tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224220712024-03-14T05:31:13.823-04:00Mini-Van Mega-Fun!Hop in and Enjoy the Ride!Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.comBlogger461125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-83631176002665063962021-09-18T13:54:00.009-04:002022-10-07T14:45:02.359-04:00Mini-Van Mom Meets Mid-Life.<div style="text-align: left;">If you stumble upon this post, join me at <a href="https://michelledieleman.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Called To Care</a> for posts on the path I'm on.<br />Trusting God's providence in this next season!</div><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-20187128543378429052015-12-05T09:15:00.000-05:002015-12-05T11:01:43.204-05:00no shirt, no shoes, no problem!?Have you ever noticed the warning:<br>
"NO SHIRT, NO SHOES, NO SERVICE posted on a storefront?<br>
I remember reading that as a kid and wondering why a sign like that was even necessary? Why would anyone NOT wear a shirt or shoes to the store? Who would intentionally look so shabby and disheveled in a public place?<br>
<br>
I have shared in a <a href="http://www.mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/07/halfway-home-and-finding-fruit.html" target="_blank">previous post</a> that there is "<i>a certain liberation in knowing there is nothing new under the sun in my closet." </i>Getting dressed had become as routine as brushing my teeth and I had come to a point where I didn't lament my commitment to <a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/to-be-clothed-in-contentment.html" target="_blank">this challenge</a>.<br>
<br>
<i>"Enter closet, choose something, get on with the day" </i>had become my pattern. <i> </i><br>
No feelings, no moods, no creativity. Only the weather would guide my process. <br>
<br>
When I began this gig back in January, I was oddly excited to get closet creative. I knew if I switched up this scarf with those jeans and that sweater with these boots, and my fave floral dress with a T-shirt atop - I'd get through the monotony of the same old duds. <br>
<br>
And that worked. For about 5 months. What happened after that became a bunch of apathy -- dressed down in stretchy pants and flip flops.<br>
<br>
I didn't want to think that how I dressed mattered. Because it in the grand scheme of things - it doesn't. But when I was sick and tired of my clothes, (many of which were from a thrift shop in the first place) somewhere along the line I decided to throw in the towel and slap on the totally oversized sweatshirt I borrowed from my Dad's closet. And wear it for days.<br>
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<b>Someone. Call the fashion police. </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Lock her up and throw away the key.</b></div>
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It got worse. After we moved to the country county in which we reside, I was making numerous trips to the local Dollar General for this, that and the other thing. One day, I had been too lazy get out of my PJs. When that evening trip to the store came, I figured what's the point of getting dressed just to go buy coffee creamer and ziplock bags? Who do I need to impress anyway?<br>
<br>
I think the moment I realized I had <i><b>"let myself go"</b></i> was at the checkout counter. There I stood. Leopard pajama pants and a mismatched 2012 5k T-shirt & nearly burned out flip-flops. I glanced back and the fella behind me in line was also sporting pajama pants and what can only be described as slipper boots. He was holding a can of beef stew. We smiled at each other and shared our mutual affinity for Dollar General, noting especially the "come as you are" atmosphere.<br>
<br>
Such an extreme shift took place. Where I once gave effort to staying fit, clean and stylish, I now more often than not, didn't care. I stopped running and since I "hated" all of my clothes, I often seemed to pick whatever was the highest in comfort but subsequently sloppy and unattractive. Sure, when I had to clean up (church, work, family photos) I managed to look presentable, but the struggle was real, folks.<br>
<br>
What is this interesting co-mingle of garments, behavior and mood? Do a few new items of clothing at the beginning of a season, or for a special event motivate me to take care of and feel good about myself? <br>
<br>
Should that even be??<br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Consider the new mom who discovers she can fit back into her pre-pregnancy jeans</i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>or </i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>the kid who finally finds a pair of jeans to properly fit his long legs and skinny waist.</i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>or</i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>the man who wears greasy uniforms all week and dresses in a suit for Sunday church</i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>or </i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>just the opposite... the fella who dons a suit and tie all week and can't wait to leave those at the door for holey jeans and a MSU T-shirt. </i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>or </i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>the gal who reaches her weight loss goals and buys a new wardrobe.</i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>or</i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>the toddler who is so sweetly excited about his light up sneakers.</i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>or</i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>the husband who searches online for top of the line hunting gear.</i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>or</i></span><br>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br></i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>the teenage girl who saved up to buy the prom dress in that perfect shade of gold</i></span><br>
<br>
I could go on, but the point is- in different ways, we<b> all</b> have a few feels about our clothes. And that's OK when kept in healthy balance. Before this year, I may have bought clothes to make me feel better about my looks/myself/my bad day. At times this year, I've allowed the shopping deprivation to dictate so many things, among them, my mood and self care. Neither one a healthy balance. <br>
<br>
Moving forward, it's good to know these patterns and how to keep them in check. I look forward to buying that first new dress and feeling fresh and lovely again. I'll get dressed up for a night out with my husband and he'll be thankful too, that I burned those yoga pants and washed my hair. <br>
<br>
More posts from this series:<br>
<a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/11/contentment-interrupted.html" target="_blank">Contentment, Interrupted</a><br>
<a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/07/halfway-home-and-finding-fruit.html" target="_blank">Halfway Home and Finding Fruit</a><br>
<a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/05/cold-turkey-and-everyones-hungry.html" target="_blank">Cold Turkey and Everyone's Hungry</a><br>
<a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/05/caramel-colored-loopholes.html" target="_blank">Caramel Colored Loopholes</a><br>
<a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/04/lessons-from-first-grade.html" target="_blank">Life Lessons from First Grade</a><br>
<a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/blue-light-special.html" target="_blank">Blue Light Special</a><br>
<a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/to-be-clothed-in-contentment.html" target="_blank">To Be Clothed In Contentment</a>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-22447419299464165492015-11-15T20:17:00.000-05:002015-11-15T21:40:18.121-05:00Contentment, interrupted.When last I blogged here the summer season was at its mountaintop and so was I in regard to my year long challenge in clothing contentment. The halfway point in this experiment had come and I was hitting my <a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/07/halfway-home-and-finding-fruit.html" target="_blank">no-new-clothes</a> stride. <br />
<br />
Ok, well- yes. I struggled with wanting all.the.dresses! Pop up clothing parties, and thrift stores called out to me week after week.<br />
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But a special mix of stubborn will, encouragement/accountability from family/friends and ultimately the Holy Spirit's gentle care I've kept from buying anything new. Toss in some lessons in identity learned and a gifted to me pair of black leggings and I was sitting pretty pleased. (with myself) <br />
<br />
What's the saying based on Proverbs 16:18? Pride goeth before the fall?<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><i>"So...you aren't buying clothes this year... but you bought a house?!?"</i></span></b>commented my co-worker late this summer. I remember feeling somewhat defensive to his comment. Was he actually suggesting that I bought a whole giant house to fill the gaping shopping hole I created for myself?<br />
The nerve! Didn't he know I was knocking this thing out of the park?<br />
<br />
Well, as the Lord would have it - we did buy a new (to us) home. Shortly after my last post, we offered on a house, prepared, listed, & sold our home. Closed the deals on both houses....moved out and moved in all within about 6 weeks.<br />
<br />
The chaotic stress just about did me in, but folks. I survived. Now, looking back during that time, an underlying theme was taking shape.<b> </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Suddenly, I had a new house to design, fill, and decorate. <br />
<b>My shopping license had been re-issued! I could buy<i> <span style="font-size: large;">stuff</span></i> once again. </b><br />
<br />
Going to HomeGoods never felt so good!<br />
Who needs new clothes when you can buy a brand new washer and dryer? Or an antique dresser or coordinating storage baskets? and for reals... every new home needs a shiny new coffee pot and fresh throw pillows!<br />
<br />
There was a moment or two along my purchasing way when I took pause and I realized that two whole months went by in a blink! And wouldn't you know... I didn't give two hoots that I had been wearing the same oversized sweatshirt, yoga pants and flip flops for daayys on end. (more on my extremely poor fashion in an upcoming post)<br />
Besides, all of my <span style="font-size: large;"><b>new</b></span> candles took care of any smell I may have emitted.<br />
<br />
<b>What changed? </b> Did I suddenly not care about clothing any more? Had I truly arrived?<br />
<br />
Something larger was revealed to me during the last few months. Perhaps my struggle isn't just with contentment, but with consumerism. I'd dare say those two things walk hand in hand like co-dependent lovers. <br />
<br />
<b>When we have a void in our lives, do we let it sit as is? </b><br />
<b>Uncomfortable and raw.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>OR </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>D</b><b>o we (knowingly or not) find a way to fill what's missing? so the yearning stops and our souls <i><span style="font-size: large;">seem</span></i> to center.</b><br />
<br />
I suppose my co-worker was just making light of my purchasing irony. Obviously, we didn't buy a new house because it was all I was "allowed" to do. But. I am fairly sure that buying new rugs and wall decor filled the shopping void, and detoured me from center.<br />
<br />
Important things to think about as I near full on purchasing power come January. <br />
<br />
<i><span class="text 2Tim-3-14" id="en-NIV-29868" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">14 </span>But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29868Z" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29868Z" title="See cross-reference Z">Z</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text 2Tim-3-15" id="en-NIV-29869" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">15 </span>and how from infancy<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29869AA" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29869AA" title="See cross-reference AA">AA</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> you have known the Holy Scriptures,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29869AB" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29869AB" title="See cross-reference AB">AB</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> which are able to make you wise<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-29869AC" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-29869AC" title="See cross-reference AC">AC</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. --2 Timothy 3:14-15</span></i><br />
<br />Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-84491041507555395352015-07-05T17:54:00.002-04:002015-07-06T12:06:17.605-04:00halfway home and finding fruit. <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember, back in my upper elementary days, a friend of mine who would wear the same outfit to school for two consecutive days before changing to a new one. Then she would wear <i>those</i> clothes for two school days. Even as a 10 year old, this was curious to me. I don't remember if I asked her, or if she just flat out told me something like:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"my mom wants me to do this so we don't have as much laundry"</span></b></i></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
Honestly. That mom was a practical genius! But I wonder too...maybe her mother was also teaching her something I still grapple with 28 years later.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That flashback from 1987 came to mind after I read this really timely article: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><a href="http://www.christianitytoday.com/women/2015/may/why-i-wore-same-thing-all-week.html" target="_blank">"WHY I WORE THE SAME THING ALL WEEK"</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(if you get a chance, check it out, it's a quick read)</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
I have learned a lot as I've been in conversation with people about<a href="http://www.mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/to-be-clothed-in-contentment.html" target="_blank"> this no new clothes challenge I've taken on. </a> Some think it's crazy, some would never entertain the thought, some think, what's the big deal? -- I could do that forever and without even trying! I have learned about personality types, behavior patterns, motivations, personal history, and self-identity. I have learned these things about myself and also others.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
In the article referenced above the author who wore the same 5 articles of clothing all week states:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
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<span style="color: #231f20; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21.88800048828125px;"><i><b>"The most important thing I’ve discovered in this experiment is </b></i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #231f20; line-height: 21.88800048828125px;">that self-evaluation cannot be the goal;</span><span style="color: #231f20; line-height: 21.88800048828125px;"> the fruit of it is."</span></b></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #231f20; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 21.88800048828125px;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I agree. I can self-evaluate all the day long and this blog has been a handy place to wax introspective.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If nothing changes it's just a bunch of thought bubbles and keyboard strokes. </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">If I go through this year desperately counting the days until I can again buy floral dresses with reckless abandon I am not producing the fruit this challenge was meant for. Choosing new actions and shifting my thoughts to collectively result in change is what I hope the last 6 months has planted and the next 6 months will grow. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">So, where's the fruit?</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll be honest, this challenge is really irritating at times! My patient, dear husband most often has to hear the dramatic reasons why. However, if I think in terms of fruit, this whole thing has forced me to feel less about my clothes and understand more that the outfit does not make the woman. I believe this is something I've always known but didn't personally practice. I may have let my exterior speak louder than my interior. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am reminded that I could absolutely care less what anyone I know wears or what fashion trend they do or do not follow. I love the people in my life for so many other things. Their hearts & humor, their passions & quirks, their struggles, their talents, their steadfastness, their honesty, their faith. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All things interior.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is something strangely liberating and simple in knowing there's nothing new under the sun in my closet. What was grueling is now just methodical. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Enter closet. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Choose something. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Get on with the day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, still a work in progress. Good(?) thing I have 6 months left. I would dare guess there's more to learn. For today I reflect on my grade school friend and what I can learn from her experience. I can't suppose she was as bothered by her clothing rule as I would have been. Perhaps she was wise beyond her years and knew that clothing was just an exterior expression and we loved her all the same. Maybe she believed in the practicality. I think she was just an obedient soul. All good things. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's to more fruit!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">A word of thanks. I realize this challenge is a small and sometimes silly thing in the big scheme of complicated life, but I've been encouraged and held accountable along the way by many of you and for that I am grateful. </span></i></div>
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Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-70693485845225532612015-05-22T23:43:00.004-04:002015-05-23T12:22:19.306-04:00Cold Turkey and Everyone's Hungry.On the long road trip to spring break last month I triumphantly declared to my husband that I have pretty much learned all there is to learn through this "<a href="http://www.mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/to-be-clothed-in-contentment.html" target="_blank">no new clothes</a>" challenge. If I remember correctly I did indeed use "air quotes" and eye rolling<i> </i>to emphasize the fact that it was all just a bunch of silliness. Silliness, it appeared I was ready to be done with.<br />
<br />
I had arrived. Lessons were learned, my eyes opened, and seeds of contentment sown. I could wear the same shirt for days because I was so enlightened. <br />
<br />
<b>In a humbling twist of thought, the moment I think I've learned all I can, becomes precisely the </b><b>moment in which I have so much more to learn.</b><br />
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I thought I had it licked. I could declare my purchasing purity and it wasn't really as hard as I thought. Sure, I saw all the new spring hues and trends starting to appear on the arms and legs of my peers, but I would burrow into my closet and find something suitable to me, and I'd survive. The hardest part was picking out something to wear from my old news selections, but once I was dressed --I didn't think twice about it. <br />
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That felt like progress. And it was. <br />
But probably not enough. 4 months wasn't the end all to this challenge as I learned shortly after my victorious rant in the van. <br />
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My success thus far cannot be attributed to my strong will and resolve - But probably more to my complete and intentional avoidance of placing myself in situations where I would be faced with temptation. In other words, I was avoiding stores like the plague.<br />
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My kids would<span style="background-color: white;"> clammer,</span> <i>"Mom! why don't we have like, any food?!"</i><br />
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My husband would woefully discover no soda in the refrigerator.<br />
<br />
My Target card had a zero balance. <br />
A ZERO BALANCE!<br />
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I ordered take out Pizza two times in one week. <br />
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In an effort to avoid what I thought was temptation, but was really just frustration with the fact that I couldn't get what I want, I cut myself off. Cold Turkey.<br />
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That truth hit me when we were in Florida and the ladies were going to take a morning and do a little vacation mall shopping. Vacation shopping is special and my favorite. Since, when on vacation the wallet is a little loose and the impulse buys are more acceptable. My daughter really wanted to go and I felt uneasy. <br />
Do I stay? <br />
Do I go?<br />
I don't know.<br />
The group of gals we vacationed with were extremely gracious and understood why I stayed home. Even my daughter seemed OK when I shared that <i>"I better just stay home so I don't buy any clothes"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
She was picked up and as the minivan that carried her drove away, I felt horrible. Somehow this challenge had taken over in a way that I needed to adjust. I was missing a moment with my daughter and friends so I could keep myself comfortable. <br />
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<a href="http://www.mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/blue-light-special.html" target="_blank">I've written here before</a> that shopping isn't only about the acquisition of stuff, it can also be about spending time together and connecting. I need to find a way to<span style="background-color: white;"> do this. </span><br />
<br />
So tomorrow, I will go with my girl to Target. She's grown like a flower and needs a few new summer duds.<br />
We will drive there together, we will loiter,<br />
I will want to buy her a floral dress and she will say "<i>ugh, no."</i><br />
I will make eye contact with the Women's Clearance rack and respectfully walk away.<br />
We will get a Starbucks Frappucino. She might tell me how she feels about entering middle school next fall. <br />
And I will learn that although this year will be annoying and frustrating at times...<br />
that's precisely the way it's supposed to be. <br />
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Also. It's really time to grocery get. We can't survive on box wine and string cheese!<br />
<br />Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-5102187448411259192015-05-04T22:35:00.002-04:002015-05-05T10:53:32.904-04:00caramel colored loopholes.I had a few moments of weakness early in <a href="http://www.mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/to-be-clothed-in-contentment.html" target="_blank">this challenge.</a><br>
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When 2015 was brand spanking new I was dilly-dallying with the idea of not buying any new clothes for one year. I was "trying it out" just to see if I could get 2 weeks into the new year without a clothing purchase. <br>
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I did it!<br>
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You may be sarcastically thinking, wow! what a feat! <br>
I know. It's laughable. But not easy. <br>
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During that time I was hot after a pair of caramel colored booties. <br>
I had ordered and returned 2 pair prior to Christmas because the first one didn't fit tight enough around my ankles and the other pair smelled like moth balls. <br>
So there I sat, in January with a nice credit on my ModCloth account. (Oh, how I miss you ModCloth.com)<br>
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SO, what's a girl with no caramel colored booties to do?<br>
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<b>Find a loophole.</b> <i>So...technically ... I bought the boots in December.</i><br>
<b>Make the rationalization.</b> <i> I can't just let ModCloth keep my money!</i><br>
<b>Do what I want.</b> <i>I ordered the booties </i><br>
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And it felt right. <br>
Until it didn't. <br>
The boots sat in their pretty box in my closest for a week or so, as I debated if I could/should wear them. Technically speaking, they were new and purchased during the reign of <a href="http://www.mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/to-be-clothed-in-contentment.html" target="_blank">Contentment 365</a>. <br>
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It confounds me how shifty my thoughts can be! If one day I am unsure that the boots are legit, the next day I wear them because they and only they could complete my outfit.<br>
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What I am beginning to see as a bigger picture here is just how easily I loophole my way to get what I want.<br>
Sometimes it's a mindless click of a mouse,<br>
Other times it is a twist of thought.<br>
Most commonly it's a manipulation of truth.<br>
<br>
<i>It's a changing season... I need new shoes.</i><br>
<i>It's Spring Break... I need a new swimsuit.</i><br>
<i>I feel fugly today. I for sure need a new floral dress. </i><br>
<i>It's finally Friday and I made it though the week. Steer me to the nearest sale rack!</i><br>
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I did wear the boots a handful of times the last couple of months, hoping no one would notice the new shoe shine and my sad little failure.<br>
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They didn't. (Or maybe they did and were quietly kind) <br>
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Yet my eyes have been opened if but a bit more. <br>
And I suppose that's what this year might be about.<br>
<br>
To identify the deliciously caramel colored loopholes in my life... and close them.<br>
<br>
More posts in this series:<br>
<a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/04/lessons-from-first-grade.html" target="_blank">Life Lessons From First Grade</a><br>
<a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/blue-light-special.html" target="_blank">Blue Light Special</a><br>
<a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/to-be-clothed-in-contentment.html" target="_blank">To Be Clothed In Contentment</a>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-4884501129215701032015-04-14T22:16:00.004-04:002015-04-17T11:12:12.291-04:00beauty among the brown.Today was an early Michigan Spring that begged us all outside.<br />
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For me, springtime absolutely takes the cake when it comes to the 4 seasons we experience here in the midwest and I take special delight in its arrival signs. The first weed in the garden, my first robin sighting, and oh, the rejoicing when I first lay eyes on a blooming daffodil! <br />
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Last week, as a family we journeyed to spend a week in Florida. I marveled the whole trip down. Each state greener than the last as the temperatures rose and the clouds cleared. Usually, about Virginia I find <i>my daffodils</i>.<br />
I squeal, "there they are!" and my family teases me for the rest of the trip.<br />
It's not quite the same on the trek back home. Not so much marveling as mourning as we cross state lines back to Michigan. It's remarkable, really. The closer we get to the Mitten the cloudier and browner it gets. Last year, and I am not kidding -- the moment we passed the border to our home state, it started raining. <a href="http://www.mdieleman.blogspot.com/p/aprils-story.html" target="_blank">5 years ago when we returned from a Spring Break trip a storm would come to pass in our lives.</a><br />
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Today I was neck deep in post vacation laundry chaos but finally made it out of my robe at noon to go outside to hang a couple of white shirts on the clothesline. I glanced around looking for emerging signs of life and suddenly remembered the special daffs that grew rogue amongst the brush and tangle behind the shed. I couldn't find them at first and felt a bit desperate. So special these daffodils because of the year my daughter Joy discovered them and came running into the house to gift them to me. <br />
<i>"They just have to be here"</i> I thought.<br />
And then I spotted them.<br />
I was filled with gratitude. As long as the earth endures!<br />
Life bursting up through last year's death. <br />
For me, among many things in the last 5 years, daffodils have been a symbol of God's goodness. <br />
His sovereignty. <br />
His grace.<br />
His love.<br />
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5 years ago this night I was quietly admitted to the hospital and we numbly waited on my delivery of our <a href="http://www.mdieleman.blogspot.com/p/aprils-story.html" target="_blank">5th baby who was still, who had passed in my womb.</a> We named her April. I don't think my typed words can rightly express how wonderful and beautifully made she was, how loved she is, and how painful it was. I speak of the pain in somewhat past tense as 5 years has given us much healing and hindsight. It's all I wanted back then, you know... to rush to the future, to restoration, back to the normal. But time does not speed nor slow. In this life we are given sorrow but promised that good will come from it. Friends, so much good has come, I have been taught so much. We are grateful. Let's go out for coffee and I will tell you all about it.<br />
<br />
That day, much like today Spring had sprung all around but I couldn't see it through my swollen eyes and broken heart. Today I see. I trusted through the hurt that each new Spring, when the daffodils blossomed - I'd know God's grace in greater measure. The only way to move forward after you've handed over your lifeless baby to a nurse only to go home empty 5 minutes later, is to continue to lay it all down at the feet of Christ. The months and years went by and He is faithful.<br />
My challenge, my lifeline during these times of trial is to see the gifts God gives, trust His sufficiency, and rest in His love.<br />
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<br />
God can bring New Life to the hopeless heart.<br />
His Grace is certain and His Salvation sure.<br />
He will display beauty among the brown.<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/p/aprils-story.html" target="_blank">April's Story</a></span></div>
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<br />Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-13118433233223716352015-04-03T10:58:00.002-04:002015-04-03T11:05:18.648-04:00Life Lessons From First GradeA couple of Fridays back my tender-hearted second born daughter had a meltdown. A Friday morning-pressure-cooker-getting-ready-for-school-in-a-cramped-bathroom-end-of-the-week-fatigued-meltdown.<br />
<br />
This sweetie was made for school. Loves it. Can't wait to get there. So, when at 7:25am I heard her wail, I knew something wasn't right. I (wrongly) assumed her older sister was pestering her. I shrugged, poured my black coffee into my initialed mug, placed it on the counter and went to investigate the issue.<br />
<br />
When I entered the bathroom I learned the bawling was due to the frustration she felt about a 2-layered shirt she just couldn't figure out how to don correctly. <br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Why all of this drama over a shirt?</span></i><br />
She had picked out her own clothes this day and per usual when she does so, she chooses <b>this</b> shirt. It's her favorite. <i>I wondered, "Does is even matter what a first grader wears to school?" <b>"FOR THE LOVE, just choose from the plethora of tops you have! Any one will do! We can't miss the bus!!!!"</b></i><br />
<br />
During this <b><a href="http://www.mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/to-be-clothed-in-contentment.html" target="_blank">year long challenge</a></b>, I've thought a lot about my particular attachment to clothing. Like any good introspector, I've dialed it back.<br />
Way back.<br />
<br />
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In First Grade I desired Lee Jeans.<br />
Pin Striped Lee Jeans.<br />
With a leather patch.<br />
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I don't remember when, or how or why, but I obtained them. Thanks, Mom!<br />
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I was proud as a peacock the day I wore them to school and helped my teacher rearrange the bulletin board. I needed to stand on a chair to reach the top and <b>thankfully</b> my green shirt was tucked in so everyone could see the leather "Lee" patch.<br />
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Did I just say thankfully? Yeah, this clothing thing runs deep.<br />
<br />
As the years went by it was one thing or another. Reebok shoes, stirrup pants, silk shirts, Guess jeans, Polo shirts, Tight Rolled Levi's Silvertab Jeans, Abercrombie & Fitch oversized anything. In adulthood my brand attraction continued --Gap, Express, J.Crew, Banana Republic, Free People, The North Face. Something changed though. When I was younger I wanted to wear what everyone else was wearing. As I aged, I desired uniqueness. Bring me to a boutique where everything is nearly one of a kind and I am a happy gal. <br />
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Back to my unhappy gal. That Friday morning, I was annoyed and tired but needed to meet her where she was at. I assisted her with the shirt and out the door they skee-daddled just in time for the bus. I was left thinking that I was really not that different than a First Grader. <br />
I may not have difficulty with the literal task of dressing, but what kind of scene do I create when I am getting ready to go to church, or a night out, or even just figuring out what activewear to choose for a run? <br />
<br />
Well, I'll tell you. At times, it's a mess. A pile of cast-offs that make me look pale, or heavy, or old, or (GASP) boring! I may not be crying about it like my little one was, but if I what I wear has to be<b> just right... just the right brand, or style or whatever ---What's that about?</b><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><i><b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Matthew 6:25</span></b></i></span><br />
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<span class="p" style="color: #001320; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; line-height: 20px;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></span></div>
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I'm not here to say that wearing quality clothing that fits well and looks attractive is wrong. Not at all. In fact most of the brand name items I buy outlast the discount store must-haves that shrink and fade and pill. Clothing is a necessity, I get that. What continues to impress upon me is how much of my identity, my branding do I find in my apparel? When I just can't seem to get the <b>right</b> outfit together leaving a tornado of floral dresses in my wake, it's time for a change. <br />
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My frustrated thoughts at my daughter's clothing predicament come back to me, to teach me...<br />
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<i><b>"</b></i><i><b>Does is even matter what a first grader wears to school?" </b> </i><br />
Michelle, it really doesn't matter what you wear to Costco.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>"FOR THE LOVE, just choose from the plethora of tops you have! Any one will do!</b></i><br />
Michelle, just pick a scarf, any scarf.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>We can't miss the bus!!!!"</b></i><br />
Michelle, don't miss out on the life that is truly life.<br />
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Other Posts:<br />
<a href="http://www.mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/to-be-clothed-in-contentment.html" target="_blank">To Be Clothed In Contentment</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/blue-light-special.html" target="_blank">Blue Light Special</a><br />
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Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-31148931184354689052015-02-28T22:34:00.000-05:002015-04-03T10:59:07.197-04:00Blue Light Special<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I come by this rightly, you know...my fondness for shopping. For clothes, for discounts. My late Aunt Pat who I loved and miss dearly was a discount fashionista and an awesome bargain hunter. One of her faves was the K-Mart Blue Light Special. When my mom, us kids, Aunt Patty, & her girls went to the K-Mart it was bound to be special, Blue Light Special. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The announcement would carry across the fluorescent glow of the store and depending on where we were located it was either loud and clear, or distant and faint. Didn't matter though, all we needed to do was look up and find a path to the flashing blue light and undoubtedly we'd go home with something great at a significantly marked down price tag. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My last post was the official jumping off point (albeit 2 months in) to the </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2015/02/to-be-clothed-in-contentment.html" target="_blank">No New Duds. 365 Lessons in Contentment</a> </i>challenge. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Around January 1, I knew I would be committing to this. But, before the famine I had to (thought I had to) sneak in one last feast. I suggested to my kids that we should go to Target and they could use their Christmas gift cards to find some post holiday bargains. While they were there scouring the toys and electronics, I was drawn as if by magnetic force to the colorful, brightly orange stickered women's clothing clearance! I picked through the racks with anticipation. I was confident I would leave there with some trendy delight for a cool 30-50 percent off. My own Orange Sticker Special!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I found a dress and two cardigan sweaters that day. Sweetening the deal was an extra 5 percent off if I used my Target RedCard. I did. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My eldest son was with me that trip and I told him, before he had the chance to ask...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"I am starting the no new clothes thing on Monday, January 5 when you go back to school. That's when Christmas break is done, that's when real life resumes". </i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Could he smell the rationalization? He did. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As you can see, I was a bit squirrelly at first, I hope to get stronger.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of the biggest reasons I have ended up with excess clothing is because<b> me, myself and I</b> (not my mom or my beloved Aunt) have bought</span> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">into the idea that if it's a "good deal" or a "sale price" I then have full license to purchase it. Even if I don't truly need it, even if I have something similar but in a slightly different hue, even if I don't have the cash on hand</span>. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It feels better and more successful going home with something, than without. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's a mindset I'll need to crack open as this challenge takes shape. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I look back on those days at K-Mart in the1980s as warm memories. Not because of the stuff we purchased, because I cannot remember a single item, but because of the time spent together. Shopping can be about that too. But, that's a post for a different day.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Good night! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<br />Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-56837980715535603102015-02-25T14:15:00.001-05:002015-04-03T10:59:34.584-04:00To Be Clothed in Contentment. <div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj11p8I8Kv19LbtjjqFDdEwz-9ds160LW6-YAQ_wBicMD9Mz6JqdwQbTIfOGlPBL8CaI6mNNVHI5Ctl1JaD2KEq5Oh33kkVwWGSmX2biamlxwaKvEq3D2P1D1yD5FR3xjjW4wDX/s1600/chellecloset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj11p8I8Kv19LbtjjqFDdEwz-9ds160LW6-YAQ_wBicMD9Mz6JqdwQbTIfOGlPBL8CaI6mNNVHI5Ctl1JaD2KEq5Oh33kkVwWGSmX2biamlxwaKvEq3D2P1D1yD5FR3xjjW4wDX/s1600/chellecloset.jpg" height="243" width="320" /></a></div>
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Three years ago I read a book penned by author/speaker Jen Hatmaker titled: </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://jenhatmaker.com/blog/2011/12/26/an-experimental-mutiny-against-excess" target="_blank"><i><b>7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess</b></i>.</a></span><br />
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For many a reason of which I won't go into today (check the link, or just read the book), Jen embarked on a 7 month journey. In the spirit of a fast she committed to each of the experiments listed below.
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; font-family: Questrial, Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 27.200000762939453px;"><b><i>Only seven foods for a month. </i></b></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; font-family: Questrial, Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 27.200000762939453px;">Only seven pieces of clothes for a month.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; font-family: Questrial, Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 27.200000762939453px;"> </span></i></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; font-family: Questrial, Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 27.200000762939453px;"><b><i>Give away seven things we own a day for a month. </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; font-family: Questrial, Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 27.200000762939453px;"><b><i>Eliminate seven forms of media for a month. </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; font-family: Questrial, Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 27.200000762939453px;"><b><i>Adopt seven substantial habits for a greener life.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; font-family: Questrial, Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 27.200000762939453px;"><b><i>Spend money in only seven places. </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; font-family: Questrial, Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 27.200000762939453px;"><b><i>Practice "seven sacred pauses" a day</i></b></span></div>
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In her words, <i><b>"</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #4e4a41; font-size: 16px; line-height: 27.200000762939453px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>a deeply reduced life to find a greatly increased God" </b> </span></span></i></div>
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I should mention that I read this book while on a 7-day <a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2012/09/cruisin.html" target="_blank">15th anniversary cruise </a>with my
husband. Oh, the irony was rich as we sailed the seas in that mammoth vessel where
excess was celebrated, expected and blissfully enjoyed. Naturally, we had a
great time on that vacation but<b><span style="font-size: small;"> the 7 book </span></b>really captured my thoughts. All gussied up in our new duds we feasted on a 5-course (of course) dinner where I shared with Dan all the ways this
book had challenged me. He graciously listened and curiously smiled at my new
passion and plans for simplifying our lives upon returning home. He
knowingly nodded his head up and down and then proceeded to order three desserts. </div>
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You guessed it. I didn't change a thing. The book went on the shelf and I hit the nearest Target.</div>
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Many months zipped by, yet the quiet, muddled corner of my heart that wanted to apply
what God was teaching me since reading<b><i> </i>the 7 book<i> </i></b>became louder and clearer.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Last Autumn my sister mentioned that a couple years back she and her good
friend decided to embark on a challenge to purchase no new clothing for a
year. I vaguely remember this. I think I heard about it, dismissed it, and felt satisfied that I <i>"didn't have to do something like that." </i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
They had their rationale, rules and from what I understand
they stuck it out. As Stacey reminded me of this, I was suddenly pricked with the memory of <b>the 7 book</b> and how fired up I was at the time about addressing my main area of excess: CLOTHING. </div>
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Then came the holidays. And I needed a new outfit(s).</div>
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What really swung my pendulum was an experience I had
right after this new year. I invited my sister-in-law over to browse
through my closet for a dress to wear to a wedding she was attending. I love
to share my clothes so I happily and pridefully brought out dress,
after dress, after dress, after dress, </div>
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after dress, </div>
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after dress,</div>
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after dress.</div>
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She was gracious but clearly surprised and somewhat shocked at all the offerings. </div>
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It
was then that I realized it was time<i> ~~insert shudder here~~</i> to make a New Year's Resolution. </div>
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It was
then that I knew I needed to -- for once, actually challenge myself.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>PURCHASE NO NEW CLOTHING FOR 365</b><b> DAYS</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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In January I loitered around fully committing and just tested the waters
a bit. I tried out what it might feel like to withhold from buying
clothes whenever it fancied me. Meanwhile, I secretly hoped this trial
period would be my window to screw up, buy a pair of boots and coyly
say "Oh, well. It was fun (#notfun) while it lasted...
get.out.of.my.face.I.am.going.to.TJMaxx."</div>
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Friends, it's almost March, me thinks it's time to fully commit. </div>
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<br /></div>
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It's
not just the mass quantity of clothing I have that sparked this
experiment. Too many dresses is just the presenting problem. And
hear me when I say, it's not a stretch to say this is a problem. I
just counted <span style="font-size: large;"><b>39</b></span> sleeveless tank tops in my drawer. </div>
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<b>What's the problem behind the problem? From where must change originate? Why do I feel called to this? </b></div>
</div>
<div>
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These are some of the things I hope to explore and learn in the midst of this experiment. Here at the blog I'll talk about this challenge along the way as a means of accountability and learning. It's been 8 weeks and I already have a few stories to share. More on those cheater boots later.<br />
<br />
Here goes nothing. As in I have nothing to wear. really. 14 skirts can't possibly get me though the summer!!??<br />
<br />
<b>Guidelines:</b><br />
<br />
**No NEW clothing purchased by myself for myself. My sis said that during her challenge Thrift Store items were acceptable to buy when and only if there was a need. Add to that - at time of purchase a clothing donation to said thrift store is mandatory. <u>I am still wondering about this.</u> Is it just a loophole? I'm afraid if I allow myself this, I'll be scouring Goodwill every week for something just SOMETHING FOR THE LOVE OF PETE, to buy.<br />
<br />
**Gifts can be accepted but not begged for. (Praises be for my upcoming birthday!)<br />
<br />
**Get creative with the clothing items I already have<br />
<br />
**Continue to clean out my closet and downsize. Find the things that fit well, have longevity in condition and style. Eliminate the things I don't intend to or rarely wear. Stick with the old trustys. <br />
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**Pray for resolve and sticktoitiveness with this challenge. Petition God to teach me through this, even as it may just seem like a silly venture.<br />
<br />
**<span class="text Matt-6-28" id="en-NIV-23311"><span class="woj"><sup class="versenum"> <b><span style="font-size: small;">Matthew 6:28-30</span></b></sup></span></span><span class="text Matt-6-28" id="en-NIV-23311"><span class="woj"><sup> </sup></span></span><span class="text Matt-6-28" id="en-NIV-23311"><span class="woj"><sup class="versenum">28 </sup>“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin.</span></span> <span class="text Matt-6-29" id="en-NIV-23312"><span class="woj"><sup class="versenum">29 </sup>Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.</span></span> <span class="text Matt-6-30" id="en-NIV-23313"><span class="woj"><sup class="versenum">30 </sup>If
that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and
tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you
of little faith?</span></span> <br />
<br />
Stay Tuned. Or , maybe even join me? <br />
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Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-71896462667239397602014-08-04T22:36:00.000-04:002014-08-06T16:42:28.818-04:00Ham on Buns.<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes I'm so </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">oddly conscious of things that some folks might not give a first thought to... much less a second thought or a 15th thought. Often, it bugs me that I'm this way. Sometimes it's exactly how I grow...</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My first unsettled experience with ham-on-buns came about 17 years ago.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Wait. Ham-on-buns, you (did or did not) ask?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the mid-western, religious, Dutch influenced culture where I've grown up, life events most always involve food. Okay, food at life events aren't just ritual in our little corner, but ham-on-buns may just be. As my life has been filled with weddings, baptisms, graduations, and funerals-- often included like part of the family is the tray of lunch meat on buttered rolls (buns) and starchy side dishes. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ham-on-buns. <b>It's what's for dinner.</b> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Okay, back to the story. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was 20 and my paternal grandmother had passed away. Following the funeral service I watched my male cousins carry and lift the casket gently into the hearse. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A touching moment. </span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Witnessing my older, tall and normally jovial cousins visibly and audibly emotional was uncomfortable. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And sad. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And good. But it didn't last long. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I sensed there was but a brief window for that kind of emotional let go, as moments later we were being quietly instructed to go to the basement for lunch. </span><br>
<br></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"What!??" I thought. "How am I supposed to feel this kind of sorrow one minute and indifferently slather mayo on a sandwich, the next?" </span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">No way. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'd dare to assume at this point most normal people would be anxious to move things along. Grief is not an enjoyable state, eating lunch is. But as I sat there staring at the foam plate and bakery bun, I was somber and silent. 17 years ago, I found absolutely no value in the post funeral luncheon. </span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And then we went home.</span><br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtp6zRv8iW_E-Z6tFOHjNIsTgJiuisW0pCNgazJgff9THHqP_5nFrTB5MJ5uB8NB2m0GfPBOHQhHj_5xRibLVtfrCiPbGLsFfMVTh9CtC5OBenxdHXukqDszfyyxPOjcpTR0D/s1600/G&G+Hopkins+with+Shelly+1976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtp6zRv8iW_E-Z6tFOHjNIsTgJiuisW0pCNgazJgff9THHqP_5nFrTB5MJ5uB8NB2m0GfPBOHQhHj_5xRibLVtfrCiPbGLsFfMVTh9CtC5OBenxdHXukqDszfyyxPOjcpTR0D/s1600/G&G+Hopkins+with+Shelly+1976.jpg" height="281" width="400"></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Early this spring my paternal grandfather (Gramps) entered his eternal home and many of the same scenes and faces from Grandma's funeral were present at his. It was, in part a thankful celebration. Of the life he lived and loved, and of God's faithfulness to our ever growing family-- of Jesus' redemption in Grandpa's life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">All of the great times, the painful times, the strong as well as strained relationships were brought to the first five rows of church pews that morning. We lifted our voices in "Great Is Thy Faithfulness" and it will go down as one of the most precious moments of my life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Following the service and recessional I felt the now familiar inner struggle welling up. Slip away and grieve, or line up for ham? I hugged my Dad, my husband, my brother. I could have stayed there all day. Then from the corner of my eye I saw my eldest daughter embrace my mom and begin to weep. I know she loved Great-Gramps but I wasn't sure how her first funeral experience would effect her. I talked with her quietly and realized something. These sad feelings were difficult for her and as glad as I was that she could express them, she might also learn from the upcoming hour. </span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, just like the well meaning white-haired ladies at Grandma's funeral 17 years prior, I asked my girl,</span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"How about we go and eat lunch, does that sound good?" </span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It did.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We walked to the other side of the church and what began with- quiet tones of wiping tears and blowing noses beautifully transitioned into smiles, </span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and memories-- </span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and breaking bread together. </span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>I had finally found value in the ritual.</b> </span></span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span><br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_loQqIV0nBRmocF0bgTlpiG3FUs7O1I_4RCF53jrhGhl8E7p7YaXt-9Jb-M-Iv_dm1IRkLtahzH8hrZnV2WkG5Z-fcT8GIOeaw0dzj70O7Co65BrNHOfdieAMtHRNShED8hTL/s1600/the+greater+Hopkins+Fam+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_loQqIV0nBRmocF0bgTlpiG3FUs7O1I_4RCF53jrhGhl8E7p7YaXt-9Jb-M-Iv_dm1IRkLtahzH8hrZnV2WkG5Z-fcT8GIOeaw0dzj70O7Co65BrNHOfdieAMtHRNShED8hTL/s1600/the+greater+Hopkins+Fam+2014.jpg" height="205" width="400"></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">A large (but not the whole) part of the family poses for a photo </span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">following the --much to my delight-- Ham-on...croissants!</span></i></span></div>
<br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It was<span style="font-size: large;"> Sadness</span> and <span style="font-size: large;">Celebration.</span></span></span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Pain,</span> still <span style="font-size: large;">Praise.</span></span></span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Death</span>, yet<span style="font-size: large;"> Victory</span>!</span></span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://thegospelcoalition.org/article/joy-and-sorrow-intermingled" target="_blank">Joy and sorrow are often intermingled into the ways and the days of this life. </a> </span></span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br></span></span>
<br>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>What is your only comfort<br>
in life and in death? </i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> That I am not my own,<br>
but belong— </i></div>
<i>
</i><br>
<div class="indent_one" style="text-align: center;">
<i> body and soul,<br>
in life and in death—</i> </div>
<i>
</i><br>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.</i> </div>
<i>
</i><br>
<div class="indented_paragraph" style="text-align: center;">
<div class="indent_one">
<i> He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood,<br>
and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil.<br>
He also watches over me in such a way<br>
that not a hair can fall from my head<br>
without the will of my Father in heaven;<br>
in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.</i> </div>
<i> Because I belong to him,<br>
Christ, by his Holy Spirit,<br>
assures me of eternal life<br>
and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready<br>
from now on to live for him.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> </i> </div>
</div>
The Heidelberg Catechism above says <b><i>"all things"</i></b><br>
<br>
I desire to be a person who can see the big picture, have that keen awareness of <span style="font-family: inherit;">all the gifts and all the grace surrounding life's circumstances. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the great moments and especially in the hard times be less bogged down with fickle feelings and more attuned to what The Lord wants me to <span style="font-size: large;"><i>see </i></span>and <span style="font-size: large;"><i>learn</i></span>. </span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's not easy. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Just about anything can fog our senses. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But by the same token, just about anything can be used to teach us. </span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Even a ham sandwich.</span><br>
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<iframe frameborder="0" src="https://widgets.itunes.apple.com/widget.html?c=us&brc=FFFFFF&blc=FFFFFF&trc=FFFFFF&tlc=FFFFFF&d=tunes that inspire&t=my tunes for the blog&m=song&e=song&w=250&h=300&ids=79268800&wt=playlist&partnerId=&affiliate_id=&at=&ct=" style="border: 0px; height: 300px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; width: 250px;"></iframe>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-91961607336628287362014-04-08T09:54:00.002-04:002014-04-08T20:17:28.857-04:00when winter came.<div>
<i>(Photo from our back yard one rare day </i><br />
<i>when the sun broke through)</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It's been a winter for the record books where we live. Snow upon snow
upon snow that we push into piles and create pathways to go where we gots to git. (</span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">sorry for the poor grammar- but I'm not a professional writer, so I can get away with it!)</i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> We deal with winter's blow and look forward to brighter days when
the sea of white will dissipate, because we know it will. </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">As long as
the earth endures</i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">, seasons change. It's a promise. </span></div>
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As we wait for the literal winter to secede there is a figurative winter that our family is waiting through.<br />
May I share a little more about it?<br />
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First though, a little background from my childhood... <br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">When we heard the back door open, we'd come running.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Barbie dolls, Legos, dress up clothes all left in the dust when we realized our Daddy was home from work! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">It was like an amusement park ride how he could lift up all three of us at once and tote us around. Did he have super human strength? I'm sure I thought he did. I was wee and he was mighty!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Day to day experiences like that among many others throughout my childhood sealed for me the impression that my Dad was amazing, invincible and unlike no other. I am grateful for this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Our Dad's mild stroke just after the new year took us all by surprise. Over the last months many have expressed to me how Dad is so healthy, strong & fit and didn't seem likely for such a health crisis. Initially, I shared those sentiments as facts because as far as a 61 year old goes, he is active, full of vim and vigor. Not living a sedentary lifestyle and responsibly monitoring his health status, I always assumed from a medical standpoint Dad was better than the average. As his doctor could attest, that was a fair assumption.</span></span></div>
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But what was really happening for me was something less factual and more emotional. <i> (I know, imagine that?) </i>It didn't matter to me that he didn't fit the typical risk factors for stroke or not--yet suffered one anyway. In my heart he wasn't supposed to have a stroke because he was the Super Human father that lifted me up both physically as a child and in every other way since childhood. <br />
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<i>(Photo courtesy of Footstock Barefoot Tournament) </i></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It was the first time I would come to the awareness that our Dad is in fact, super! </span>Yet also... human. </div>
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I know, rather a late realization. But an important one. Although an uneasy understanding for me that my Dad wasn't invincible after all, I began to see Dad as God's child! In unique and powerful ways our Heavenly Father carries His children through seasons of winter in our lives. As the weeks went by this was very true for Dad. You see, a super hero wouldn't admit weakness or see the need for help. In Dad's humble humanity he worked hard at regaining strength. He wasn't too manly or macho to take a break from work, or even driving for that matter. I smiled often in the dead of this very long winter as Mom escorted Dad everywhere for awhile. They really are two peas in a pod. I'm inspired by and have learned so much from them through this experience.<br />
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As our Heavenly father strengthened Dad's health and resolve following the stroke, He also strengthens my heart against worry and fear. We experienced again the gifts bestowed though community, His Word, hugs, prayer, & conversations. God blesses, even through hardship and unresolved outcomes. He doesn't let us go! In His strength we are lifted and carried around when we run to him. I like to picture it in much the same way my Daddy lifted me as a youngster.<br />
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Dad's prognosis is good, yet still-- we wait. For winter to melt away and for the possibility of Dad's vision to return full and clear... for spring to arrive. <br />
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But, we wait with hope, we hope with faith. We are always held, no matter what. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">No human, not even the biggest, strongest, wealthiest, hero you know can offer this kind of assurance when the winter comes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Only The Lord Almighty, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">as we humble ourselves before Him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Run to Him! </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="text Song-2-11" id="en-NIV-17566" style="position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">11 </span>See! The winter is past;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Song-2-11" style="position: relative;">the rains are over and gone.</span></span><br /><span class="text Song-2-12" id="en-NIV-17567" style="position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">12 </span>Flowers appear on the earth;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Song-2-12" style="position: relative;">the season of singing has come,</span></span><br /><span class="text Song-2-12" style="position: relative;">the cooing of doves</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Song-2-12" style="position: relative;">is heard in our land.</span></span><br /><span class="text Song-2-13" id="en-NIV-17568" style="position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">13 </span>The fig tree forms its early fruit;<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-17568A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></span></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Song-2-13" style="position: relative;">the blossoming<span class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-17568B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></span> vines spread their fragrance.</span></span><br /><span class="text Song-2-13" style="position: relative;">Arise, come, my darling;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Song-2-13" style="position: relative;">my beautiful one, come with me.”</span></span></span></div>
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Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-6928191295846873972014-03-01T14:56:00.001-05:002014-03-01T14:56:20.356-05:00Birthday BuddiesOn this date in history 10 years ago and 38 years ago, two mothers labored for their firstborn daughters. <br />
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In this true story, the two mothers are mother and daughter. Have I lost you yet? <br />
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It's one of my life's greatest gifts and a fabulous fun fact that our daughter Joy was born on my 28th Birthday, 10 years ago today, March 1. <br />
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Last night, instead of a hospital room where I found myself 10 years prior I looked across a hotel room where my girl was fast asleep. For this duel birthday we took a brief girls getaway and it was so so good. As I watched her browse the racks at the thrift store, order a grilled cheese for supper, find her birthday gift (a Go-Go Pillow) on clearance, and swim with glee in the hotel pool, I sense we are nearing the end of an era. I feel it like a tightening in my chest, the future. This care-free soul will in the years to come find challenge, disappointment, heartache--just all the things about being a teen. <br />
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I wonder if I used the last 10 years wisely. <br />
Have I taught by word <i>and</i> deed and by the Word?<br />
Have her father and I planted the seeds that will grow into healthy self-esteem and confidence?<br />
Will she ease into the changes that await or clumsily stumble through?<br />
Does she know, Does she <b>know</b> of God's goodness and grace?<br />
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and then I see her ways..<br />
she leads, she nurtures, she's brave, she's fiery, she's persistent, she's expressive, she creates, she thinks, she's independent, she questions, she serves, she loves.<br />
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Little pieces of her fallible parents<br />
and<br />
Large works of a great God, and He is only just beginning.<br />
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Undoubtedly, the next decade will pass as quickly as her first, so milestones (like reaching Double Digits) compel me to celebrate and reflect. Perhaps I over-think at times, but it nearly always brings me to the same place...<br />
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Thankfulness.<br />
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Hope.</div>
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Joy.<br />
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Her name befits her. <br />
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I rejoice in life today- past, present and future!<br />
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Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-46316555583308473282013-12-31T15:19:00.000-05:002014-01-01T12:07:21.314-05:00of pride, humility, irony, grace. just all of it. It's kind of a family joke that us Hopkins have a good sized egos. We like to call it a healthy self confidence... perhaps too healthy. Is that possible?<br />
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<i>Yes.</i><br />
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When your ego (or mine in this case) gets too confident it quickly and lastingly turns into pride.<br />
Isn't that one of the seven deadly sins?<br />
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<i>Yes.</i><br />
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I think over the last year I've let pride get a strong grip on me. <br />
From my view I was managing life pretty well.<br />
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<i>5 kids?-- I've got this.</i><br />
<i>Husband working a lot?-- not a problem, I'm used to it.</i><br />
<i>Meaningful service at church? -- check.</i><br />
<i>Social life?-- blessing upon blessing.</i><br />
<i>Healthy grieving following the loss of our baby April? -- Thank you, Lord. Yes.</i><br />
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When things are calm and life steadily rolls, pride sneaks in. I begin to think that every move I make, every word I speak is all good, all right, all according to God's plan.<br />
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I wholeheartedly believe that truth, that of God's sovereign will, His plan, His purpose. Each high and low and middle ground I experience is part of this.<br />
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Here's the thing, though. God created me with free will. So when I make mistakes, or let's call them what they often are -- Sin, that is on me.<br />
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After hurting a long time friend last year through a series of prideful actions I am learning<i> </i>just how hidden my ego and pride are to me. This has caused me to be largely silent here at the blog but also because I started to think that writing here seemed like a big fat brag and I needed to shut-up. <br />
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<i>Here are MY thoughts...</i><br />
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<i>Hey - check out MY kids!!</i><br />
<i>Look how I have MY life put together.</i><br />
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I wondered if this blog, much like Facebook is only another avenue for self promotion and it made me uneasy. Not because I am a private person (I'm not) but because who in the world am I to say anything at all?<br />
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<i>I often have a skewed attitude and no perspective</i><br />
<i>I make judgements. On people, situations, and anything else I can form an opinion about. </i><br />
<i>I consider myself responsible to change others, outcomes, and situations. </i><br />
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It all reeks of pride. <br />
Could I be more fallible? <br />
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<i>Yes.</i> Here's how...<br />
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As I read more teachings on <a href="http://kellerquotes.com/the-radical-humility-of-jesus/" target="_blank">humility and pride</a> I see the irony and twisted humility I possess to even write about this struggle. Knowing this, should I never introspect? Perhaps I should just shut down the blog and deactivate my Facebook. I'm not clear yet what God is calling me to do, but I am searching.<br />
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I read this quote from <a href="http://kellerquotes.com/" target="_blank">Tim Keller</a> last week and found inspiration to complete this post. You see, I started writing it months ago and was stuck every time I tried to finish. <br />
I felt I couldn't complete the blog post until I had nicely put this pride struggle in the <i>lesson-learned-never-to-repeat </i>compartment<i>.</i> I'm realizing now-- that compartment has a revolving door. <br />
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In this New Year I pray for God's Grace and His Spirit to fill me more and more. <br />
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<i>Let true humility reign. </i><br />
<i>Keep my ego in the right balance. </i><br />
<i>Gratitude, always gratitude. </i><br />
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<a href="http://kellerquotes.com/the-radical-humility-of-jesus/" target="_blank"><u>The Radical Humility of Jesus </u></a><i><br /></i></div>
Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-10182747103273114802013-09-12T13:55:00.000-04:002013-09-12T19:39:24.433-04:00a new school year... infused with 10% more gratitude!<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">I haven't blogged but twice in the last year and I hope to pick this up again. There have been many thoughts that swirl in my head and heart the last 3 years that I've found helpful to explore here in blogsville. Reading my former posts also creates for me a convicting archive to look back on and see if I've grown... as a mother, a wife, a follower and servant of Christ. And really, if I'm not growing, what's the point of all this expression besides just a bunch of cyber hot air? </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">I wrote the post copied below <b>one year ago today</b>.
It's really kind of amusing and comforting to read it now as I feel
very much the same. Minus the orange soda disaster but with the added
bonus of even more inside out, balled up sweaty soccer socks. </span></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Yes, today's post is a bit of a repeat but I had to jump start the minivan somehow!</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">more(new)to come. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"></span><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span>Wednesday, September 12, 2012</span></i></span></b></span><br>
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<i><a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2012/09/small-victories.html">small victories.</a></i>
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<b>"Made it to Tuesday!"</b> my friend texted me yesterday.<br>
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I smiled because I was really feeling that text. <br>
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Making it to Tuesday seems almost laughable doesn't it?<br>
How can we not make it to a Tuesday? it's only the 3rd day of the week, how hard can it be?<br>
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Sometimes Monday is such a <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Monday</span></b>, that Tuesday's arrival is a thing of victory! <br>
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<b>"Made it to Tuesday!" </b><br>
It's not nearly as accomplished as the victorious shout, <b>"TGIF !!!"</b><br>
...but, at times it sure feels like it.<br>
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It's that time of year where I have to right my attitude rather often.<br>
School is back in session, and with it comes all the busy.<br>
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The <b>big irony</b> of my life is this...<br>
<b>I.DON'T.LIKE.BEING.CRAZY.BUSY.</b><br>
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It annoys me. Unlike some, I don't thrive on chaos, but secretly wish I did. <br>
I tend to lose function (and graciousness) right at the height of the busyness.<br>
It's not a great scene.<br>
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After those moments I am always left with this: a pile of crying kids,
sky high laundry, incomplete homework. Oh, and let's just throw in a
<b> completely spilled 2L of orange soda</b>, Dan working out of town and a
teething toddler for good measure. </i><br>
<i>How do I reconcile my aversion to busyness with the reality that I have 5
kids going in 5 different directions? I ask myself that question quite
often because <i>wishing</i> my life was slower paced, more home based
and less minivan occupied is really not going to help matters. I must
take actions to keep myself from the quicksand of grumbling
discontent. <br>
<br>
This week's action: <b>ATTITUDE of GRATITUDE</b><br>
with a rambling <s> manifesto </s>prayer...<br>
<br>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">How
can I not completely bust open with thankfulness for all that God has
given me? Does sticky orange soda ALL OVER EVERYWHERE really amount to
anything when compared to the 5 healthy, funny, naughty, unique kids
that spilled it?</span></i><br>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br></span></i>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">NO.
Our kids are gifts. Every moment that I cart them around, wipe their
butts, fold their laundry, make their sandwiches, give them tylenol,
cheer them on, and put them to bed is a gift of a life</span></i><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> with</span></i></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> them.</span></i><br>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Yes,
of course I will feel like I am going off the rails from time to time
but, Lord, help me not to lose perspective for too long. </span></i><br>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">God,
speak to me when I can't seem to do one more math problem or tackle
the dishwasher for the millioneth time Remind me Lord, that these
moments are purposeful, sacred. </span></i><br>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">YOU have called me to </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">them.</span></i><br>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br></span></i>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">During
it all help me celebrate the small victories, see the wins, may they
stimulate my day and my attitude so I know just how precious this life
is. </span></i></i><br>
<br>
<i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">May I always thank you, Lord for these days... even the Mondays.</span></i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i><br></i></span></i></i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: purple;"><span class="Apple-style-span">The Steadfast Love of the Lord Never Ceases,</span></span></span><br><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: purple;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
His Mercies Never Come to an End.</span></span></span><br><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: purple;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
They are New Every Morning,</span></span></span><br><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: purple;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
New Every Morning.</span></span></span><br><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: purple;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
Great is Thy Faithfulness, Oh Lord.</span></span></span><br><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: purple;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
Great is Thy Faithfulness! </span></span></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: purple;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Lamentations 3:22-23 </span></span></span><i> </i><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJzZKarPnw-SVxvd_eHGo-FndO7fN_n5ENpySafVhSG8GBWEtYT0l7bsrEZuERG6Zkj6GzmDqq7zbGDs-z5ZRQotEkrLs7kGJz5D-GgAZRUnkjK8PnOn68RuRiD1R9W7jOC9ya/s640/blogger-image--875112295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJzZKarPnw-SVxvd_eHGo-FndO7fN_n5ENpySafVhSG8GBWEtYT0l7bsrEZuERG6Zkj6GzmDqq7zbGDs-z5ZRQotEkrLs7kGJz5D-GgAZRUnkjK8PnOn68RuRiD1R9W7jOC9ya/s640/blogger-image--875112295.jpg"></a></div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-8339260483008543422013-04-15T21:14:00.001-04:002013-04-15T23:00:04.053-04:00an offeringI remember my Mom telling me what song they sang in church the Sunday morning following my delivery of our 5th baby, a girl we named <a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/p/aprils-story.html" target="_blank">April</a>. Mom said I would have had a difficult time singing the words, as did she that Spring Sunday morning, 3 years ago.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Blessed be Your Name</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>On the road marked with suffering<br />
Though there's pain in the offering<br />
Blessed be Your name</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>The reality of pregnancy loss and the literal giving away of our deceased baby to the nurse was, as the lyrics of the song truthfully convey, a painful offering. <br />
<br />
Was it a true offering? Something (someone) was being taken that I was unwilling to give. At the time it seemed to make no earthly sense.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">Why was I given only 17 weeks to carry her? </div><div style="text-align: left;">Was I to offer God the life of this baby? a life that had already ended? </div><br />
I used to think of an offering as a voluntary action. I give my time or my service, or maybe even a gift or tithe. Offerings were something I initiated, that I was comfortable with. Meaningful and fruitful, but not painful offerings. <br />
<br />
3 years ago today God moved in my life to make an offering of a different sort. When faced with the devastation and sadness of April's death I learned (although not immediately) that I had to offer it <b>all</b> back to the Lord. The confusion, the ache, the tears, the emptiness, the doubt, the fear. I had to release my plans, our hopes for the child this baby would become. Hanging on so tightly to these things would never give me peace.<br />
<br />
The song continues and within the chorus, these words:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>You give and take away<br />
You give and take away<br />
My heart will choose to say<br />
Lord, blessed be Your name</i></b></div><br />
I had always found these lyrics perplexing.<br />
Yes, God gives. That was easy to see. All I had to do was look at the beautiful faces of my 4 children.<br />
He gives immeasurably more than we need and most certainly more than what's deserved. Perhaps this song speaks also of the comfort God gives, or the Grace and love he lavishes on us. Or the joy in Salvation that circumstance can't deplete. <br />
<b>He gives. </b><br />
<br />
But, the next part...<br />
He gives... AND takes away? Lord Blessed be your Name? <br />
If I sing this, do I claim that God took our baby? am I supposed to praise His name anyway?<br />
That seemed to make lesser sense.<br />
Praising God in the midst of pain is work, it is a choice, it's an offering. It takes faith. For me it opened my heart for healing. I believe this song speaks also to the way Jesus takes away our hurts, our anger, our sadness, our guilt, our sin. <br />
<b>He takes. </b><br />
<br />
I don't want to imply that 3 years later everything is tied up nicely with a bow and this chapter is closed. Nor do I mean to over simplify healing or equate my loss with the pain another may be experiencing. I do desire to be honest about what I've learned. I am thankful to see the ways the Spirit moves in my life through our loss of April. So, yes. Her short life was an offering. An offering of my heart to ways that were not my own. A yielding to the Father when my circumstance was beyond my understanding. <br />
<br />
In those days I realized with new eyes that God held my life, just as He held April's life until the moment her heart stopped beating, and that He holds her still today.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzrV2pAIy6JM_R_JkhfLQ0RqPozwLQ-Sf_7zR3QlOqS7f2VWvYX3pgDyCyZJR12CZ8VGLzEhOozJR1O5xvaorsQ5bHjOZ9h3HekobdRTcSPxBgRZmTBW0gAoQxXQ-mPelunq4L/s1600/IMG_3474.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzrV2pAIy6JM_R_JkhfLQ0RqPozwLQ-Sf_7zR3QlOqS7f2VWvYX3pgDyCyZJR12CZ8VGLzEhOozJR1O5xvaorsQ5bHjOZ9h3HekobdRTcSPxBgRZmTBW0gAoQxXQ-mPelunq4L/s320/IMG_3474.JPG" width="238" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">If you are new or are interested in reading more about my story...</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"> <a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/p/aprils-story.html" target="_blank">Here is a link</a> to click. It's a summary with additional links to other posts.</span></i></div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-11867321331704558722012-09-12T23:29:00.002-04:002012-09-12T23:55:01.664-04:00small victories.<b><i>"Made it to Tuesday!"</i></b> my friend texted me yesterday.<br />
<br />
I smiled because I was really feeling that text. <br />
<br />
Making it to Tuesday seems almost laughable doesn't it?<br />
How can we not make it to a Tuesday? it's only the 3rd day of the week, how hard can it be?<br />
<br />
Sometimes Monday is such a <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Monday</span></b>, that Tuesday's arrival is a thing of victory! <br />
<br />
<b><i>"Made it to Tuesday!" </i></b><br />
It's not nearly as accomplished as the victorious shout, <b><i>"TGIF !!!"</i></b><br />
...but, at times it sure feels like it.<br />
<br />
It's that time of year where I have to right my attitude rather often.<br />
School is back in session, and with it comes all the busy.<br />
<br />
The <b>big irony</b> of my life is this...<br />
<b>I.DON'T.LIKE.BEING.CRAZY.BUSY.</b><br />
<br />
It annoys me. Unlike some, I don't thrive on chaos, but secretly wish I did. <br />
I tend to lose function (and graciousness) right at the height of the busyness.<br />
It's not a great scene.<br />
<br />
After those moments I am always left with this: a pile of crying kids, sky high laundry, incomplete homework. Oh, and let's just throw in a completely spilled 2L of orange soda, Dan working out of town and a teething toddler for good measure. <br />
<br />
How do I reconcile my aversion to busyness with the reality that I have 5 kids going in 5 different directions? I ask myself that question quite often because <i>wishing</i> my life was slower paced, more home based and less minivan occupied is really not going to help matters. I must take actions to keep myself from the quicksand of grumbling discontent. <br />
<br />
This week's action: <b>ATTITUDE of GRATITUDE</b><br />
with a rambling <s> manifesto </s>prayer...<br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">How can I not completely bust open with thankfulness for all that God has given me? Does sticky orange soda ALL OVER EVERYWHERE really amount to anything when compared to the 5 healthy, funny, naughty, unique kids that spilled it?</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">NO. Our kids are gifts. Every moment that I cart them around, wipe their butts, fold their laundry, make their sandwiches, give them tylenol, cheer them on, and put them to bed is a gift of a life</span></i><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> with</span></i></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> them.</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Yes, of course I will feel like I am going off the rails from time to time but, Lord, help me not to lose perspective for too long. </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">God, speak to me when I can't seem to do one more math problem or tackle the dishwasher for the millioneth time Remind me Lord, that these moments are purposeful, sacred. </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">YOU have called me to </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">them.</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">During it all help me celebrate the small victories, see the wins, may they stimulate my day and my attitude so I know just how precious this life is. </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></i>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><i></i></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">May I always thank you, Lord for these days... even the Mondays.</span></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">I </span></i>hope to work through and write about other intentional actions I can take to be the Momma I want to be.<br />
but don't hold your breath...<br />
I am a slow learner.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">thanks for the inspirational text, <a href="http://wwwnatsnews.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">friend</a>- truly.</span><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The Steadfast Love of the Lord Never Ceases,</i><br />
<i>His Mercies Never Come to an End.</i><br />
<i>They are New Every Morning,</i><br />
<i>New Every Morning.</i><br />
<i>Great is Thy Faithfulness, Oh Lord.</i><br />
<i>Great is Thy Faithfulness!</i>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-5003469215246529672012-09-03T14:56:00.000-04:002012-09-03T14:56:08.761-04:00good times. noodle salad.So, here I am at the end of another summer season with my thoughts and photo archives bursting at the seams. We had more than enough activity to fill our days and nights and weekends. I am thankful for this. It made the long days and nights with Dan working away more bearable and we created memories I hope the kids will hold onto. <br />
<br />
Here at the blog my tendency is to photo dump in an attempt to bring it up to date. Let's call it...<br />
<br />
SUMMER SNAPSHOT 2012<br />
<br />
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<br />Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-24249922750505404632012-09-02T23:09:00.000-04:002012-09-03T14:56:25.708-04:00Cruisin'I'll see you again in 15 years, I told him.<br />
<br />
It may just be that long, or longer before we are able to spend 8 days alone again.<br />
Back in March while Dan worked out of state, we planned a trip to celebrate our 15 year anniversary.<br />
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It kind of felt like one of those once in a lifetime vacations, and if that's true, we are even more grateful for it. <br />
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I'll be honest. Going into the trip I questioned 3 things:<br />
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Was the trip too long? <br />
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Would I miss the kids too much?<br />
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Would we remember how to be "just the two of us"?<br />
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The first day in we were quite tired from all the traveling so eating and sleeping took precedence. No time to worry about my 3 main concerns, we turned off the alarm and slept for what felt like a week.<br />
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Fully refreshed, the next couple days went lazily by. <i>The surreal life </i>is an accurate description to what we experienced on that cruise. No alarms. No kids. No work. No schedule. No cooking. No cleaning. No crying. No employees. No pressure. No stress.<br />
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I warned Dan for a few weeks prior that I had stored up many a conversation for the cruise. One thing that we don't have the luxury of at home is finding a great amount of time to just sit and talk about things. Things meaning more than our usual conversations about time he will be home from work and what kid needs what, where and how. <br />
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The cool thing about being away for 8 days is that you have all the time in the world to talk about the future, our family, our dreams, our struggles, our church, work, anything and everything. The cool thing is that on the cruise there were no distractions except if you count the waiter bringing me a bahama mama.<br />
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Question 1 answered. 8 days was not too long. It probably took me that long to get all my words out. <br />
Poor Dan.<br />
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Question 2. Would I miss the kids too much? We have been on trips before a few times in the first 15 and it seemed like those vacations found me homesick at some point. I have to admit... not this time. I love my children dearly, no surprise there, but being away from them was refreshing! Big surprise there! I knew they were having a wonderful time with Grandmas and Grandpas so I cruised that week free as a bird! No diapers to buy, no minivan to drive, no fights to break up. <br />
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Question 3. Would we remember how to be "just the two of us?" <br />
Well, this one was a bit more interesting. Since the year 2000 we've been Mom and Dad...not as much Dan and Chelle. I worried that we might stare at each other blankly and think... "who are you?"<br />
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Did I ever mention that I probably worry too much?<br />
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With dinners and shows and beaches, and pools, people watching and shopping, Oh, and how can I forget- Dan's slight Bingo obsession...<br />
We had more than enough to do remind us that we are capable of fun outside of our parental roles. <br />
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I miss that cruise. These days, it feels like it was just a dream. In some ways it kind of was. <br />
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I'll see you again in 15 years, Dan. <br />
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Until then, thank you for a lovely, precious time. We will always have that moment on the top deck. Remember? When we cruised out of the port into the sunset and I fell asleep on your shoulder? You may have thought it was the Benydryl I took for my heat rash that made me so drowsy, but really-- it was one of the most contented, peaceful moments of my life and I could just rest next to my love.<br />
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a few pix of the trip...<br />
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Oops. looks like someone forgot to pack black socks. </div>
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All fancied up for dinner.</div>
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Loving the Sun! a little too much actually according to my case of sun poisoning. </div>
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that was unfortunate!</div>
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Just about won us 5000 in Bingo! but instead lost 40 bucks in 20 minutes.</div>
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He <b>couldn't wai</b>t to plunge into that clear water in Tortola.</div>
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"hey, Hon. let me take a picture of you by the ocean."</div>
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Breakfast is served! I love me some room service. </div>
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On May 23, 2012 officially our 15th Anniversary.</div>
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again..." Hey Hon, let me take a picture of you by the ocean."</div>
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And one last little funny...</div>
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Dan would NOT let me purchase any of the posed photos that they take of you on the cruise. </div>
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He did however try to video tape me checking out the proofs in the photo gallery. </div>
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That is... before he was busted.</div>
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<br />Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-74782838982977822812012-07-19T00:10:00.000-04:002012-07-19T00:15:08.020-04:005k follow-upIt was probably the first thing I set my mind to in a LONG time that I actually accomplished.<br />
I have a ridiculous ability to talk myself out of doing things, and exercise was always one of them.<br />
if you wish, read the back story on this idea. <a href="http://mdieleman.blogspot.com/2012/04/its-gotta-be-shoes.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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Training for a 5k was so far out of my comfort zone that Dan and I chuckled a lot in back in March when I started. I would rather unwillingly drudge to the basement and set the treadmill to a rip roaring 4mph.<br />
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As March turned to April and then May I had improved my attitude by leaps and bounds and along with that came this curious actual desire to lace up and jog. A group of my wonderful gal pals and I were committed to running a local 5k, and it was drawing nearer and nearer. <br />
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I would have to say one of the funniest things about this journey was while Dan and I were on our anniversary cruise (more on that later). We had such an extreme amount of free time on our hands that we went to the ship's gym and ran on the treadmills. I am not sure I can accurately describe how obsurd this is for ol' Dan and Chelle. Any other vacation you'll likely find Dan camped out at the ice cream machine or midnight buffet and me at ... well, the swim up bar or ordering room service. So, you see, the ship's gym was unchartered territory. With the 5k looming I <b>had</b> to knock off a couple runs on vacay as to not fall too far behind.<br />
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All of a sudden it was race day. I was more nervous about Dan's abilities that day since he hadn't trained a lick. I figured I would be good to go. <br />
What followed was a butt kicking. His kicking mine- in regard to finishing times.<br />
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But that's OK. I took great delight in experiencing something completely new. There was SO much I learned in that race. Things to do differently, ways to push myself harder, and ultimately the sense of accomplishment of a personal goal. <br />
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i could not have done this without the encouragement from so many and I honestly thank them for it!<br />
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laugh. out. loud.</div>
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they also kicked my butt :) Way to get out there and run, Dykstras!</div>
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I do look forward to the next 5k. I really, Really need to shave a few minutes off my time!<br />
In the mean time, you might see me running down the street solving the world's problems in my head and (finally) enjoying every step!<br />
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a helpful quote I came across today... quite encouraging because oh, my. I experienced both!<br />
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<i>"Relish the bad training runs. Without them it's difficult to recognize, much less appreciate the good ones" </i><br />
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<i>--Pat Teske</i></div>
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<br />Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-411692815940953692012-07-15T23:43:00.002-04:002012-07-16T01:32:01.994-04:0015.<div style="text-align: center;">
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I wanted to do this 2 months ago, but you know how it is... life gets in the way.</div>
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So, 15 years and 2 months into our marriage we celebrate </div>
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with this slideshow of photos... through the years, </div>
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and a wedding prayer.</div>
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<i>Every step we are breathing in Your grace<br /> Evermore we’ll be breathing out Your praise.<br /> You are faithful, God, You are faithful. </i> </div>
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--- Matt Redman <i>Never Once </i></div>
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Father in heaven,<br />
give today your blessing<br />
upon the marriage of Dan and Michelle.<br />
We thank you for the vows<br />
they have spoken<br />
and the love in which<br />
they are now united.<br />
Keep them faithful and strong<br />
in every trial.<br />
Sustain their joy and affection<br />
for many years.<br />
We pray, Lord Jesus,<br />
that you will be acknowledged<br />
head of their home<br />
and master of their lives.<br />
Equip them, Holy Spirit,<br />
with patient endurance,<br />
sacrificial service, unfailing courtesy,<br />
endless trust, and lasting love.<br />
Grant that their home<br />
will often be a place of laughter;<br />
and in times of difficulty or trouble,<br />
a haven of healing and forgiveness.<br />
May they and their children<br />
give constant praise to you,<br />
eternal Father, who with the Son and
the Spirit<br />
is God, blessed and exalted forever.
Amen.</div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-41204961286119266902012-07-14T23:14:00.001-04:002012-07-14T23:19:41.796-04:00Spring into Summer!annnnd.... exhale.<br />
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Summer is here. Since my last post was Mother's Day and Father's Day is long gone...let's play catch up.<br />
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This poor blog has been largely ignored in the last while. <br />
I jumped into May ---held my breath and let it out when the kids finished school.<br />
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I'd like to point out (for the memory books) that my kids had an extra long Last Day O' School since I forgot what time dismissal was and the poor souls waited 20 minutes for this lady to mozy in with the minivan. <br />
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They survived, but I was bummed.<br />
I love that last day of school scene. Papers from somewhere mid year swirling around the halls, overflowing dumpsters and (dare I hope) recycle bins where all the year's hard work is laid to rest. I love the jubilant faces of the students as they slug that dirty backpack and smelly lunchbox over their shoulder one last time. <br />
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I see relief on the face of teachers that they survived or thrived another year. What is theirs for the taking is now respite, refreshment and renewal. ( for about 80 days ) But don't get me started on that. 'TIS TOO SHORT.<br />
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But, I missed it. Too late for pickup and 2 of my kids found other rides home. My eldest child waited patiently at the flagpole as I cruised into the drop off spot. My son who had just completed 6th grade, hopped in the van and shook his head with knowing. He knew I was late, he knew I was clueless, and he smiled anyway. Boy, did I grab hold of that. I don't know if that kind of grace comes regularly as a 6th grader turns 7th grader and beyond.<br />
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Insert Last Day Pic here:<br />
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Well, with the another Last Day and its story in the books I thought the easiest way to bring this bliggity blog up to speed is a photo dump. (thanks for new term, Jamie!)<br />
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And now, my lame attempt to record the doings from 2012 second quarter...<br />
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Naomi delights. She is now nearing 16 months and still refuses to walk... </div>
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or hold a sippy cup...<br />
It's no big secret why :) Let's just day she likes to be pampered.<br />
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My search ended for the perfect dresser! Finally, a real home for our unmentionables! </div>
Find the seller and professional painter : <a href="http://simpleredesign.blogspot.com/p/tutorials.html" target="_blank">http://simpleredesign.blogspot.com/p/tutorials.html</a>.<br />
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A trip with Drew to the Michigan Historical Museum. Love Rosie the Riveter. Reminded me of <a href="http://www.chelleslittlethings.blogspot.com/2011/12/pep-talk.html" target="_blank">this post </a>over on Little Things. The resemblance is uncanny!</div>
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The 4th Grade Wax Museum. Drew, as Wilbur Wright of the Wright Brothers.</div>
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Yes, I was constructing that plane into the wee hours of the night... </div>
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the night before. </div>
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It's how we do.</div>
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Over the last 3 summers I have really, really taken an interest in gardening. This beauty was a sad, spent, little clearance plant last year for one dollar. I had to wait a year, but it was worth it. </div>
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Second grade brings a day in the life of a pioneer girl. Joy was so excited to go to the one room school house and experience life as it once was. Real life Little House on the Prairie!<br />
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That wrapped up the school year.<br />
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Little did I know I needed to take another huge breath and hold it until after the 4th of July, when things would once again calm.<br />
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Happy Summer!<br />
More catch ups coming soon. <br />
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<br />Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-66187240870822850822012-05-13T12:25:00.000-04:002012-05-13T12:25:20.803-04:00a Mother's love.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My mom and I, with April.</div>
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A sad photo, but a beautiful love.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Happy Mother's Day!</span></div>
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May God bring you all the joys, comfort, peace, gratitude, love and hope that a day like this can bring.<br />
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<br />Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-88625592323063363192012-05-05T08:27:00.002-04:002012-05-05T08:27:26.125-04:00"never again"I'm sure I've mentioned before Dan's occupation is not predictable, stable, and only sometimes local.<br />
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I relish the sweet life when we can get 2 out of the three. Typically it's only one.<br />
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Sometimes I desire predictability. He says home by 6:00-- and at 6:12 I hear the diesel rolling up just in time for supper. This makes for a great night. <br />
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Sometimes I crave stability. Week to week income consistency. Perfect for budgeting, saving? and planning.<br />
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Other times (and thankfully, this one doesn't happen too often) I would like to hear Dan snoring next to me at night and not have to say goodnight over the phone.<br />
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<b>I am not trying to be whiney or sarcastic here. </b>I just needed to clarify that because sometimes tone is hard to detect in writing. I'm just sharing some thoughts and actualities.<br />
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Putting these wants down on virtual paper tells me something.<br />
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<b>It's all about me</b>.<br />
How<i> I</i> want <i>my</i> life to roll, how could <i>my</i> day to day be better? Why am <i>I</i> so overwhelmed?<br />
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These selfish tendencies start small as molehills and become mountains quite quickly. In March, I let it get the best of me when Dan worked far, far away.<br />
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<i><b>"Never Again!" </b></i> I ranted during our nightly telephone convo. I can't remember the details of that day, why I was so frustrated, or even what was his reply. I remember thinking how his job/his paycheck was absolutely not worth what <b><i>I</i></b> was going through during the 3 weeks alone with the 5.<br />
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Can you smell the selfishness?<br />
<i>I couldn't.</i><br />
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In fact, I was in danger of ruining his homecoming because I had a hard time letting go of how irritated I was. <br />
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I realize I sound like a disaster of a person here :) But what one of us hasn't had a moment where they felt like somehow their life wasn't what they signed up for? Don't we all have that <i>things </i>in our lives that etch away at our perspective? Those times when we are downright open season for the devil's schemes?<br />
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Is a comfortable, manageable existence my ultimate goal?<br />
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or<br />
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Is finding the God honoring way to live within the discomfort and irritation what I am called to do?<br />
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and<br />
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Should I put myself in the shoes of my husband who had to sleep in a hotel, away from his children, with no break from his employees, eating more restaurant meals than anyone would ever want. Away from me, from church family... separated from his life?<br />
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I could go on, but won't because there is a turning point to this story that came from an unexpected place. <br />
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You see, while I was disgruntled here at home something amazing and special was happening for a loved one of mine. I didn't know it at the time, but learned about it after the guys came home.<br />
I say guys, because Dan wasn't completely alone while he worked away. <br />
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He was with his Dad. His brothers. <br />
They<b> all</b> worked together on the same job. If I am correct, this hasn't happened before and most likely will not happen again. <br />
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So while I was grumbling away at home, Dad D. was experiencing moments to treasure and keep. <br />
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Dan and I talk often about the pros and cons of family business. I won't get into those but will say that once in awhile blessing trumps the hardships. <br />
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For many reasons, Maryland 2012 was one of those those times.<br />
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I am certain I will forget the annoyance it was for me to be alone for 3 weeks, but Dad will <b>never</b> forget the weeks he worked side by side with his sons in the beauty of spring.<br />
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This ones for you, Dad. It was your turn :) (insert smile here)Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22422071.post-24362588919964923872012-04-15T11:00:00.000-04:002012-04-15T10:33:11.192-04:002 yearsThere are certain landmarks, places in my everyday life<br />
that when I pass by them...<br />
I remember...<br />
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I am never so healed that I can't still feel the sadness.<br />
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Just a linger in my mind for awhile on a silent night brings me back. <br />
2 years.<br />
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I am that kind of person that has to feel, has to recall, has to express. I really couldn't let the 2 year mark of our baby's death and my delivery of her go unmentioned. It was too important an event in our lives and even 2 years past I still get emotional at the thought of what we went through.<br />
That is OK, and good. Freedom from hurt is not my goal. Grieving is not some kind of ladder to climb and when you reach the top you are free. That kind of freedom just can't be found on this earth. Strange as it may seems, I am thankful for the scar.<br />
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On the evening of April 14, 2010 we were scheduled at the hospital for the induction and delivery of our 5th baby, already passed away. We pulled up to the emergency room entrance like we had done 4 times before. This time was so very different. There was no excitement, only sorrow. A smiling man came out with the wheelchair to escort me. He didn't know why I was there. <br />
I didn't need a wheelchair, but I sat in it anyway. Someone wheeled me up to the corner room, far away from all the other labor and delivery mothers. My nurses that night already knew this was a case of fetal demise and I truly believe they were chosen by God to be at my side.<br />
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They. were. wonderful. <br />
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I recognized the mauve floral print of the wallpaper and decor of the hospital room. It used to be quaint and inviting.<br />
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It no longer was. <br />
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I hated being in that gown, wearing those slipper socks. I prayed about how I would find the strength to deliver a dead baby as my poor husband sat lovingly and helplessly by my side.<br />
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I just wanted to get it over with. Why couldn't they just knock me out, I thought?<br />
Why? Why did I have to be conscious of what was about to happen. Honestly, I felt like a terrified child. I cried and I cried. I wanted that baby, I wanted to carry her all summer, and deliver her full and alive on or around September 17. That was the plan, My plan.<br />
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God's plan was different.<br />
His ways are for my good. Always. It was a truth I knew even in those moments.<br />
He would sustain me. I just had to trust that.<br />
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April 14 turned into April 15 and at 4:12am, almost unintentionally I delivered a very small but incredibly real, still, baby.<br />
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I wailed.<br />
Dan held my hand and encouraged me, and watched in somewhat disbelief as well.<br />
Now what?<br />
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This is where the healing begins.<br />
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As with any baby birth, visitors followed. At first I wanted no one there, followed by wanting everyone there to see the reality of it. (I felt they wouldn't, they couldn't fully understand unless they saw her) But then, again I wanted no one there. <br />
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Our pastor visited us and I remember feeling bad that in the midst of a beautiful spring day he had to attend to and enter in to our sorrow. He sat with us, really let us be exactly where we were at, prayed with us and ultimately encouraged me with his confidence that I would not lose my faith over this, that I would certainly grieve but April's death was not a dealbreaker for me. I was stronger than that, and most importantly God's love is strongest and I was firmly in His grip. <br />
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<b>Every</b>time I pass by the church bathroom, visit our family doctor and see<i> that</i> exam room, drive the on ramp to the highway, see the daffodils bloom, wash Dan's black sweatshirt, converse with our pastor, hear specific songs (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLuaGiu73jc" target="_blank">the one playing in the background</a>)- I go there.<br />
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2 years later I don't know why God chose to take her to him. But I do have the gift of hindsight. Looking back I clearly see some of the ways God moved, lead, comforted. <br />
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In our hearts she leaves a legacy, in our hearts her very short life had value. In my heart I want to hold her again. Until then, I will continue to open the healing gifts that God gives. <br />
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Happy 2nd heavenly birthday, April. <br />
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Today we honor, remember, and thank God for you.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW7yqIeTh1qr-07vMLq1zMe6uJB1LXCVTaAKj29zU3lgdYPgZDV_eQ_evCDcChVpwzDUXiUvHL69zHEBpkutROCIlbJ2ETiA1bUb_69TkJsQlI7t_YsC5isF1xoxI9kmWK_r06/s1600/il_570xN.250148507.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW7yqIeTh1qr-07vMLq1zMe6uJB1LXCVTaAKj29zU3lgdYPgZDV_eQ_evCDcChVpwzDUXiUvHL69zHEBpkutROCIlbJ2ETiA1bUb_69TkJsQlI7t_YsC5isF1xoxI9kmWK_r06/s320/il_570xN.250148507.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07655220078447151011noreply@blogger.com9