege, I tell you. The greatest.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trying to figure out what to wear to Canwick?!? Just mark it down-- I should have gone out and let her buy something new. I had no idea it would be the latest spring fashions on display before the weather was ready!! Momma got it wrong this time.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SKIN FICTION!! Automatic filters. Nice. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7_zdXSDcr3kTc2T9sm52f-TCp1K-k5IQ6tmxqGQBKJbJcPDrUcW28Rl-8G8ZJSWFLMB3CpQRzdKgpzLvE9lXDjy55dZEe7yOsRNt3wn59umm7153DQtxfu8KNtT8laXxl0Dj0xh5gxQ/s1600/IMG_6763.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7_zdXSDcr3kTc2T9sm52f-TCp1K-k5IQ6tmxqGQBKJbJcPDrUcW28Rl-8G8ZJSWFLMB3CpQRzdKgpzLvE9lXDjy55dZEe7yOsRNt3wn59umm7153DQtxfu8KNtT8laXxl0Dj0xh5gxQ/s640/IMG_6763.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More wonderful fiction.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLzRtqSrcvY2yB1cKFGxmuugHAh7Gy72gCPsLuI0sFaAxFreJe21Jtq3LNvqBPajhJp1W56NU3USopHM25NIYX4pWx_M446sJozBcF2THvG28FS-3R_ZxdINhA-HvSP0zKCKOq17_yMgs/s1600/IMG_6754.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLzRtqSrcvY2yB1cKFGxmuugHAh7Gy72gCPsLuI0sFaAxFreJe21Jtq3LNvqBPajhJp1W56NU3USopHM25NIYX4pWx_M446sJozBcF2THvG28FS-3R_ZxdINhA-HvSP0zKCKOq17_yMgs/s640/IMG_6754.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">B celebrating her making cheer. Loved these pictures.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNC4SMtKNWg-FEkL5nVMsWNRON7tSAX6G5xqy36ALJ_0hiU0f1LXCUdJHIvFVsx-0ecEDUfOeH1F014Jcv8KP_dHyIKDmtYa3m_qvNlhtJgEqdBXFLdafmqqHgGCWxpA0djBhtmuQt8sw/s1600/IMG_6776.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNC4SMtKNWg-FEkL5nVMsWNRON7tSAX6G5xqy36ALJ_0hiU0f1LXCUdJHIvFVsx-0ecEDUfOeH1F014Jcv8KP_dHyIKDmtYa3m_qvNlhtJgEqdBXFLdafmqqHgGCWxpA0djBhtmuQt8sw/s640/IMG_6776.jpg" width="470" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trying on the uniform. : )</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsodPVj9Oozz6dUhGWFnxTtt_HHSxzIKitFS00JMINLR30kTohsmL4aj0ToMpHLeFtt8F0gQI9cjfTe3kWsxe1tGx2SaM0N2MLwJ3FfjRa5-sN7NT6pEi6iR6gTau6h_OMKkN-ELHdkdU/s1600/IMG_6973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsodPVj9Oozz6dUhGWFnxTtt_HHSxzIKitFS00JMINLR30kTohsmL4aj0ToMpHLeFtt8F0gQI9cjfTe3kWsxe1tGx2SaM0N2MLwJ3FfjRa5-sN7NT6pEi6iR6gTau6h_OMKkN-ELHdkdU/s640/IMG_6973.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I just wish I had taken a picture of the bathroom counter. Thousands of dollars of product and primping tools. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These two-- first picture was in car seats when Julia was 2 days old. They don’t have a choice but to be friends. Two introverts {SOCIAL introverts} so there isn’t a chance for much else except a great friendship and that’s what I am counting on. {Hud- HOW can you watch over her from SCS?!?!?}</td></tr>
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Oh, y’all May-- almost done. Lives are full, right? Sometimes the things that make us think are going to burst from the crazy are the biggest blessings. Revive TX continued, cheer practice, ballet class AND rehearsals, piano, school work, company-- and helping Kelly celebrate the teachers at ML Phillips elementary. Company was my favorite this spring-- my parents coming being the highlight. They saw Julia’s ballet AND were here for Mother’s Day-- a privilege to have my mom here for sure. We had a good time-- pedicures, massages, and a yummy lunch at Grace.</div>
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My favorite Sunday of the year at Watermark-- Baptism Sunday. </div>
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Piano recital-- bittersweet. More on that later.</div>
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Jeff had the privilege of marrying Zachary and Skye. Zach grew up down the street from us and attended our house church. We remember the day Ceil and Mike brought him home as we all awaited his return from Mexico as an adoption addition to their family. We have a lot of history with this sweet family and were honored to be asked to be a part of this special day.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I just have to post it. It’s so typical of me. I am doing this right before this next picture. </td></tr>
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And that’s a wrap. That took forever. Kids-- I hope you appreciate this toil and sweat one day!! I love making memories with the three of you. We don’t take pictures of the bad days-- the ones where we argue and say things we regret. But we have them, right? All of it is part of what makes this life we are learning to live together. God’s grace is sufficient for ALL of our sin, right? Praise be to Him. Let’s keep doing this thing TOGETHER. </div>
Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-71393460902272219532017-05-05T14:02:00.000-05:002017-05-05T14:02:42.549-05:00And the Story Goes On.... {Adoption. No Fear.}Gosh. I feel like I need to say SOMETHING before I just up and post on this neglected blog. I went to save something I wanted to write about and noticed I didn't even have a "2017" folder!! I miss writing. I feel I miss out on the savoring of good things, hard things— finding the significance in them when I don't write. For me, sometimes, that means living on a different level— one that's more shallow, not as rich. Writing makes me stop — and think through things. God has been faithful to push me out in the deep end to discover some treasure, but I know I've missed some things. I so enjoyed teaching at church a few times out of Acts which prepared me for what's going on now— <a href="http://www.revivetx.org/" target="_blank">Revive TX</a>, which hopefully I can write about later. Any writing time was spent studying. However, this morning, the house is quiet. I am actually a little shaky because Jeff is usually the one who presses the coffee and he's out of town….. so I must have been off on the proportions— and there is SO MUCH left over! And I feel obligated not to waste it. So between my jittery self and this texting stream among a few friends who got a SPRAY TAN last night, I may not be able to put two sensible thoughts together!! {Spray tan— yes— a girl came to my friend's house and sprayed us all down with a caffeine and stain laden concoction and the comparative notes— and pictures— this morning are hilarious. Oh the joys of being a girl and having GIRLFRIENDS!} Well, there's my little "hi!" Here is what I wanted to tell you….. <br />
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When we chose to pursue adoption, we were just so excited about starting a family. Sure, we thought through a few things — mainly A BABY— but really, who thinks past the first few months even when having a baby?! There are a few special select of you who have wedding budgets already in place after the positive pregnancy test but you are just……well, …special. Most of us focus on all the NEWNESS and keeping baby alive and getting a little sleep. Your brain catches up later, right? So, of course, we have two sweet, God-filled adoption stories that have been chronicled in detail on this aging blog. {Just click on “adopting” in the side margin if you need more detail.} Those stories are no different in that they aren't over after the first few months. Chapters are always being written. Then, I had NO IDEA how God would continue His story year after year building on the things He had shown us, dazzled us and blessed us with during those processes. Julia's fifteenth birthday was no exception. {I did not write an official 15th birthday letter to post here this year. They seem so personal now that she's older. Maybe I can post them later one day? But this will represent that this year because I feel the Lord has something for Julia in this story.}<br />
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Random picture but NOT a random friend. These long time friends at their first Quinceanera.<br />
So 15, right?<br />
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And a mom is allowed a favorite picture. {A month before she turned 15}<br />
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So her birthday. On the way to school- the quick less than 10 minute trip- we typically read a devotional I have in the car or our church's The Journey on one of our phones. Two days after her birthday, January 26th, I was telling her that this day was almost as special to me as her actual birthday because this was the day we took her home. {Well, to the La Quinta in Bossier City, Louisiana until all paperwork was complete.} God was faithful to encourage me through His Word throughout the whole process— He chose to use Streams in the Desert and the Scriptures chosen for those days. I was blown away often and the 26th of 2002 was no exception. So this January, I briefly mentioned it on the way to school that morning. Well, after she read the entry in Jesus Calling, she looked up the verses on the phone and read them aloud. And she read this verse, "He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord." Psalm 112:7 Unfortunately, I had gotten distracted and was halfway listening but it was enough. I was like, "Wait! Read that again!" She did and I was— blown away, again, by the kindness of the Lord. I had to remind her that it was the same Scripture that God had given me the day BEFORE we got the call from her birthmother that she was going into labor when I was about to go CRAZY because we hadn't heard from her in weeks. And the SAME Scripture He so graciously gave me AGAIN 2 days later on the longest day of my life, waiting to take Julia home with us- the day things could have dashed all our hopes and dreams. He gave it to me in His Word that first day- 1/22- and then it was a featured verse in Streams in the Desert -1/25— reminding me that I didn't need to worry about "bad news"— a changed mind. Adoption thwarted. Back to square one. It gave me confidence to BE Julia's momma from the second I met her- minutes after she was born. To give her my WHOLE heart and not be worried that that was too risky until I knew for sure her birthmother would sign the papers. {And sweet birthmom, S, I know you visit here around Mother's Day each year— Hi, by the way and I love you. Bless you, sweet one. I hope you find this so incredibly encouraging to your heart. Let Him bolster your heart and faith with stories like this. God wants YOU to know that YOU did His will. YOU did the brave thing and sacrificed part of yourself for our daughter's greater good. You set that story, her story- that goodness- in motion for Julia and all of us will forever be grateful and always remember you for that. You are loved here in our home and never forgotten. God is faithful to us both, yes? May He continue to bless you and your family, S.} <br />
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And so He kept using His Word and just then on her 15th birthday, He decided we both needed a reminder of His Sovereign hand in the story. It is only by His grace that she's ours. I had no control, but I decided to trust Him like never before and He drew me along every LONG and HOPEFUL day with His Word. Fine, if one wants to say it's a coincidence or that I am reading too much into it. I believe He is in charge of coincidences and, on good days, my thought patterns. So there, you skeptics. ; ) <br />
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So I told Julia, like it or not, that verse was hers now. It's just come up too many times around her story for her to ignore. It's mine too, but at 15, I believe He wanted her to have it as well. <br />
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"[She] will have no fear of bad news; [her] heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord." Psalm 112:7<br />
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Sweet Julia, I have a feeling you will receive bad news in your life— we all do. It's inevitable in our sinful world where we, sinful people, make choices every moment. Bad news is a part of our fallen world, but you don't have to LIVE in fear of it. You can trust that even in hard news, He is trustworthy and WITH Him, you need not fear. His faithfulness is an anchor— something that reaches to the depths of who we are and tethers our soul deep in His care. I pray you, Julia, can bask and delight in that comfort and security.<br />
I'm counting on that for me and I am counting on that for you. <br />
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May our hearts be steadfast, trusting in the Lord. So be it.<br />
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I love you. With my whole heart. <br />
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<br />Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-20102196597950568442017-02-10T15:27:00.000-06:002017-02-10T15:27:06.728-06:00Middle School: Girls, Glenn Miller, Socks and Idiots {or just one Idiot}I am determined to write a few words this morning. I lose my practical head when I get to teach at Bible Study so I got to do that Wednesday morning and last night and presently, the laundry machine is spinning, the dishwasher is humming and I've got TWO pots simmering on the burner. AND for a few more hours, I have NOWHERE to go. A home day. I love it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watermark Middle School Small Group-- and their leaders. Grateful for each one.</td></tr>
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Jeff and I are chaperoning the last middle school dance tonight. I've been wanting to serve in some way at the other two—just to get a pulse on what these things are like— but we've been out of town or something. So tonight, Jeff is a "Special OPS Dad" in the hall and I am checking tickets at the door. Last night Brighton came in our bathroom— and uncharacteristically for him— he beat around the bush trying to ask this question. "Are you going to embarrass me?" Oh, I had fun with that one. But seriously, does he really want me to act like I don't know him?! I told him he might regret that if I wind up being the coolest mom there handing out Altoids to all the kids who forgot to brush their teeth after their quick dinner before the dance! I also wanted to ask him, "Are YOU going to embarrass ME?" Fair, right? But somehow that question sounds so much worse turned around on him. If I am parenting him the way God leads me to, his choices have nothing to do with me and therefore, his actions should NOT embarrass me. Oh the thought struggles of parenting. It's a fight to keep those TRUTH thoughts front and center moment to moment. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His binder..... oh. my. word.</td></tr>
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Oh, B and how I love him. Jeff was out of town a couple of weeks ago and so I was doing the afternoon/evening Ubering solo— and y'all, side note, it's a THING. I am not sure how parents make this happen day to day all over the world and we aren't all in a car pile up somewhere. My kids have one yearly activity {ballet for J and the sport in season for B} and one 30 minute piano class. When we were homeschooling it was easy to consider that just another one of their classes. Being in school 5 days a week has made all of the running around a little trickier but we are still at it. One of the positives of this that I am savoring right now is CAR TIME. It's when most of our talking happens and lots comes out driving around- sometimes I think more than when I try to plan it over a favorite snack or meal. When Julia begins driving herself to and from school and ballet, I think I will truly begin to miss her. So I am not complaining about car time—it's GOLDEN— I am just shocked by the extent of it! Coming back from the side note— it was just Brighton and me in the car and he said, "Hey Mom, when we get home, can we just sit in the den for a while and talk?" Umm, yes. I LOVE easy questions-especially the ones I can say yes to! He asked me if I wanted a fire and if I wanted to go ahead and fix my coffee. Then he asked Alexa, "Alexa, play 1950's Jazz Music." And we sat down by the fire and talked to the sounds of Duke Ellington and Glenn Miller. I let him go with it wherever he wanted- took my hands off the wheel. Much of it was funny but some of it was very serious— and some so heavy I was wishing Jeff were there to spread out the load. Most of the heaviness comes from his story— and when I say "heavy" — it's all good but it's heavy to him and therefore, me because he's still making peace and sense out of all of it. I am so proud of him for communicating with me his heart and pushing through to the hard questions and even trying to be sensitive to me in the process. I love my 13 year old boy who hasn't stopped talking since he was 2. I pray this never stops. Breaks are nice, but you know what I mean.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I feel for the young man on the right.... Middle School is hard.</td></tr>
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So the funny thing I wanted to tell you is that he said he was learning some things about girls— and you never know where this is going but this was light, thank goodness. I needed some light. He said some guys told him that with girls, you need to LISTEN to them. Novel, yes? And which "guys"? And why did they latch on to this? "REALLY listen", he said. He said there were two problems with this. I couldn't imagine. First, he said, "Mom", he held his hands out like he was reading a paper, "it's like they are reading a 20 page essay. They go on and on and on." <br />
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2nd problem? And this will prove to be his biggest. I'm his Mom. I know. <br />
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"I like to talk, too." <br />
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Brighton has his own essay going on. So yes, this will be interesting to watch as he moves through these years. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I’m chalking this little trend up to the strangeness of Middle School. Please. PLEASE. </td></tr>
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I didn't plan on this being all about B but last thing, for now… last year in 6th grade, he did a report in his Science class on fungus and he chose — with my subtle directing fueled by hygienic motivation— athlete's foot. I think the boy had nightmares from the pictures. Thursday morning, second day of track he doesn't get up— after being awakened by us 45 minutes before at his request —because he has managed to break two alarm clocks in a one year period. So basically he rolls out of bed and into the car. To add to my regrets of motherhood, nothing was sweet or life-giving about yesterday morning. I was just stupid with my words. ANYWAY. Half way there, he realized he didn't have his socks. If you have a kid in a school with a uniform, you know that socks are really a big deal— socks AND their shoes. "PLEASE bring me socks, Mom!! PLEASE!! I CAN'T GO WITHOUT SOCKS FOR THE REST OF THE DAY!!!" This kills me. I hate when they ask me to do something and I have to stand my ground and say no. {He should have gotten out of the bed when I told him to. Right? 45 minutes would have been PLENTY of time to think of socks.} True to character, he made one last ditch effort as I drove away— completely ignoring my apology for the idiot I had been in the 5 minutes I saw him before we picked up the neighbor. Of course, I struggled all day NOT taking his socks— completely wasted energy on my part. However, it may have been worth it to hear him obsess over how badly he needed to get to "that foot spray" Jeff had gotten for him. He could hardly think of anything else. He had borrowed socks from the "snooze you lose" bucket in the locker room…..oh my word. Can we just NOT think about that for a minute? He DID say he turned them inside out before he put them on but he couldn't get to "that foot spray" fast enough when we got home. This morning, he left with socks. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He’s certainly my favorite 13 year old boy and I marvel at his changing self. </td></tr>
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I know Middle School is tough. For 7th grade, the “Eyebrow Incident" will forever be seared in his memory but I also know that it's prime time in our kids' lives. Big things are happening within themselves and it makes my brain hurt worse than a carpool schedule thinking about it. When that happens, may it drive me to PRAY— to pray for what's going on in their hearts and minds and to ask consistently for Jesus to mold and shape them--AND ME. I can't speak any better regarding these prayers than my friend TJ did <a href="http://liftmynoise.blogspot.com/2017/02/what-i-cannot-do.html" target="_blank">in her post this wee</a>k. This mindset and these prayers are critical if we want to make it through these parenting years— without the idiot label AND with a great relationship with our kids— who are growing up faster than we could have ever imagined. <br />
<br />
Thank you, Jesus, for loving them even more than we do. <br />
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Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-77998287953910949582017-01-24T21:49:00.000-06:002018-05-09T15:05:38.280-05:00A Letter to a 15 year old Girl: Julia's Birthday Letter 2017Dear Julia,<br />
<br />
These years. I can’t do anything about them passing. It frustrates me to no end that I feel like I am running UP the escalator raising you. But that’s my problem. Not yours. So much I want to talk about, hear your thoughts on, teach you, explore with you, learn about you….. but January 24, 2017. Boom. You are 15. <br />
<br />
I hope you liked your gift.<br />
"True beauty is rare and seldom recognized by the one who possesses it."<br />
<br />
We both have read this as a line in a book by Francine Rivers— one of my favorite series of all time, Mark of the Lion. {And I’m pretty sure it may be one of yours too knowing you have read it a couple of times.} It comes from the first book, A Voice in the Wind and it is spoken by Marcus, the arrogant young man who is transformed by Christ after years of observing a young slave live out her faith. It's a remarkable, compelling and beautiful story, isn’t it? This line stuck with me reading the series a second time now that I am raising you, my teenage daughter—in a culture more fixated on and obsessed with physical appearance than any generation before. With hours upon hours of YouTube "stars" to show you how it's done. With more product to sell to "help" you than ever before. With magazines and social media where computer gadgets and filters can make reality look very much fictional. And let's not forget the significant chunks of time given to the device in your hands where you and your friends compare and contrast yourselves with these "fictional" pictures and with each other. What's a girl to do? {What’s a mom to do, for pity’s sake?!} Honestly, first, I'd like to chunk the phone. That seems to be my answer to everything these days, doesn’t it? Maybe just chunking SOMETHING in general would help. It’s just that the phone just seems to be the handiest thing— at all times. I digress…..this will NOT be a post about my inner turmoil regarding phones. Julia, at fifteen, you are a beauty and I understand your desire to look at all the Stuff and to try all of the Products. But I implore you not to get fixated on Stuff and Products. Try what you want. Buy what you need. Use what you need and then live your life. Enjoy your day. Love your people. Avoid the mirror. Don’t seek out your reflection. Take care of yourself before you leave the house and then turn yourself all outward and love the people God puts in your path. This, my girl, is true beauty.<br />
<br />
I’ve probably told you this story before but I remember taking one of my first road trips with your daddy and at the first pit stop {—you know how your daddy likes a quick stop at the <strike>candy</strike> gas station—} I purchased a couple of magazines. At home, we subscribed to Better Homes and Gardens and, of course, Southern Living- just as we do now. I always wanted something different for the road, something I would never subscribe to so out of the gas station I came with probably Glamour and Vanity Fair-- something like that. I don’t know how far down I-20 we got before he started asking me questions about the magazines, but it wasn’t long. “Why did you buy those particular ones?” “What do you like about those?” “Do you think they are helpful?” Finally, our conversation ended with his asking me to think about just not ever looking at those types of magazines again. He did his best to explain his thoughts on beauty, expectations, expending time and energy on what is temporary etc. In my early 20’s I don’t think I got it but his challenge resonated with me and so I just never bought those magazines again. In hindsight, I have been so grateful. Even though I like to look pretty and try new things too, your daddy’s encouragement has kept me from being in bondage to the “Stuff and Products” that almost always carry Very Empty Promises. It’s just not worth the time and energy. There are more noble pursuits. Don’t get caught up in it. Do what you need to do in front of the mirror, walk away and don’t look back.<br />
<br />
Charm is DECEPTIVE {delusive - deceitful - delusory - false - misleading} and beauty is FLEETING {transient - transitory - fugitive - ephemeral - passing}, but a woman who fears the Lord will be praised. {express warm approval or admiration, respect and gratitude}. Proverbs 31:30<br />
<br />
I hope you have a vision of what it means for a woman to be praised by her family and close friends. I hope you’ve seen in your daddy’s care of me how amazing warm approval or admiration from ONE man is. I don’t know if I can express how extremely satisfying it is to be respected and to receive thoughtful gratitude from those we know. My Julia, we all know this has nothing to do with the product with which we wash our hair, the color of our eye shadow or the purse on our hip. Aim for something higher. Something eternal. Something that will be stored up for you in heaven. Love the God who created you and KNOWS you. Love the people God gives you. Let your light shine. This is true beauty.<br />
<br />
“People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.” <br />
~Elisabeth Kubler-Ross<br />
<br />
From within, my girl, sparkle and shine. Sparkle and shine.<br />
<br />
I love you more than you will ever know. You are my darling girl.<br />
<br />
Goodbye, 14. Hello, 15!<br />
<br />
<br />Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-65418134556853876542016-12-25T11:27:00.000-06:002017-01-24T11:28:20.672-06:00Christmas Letter 2016<br />
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I keep telling myself that one of these Christmases I am going to use the "outtakes" of the Christmas pictures for the card. All of our yuletide greetings would be a lot more entertaining. I have pictures of us at the beach where in one take we are all serious with the discipline face, complete with finger cocked in scolding position and in the next frame, all smiles and joy-ever- after-Hallmark happy. This year as I was setting up the tripod I broke one of the legs off and it became a very short tripod so this year we are all sitting DOWN— and because now our kids are older, they sit still just fine- no vice grip on the toddler arm- and we are finished in like 15 minutes. {Hang in there, young mommas. Your 15 minute session is on the horizon. Quicker than you can imagine.} Still, one year I am going to send you a really funny card. <br />
<br />
We officially have two teenagers in the house this Christmas. So far, so good and so very different than even just one year ago. Inches have been gained, tweener pounds have disappeared, toys have all but disappeared, bathroom drawers have lots of new things filling them, conversations have changed, and sleep has become a hot commodity for them both- and if they sleep late enough, you're down to 2 meals— brunch and dinner! It's astounding the rate at which all of this happens— and NO ONE prepares you! It's all very normal - heels, razors, make up, zit cream, phones, cologne, homecoming…. but it hits you before you, as a mom, are ready for it. {These are the things people don't tell you—- and it makes me wonder, what else are THEY not telling us?!}<br />
<br />
Julia and Brighton made the switch to our public school district this year which was definitely bittersweet. Bitter— losing the time we've had at home together for the last 9 years, the flexibility of our schedule and leaving a university model school full of incredible families, friends and staff. The sweet part— MY KIDS ARE IN SCHOOL FIVE DAYS A WEEK!!!!!!! EVERY morning they go. The consistency astonishes me. Seriously though, it has been an easy transition as the Lord provided them with friends WAY before we made the switch. Both are in classes with people they have known since they were toddlers and have made brand spanking new friends who I've never met and maybe won't ever— which is strange for moms like me coming from a homeschool/small school history. But as I said, so far, so good. The decision has felt right since the summer and we have had a great and interesting time learning the ways of public school. Dinner conversations are quite fascinating some nights. I am impressed by the availability of the kids' teachers and their willingness to help. God has His people everywhere-strategically— and I pray we are fulfilling our role.<br />
<br />
Julia continues with ballet spending about six or seven hours at the studio per week. Her movements are lovely and graceful and I really love to watch her dance. Brighton plays the sport in season. His football practice started at 6:45 am every school morning so that was new to him but he stuck it out and we saw him improve and contribute the second half of the season. And I've always said- and it's a favorite thing to me about him— he's worth his weight in gold on the sidelines. They are still taking piano….. and I know there will be a year I won't be able to type that but so far, we are hanging on. : )<br />
<br />
Jeff and I are doing great. I married a good one, for sure. All of my overreactions in parenting are tempered by his steady voice telling me everything is going to be okay. We find ourselves scratching our heads in confusion at times but then we find ourselves praying to the One who knows and loves our kids better than we do. Only God can shape their hearts and grow their desire to love and serve Him.<br />
"The thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn."<br />
Jesus brings hope- the THRILL of hope— to our weary selves. Bask in the glorious celebration and morning of Christmas. He makes all things NEW. We love you.<br />
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Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-15982432837170670382016-12-15T11:26:00.000-06:002018-02-26T11:26:44.726-06:00Pericope No. 17: Fall to Winter 2016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I am going to do better than this-- one day-- Not all of these things needs its own separate posts but maybe I should do a couple of months at a time and maybe something DOES need it own post. But these are the posts my kids like the most. More pictures. Less words. ; ) </div>
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This HHH bike ride in Wichita Falls has become a tradition.</div>
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I love lake days and this one was late summer-- maybe our last hurrah! Grateful for our friend, the Jordans who seem to be up for anything most anytime!</div>
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7th grade McLean football</div>
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We've loved this girl long. Basden, you are so special to our family.</div>
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First Baylor football game EVER!</div>
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Ben Rector. Yes. Ben. Texas A&M for the first time. All 4 of us went!</div>
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Public School can wear you out!</div>
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Wouldn't miss our Fair tradition for anything! Played hooky and headed to Dallas!<br />
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Prayed for our girl right here before she was born. We chose her.<br />
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First homecoming! Great story. </div>
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Sweet date.</div>
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13 birthday dinner</div>
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13th birthday party</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw35JtBJGqeV-CmbN4-_17a4yeT1DZ0Ivs6Z8LB2mdohGBgPZEr8CEGp05hy8bS8GoK1ffMhgjGK08iWtro4qlXafnJuED28P91LZoceu3yGb9FGMA4-Mq6okscztVoQ-FWLVfj772I58/s1600/IMG_4332.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw35JtBJGqeV-CmbN4-_17a4yeT1DZ0Ivs6Z8LB2mdohGBgPZEr8CEGp05hy8bS8GoK1ffMhgjGK08iWtro4qlXafnJuED28P91LZoceu3yGb9FGMA4-Mq6okscztVoQ-FWLVfj772I58/s640/IMG_4332.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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13 and 14 for 3 months!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWlmi0k_aBfGWUtT5TjeOPpsvTjWUOSaBGoOh_xBOllxtcWaIRqv0LVnruGOq58yxN0WkVjJ5QcYCxSI7-ErEuUIlVREWkevZwfkhEsUAPsjPiV99jRxGZEZoruJ8EaihmqYtlgFFhHpA/s1600/15392802_1539320309417594_6444821584501329846_o.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWlmi0k_aBfGWUtT5TjeOPpsvTjWUOSaBGoOh_xBOllxtcWaIRqv0LVnruGOq58yxN0WkVjJ5QcYCxSI7-ErEuUIlVREWkevZwfkhEsUAPsjPiV99jRxGZEZoruJ8EaihmqYtlgFFhHpA/s640/15392802_1539320309417594_6444821584501329846_o.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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This happened. </div>
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We met the man who seemed to write the soundtrack of my teenage, college, early married to now years!! What a fun night. <br />
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A little praise on her spiritual birthday!</div>
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Mother Daughter 2016!!! What a BLESSING to do this with THESE GIRLS year after year. God's grace is overwhelming.<br />
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My "identity" that Julia wrote for me. She thinks she's funny.</div>
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My heart is FULL to OVERFLOWING after weekends like this. <br />
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Always so happy to have my parents here. </div>
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My daddy-- the best and most intentional shopper EVER. EVER.<br />
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First quinceanera-- with Atlee!</div>
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The turkey....</div>
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First selfie with the SELFIE STICK!</div>
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You are ALWAYS UP FOR THIS! Thank you!</div>
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Thanksgiving 2016-- maybe my favorite so far??</div>
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Just so THANKFUL</div>
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I loved all of these kids long. So near and dear to my heart because I LOVE their parents so.</div>
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Annual Christmas shopping trip!! </div>
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Getting ready for a wedding in a bathroom while Jeff gets a quick hair cut!</div>
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Our angel playing an angel in the Ballet Concerto's Holiday Spectacular!<br />
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Hosted the Shoreline {youth} ministry team for their party. Grateful for this group of people!<br />
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Star Wars.... I forget which one... but a BIG DEAL to the one on the right.</div>
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Took these girls ice skating the last day of school . </div>
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A lot happens between fall and winter and I am grateful for the time and resources to do it-- but most of all THE PEOPLE WE GET TO DO THESE THINGS WITH. Nothing can replace relationships and I am beyond thankful for the friends and family in my life!!Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-71769263683835043802016-12-09T10:48:00.003-06:002016-12-09T10:51:49.631-06:00A Reminder from Julia to Me to You<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The Spirit of Christmas</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> by Julia, age 10</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I love Christmastime with its festive lights and colors. It comes only once a year with trees and Santa Claus and reindeer and wishes of good cheer. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">People fill the stores— traffic jams and long, long lines are the stressful part of Christmas this year, but on Christmas Eve the presents come unwrapped and joy fills the air.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And you hear the story of the years gone by when the story of the Savior fills the ears and we remember the real and the true meaning of Christmas. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Not the lights or the tree not even the presents but how Jesus came to save the world and love us all the years. So please, remember the beautiful story of that Midnight Clear.</span><br />
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She wrote that on Christmas day 2012— had to have been while in Soperton and I wonder now what all was going on when she penned it. Was she still anticipating our big Christmas at Nana and Papa's or was it over and she was reflecting? I don't know— a mere four years later— but I love it. I know it's not terribly original. It follows the same pattern of other poems and songs- even movies and conversations we've had as a family, but at 10 years old, it was original to her. Those thoughts were stored within her somewhere and they came out like that. She was beginning to get it. <br />
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And I'm still "getting it". Just last week, I had to pull myself away from all of the Christmas boxes littering the house to check my heart regarding my own mental to do list that no one else could see but me. I had to let go of any expectations I had of anyone but myself and decide to enjoy preparing the house for Christmas………….until the outside garland lights wouldn't come on.… and then Saturday when the tree lights wouldn't come on. Y'all — I think if we looked close enough-somewhere on that little white tag of clear lights on a green electrical cord, it would say, "Made in H-E double hockey sticks". Seriously. They are so beautiful and cheery but maybe after 5 years, they turn diabolical or something. They stole SO MUCH time from us last weekend. I may not know traffic jams, really or even terribly long lines, but I know the distractions of Christmas. I don't even have to leave my house. <br />
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And that's why I zero in on my two favorite phrases in her little poem— "the story of the years gone by" and "[Jesus came to] love us all the years" . That's what I want to be distracted by…. THAT story and THAT love. Wouldn't it be so wonderful to get so caught up in the story of Christmas that we just plain forgot to buy the presents? Or make the candy? Or send out the cards? Just take a minute to turn the world around — we live so upside down, don't we? Imagine if we had to really work at remembering to buy and wrap presents instead of why we are celebrating, why God sent Jesus to us — in the flesh— the fullness of time {Galatians 4:4} bursting forth this part of the plan when time could hold it no longer. "The time came for the baby to be born." {Luke 2:6} Emmanuel. God, here, with us. He has come as closely as He possibly can. <br />
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It is THE story of the years to remind us year after year that He came to save us and love us all the years. <br />
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I don't want to miss any of it. I don’t want to miss any of Him. I’m so grateful for all the years.<br />
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Let's let that be a little distraction for us.<br />
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<br />Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-38900532760235628182016-11-05T16:24:00.000-05:002017-06-19T10:23:56.686-05:00Small Town Wedding It's hard to describe a small town wedding but you know me— I'm going to give it my best shot…. especially when it's my own, small town, that is. Especially when it's the first born of my favorite brother. When this boy came to us October of 1992, I had just gotten married and lived about 3 hours away. That was bad but not as bad as when Jeff and I packed up and moved to Texas adding about 12 MORE hours between us. Now, I was excited about the move to Texas but I was NOT excited about being that far away from family, especially that little baby boy who had stolen my heart. I kind of knew we wouldn't be back. I knew Texas would become our home— and it has but all those years ago I determined that I would figure this aunt/nephew {and then later aunt/niece} thing out from 15 hours away. Some things worked and some didn't. I could have done much more and there are things I regret missing, but over the years something worked. And we know each other. And they know how much I love them. I've been known to tear up at random texts or pictures they send— just to know I was missed or that they wanted to share something with me. I teased RJ at his rehearsal dinner that I was honored to get pictures of baseball injuries over the years. I doubt I missed a one. That counts for something, right?! But the biggest honor was the question to Jeff, "Will you perform our wedding ceremony?" Honor. To get to be a part of the months leading up to that big day and for Jeff to lead them through the covenant of marriage….. no words work.<br />
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Not even a set of pictures or videos can recreate an experience and they certainly can't stand in for what makes these kinds of things so very special. As I watched my nephew get married that weekend in October, I was reminded of the only thing that makes life as sweet as it can possibly be— relationships. No value can be placed upon them— they are simply God's grace to us in the form of people. What joy comes from an event if there is no one with which to share it? How much richer a life changing moment is when people who love you are there to celebrate it with you. Relationships. His gifts to us— gift upon gift upon gift……And our family is undeservedly blessed to love many and to be loved by many. You know who you are. It’s all grace. YOU are grace. <br />
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Talk about grace. Seriously. This girl. I remember when RJ called me-- or texted-- honestly feel like it was a real-live conversation but maybe not-- after their first or second date. “She’s great. I know you are really going to like her.” And he was spot on. “Like" is a mild word, really. We couldn’t have combed the world over and picked anyone more suited for RJ and the family. This one is special. Megan, I am so very thankful for you. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiImBtaDLQkRotm0yesordK1IQSBf5BWqynDUnaoeJ7jxxH27417Jpmot3UP-xW7rVjpQY4hFOrwC939R3ABFFin2Z-mAs3b6WCRKKM3jmwRWO5nxHEpKJYZjXJz7LNuDtOqwfQF26j7AY/s1600/IMG_4369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiImBtaDLQkRotm0yesordK1IQSBf5BWqynDUnaoeJ7jxxH27417Jpmot3UP-xW7rVjpQY4hFOrwC939R3ABFFin2Z-mAs3b6WCRKKM3jmwRWO5nxHEpKJYZjXJz7LNuDtOqwfQF26j7AY/s640/IMG_4369.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy keeps things lively-- he’s a favorite to have around.</td></tr>
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I got to Soperton a couple of days ahead of my family which was such a treat. I had missed all of the wedding festivities being so far away so I was itching to get there! This sweet niece of mine surprised us by coming home a little earlier than expected which made my night! Blake cooked a yummy meal on his egg in his “man world” in the backyard. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqM3c59Lvc9UIcwdfiLPvbHzJHWS8YWPM42WL-9esSOTvYyYu8w5_f5MKjhmxXgjErU2uv4zO8l9JNDKu-RF89gKlsvQji-DLOqtvz5BRhRyRjdRmurqCSO3l4SO2ySjvTU2GFt1mKqOQ/s1600/IMG_4403.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqM3c59Lvc9UIcwdfiLPvbHzJHWS8YWPM42WL-9esSOTvYyYu8w5_f5MKjhmxXgjErU2uv4zO8l9JNDKu-RF89gKlsvQji-DLOqtvz5BRhRyRjdRmurqCSO3l4SO2ySjvTU2GFt1mKqOQ/s640/IMG_4403.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love her t-shirt. It was the last day she could wear it. Her energy around Nana’s house buzzed all day. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW5AAhmNhyphenhyphenQptTdvTNz3FHxFf4wEeCdy6STZ_wxJ9Jru_ayq8Eb-p9z1FVnQQXfyjMgThx5O3pjcr09cswAqPMBpG-DqsOwrh2xkPyLNyoXsUIdzdQoIdRzTEe6kRivQTTu_GBZ4-6ucQ/s1600/IMG_4404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW5AAhmNhyphenhyphenQptTdvTNz3FHxFf4wEeCdy6STZ_wxJ9Jru_ayq8Eb-p9z1FVnQQXfyjMgThx5O3pjcr09cswAqPMBpG-DqsOwrh2xkPyLNyoXsUIdzdQoIdRzTEe6kRivQTTu_GBZ4-6ucQ/s640/IMG_4404.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You’ll see a lot of camouflage... because a lot of hunting took place.. even the morning of the wedding.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalcp2liZgjGVKse-8YEqJxlTHHPp5dnqqF6MZQXAH7_XSTLTfKIINq2bAzNzN0KEcAEN7Rw4RTPI4-YW23zLMpU9EtMm4yy0Unwg-v8n27ziPoBXfo2fLrNukLvi_zIi1dKOPD2H_tnE/s1600/IMG_4415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgalcp2liZgjGVKse-8YEqJxlTHHPp5dnqqF6MZQXAH7_XSTLTfKIINq2bAzNzN0KEcAEN7Rw4RTPI4-YW23zLMpU9EtMm4yy0Unwg-v8n27ziPoBXfo2fLrNukLvi_zIi1dKOPD2H_tnE/s640/IMG_4415.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jeff, Julia and Brighton made it in time for the rehearsal.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqo1P_xf55tYiXmD3fT-SjJSgT6SgaA5sU-G4abG2Ao7avdaj3tun4PFeE-OkF57ZnqFF-UfvhJG1BmyGD3y9KrDABbveYRhGwP29FvTHlODPWnWnZAw_Sk-9ldgkLy1-xyR01i45bNgM/s1600/IMG_0644.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqo1P_xf55tYiXmD3fT-SjJSgT6SgaA5sU-G4abG2Ao7avdaj3tun4PFeE-OkF57ZnqFF-UfvhJG1BmyGD3y9KrDABbveYRhGwP29FvTHlODPWnWnZAw_Sk-9ldgkLy1-xyR01i45bNgM/s640/IMG_0644.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three Favorites.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgegEsv2LwMZMt9Jx64fE4rrpdL5HEEUbwX_NlptAO1QikwQPscwf8BiLrSzGRgfGTohJNPCHoTWrjzIRVfOdBnbTkOIKmG7fS7-uNslZbRhCfa4ZfQ3G1s34R86ayCH6a3elpP6dWDm4E/s1600/IMG_0656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgegEsv2LwMZMt9Jx64fE4rrpdL5HEEUbwX_NlptAO1QikwQPscwf8BiLrSzGRgfGTohJNPCHoTWrjzIRVfOdBnbTkOIKmG7fS7-uNslZbRhCfa4ZfQ3G1s34R86ayCH6a3elpP6dWDm4E/s640/IMG_0656.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I couldn’t resist this pic of Blakes’s sweet little pose.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrJT95xn9gAeQ2hLyqx_HzpUr5UhS-jG0-OUM77qghIKK66xWRs013J59FmojiwMWFbGJyHWbL0Qll4xNN7PSw9lNBmqTDcN1V_kIHjPHhR6ZItH1bW17kFrydQ-sIxghfwXw2uKfwchk/s1600/IMG_4424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrJT95xn9gAeQ2hLyqx_HzpUr5UhS-jG0-OUM77qghIKK66xWRs013J59FmojiwMWFbGJyHWbL0Qll4xNN7PSw9lNBmqTDcN1V_kIHjPHhR6ZItH1bW17kFrydQ-sIxghfwXw2uKfwchk/s640/IMG_4424.jpg" width="452" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jeff and I were married right here as were Blake and Adele. Our church -- as any church - was not/is not perfect but it’s my home church and so many significant things happened here for me. This place is full of people who loved me well and taught me profound things. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhamuygTxE-Mx1cu-i2VYiw-clujgc-gAMYWzFQWV9y4mLp9JHAHIkHOLkAdanfSHpRgO73jJR1oLgbLp6WRXxAKilO9k_EibD81zfQJLTj4D2SKIKslCPl-UMA3cKKl3M0TF774EHjSIk/s1600/IMG_0670.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhamuygTxE-Mx1cu-i2VYiw-clujgc-gAMYWzFQWV9y4mLp9JHAHIkHOLkAdanfSHpRgO73jJR1oLgbLp6WRXxAKilO9k_EibD81zfQJLTj4D2SKIKslCPl-UMA3cKKl3M0TF774EHjSIk/s640/IMG_0670.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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If you are not from the South, I am not sure if you are ready for the next picture. So brace yourself. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0A1Z0rknBo-on-Zd7d_cy0tsWSS1_l6h5-_qYVSkVRE7UVeTxaF1WDp8-HvkGpudDPCZ6J8rEB8Sy7-h9abkZhhyphenhyphenMHA_6Kf6N0pyhrrf_SuprK0qlKJ7-QyQBmfcF360dtpNSttZQ2-I/s1600/IMG_0672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0A1Z0rknBo-on-Zd7d_cy0tsWSS1_l6h5-_qYVSkVRE7UVeTxaF1WDp8-HvkGpudDPCZ6J8rEB8Sy7-h9abkZhhyphenhyphenMHA_6Kf6N0pyhrrf_SuprK0qlKJ7-QyQBmfcF360dtpNSttZQ2-I/s640/IMG_0672.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I know. Yes. That’s a pig. A real one. And as the menu says “pik’n” pronounced “pickin”-- no “ing”. Got it? And the second “yes” is that yes, you PICK it OFF the pig and then you EAT it. I know. It’s a tad disturbing. I cannot convince you that it’s yummy because I know you cannot get past the ears, and eyes and nose. A true Southern girl just looks at the meat and nothing else. NO lady, I don’t care where she’s from, embraces the whole head thing. Can’t. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisDbIevIYdYAKxJgqjzo2J3ZGCpirfcYOhrbFAal30ihRKZRM9r851NY09fdwViQSx4IzGARGY5o77KW1esK7iQ1llraVs_gc0WGaqJe4ekK9m-9wcRFCGHLJBrZGRGlkgvSClxjznzig/s1600/IMG_4452.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisDbIevIYdYAKxJgqjzo2J3ZGCpirfcYOhrbFAal30ihRKZRM9r851NY09fdwViQSx4IzGARGY5o77KW1esK7iQ1llraVs_gc0WGaqJe4ekK9m-9wcRFCGHLJBrZGRGlkgvSClxjznzig/s640/IMG_4452.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And there they go. But it’s a party, y’all.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ_qKCUazMYjjzHwa94LE9yzjpTpA3A9ezYJ5_CY3OL0VO7BERAN1TAP7KABgKrsFKFUFtdvIYyqgCJ8iQtbVDuvI9YlmqsnVXWODPl8kVY7xTa8mOX9afgxepc_X-c24pRAWywh-MRJo/s1600/IMG_0676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ_qKCUazMYjjzHwa94LE9yzjpTpA3A9ezYJ5_CY3OL0VO7BERAN1TAP7KABgKrsFKFUFtdvIYyqgCJ8iQtbVDuvI9YlmqsnVXWODPl8kVY7xTa8mOX9afgxepc_X-c24pRAWywh-MRJo/s640/IMG_0676.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love these two.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFsgIiqKFu_OfpVN6zBq7ubpQTK21Iq6N44mdzqd9nm17TeHhcfqrEOZ_W3J-b_Og6ivaJ31IvQXm_zVohECZGTy89aJArxb5jSmmfldVM3zo4Rf29sa3agcZZjW42J_WyP_wLGBPePbI/s1600/IMG_0680.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFsgIiqKFu_OfpVN6zBq7ubpQTK21Iq6N44mdzqd9nm17TeHhcfqrEOZ_W3J-b_Og6ivaJ31IvQXm_zVohECZGTy89aJArxb5jSmmfldVM3zo4Rf29sa3agcZZjW42J_WyP_wLGBPePbI/s640/IMG_0680.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cousins.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28pS3nhrlLm3Gbi5HaKuSbTBx_RuLOjg5Nboi-ZrEJJkX1hKAHQbOfAmHIm9_JK6lMTNKVRgPeFg243vCzovA0g6O-aQKbnZJR578pc8OPuCqCuW0mv1szIaqP3uS-EkgDfuQvk0iWRU/s1600/IMG_0681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28pS3nhrlLm3Gbi5HaKuSbTBx_RuLOjg5Nboi-ZrEJJkX1hKAHQbOfAmHIm9_JK6lMTNKVRgPeFg243vCzovA0g6O-aQKbnZJR578pc8OPuCqCuW0mv1szIaqP3uS-EkgDfuQvk0iWRU/s640/IMG_0681.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Proud mommas and daddys.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6LT-n1-WfadXxhFnWeBKvIXJzywrjdqrLh6pGiv9sPGg1gi0ryVaKGLZ81tN5wB0-S1Y1_L3PhaQuA-MgJKPwgZCrb4fHlOO5MQwz_DiRF__Thll6yB6QlVjKU6uFnW7pwWdSqdBksRI/s1600/IMG_4455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6LT-n1-WfadXxhFnWeBKvIXJzywrjdqrLh6pGiv9sPGg1gi0ryVaKGLZ81tN5wB0-S1Y1_L3PhaQuA-MgJKPwgZCrb4fHlOO5MQwz_DiRF__Thll6yB6QlVjKU6uFnW7pwWdSqdBksRI/s640/IMG_4455.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Many kind things were said at the rehearsal dinner but this childhood friend and neighbor, Blake, stole the show. He’s a good and faithful friend.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhybZ4EejoFa2gmBa15Ur7UAsA5h5SH3Vu7B04IDWYfknK1EZN72LFiVj3ZdzxBFOTmLg5TzFn6ujAMqyiA1jI11vw7ejjzCuTqNYirBwfJzNZ921rllMXJeMjKsl7BHGR1y6FZF1A7vqk/s1600/IMG_4484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhybZ4EejoFa2gmBa15Ur7UAsA5h5SH3Vu7B04IDWYfknK1EZN72LFiVj3ZdzxBFOTmLg5TzFn6ujAMqyiA1jI11vw7ejjzCuTqNYirBwfJzNZ921rllMXJeMjKsl7BHGR1y6FZF1A7vqk/s640/IMG_4484.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saturday morning I gathered these beauties {Confederate Roses} from Mom’s yard for the Wedding Day Brunch.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1v61iNSPCwjxA2cOQuT3HvQ1i_Krq30bVfMXBCkg5qJnC3JjaC7M-z7LFMh7Fn2hsajeVVOdhmw-PQmaZemQYRLx_Sw7sqdGZTmVyXxZzz9ERBZ2rA6xKu2roob30OkXbfSVxWdmXa5U/s1600/IMG_4495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1v61iNSPCwjxA2cOQuT3HvQ1i_Krq30bVfMXBCkg5qJnC3JjaC7M-z7LFMh7Fn2hsajeVVOdhmw-PQmaZemQYRLx_Sw7sqdGZTmVyXxZzz9ERBZ2rA6xKu2roob30OkXbfSVxWdmXa5U/s640/IMG_4495.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI3gs2J7C6ND4llF__saMaPLta5unKMMUyv0LHiNAzOe5o59EiVaSHA8EQKg3iK5dfGH3ePeHVxeh5g74_5NpzyTDQHZz19bAndgsp_wHqQLcQ-K1-LVnvbn0Z_t1xqPhCpMb1TTYLXFs/s1600/IMG_4497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI3gs2J7C6ND4llF__saMaPLta5unKMMUyv0LHiNAzOe5o59EiVaSHA8EQKg3iK5dfGH3ePeHVxeh5g74_5NpzyTDQHZz19bAndgsp_wHqQLcQ-K1-LVnvbn0Z_t1xqPhCpMb1TTYLXFs/s640/IMG_4497.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom, untangling the asparagus fern</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisOcf9PyElNFL0rmUoZAb_8_EsdD7ZTwT0pz8Fh2F8poTHx5AP3TXrR2x0K3OfBVdeTgL1rWoK5AMKAxHaVBnUnJ83aQRuTvFXJXPwepFA112hA1pXdVzMN6G9QME6oREjAuLwrlEEHcg/s1600/IMG_0693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisOcf9PyElNFL0rmUoZAb_8_EsdD7ZTwT0pz8Fh2F8poTHx5AP3TXrR2x0K3OfBVdeTgL1rWoK5AMKAxHaVBnUnJ83aQRuTvFXJXPwepFA112hA1pXdVzMN6G9QME6oREjAuLwrlEEHcg/s640/IMG_0693.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Megan’s sister did her make up. Something tells me they have done this a few times before!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE38zu7rt9OotwbJDIL2qzRGaQNUE1-oMq_XByckHPqazstMV3H22vNpNcziUzjIO_Tba3KOkERMFRvb7YWC1ETo9rC3K1RJi0dLrkynLZqc8RdkV9ufBCn4K_C9LMf-FRC8_Cq6SSto4/s1600/IMG_0711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE38zu7rt9OotwbJDIL2qzRGaQNUE1-oMq_XByckHPqazstMV3H22vNpNcziUzjIO_Tba3KOkERMFRvb7YWC1ETo9rC3K1RJi0dLrkynLZqc8RdkV9ufBCn4K_C9LMf-FRC8_Cq6SSto4/s640/IMG_0711.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil49FhjPa3XtS5IoTOmizN5YpixSYXvfveX8vUjPeePg6JfnFxui3L8jEyw2z1rLAmNb0y_256feOspWU-xW187dJHOwBMC4w4uEKg82Vgl8nYZYbT2CYVReLVU9AhwDPXGMd5rR2VwhI/s1600/IMG_0712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil49FhjPa3XtS5IoTOmizN5YpixSYXvfveX8vUjPeePg6JfnFxui3L8jEyw2z1rLAmNb0y_256feOspWU-xW187dJHOwBMC4w4uEKg82Vgl8nYZYbT2CYVReLVU9AhwDPXGMd5rR2VwhI/s640/IMG_0712.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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I’ve often referred to my parents as a “gatherer of people”. I am sure there is a cuter title or a better word but either way-- they are great at this. Here they are in their element welcoming people to the Wedding Day Brunch-- all their friends and family and out of town guests. I’ve seen this scene many, many times in my life-- Daddy greeting and saying a FEW--never too many-- and SOMETIMES, not always-- awkward words, but they are heartfelt, for sure. {Oh... and momma looking on. She’s fine to let him talk. And doesn’t she look pretty in this picture?} Their graciousness and generosity has come back 1000 fold-- and spilled over onto me and Blake and now we are getting to see it splash on to the 3rd generation. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for all of the seeds sown into our lives by loving and blessing others.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcTRPwb4fEucnoVOGBx50oywmRza4qOm2fhb_D2x1kvOitjq7_wxjo-jGQCc9RfDpjjeAkuSWiQ_lCI-cC8n2wl8vPDY-hpSY9W4RW4RXffjqRFTWFbkfW7oYxFbiQLyBXp39rPpv1bM/s1600/IMG_0718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcTRPwb4fEucnoVOGBx50oywmRza4qOm2fhb_D2x1kvOitjq7_wxjo-jGQCc9RfDpjjeAkuSWiQ_lCI-cC8n2wl8vPDY-hpSY9W4RW4RXffjqRFTWFbkfW7oYxFbiQLyBXp39rPpv1bM/s640/IMG_0718.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Friends as LONG AS I CAN REMEMBER. I don’t know Soperton without the Bowers’ family-- and so many other families. But these two-- attached at the hip all growing up. So. Many. Memories. {Notice Brian has on NO camou.}</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQzPK-XsL31TKoR5xQiS_5sBv5izMjm4tiq6smHG_Ej9hsy2CwwCuVMRrb_ifQlK6Ynnp7OYX9zVKW7_EZdWk-Dqosc5O7A-bOorTa4z5WZCXV_DMARx1lt35pqiS-heuz0KPyNrPzllE/s1600/IMG_4519.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQzPK-XsL31TKoR5xQiS_5sBv5izMjm4tiq6smHG_Ej9hsy2CwwCuVMRrb_ifQlK6Ynnp7OYX9zVKW7_EZdWk-Dqosc5O7A-bOorTa4z5WZCXV_DMARx1lt35pqiS-heuz0KPyNrPzllE/s640/IMG_4519.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He’s worried I was going to stick him. I was too.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strike. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5WUdaksCdhbTA_jootQcGwfx7lnheIHb5R2PFdJVCkeRlEO1QWSbPYI0B7tL7GkVpl7BGZlsdm9j574PVes9A-GchIrqCtESzE1nyzXtONyYyx1vvbrloG1HCMt0dBxprOcXEOX48QcM/s1600/IMG_0747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5WUdaksCdhbTA_jootQcGwfx7lnheIHb5R2PFdJVCkeRlEO1QWSbPYI0B7tL7GkVpl7BGZlsdm9j574PVes9A-GchIrqCtESzE1nyzXtONyYyx1vvbrloG1HCMt0dBxprOcXEOX48QcM/s640/IMG_0747.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our amazing Arkansas family-- minus the littles. RJ was cool as a cucumber all weekend but I sense a little anxiety in this picture? </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAum_6-R-_-1J0YmrrRCD79M_5L-9RAL5BLrbcZ9RcUkwLQROCqOgyYiwnccHsx-xHsKKaFtlsbo7VgbzVVUFI8e9YIVqETVAtDk94IXeD5BWHEIb0FiCQbskEaU0wQjFooye2b-Ru2uo/s1600/IMG_4563.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAum_6-R-_-1J0YmrrRCD79M_5L-9RAL5BLrbcZ9RcUkwLQROCqOgyYiwnccHsx-xHsKKaFtlsbo7VgbzVVUFI8e9YIVqETVAtDk94IXeD5BWHEIb0FiCQbskEaU0wQjFooye2b-Ru2uo/s640/IMG_4563.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is a story. There was a cake. It landed on the floor before RJ and Megan came in. Bill had a grand time helping clean it up. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWua2BPwCvHHpW6F_fggcZD8mVLMTj2Io90-y6tMS4hGEz89SYi0QOLklPyxrGbLcYlpflbtj3H2br1vs8JCYGeYR9d3l8p5VT4TSJiIm0lMIWVlz-1brXypB-W5b9Iuoi6nZUKE4l5nw/s1600/IMG_0752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWua2BPwCvHHpW6F_fggcZD8mVLMTj2Io90-y6tMS4hGEz89SYi0QOLklPyxrGbLcYlpflbtj3H2br1vs8JCYGeYR9d3l8p5VT4TSJiIm0lMIWVlz-1brXypB-W5b9Iuoi6nZUKE4l5nw/s640/IMG_0752.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RJ and his pretty momma</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: start;">These next photos were made by Wendy from Apartment B Photography. They were super sweet girls who worked HARD all day!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuaYVISpFWcrgtTmUW3cclANl5f4MGmjj2reTC28YfdorPXs5CDJ2mS-oWbDChbzJzF_jUpCwQhalzZ-xDSGELM935xH28tkFEGQbV7MzCMiCZtYMHOv3zss2SWpC-1LXmYj9-B22emcQ/s1600/15392955_1539376752745283_4958137610454092016_o.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuaYVISpFWcrgtTmUW3cclANl5f4MGmjj2reTC28YfdorPXs5CDJ2mS-oWbDChbzJzF_jUpCwQhalzZ-xDSGELM935xH28tkFEGQbV7MzCMiCZtYMHOv3zss2SWpC-1LXmYj9-B22emcQ/s640/15392955_1539376752745283_4958137610454092016_o.jpeg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can say this-- MY favorite pastor</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWPLmD7slbhQX0xkBPCrqxr-fP0kXSo_Tu-5l8bLc6fi2ZXlFFLQPZK87X5FWo3f907esZ5EncL-g9S3T1iFWy46h9dJvzlXQc9e7GAI7PMv57zJuC6rGYwADoQi2O3Q9rZL0pONfFa1I/s1600/15392802_1539320309417594_6444821584501329846_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWPLmD7slbhQX0xkBPCrqxr-fP0kXSo_Tu-5l8bLc6fi2ZXlFFLQPZK87X5FWo3f907esZ5EncL-g9S3T1iFWy46h9dJvzlXQc9e7GAI7PMv57zJuC6rGYwADoQi2O3Q9rZL0pONfFa1I/s640/15392802_1539320309417594_6444821584501329846_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite picture of the whole day</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMjCt1l1U0J6Sjb30RMj8YNebD9XffwxDjCiznCRaGe6CHMhkSvkQBUhcprsJpvxjed_hupEyTLJzvOcz2hadp76D83rSN_h7NIqO7sK1rs2NG2TlDcEYGCcvsqDb2xJvWTfcuhnGe4kw/s1600/15327483_1539403326075959_1356277689641163458_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMjCt1l1U0J6Sjb30RMj8YNebD9XffwxDjCiznCRaGe6CHMhkSvkQBUhcprsJpvxjed_hupEyTLJzvOcz2hadp76D83rSN_h7NIqO7sK1rs2NG2TlDcEYGCcvsqDb2xJvWTfcuhnGe4kw/s400/15327483_1539403326075959_1356277689641163458_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cousins-- Brighton was outside duct taping RJ’s trailer hitch. Yikes.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSIOVVdfVwHzoC_MqUtc5tMgK6s6uh2QQPU-JLPmkh9UkT30iMmHf-zxfGpqvNw5MU2T8ymmOf7_UnmXXXZorc_1c86H91vgjxmy4DribcOav_3nOyjD6NgSmstYMK9DIlYAYwZo3FaDc/s1600/15327367_1539410449408580_8430316381756809787_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSIOVVdfVwHzoC_MqUtc5tMgK6s6uh2QQPU-JLPmkh9UkT30iMmHf-zxfGpqvNw5MU2T8ymmOf7_UnmXXXZorc_1c86H91vgjxmy4DribcOav_3nOyjD6NgSmstYMK9DIlYAYwZo3FaDc/s640/15327367_1539410449408580_8430316381756809787_n.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Julia and Ivey</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEZJtN2zkLj6jGzsU4WSdn4G-TZnb4259CT_kL3rDEDsA7rQtLrean3Zcc-qHp4IbCIgLwjb4E44iGP5m3EWIO7fomuXqRiyGCNjKM8pnH1rUDJ7zWtbqeBhbpni0rhzfui0pnJI8Hcxc/s1600/15439994_1539417466074545_5766424191521068921_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEZJtN2zkLj6jGzsU4WSdn4G-TZnb4259CT_kL3rDEDsA7rQtLrean3Zcc-qHp4IbCIgLwjb4E44iGP5m3EWIO7fomuXqRiyGCNjKM8pnH1rUDJ7zWtbqeBhbpni0rhzfui0pnJI8Hcxc/s640/15439994_1539417466074545_5766424191521068921_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fun shot</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QmNJAYgRCqGFU1zEIHfS-P-hvu0vhdT0f46O9TY_YJ3nDkOe_Z-WFEfPYu9aKrVXOY6tq3O9_C4PsjdjmS1tE6-gcNiRINSPX6Rk1ZSDDUWfFxiZRITDQ7Sa0Gwleg8atc6LBJfZS70/s1600/15391473_1539343566081935_6018052593693467351_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QmNJAYgRCqGFU1zEIHfS-P-hvu0vhdT0f46O9TY_YJ3nDkOe_Z-WFEfPYu9aKrVXOY6tq3O9_C4PsjdjmS1tE6-gcNiRINSPX6Rk1ZSDDUWfFxiZRITDQ7Sa0Gwleg8atc6LBJfZS70/s640/15391473_1539343566081935_6018052593693467351_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKVW_5HpyJRleJ2NQoopKPmRnKJvSrGrpqLjPJ9iUI3oiwtFRHHHSF5qIw7CyyPVE1y4kZhqngD11DujeBmjgfqjF0dG_Krlg0FrhXNqWjtCa7JiRywfHv2NGQ_LQOCjqhwvod1gTj2HA/s1600/15338672_1539328586083433_366638834779260245_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKVW_5HpyJRleJ2NQoopKPmRnKJvSrGrpqLjPJ9iUI3oiwtFRHHHSF5qIw7CyyPVE1y4kZhqngD11DujeBmjgfqjF0dG_Krlg0FrhXNqWjtCa7JiRywfHv2NGQ_LQOCjqhwvod1gTj2HA/s640/15338672_1539328586083433_366638834779260245_n.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDTex0Co3HTmUXHK7_CFyft0IqHiEyd8nCJihvbXYJVxacSgqOn4H8J5RvCc410Cs-MfYwulA1FXhGGA4lWBCE9Q95syU0CODkGpTAYNpzOnbxqVk_Ub4ZbUQ4jaxTXOS4y1ntD7ziRsE/s1600/IMG_4592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDTex0Co3HTmUXHK7_CFyft0IqHiEyd8nCJihvbXYJVxacSgqOn4H8J5RvCc410Cs-MfYwulA1FXhGGA4lWBCE9Q95syU0CODkGpTAYNpzOnbxqVk_Ub4ZbUQ4jaxTXOS4y1ntD7ziRsE/s640/IMG_4592.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These girls danced ALL night......in shoes that weren’t made for dancing.</td></tr>
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<br />
Well, Soperton. You were wonderful. I’m not talking about the places, or even the food, but YOU-- friends and family, YOU were wonderful. Thank you for loving our family and celebrating with us. We all have much to be thankful for and RJ and Megan’s wedding weekend was solid evidence of that. You know who you are-- we love you and are better people for having you in our lives. <br />
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RJ and Megan-- it was an HONOR to be a small part of it. I am SO proud of both of you-- WHO you are. It will be a joy to watch you over the years. I just know it. I love you both. Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381423588474520645.post-28084726237562516642016-10-24T11:09:00.000-05:002017-07-11T18:54:44.038-05:00A Letter to a 13 Year Old Boy: Brighton’s Birthday Letter 2016Dear Brighton,<br />
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When you were three— blonde hair flopping around your darling face with those bright eyes— it was hard to imagine you grown up. The days of Thomas the Train and Matchbox cars seemed endless as does now your need for clean clothes and showers. Your long self fills your bottom bunk and somehow this fall, you have almost caught up to mine and Julia’s 5’7” frame. I’m okay with that, but your sister won’t be. I don’t think she’s noticed yet. <br />
<br />
You are thirteen— a teenager. I forgot to ask you if you were a “real teenager”. When Julia turned thirteen 21 months ago, you were quick to tell her that 13 wasn’t really a teenager-- saying that the 13th year was just for pretending, but 14 would be the real deal. We’ve barely had time to talk about your becoming a teenager—- and YOU are the kid that would really have something to say about such an event. A couple of friends of ours came over the night before and gave you a “charge” so to speak. I wanted to push my way in and hear all of it but I didn’t. It was “men” time and you will just have to tell me about it. I am grateful for kind and strong men in your life who love you and want to see the best of you in the years to come. <br />
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So what does a momma have to say to her, now, teenage boy? I’ve been thinking about this for a while because I have read many amazing letters through the years. But only I know you like I do and I want my words to come from that place— knowing you as a mother knows her son. Most of that will be just be between you and me. I can’t let all my secrets out about you right now, can I? Some of those things are for me to know and me only.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7nfSI18Cjt13Jc6iVKTLmGv4q0DXbNQKMpttbfahNt5TSVptc3uBVqD52gnd5_2Y1sbPbNzMTDz3Npb0nBMVIykXYneS3ZPTTQ33HtthuwWdonfOPN4Zl-TE2yHGtIdulGhfJBErAwxk/s1600/IMG_2024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7nfSI18Cjt13Jc6iVKTLmGv4q0DXbNQKMpttbfahNt5TSVptc3uBVqD52gnd5_2Y1sbPbNzMTDz3Npb0nBMVIykXYneS3ZPTTQ33HtthuwWdonfOPN4Zl-TE2yHGtIdulGhfJBErAwxk/s640/IMG_2024.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You needed a haircut and you were resistant to pictures for the very first time. So.........I’ll try harder next year or make your daddy do it ; )</td></tr>
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There are many things that can be said to a 13 year old boy— and I will probably say most of it at one point or another because I am like that— wanting to cover it all, trying not to miss anything important, using lots of words. And I know how much you LOVE that. However, only one thing is needed— a vibrant, growing relationship with Jesus, the One who loves you more than I do and the One who holds you in the palm of His hand, and the One who has plans and purposes for your life that I know nothing about,,,,,,,, yet. This one things covers a multitude of conversations. But to send you from our home, loving Jesus with whole hearted devotion, committing to following Him all of your days, serving Him with courage and integrity— what more could I ask for? And if I care about anything else a whole, whole lot, I need to check my own heart. <br />
<br />
You're spiritually minded. It’s in your head. I think a lot has descended into your heart but much is still in your head. You think about God and, right now, you want to do the right thing. You are quick to admit wrong and quick to ask for forgiveness. But like many of us, especially your momma, very slow to change. You’re 13 so I know we still have much foolishness to wade through— spur of the moment bad decisions, words you’ll wish you’d never said, grades that won’t reflect your capabilities, girls who aren’t for you, actions you’ll wish you’d never put your hands and feet to— it’s all part of growing up. All part of learning as you mature. But of course my prayer is that those things will never satisfy, that they would come up empty and disappointing— and that the consequences would be an effective teacher to steer you back to wisdom and not have to follow you the rest of your days. <br />
<br />
I hope you will find much satisfaction and FUN in days well chosen, days well lived— that seeing the difference is more obvious to you than when someone takes your Halloween candy. ; ) Instead of feeling hemmed in or trapped, I pray you would feel the freedom you DO have and run free and clear in the space laid out for you— and that you would feel that the boundary lines have fallen for you in pleasant places. And Brighton, this is where you’ll find blessing. That word is real- “blessing”. It is thrown around a lot, but when it comes to God and “blessing”, it’s a big deal. With obedience comes blessing. It may not be the blessings for which you are hoping, but over the long haul- living faithfully before the Lord and WITH Him, there is blessing-- like you will never know anywhere else. And I am as sure of that as I am knowing where your Halloween candy is. ; )<br />
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So, that’s the page, darling, that anything else I could ever say is written ON. Having that kind of relationship with the Lord—that’s the piece of paper I’d write any other advice on. Without that relationship, nothing else will work or matter a hill of beans. <br />
<br />
Even with the relationship intact, much temptation will come. And remember, temptation is NOT sin. Only your response to it has potential for sin. This is where your strength has to kick in— those muscles of courage and bravery we’re trying to have you exercise because Brighton, there will be situations where YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE choosing to have courage and say, “no way”. This may make you feel amazing but it might make you feel like a lame-o, stupid loser for a short period of time. But remember, “I wish I had chosen to do the wrong thing” SAID NO ONE EVER. You will never regret a right decision, my son—one that is in line with the Truth. It just won’t happen. <br />
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I wish I could take Proverbs 2, make a delicious pizza, hamburger or nachos out of it and make you chew it up and eat it — if that helped me get it INSIDE OF YOU. Maybe an IV would be more effective?! Take this to heart, sweet B. These are words of life. <br />
<br />
My son, if you accept my words and store up my commands within you,<br />
<br />
turning your ear to wisdom and applying your heart to understanding—<br />
<br />
indeed, if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding,<br />
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and if you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure,<br />
<br />
then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God.<br />
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For the Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding.<br />
<br />
He holds success in store for the upright, he is a SHIELD to those whose walk is blameless,<br />
<br />
for he GUARDS the course of the just and PROTECTS the way of his faithful ones.<br />
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Then you will UNDERSTAND what is right and just and fair—every GOOD path.<br />
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For WISDOM will enter your HEART, and knowledge will be PLEASANT to your SOUL.<br />
<br />
Discretion will PROTECT you, and understanding will GUARD you.<br />
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{CAPS mine-- all words that a momma loves.}<br />
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That Proverb goes on to talk about the “wayward woman with her seductive words” and how her path leads “down to death” and causes them to forfeit the “path of life”. Don’t forfeit the “path of life” by giving into your curiosity for a few moments of pleasure. Death comes in many ways and you want every part of you to be ALIVE as you go out into this world to DO and BE all the God calls you to. Guard yourself, B. Be fierce about it. {You will hear this again— and again. And you will be okay with it because you love me.} <br />
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I see glimpses of the man God is making you to be, Brighton. If I can wade through the dirty clothes, your papers everywhere and the things you just can’t seem to keep up with, I see a young man capable of leading, serving, loving, and making a significant difference in the world around him. <br />
<br />
You have what it takes, B.<br />
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I am so very proud to be your mom. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_X1w9-fr7M0t-KXoDs349i4OWf6MdeHehsBmXYMzSjAYyzVrTAf0ZHgGn8i8sNxmMEEkDSRW8SwdsjCkNvdPGXukji-TIgv_scJLIu0gs0whJHQwmTy8t-7dEQzMFU9KG6TQRUYnl75o/s1600/IMG_8579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_X1w9-fr7M0t-KXoDs349i4OWf6MdeHehsBmXYMzSjAYyzVrTAf0ZHgGn8i8sNxmMEEkDSRW8SwdsjCkNvdPGXukji-TIgv_scJLIu0gs0whJHQwmTy8t-7dEQzMFU9KG6TQRUYnl75o/s640/IMG_8579.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A picture of the 6th grade school picture </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG7rbWZlY2RdxSLCDzkL0HfVrnscluQQ08EmZk1SEwKajFEUeDYvCs7-JI4FIHfIUgrBy21s19fH22N2zHnNKU8FdlNq-RuskzfentRkEZMbz5C5AmFevQaSYDD-XGqkp6fUmgMuHCV2Q/s1600/IMG_7239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG7rbWZlY2RdxSLCDzkL0HfVrnscluQQ08EmZk1SEwKajFEUeDYvCs7-JI4FIHfIUgrBy21s19fH22N2zHnNKU8FdlNq-RuskzfentRkEZMbz5C5AmFevQaSYDD-XGqkp6fUmgMuHCV2Q/s640/IMG_7239.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basketball was REALLY fun last year-- you guys won lots of games.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhejEHEg4PP0f-lLh-2aLS385NlieWZRhflHrb0UCmmFOljloQGnyrl8UBF4HM9DWuGGbuqUfH0vw2wQEIrbq9dh3DLFmfX0dSM2JS2BHnqkMegnRgl1nBjNeuOFi4OUD_bDZeDVuMDRfI/s1600/IMG_7247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhejEHEg4PP0f-lLh-2aLS385NlieWZRhflHrb0UCmmFOljloQGnyrl8UBF4HM9DWuGGbuqUfH0vw2wQEIrbq9dh3DLFmfX0dSM2JS2BHnqkMegnRgl1nBjNeuOFi4OUD_bDZeDVuMDRfI/s640/IMG_7247.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And came in SECOND! {Thus the TWO fingers} You guys wore your MEDALS to school. Yes. You. Did.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLDi7b6xga77bTxZQ9YMHekYc3eSM850nrmz9Hxthcqi43E7DKYyiVniQvT4gZdYRT1wwkC8kSJ92PJTEmHD2MzvqyaG1mCMGluo7ocNXTf1KZSs5ggsf-SgSOFacy6uZH08acjRmnzkw/s1600/IMG_0978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLDi7b6xga77bTxZQ9YMHekYc3eSM850nrmz9Hxthcqi43E7DKYyiVniQvT4gZdYRT1wwkC8kSJ92PJTEmHD2MzvqyaG1mCMGluo7ocNXTf1KZSs5ggsf-SgSOFacy6uZH08acjRmnzkw/s640/IMG_0978.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This might be the only night of the year that the two of you get along.... Christmas Eve</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4SxHO7LjDKiUekNXPl4GF5R2axBTUuGeEOCsbNOgEW-OFC0Cg4eHQzqs_F03pEAynmnJxc887tHa8B0mMIdb08Xs6DJpPdihyphenhyphen58Nrdd2b3iQdAfVcC80UzvbrMtz7BmXSX8s59dSHgo/s1600/IMG_0987.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4SxHO7LjDKiUekNXPl4GF5R2axBTUuGeEOCsbNOgEW-OFC0Cg4eHQzqs_F03pEAynmnJxc887tHa8B0mMIdb08Xs6DJpPdihyphenhyphen58Nrdd2b3iQdAfVcC80UzvbrMtz7BmXSX8s59dSHgo/s640/IMG_0987.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the first of many pictures that I want you to remember that YOU ARE LOVED by MANY. You have a strong support of family AND friends around you who want the very best for you.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgtHlh2wGu8QVr6ofEcn5KBGnhPHEkF6bZiT3_Sl99fPzE_N9tPRAoRgCY2_tSgNzaVL5k5Qfov6IBxPaBBSCSOqHJJ1rX52NQloQTI89EH3TzJncggq-ChFqP8t7C_AFYt9yJHyidqfE/s1600/IMG_0528.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgtHlh2wGu8QVr6ofEcn5KBGnhPHEkF6bZiT3_Sl99fPzE_N9tPRAoRgCY2_tSgNzaVL5k5Qfov6IBxPaBBSCSOqHJJ1rX52NQloQTI89EH3TzJncggq-ChFqP8t7C_AFYt9yJHyidqfE/s640/IMG_0528.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Badlands-- NPT 2016</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3xylRwBPZDJrp_FYqugtw3XOBdj-mVNLbM8QdzF_GDskJf0eeuJuWiGsr59U6o6UBCyLCf2SzNeIOtk5TNHeZkOIZAAv1_Ip_7ayTD46PmdW7Rjm-LTbguphG_NdMxzKyNPeXziE_aSY/s1600/IMG_0942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3xylRwBPZDJrp_FYqugtw3XOBdj-mVNLbM8QdzF_GDskJf0eeuJuWiGsr59U6o6UBCyLCf2SzNeIOtk5TNHeZkOIZAAv1_Ip_7ayTD46PmdW7Rjm-LTbguphG_NdMxzKyNPeXziE_aSY/s640/IMG_0942.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stinker--</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgpuHhbQ5JjfSnLXjDVH7MzOpuV6ZRtCjArs7vkFyBOjlO4QTsp1lCQTg7KitVk8jUP9fUd2bibekhYVgxwKvL_2ByLJ5jN9zqCuC5wIXP3QSbZg3M8YRvvZO0pPaqCbDxpDRGqt_9GpE/s1600/IMG_1703+baseball+stuff.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgpuHhbQ5JjfSnLXjDVH7MzOpuV6ZRtCjArs7vkFyBOjlO4QTsp1lCQTg7KitVk8jUP9fUd2bibekhYVgxwKvL_2ByLJ5jN9zqCuC5wIXP3QSbZg3M8YRvvZO0pPaqCbDxpDRGqt_9GpE/s640/IMG_1703+baseball+stuff.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You are so proud of your cousin RJ and Hunter’s boyfriend, Jason. Some of this is random but most of it’s theirs that you laid out.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-pdWmq6Lp8qHK_5IuCpypLE0C85CULghyRb4bVIghWKgPQxp32PWMHVZnupp75TMJJ17SzHPTnBhZ54-ttxbJKxBAUy2BB1ljpsbzTGo8Z-O9Ih_Cwf7tsrhiBWOtABxaHLYLDUHXjnE/s1600/IMG_1017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-pdWmq6Lp8qHK_5IuCpypLE0C85CULghyRb4bVIghWKgPQxp32PWMHVZnupp75TMJJ17SzHPTnBhZ54-ttxbJKxBAUy2BB1ljpsbzTGo8Z-O9Ih_Cwf7tsrhiBWOtABxaHLYLDUHXjnE/s640/IMG_1017.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cousins. You are the baby and you are loved.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfzMfUv2tl4JjKFFETXYD1SS5RjvD7GH7gtpXBWXaIUkN9EIdEdhmOFUogkNrEzPcBqcyhmAq-1Kjbr7bFTcrdWGSxwiOxgvzAuXAnT1DHFNLhvMsopDhDZ2fUo1ZwS2i_qf0SOQ6cppI/s1600/IMG_1004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfzMfUv2tl4JjKFFETXYD1SS5RjvD7GH7gtpXBWXaIUkN9EIdEdhmOFUogkNrEzPcBqcyhmAq-1Kjbr7bFTcrdWGSxwiOxgvzAuXAnT1DHFNLhvMsopDhDZ2fUo1ZwS2i_qf0SOQ6cppI/s640/IMG_1004.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy loves you too-- and he doesn’t HAVE to! </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViy8JIogv1N2XzlzsKLiTXlFHPlAoGnVyIssP0UfLeblsr4nLK728QD1cMPDjfBpVEv0KyAS6UaibJ7r-k5IY5HGSn0g06l8AtKF42LhggdeqMyoows0iNu7nvmjAaaCAmSIuhyphenhyphen88_co/s1600/IMG_2019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="580" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViy8JIogv1N2XzlzsKLiTXlFHPlAoGnVyIssP0UfLeblsr4nLK728QD1cMPDjfBpVEv0KyAS6UaibJ7r-k5IY5HGSn0g06l8AtKF42LhggdeqMyoows0iNu7nvmjAaaCAmSIuhyphenhyphen88_co/s640/IMG_2019.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saturday morning AFTER the late night sleepover... Good friends.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIHi5napaZLfAw9bo_wQHu0D_krS0f22mdwUwTzCwNrBruYb_mgAqApbQ9Gw-YKiZLLuUFYOvVXDJKtP1aT56Wm2e8gGH0h4N4_kM4krjZeer8P5xDoOqE-M7CpB_9ONxPEklPoQjf-oE/s1600/IMG_1963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIHi5napaZLfAw9bo_wQHu0D_krS0f22mdwUwTzCwNrBruYb_mgAqApbQ9Gw-YKiZLLuUFYOvVXDJKtP1aT56Wm2e8gGH0h4N4_kM4krjZeer8P5xDoOqE-M7CpB_9ONxPEklPoQjf-oE/s640/IMG_1963.JPG" width="588" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Young Life Camp-- Wyldlife-- 2016</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9nvTwa07mrH75ngMToCQwMO_7_5F1SgEJNIIbBLjedT52F3xYKsI7247pQUXrIskLGTnE6CULvEz0yCMT4cHNlqRxEXVYhWnxNfqQRe33qkjQwqqDDFzGGXOnDhOQH88wV_WM-pOgDlE/s1600/IMG_1908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9nvTwa07mrH75ngMToCQwMO_7_5F1SgEJNIIbBLjedT52F3xYKsI7247pQUXrIskLGTnE6CULvEz0yCMT4cHNlqRxEXVYhWnxNfqQRe33qkjQwqqDDFzGGXOnDhOQH88wV_WM-pOgDlE/s640/IMG_1908.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one HAS to love you but I think she would anyway. ; ) {Rough Riders!}</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifu18Cc7vkwIviZJsTj6blIAGyfHO_OwXd_JHduPZGKoCpSYjFkOuk6YlUpjOkEEqV9K6yKHJrByr3DEkrt08yX1LNQqXcd8ld-6sWfFn1NJNHPkGh4oljMii1xLiDjSjT-NXY49DaQ_Q/s1600/IMG_1899.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifu18Cc7vkwIviZJsTj6blIAGyfHO_OwXd_JHduPZGKoCpSYjFkOuk6YlUpjOkEEqV9K6yKHJrByr3DEkrt08yX1LNQqXcd8ld-6sWfFn1NJNHPkGh4oljMii1xLiDjSjT-NXY49DaQ_Q/s640/IMG_1899.jpg" width="464" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You’ve spent a lot of time checking your muscles this year.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIGxhjP1ZTJ_fp6uG6VQzmtyoc798ysSKXinvcXlqzr60TQMAAX_nCZULBc6Dm4qGxkxjahM_oLZKKiLCjk2-iv9wWEQ8s2THyGgz1WVqKh-7WMfbexy8sXjXkt5lBxXPvo_sVU2G9drg/s1600/IMG_1740.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIGxhjP1ZTJ_fp6uG6VQzmtyoc798ysSKXinvcXlqzr60TQMAAX_nCZULBc6Dm4qGxkxjahM_oLZKKiLCjk2-iv9wWEQ8s2THyGgz1WVqKh-7WMfbexy8sXjXkt5lBxXPvo_sVU2G9drg/s640/IMG_1740.jpg" width="470" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes-- this means love.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrsA4REBNbCgbfiBx-mJwn4didZKy8TJcm_Q03hMxRtyBWtJz5QsYgl55AsVLNXyq-d0eFMQC5fExGpIUKfQaRd8VftqImFISa_Dna3ZqDHWR7tW0A9H6BvIXoIIJQKEV8I1KLlqcQIus/s1600/IMG_1719+fish.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="622" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrsA4REBNbCgbfiBx-mJwn4didZKy8TJcm_Q03hMxRtyBWtJz5QsYgl55AsVLNXyq-d0eFMQC5fExGpIUKfQaRd8VftqImFISa_Dna3ZqDHWR7tW0A9H6BvIXoIIJQKEV8I1KLlqcQIus/s640/IMG_1719+fish.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New experience with Daddy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwusslADmvlmOOxO1a96KhmrIu76Rs9Xdoy-xYXVvFc4z2hzGvS7xAiIXIMEy0QUBl6X_RGdIXi3pP1o9E6-8XuLAXqfGZK6jCXWXRZa7KQCumLJS4xNpT67oqJnl2IX1qxvoG3a49G4/s1600/IMG_2530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwusslADmvlmOOxO1a96KhmrIu76Rs9Xdoy-xYXVvFc4z2hzGvS7xAiIXIMEy0QUBl6X_RGdIXi3pP1o9E6-8XuLAXqfGZK6jCXWXRZa7KQCumLJS4xNpT67oqJnl2IX1qxvoG3a49G4/s640/IMG_2530.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It’s “the smile” we get for pictures these days...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEs7Q5jpFC9VkxCahz6ypamVmxWNWul8pDAEVgFf6eCcY2Uxsfm7f6ja51T-zZSeyCGPCZ1rmPb5vHOCEB1-mhmm6rjn5W9Gx1G6ACI89y4hefJ1nS0jGbs_4k0Cn4yLDRaz5TJl9JTF4/s1600/IMG_2513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEs7Q5jpFC9VkxCahz6ypamVmxWNWul8pDAEVgFf6eCcY2Uxsfm7f6ja51T-zZSeyCGPCZ1rmPb5vHOCEB1-mhmm6rjn5W9Gx1G6ACI89y4hefJ1nS0jGbs_4k0Cn4yLDRaz5TJl9JTF4/s640/IMG_2513.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More love.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9aPi6pbzMrsvnVKIrDN-p7tLdAZ5M1BL6EpwFl4MjCfq8A_SjCahRe3d0EgZhRi-VzozfcKLunHf99g2lDYLBzgzc0H_esmf9DZc_XKCyABjkBCXVEDzC_yKnCUAqLF8IqSBgtQcl6d0/s1600/IMG_2130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9aPi6pbzMrsvnVKIrDN-p7tLdAZ5M1BL6EpwFl4MjCfq8A_SjCahRe3d0EgZhRi-VzozfcKLunHf99g2lDYLBzgzc0H_esmf9DZc_XKCyABjkBCXVEDzC_yKnCUAqLF8IqSBgtQcl6d0/s640/IMG_2130.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUY0WHQhE0qXeH_cWUnloTrZcyeQ2XaVmnaPgENuWvJSGViu5kMPHOn39Yvgk8YVon7Pxfy0aWhIZl_rQHn3DVVs1VlO-NLM5ruTplsavZtB9H4dUMYu8QRcwc-mR90QNVmM0kntta1Cc/s1600/IMG_2120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUY0WHQhE0qXeH_cWUnloTrZcyeQ2XaVmnaPgENuWvJSGViu5kMPHOn39Yvgk8YVon7Pxfy0aWhIZl_rQHn3DVVs1VlO-NLM5ruTplsavZtB9H4dUMYu8QRcwc-mR90QNVmM0kntta1Cc/s640/IMG_2120.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teaching beach family -- You can’t see me!!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqEt1PeCCMCM7WjM0XAk9asj37UM3pNxxAjXh89-ug1bTblBxTRr7BiSOosVEIUIfPs9WRhmXWrrJEzfxFHCglPLGvAulhbbTT84QyiHe8G0ihE7tz5UdgRLwdqIBybScJ6JHZBgw3rA/s1600/IMG_2073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqEt1PeCCMCM7WjM0XAk9asj37UM3pNxxAjXh89-ug1bTblBxTRr7BiSOosVEIUIfPs9WRhmXWrrJEzfxFHCglPLGvAulhbbTT84QyiHe8G0ihE7tz5UdgRLwdqIBybScJ6JHZBgw3rA/s640/IMG_2073.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Your first “Dallas Experience”-- girl drama and lots of hard work</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTmeECLhEM6to-AJs8SS28AaNCkdfMj9PwJHER-MAmgrKE596AzZExJnO75F-7KYgFI50TYlr_MQhszK8YWn5rvgnNcobS78Xn7VD9aQcSWBb70wGyIoqQOgHHaFXHWL0kX6GBH-pqfPM/s1600/IMG_2044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTmeECLhEM6to-AJs8SS28AaNCkdfMj9PwJHER-MAmgrKE596AzZExJnO75F-7KYgFI50TYlr_MQhszK8YWn5rvgnNcobS78Xn7VD9aQcSWBb70wGyIoqQOgHHaFXHWL0kX6GBH-pqfPM/s640/IMG_2044.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rough Rider game with friends</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnZrVmKiiQR-Ro6aX5wMiHItqYeScbvYiL_dvAMaVtHPkVb30vb9Y0G6wFVhkCMAvNjKuhxo0l_VWIX9snRxpKuSyPtIjUW3gruPrfFmhHrvlZAo6ePR45mClWf99mbPb_HyaDN-7BKGA/s1600/IMG_3141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnZrVmKiiQR-Ro6aX5wMiHItqYeScbvYiL_dvAMaVtHPkVb30vb9Y0G6wFVhkCMAvNjKuhxo0l_VWIX9snRxpKuSyPtIjUW3gruPrfFmhHrvlZAo6ePR45mClWf99mbPb_HyaDN-7BKGA/s640/IMG_3141.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fort Worth family-- known all your life</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQOHEWIMx5C-2B5YgfXO63JC3cgFrerNnC8hlwvLY_QvScfV8EyUPe3WpBULSJyNkQLYDvq1Sxcd0t66ei2mOrOex0e6oa54Po9N29LCv3kGvYg2dnYKRA1XyYmaUkGElZ_tiF9NcB7Xw/s1600/IMG_3084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQOHEWIMx5C-2B5YgfXO63JC3cgFrerNnC8hlwvLY_QvScfV8EyUPe3WpBULSJyNkQLYDvq1Sxcd0t66ei2mOrOex0e6oa54Po9N29LCv3kGvYg2dnYKRA1XyYmaUkGElZ_tiF9NcB7Xw/s640/IMG_3084.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First football camp-- with Luke-- known him since babyhood too.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnYT0MZ18wEPoR8e7JBYxabI45U-1vkcAVZj1H6HL6GcRXBfpeZufB8zJQUIBhnp-NhQgWoaryFrODf43mXhN_3-oYFBx9Eplb88uFlQHU8j7baiowef5Gk344Wnl1Fy3n-vTrV-p7OCI/s1600/XXYF4046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnYT0MZ18wEPoR8e7JBYxabI45U-1vkcAVZj1H6HL6GcRXBfpeZufB8zJQUIBhnp-NhQgWoaryFrODf43mXhN_3-oYFBx9Eplb88uFlQHU8j7baiowef5Gk344Wnl1Fy3n-vTrV-p7OCI/s640/XXYF4046.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These moments make a momma happy. She can’t help but yank out her camera. No matter how she talks to you, B, she LOVES YOU.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMI6O-bg_G-qgKyrI7aIfvGs5eoNjlOnVhnuJfgcziSTEB6Tbiy-ssvcOtYKbExc9wYroTetZV0l_YUr7FRIxFfLK5XNku0X2H0FlzpKtK7cWPVYP_jq3VSQc3ZFWtmGBNQu6rCb3e3LQ/s1600/IMG_3347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMI6O-bg_G-qgKyrI7aIfvGs5eoNjlOnVhnuJfgcziSTEB6Tbiy-ssvcOtYKbExc9wYroTetZV0l_YUr7FRIxFfLK5XNku0X2H0FlzpKtK7cWPVYP_jq3VSQc3ZFWtmGBNQu6rCb3e3LQ/s640/IMG_3347.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You did a big new thing this year-- you started public school!! And YOU LOVE IT! And the coolest thing-- look who the first people you saw that first morning were-- life long friends.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHKKilRLwhQVFAh80NIYdMS2fYtZLvbKsNNsqO6eiDqmlqvtP-vUwUIbdA4Qp8xE-gmgvxPv0z4NYZRr6hdZlMWKrzrmk4LQY-WlA3c_TCUlc1ns-jc4o4rPuIOzV_RAgDvcBy4Ol37U/s1600/IMG_3356.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHKKilRLwhQVFAh80NIYdMS2fYtZLvbKsNNsqO6eiDqmlqvtP-vUwUIbdA4Qp8xE-gmgvxPv0z4NYZRr6hdZlMWKrzrmk4LQY-WlA3c_TCUlc1ns-jc4o4rPuIOzV_RAgDvcBy4Ol37U/s640/IMG_3356.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYASbkRuKljAJzWVirszB2RKFE9YVZVtrHxOX1kWGsSFCnNq1jyBfGo9x2EVnW7THa6NHSo_iSD1nJEgbURKZzVjE1P4DuXwSsv6Kppawt0Jf2gQi_H1QecqUr7kmKDOQOAR8qJTjXeqY/s1600/IMG_3315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYASbkRuKljAJzWVirszB2RKFE9YVZVtrHxOX1kWGsSFCnNq1jyBfGo9x2EVnW7THa6NHSo_iSD1nJEgbURKZzVjE1P4DuXwSsv6Kppawt0Jf2gQi_H1QecqUr7kmKDOQOAR8qJTjXeqY/s640/IMG_3315.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More friends you’ve known all your life-- after school Costco run</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrE3Cp89Le-sPUM8sd64gdFSp1lBjHsi1M072zi5lwQeBDhjpRCvuNg8wE53yfsDn-MK4HCISGIsYksKJ8ALykzBLUmkC_-Ygj3hi-13fsP1TlpwbFNOJdBEnPQv4sGNz7v49HaibUHc/s1600/IMG_4282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrE3Cp89Le-sPUM8sd64gdFSp1lBjHsi1M072zi5lwQeBDhjpRCvuNg8wE53yfsDn-MK4HCISGIsYksKJ8ALykzBLUmkC_-Ygj3hi-13fsP1TlpwbFNOJdBEnPQv4sGNz7v49HaibUHc/s640/IMG_4282.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVGcXWT9qk3t7iothXjo-fEnmz8RCeDB9m8R6dzzyzHpbFr-bKgJrCrS-Tk45Csf1lgNrD17bZ-gMx0-klnM14tM_ExkUtvwxvLMf_jIEIke4wLmDy3OxN1Q9gkPf_eybs3hkuh5rNHbw/s1600/IMG_4274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVGcXWT9qk3t7iothXjo-fEnmz8RCeDB9m8R6dzzyzHpbFr-bKgJrCrS-Tk45Csf1lgNrD17bZ-gMx0-klnM14tM_ExkUtvwxvLMf_jIEIke4wLmDy3OxN1Q9gkPf_eybs3hkuh5rNHbw/s640/IMG_4274.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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It’s been a great year with lots of memories-- but I want you to remember these people. It’s the relationships that will mean the most to you through the years. Be grateful.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzrpwHXJLNGbPAPbVpeMKlBJtyozkitYN0EVvUI7pOxYhkoZyrZq1FpNnddXLlB6Kuhi77YPuWsPyOMEwWDLKP2PacyANLe2RkRa1rLgNnbG_FCMKR_wHD_FKESFzM-ifCfgsB_Bz7-k8/s1600/IMG_0709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzrpwHXJLNGbPAPbVpeMKlBJtyozkitYN0EVvUI7pOxYhkoZyrZq1FpNnddXLlB6Kuhi77YPuWsPyOMEwWDLKP2PacyANLe2RkRa1rLgNnbG_FCMKR_wHD_FKESFzM-ifCfgsB_Bz7-k8/s320/IMG_0709.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LAST YEAR- 2015</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj33KNQNboOpXHVRJp21tx3DXN09ozHzVIf0ylSzchh-KI7Kcp2an_kQyryc4Z_n2NyQIKAICLcMVUHD1qTsBLeclznwXQFesJDJp6YvxAMFWRfDZoRNTVHhYPjnlfoD-j9u2g2OYrC1Lg/s1600/IMG_4338.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj33KNQNboOpXHVRJp21tx3DXN09ozHzVIf0ylSzchh-KI7Kcp2an_kQyryc4Z_n2NyQIKAICLcMVUHD1qTsBLeclznwXQFesJDJp6YvxAMFWRfDZoRNTVHhYPjnlfoD-j9u2g2OYrC1Lg/s320/IMG_4338.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THIS YEAR- 2016</td></tr>
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Goodbye 12. Hello 13.<br />
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P.S. Things to note: shaving adventures, 6:30 am football practices, saluting after a deflected pass {no sir}, dabbing, lost baby belly, brand names {ugh}, loves cafeteria food, bow ties, your response after Julia left the house for homecoming with Nate's family {"Nothing like that has ever happened to me before.}, camp out DRAMA-- will add more as I think of them.Krista Sandershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13213297629628526140noreply@blogger.com0