tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81653675612195381942024-02-19T01:10:27.271-06:00bijougirl etc.The musings of Amanda Conley (A.k.A. Bijougirl) about jewelry, inspiration and life in a family of five.Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15319118676551069391noreply@blogger.comBlogger885125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-44875904930784081752016-07-08T14:43:00.001-05:002016-07-08T17:25:44.664-05:00Please see color right now.I am white. I was raised to believe that there was no difference between white people and black people. I thought that we shouldn't see color. I tried not to see color. But it isn't possible. We need to stop saying that we don't see color, white people. Because our mouths might say that but our actions do NOT say that. This week we have seen the fatal shootings of two black men, Alton Sterling and Philando Castille. <div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6kC8tJ9IR9OIJoEZ9e3rSNEQjmlGX0mmAJqzhRqlLleCmKuQp7ShaoqgQdpQUdHyUOJp-IzNxvui4NSYY9au3twiAeTxIs8FfHri3y6YViDpEHWn2wEP9Dy0mGZHTN6X0qkfZ7BBaZRVx/s640/blogger-image--959287925.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6kC8tJ9IR9OIJoEZ9e3rSNEQjmlGX0mmAJqzhRqlLleCmKuQp7ShaoqgQdpQUdHyUOJp-IzNxvui4NSYY9au3twiAeTxIs8FfHri3y6YViDpEHWn2wEP9Dy0mGZHTN6X0qkfZ7BBaZRVx/s640/blogger-image--959287925.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwuJOrtJgbXl8wzTlWszaJOiSsOKTK2aZbFUUaqJLzwyyhAQSQ8GNF37bFTCjJrO7QWs30nJPl9xpUPDn2z4CuAIU6TBeDjR7U1c4mTNhwYMMILYhDnTh-fe6ZMUS6TqH3WAItg3EognHx/s640/blogger-image--1898755089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwuJOrtJgbXl8wzTlWszaJOiSsOKTK2aZbFUUaqJLzwyyhAQSQ8GNF37bFTCjJrO7QWs30nJPl9xpUPDn2z4CuAIU6TBeDjR7U1c4mTNhwYMMILYhDnTh-fe6ZMUS6TqH3WAItg3EognHx/s640/blogger-image--1898755089.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>The country is in an uproar and it is too late to stand up for injustice toward them and COUNTLESS others just like them. But it isn't too late to stand up for other black people who are still alive and living in confusion and fear. <div>When I say "Black lives matter" I don't mean that anyone's life DOESN'T matter. Just as when I say that I hate cancer, I don't mean that I love all the other diseases instead. Or better yet, when I was grieving about having breast cancer, if I had said to you "I hate breast cancer." And you said to me,"well, lots of people have cancer and I hate cancer." I would have been hurt by your callousness because instead of looking at me as an individual and seeing my specific hurt, your statement would have been dismissing me and lumping me in with a crowd. </div><div>I get it. It's a protective maneuver in some ways. Acknowledge so much hurt as a general whole, feel helpless about it and so say "Oh well, there is nothing I can do. It's too big for me." <div>But when I had cancer, I needed people to look me in my eyes and cry with me and say "I hate YOUR KIND OF CANCER. BREAST CANCER. I hate THAT KIND for YOU. Specifically FOR YOU."</div><div>People, there is a SPECIFIC group of people hurting, grieving, angry, confused, and afraid. </div><div>We need to be telling those SPECIFIC people that their lives matter. Don't lump their lives into other groups of lives. We all get it. Lives matter. Right now though, BLACK lives matter. </div><div>If your son or daughter was bullied and felt like their life didn't matter, would you tell them to quit whining because if you are alive, bully or bullied, your life matters? Even if you are a mediocre parent, I would wager to bet that NO YOU WOULD NOT! You would tell them, "<i>YOU</i> matter! YOU MATTER TO ME! I see your hurt and I'm telling you that if anything happened to you, it would hurt me DEEPLY. <i>YOU MATTER</i>.</div><div>Friends, let's look at our black brothers and sisters. Not lumped into a people group with no color, but let's see them for who they are. Hurt people who have beautiful dark skin, and have the same souls as anyone else. We all know that. But let's say it. Let's do MORE than that. </div><div>Let's speak up and try to change the minds of those who stick their heads in the sand so they won't have to feel.</div><div>Let's stand up and say "This is WRONG."</div><div>Let's pick up our phones and call those who represent us and beg them to take this issue seriously in our government. (Visit Openstate.org to find your representatives.)</div><div>Let's get out of our safe zones and hug someone who might personally feel this hurt. </div><div>Let's look at individuals who are black, in the eyes, and tell them that we love them and that we are sorry. That we are sorry for not doing it sooner. For not seeing their color. For not recognizing their pain and their fear. For not walking with them through it. </div><div>I just can't watch this any longer without speaking up. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Also, about Dallas, I am so so sad. I don't want to dismiss it at all. I am sad for the police officers who were injured and killed and for their families. That shouldn't have happened. There is nothing to say that can brighten the darkness of this week in America. And personally I think we need to sit in this darkness and think about the state of our hearts before we open our eyes again. And when we do, let's target our love towards our black brothers and sisters. Let's target our love towards our black police men and women - who are feeling DOUBLE the hurt. Let's target our love towards the people in the police force who take their vows seriously to serve and protect the lives in their community. </div><div><br></div><div>Don't make excuses.</div><div>Don't place blame if you are not willing to place it on yourself. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Do make a stand.</div><div>Do make a call.</div><div>Do teach your children.</div><div>Do pray and pray and pray. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>To my black friends and my black nephew: God sees your color. He saw it when He made you and he made you in His image. And He looked at you and loved you and said OUT LOUD that his beautiful creation was "VERY good."</div></div></div>Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-3469238297573646752016-05-25T08:08:00.001-05:002016-05-25T08:08:16.987-05:00Feelings...nothing more than feelings... I haven't been able to sleep much. Deadlines have a way of doing that to me. And <i>this</i> deadline comes with all of the feelings. All of them.<br />
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I am so excited to move across the country. I've never lived anywhere but here; almost four DECADES of living in ONE town. And my <i>excitement</i> of doing something new - a new journey that isn't sickness(!!) - has been keeping me going. <i>That</i> is what is cleaning out the garage. That is what is getting rid of three quarters of my stuff so that the other fourth will fit on the truck. That is what tapes box after box and fills each one up. That is what has peeled my eyelids back when I hear "Mom!!!" every morning and I know there is no "Dad!" for three whole months to take over when I am weary.<br />
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There is so much good happening, I can't even fully believe it. Like, ME? I never asked "why me" when I got cancer because I always thought that if it has to be <i>someone</i>, why NOT me. But now all this goodness - a job that my husband LOVES, a rental house on the water that is truly braggable, a city that seems right up my ally, kids that are willing and excited - is making me wonder "why me?" Well, why NOT me?!</div>
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As I get nearer to the finish line, though, I am allowing myself brief moments to reflect on this place and these people. I can't do it for long because once the dam breaks it will gush for <span style="font-size: large;"><i>hours</i></span> and I'm not ready for that yet.</div>
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This <i>place</i> could be any place. Don't get me wrong, I love my city. It is a lovable city. I'm food spoiled. I'm music spoiled. I'm beauty spoiled. But the PEOPLE.<span style="font-size: large;"> <i>MY</i> people.</span> That is what makes this hurt so bad. </div>
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You, friends. You, family. I love you. You cannot be replaced. When I only had one child, I often wondered if I had room in me to love two. Now that I have four, I know that you don't run out of room for love. It grows and grows and you DON'T LOSE ANYBODY in all that love. It seems like someone might get covered over; buried in other loves for people who aren't them. But it doesn't happen. Each one of you, whom I love, is <i>permanent</i>. Etched. You have changed me and taken a piece of me. And I have a matching piece of you.</div>
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So, this morning, my sadness of missing you is tempered by just thought of you. <span style="font-size: large;">I think of you, my loved ones, all of the time. </span>I think about your individual qualities - your laugh, your smile, your wise advice, your enveloping hug, your constant "thereness," your silly stories, your fun perspective, your grounding presence, your encouraging word- and those thoughts of you keep the sadness at bay (for now.)<br />
...Because I know that I have hit the JACKPOT on people who love me back. There are times I wonder "why me?" But I'm really glad to be able to say <span style="font-size: large;">"why NOT me?"</span><br />
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-18708142187194323662016-03-06T12:28:00.000-06:002016-03-06T13:11:20.890-06:00Why, as a Christian, I am voting for Bernie Sanders<div>
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I have been asked to give a defense of myself because of my political opinions. I have been accused of being too sensitive to critique, being afraid of judgement, for associating with sinners, for grumbling, for being ungrateful, for not having the worldview of a Christian and of building my identity based on what others think of me.<br />
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None of these things will I defend, because you can't verbally prove that your character isn't what a person who wants to assassinate your character, claims it is. The only way to prove that, is to live. And while I am not a perfect person, I do believe that my actions have lined up with who I say I am - a person who follows the teachings of Jesus Christ. And I am fully prepared to stand in front of HIS judgment seat and give a full account. Because I know that to the things I have done wrong, he will say "I have paid for this already with my own body and my own blood," and the rest - the things I have done right - <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> will hear: "well done, good and faithful servant."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">So, moving on from defending myself in that way, I will tell you what I see in Bernie Sanders that makes me see Jesus.</span></div>
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I keep hearing about "a socialist utopia." I am not championing that at all. And neither is Senator Sanders. Let us just tear that phrase apart to analyze it for a minute. Sanders is not proposing a "socialist" <i>government</i> at all. That word is pretty sticky - which is why it has been thrown at him and has stuck. While he does advocate expanding some social programs (and in that sense he can certainly be described as socialistic,) he DOES NOT want to tear down our democracy! People are afraid, because we have seen in history how a socialistic government has turned into a dictatorship and led to "state capitalism" rather than capitalism for the people. </div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">However, in our country, a form of this "state capitalism" is already occurring, only it isn't the state, per say, it is the large corporations, Wall Street, and the Fed that are "pooling their resources" to create, not a democracy of the people, but in essence, an oligarchy. It is an unbalanced system that takes away freedoms of the masses and puts money in control of just the few.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Sanders simply wants to allocate our money in a way that does the MOST for the MOST. He is not going to steal your money and go buy a bunch of people trips to Disney World and vacation yachts. But I believe that he <i>does</i> want to make sure that people who have enough power to be able hide their funds in off shore accounts and tax shelters to avoid paying taxes, will be held to account. He wants to hold Wall Street to account. He wants to hold the Fed to account. He wants to put the power back in the hands of the people by making sure that people who don't have healthcare can get taken care of and so that people who don't have access to education, can be educated. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I have experience in the healthcare issue, because I would be dead right now if it were not for the United States government. Let me restate that: I would be DEAD. Lucky for me, the government footed the entire bill for my breast cancer. If they had not, I would not have even begun to be able to afford my care. I am blessed that in Tennessee, if a woman gets breast or ovarian cancer, she can qualify for government aid. I spent some time feeling SO grateful that I had breast cancer instead of brain cancer. Or lung cancer. Or uterine cancer. Or any other awful disease that required hundreds of thousands of dollars to treat. My heart bleeds for those who have to go down that road, feeling as if <i>their life isn't worthy enough to their country</i>, to save. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Will Bernie's system work? I have no idea. There is so much evil everywhere, that even the most honorable intentions can be bent. But I believe that it is better to risk things because of love and the right thing to do, rather than hold to a system that is known to be wrong and unfair just because we have gotten comfortable there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Next, let's look at the word "utopia." As a Christian, I do believe that utopia will happen, but only when Christ comes back to rule; because I have not ever seen a politician or a religious leader nor anyone else that has a perfect system. There is NOT a perfect system on earth. BUT that does NOT mean that we can just close our eyes, bury our money and possessions under our feet and continue to claim that since we worked hard, what we got, we get to keep, even IF there are people in need. I mean, it is the needy's own fault right? And we did everything right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">This brings me back to who Christ is and what he says. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">"If anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, let him have your coat also. Whoever forces you to go one mile, go with him two.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Give to him who asks you and do not turn away from him who wants to borrow from you..... For He causes His sun to rise on the evil AND the good, and send rain on the righteous and the unrighteousness." Matthew 5:40-45</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> One of the arguments that I have heard from Christians is that they don't want to be forced to give. They would like to allocate their money where they think it will do the most good. I completely understand that. One hundred percent. When I earn money and want to help someone with it, I want to know that it is doing what I intended. I also have skin in the game. However, Jesus doesn't say that here. In fact, he says quite the opposite. If you go on in this passage, he says "when you give to poor, do not sound a trumpet before you.....but when you give, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing." (Matt. 6:2,3)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">For many years, I thought this just meant not to brag about your generosity. And I am sure that this is part of it. However, like most of His words, they go much deeper than that. I believe he saying that we can't control our giving based on what we think and our own judgments. We give with one hand - and it isn't for our other hand to decide what is done with the gift once it has left our hands. At that point, God is in control. <i>Give when you want, give when you don't want, give when you are forced.</i> And don't try to control it. It is <i>up to God,</i> simple as that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I want to look at just one more passage. This is the story that Jesus tells to explain the kingdom of heaven. But, like all of His stories, there are so many layers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">It begins with a land owner searching for workers to hire. He finds a few in the morning and offers them a day's wages. They agree and set to work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Mid morning, he finds that he needs more workers, so he rounds up some more who are willing and they also agree to work for a day's wage. This happens again later in the day, and then even later in the day, still. All are offered the same wage regardless of how long they worked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">At the end of the work day when the wages are given, the workers who had been there longer, grumble and complain because they feel that the others should be owed less since they didn't work as long.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">The field owner says, "Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for a day's wages?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Take what is yours and go, but I wish to give this last man the same as you."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Now, this story is given to explain that you can live "righteously" your entire life or you can live "in sin" your entire life, but the moment you decide you want to identify with the person who paid for you - then you are paid for. That is IT. No one gets a better reward or gets into a more heavenly kingdom. <i>We are all on the same playing field</i> when it comes to the Creator and Redeemer of the Universe.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">How does this apply to Bernie Sanders you ask? Simply this: the grumbling that I have heard coming from people who claim Jesus as their own about giving up money that they work hard for and earned (which, I am sure is true!) has been truly concerning to me. If we believe that God gave us money because we worked hard, how can we <i>not </i>trust him to give us enough when we have to give what we earned away?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Let me be clear in saying that I do NOT believe that Bernie Sanders wants to take away all of our hard earned money. But using many people's argument that they earned and so should keep - and then basing that on Jesus - is quite as offensive to me as the thought that you may have about losing your wealth.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I have also been accused of aiding the murder of babies. I don't really want to get into a discussion of abortion, as my friends and family ALL know that I hold life in the HIGHEST of regard. I have said it and said it and said it. I am pro- life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">When it comes to choosing a politician who supports life, I have to acknowledge that there is death all around. And there is lack of support of life ALL AROUND. Therefore, with careful consideration, I have, at this point and for these next four years, chosen to throw my hat in the ring with someone who does not see eye to eye with me on the life of an unborn child. This does make me sad in that I have first hand experience with life growing in my body - several times over. I have seen perfectly formed humans the size of my thumb. I believe that once those cells begin dividing, it is something other than what it was - <i>life,</i> right from the start. Just as I know that, oppositely, when unhealthy cells start dividing it is cancer right from the start. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">But I also know that there are people who are alive and walking around and breathing air and taking care of families who have had politicians swear that they will kill them because their family members may attack us. I have heard politicians promise to torture human beings. I have heard politicians, in their desire to make sure we are comfy, deny the rights of immigration to a place that may have better opportunities. They are denying the rights of people to be treated for deathly illnesses. They are marginalizing the rights and equality of those who don't fit their chosen demographic. And I feel that it is time to choose to stand up for these other groups of people who <i>also</i> do not have a voice. I wish that we could stand up for all life, all at once. But these are the days and hands we have been dealt. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I feel as though I could go on, but I will step off the stage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">This all comes down to one thing. My conscience is clear. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I have done my research.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">You do yours.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I will not question anyone's character for the way you wish to vote this election season. The season is volatile and lends itself to passionate discourse. And I do hope that it doesn't create enemies as times like this are wont to do. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I am also asking that you would refrain from negative comments about me or anyone else personally if you feel the need to challenge. I may not answer you back because I have said what I need to say and I am not up for a debate. But as I have said, you may hold a different opinion than mine, and I am fine with that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">We all do what we can. And we are even in the eyes of God because he already evened the field for each one of us.</span></div>
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Thank you for reading with an open mind and heart.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><i>"Render the things that are Caesar's to Caesar and render the things that are God's to God."</i> ~Jesus Christ, Matthew 21:22</span></div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-67861026124785063872015-04-13T12:21:00.004-05:002015-04-13T12:32:38.228-05:00Finishing Fever<div>
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I think that this must happen every school year. We always set good intentions for "finishing strong," but what if finishing strong doesn't mean what I think it means? What if it means just <i>"finishing after a long time of doing something and now we are not going to do it anymore because we have done enough"?</i><br />
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In August we all rose at a decent hour to get breakfast on the table. We started our school work in a religious, timely, SCHEDULED manner. We had every intention of working through entire workbooks and of learning everything there is to know about each subject we had chosen for the year.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">{So neat.}</span></div>
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Looking back, I admire us. I also shake my head and click my tongue and think "<i>bless their hearts. Such good intentions."</i><br />
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I have spent the months after wrangling everything back on schedule, fretting about the slowness of our "workbook-working" and agonizing over the responsibility of getting them through this year with more developed brains and habits.<br />
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Our early morning breakfasts are now creeping towards "brunch." The kid's reasonable bedtimes are inching into the VERY dark hours. A few subjects have been literally lost for weeks (I mean - where is that workbook? And HOW much did you say those library fines were?)</div>
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We are sliding into home base with mud on our pants and we also may have skipped third.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">{Neat? At least it is in a basket.}</span></div>
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And NOW spring has sprung. The "finishing" urgency is still stalking my brain - but I can't hear it because <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;">FLOWERS! SUNSHINE! SPRING SHOWERS! CAMPING!</span><br />
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My fingers are in my teacher brain's ears and I'm singing "lalalalalalala!" As loud as I can.</div>
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Who cares if a chapter or ... four chapters go undone? I'm sure we will review next year. </div>
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Actually, I am becoming increasingly confident that if I teach my kids about Google, then we can just quit school all together. (I'm kidding, Mom.)</div>
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So my point is: we ARE finishing strong. We are strong in vitamin D. We are strong in friendships. We are strong in loving each other. And we actually HAVE learned some stuff. Really great smart-people stuff.</div>
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And when school is over in May, we will be able to say that <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">we didn't waste the glorious Spring that God provided.</span></div>
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So now I just have to convince my other loudmouth minds that this is the new "finishing strong."</div>
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I think I can do it.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">......Lalalalalalalalalalalala......</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"He has made everything beautiful in it's time..." </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Ecclesiastes 4:8</span></div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-62887640661540742452015-04-08T10:04:00.003-05:002015-04-08T10:04:58.797-05:00The Diary of the Evolution of a Miniature Silver Leaf<div style="text-align: center;">
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I make tiny silver foliage a lot. And I thought that it might be nice to show you how <span style="font-size: large;">many</span> steps it takes to create one of these dainty little leaves.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhclDnupQpHYP5aIFmmxXcGQ_qlfQCdAv7TzEDw5Q0Aum_y_tA3Yfl5bRIM6mozzRt1XAZe7gUBpRhg62-72G6pJZBXNSXyj8GhaGUfABRcNtFDrtXPkaRzIvmAHiPQAfT1SJIYqDImUx_4/s640/blogger-image-998988656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhclDnupQpHYP5aIFmmxXcGQ_qlfQCdAv7TzEDw5Q0Aum_y_tA3Yfl5bRIM6mozzRt1XAZe7gUBpRhg62-72G6pJZBXNSXyj8GhaGUfABRcNtFDrtXPkaRzIvmAHiPQAfT1SJIYqDImUx_4/s640/blogger-image-998988656.jpg" width="462" /></a></div>
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Most of my smaller leaves start out as round wire. I hammer it flat and saw out the leaf from the flattened wire. I prefer this method over cutting the leaf out of flat sheet silver because the hammered wire is not the exact same thickness all the way across. The varied thickness tends to give the finished leaf a more realistic and organic look.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2aDVbIXxKosbCVFoUpaNdGLhhyB33Zwgi7SKHWHoJKFOF9Sb9OeWfYbAZaMhlhoOpCBfmN-Kf-i6Ae0Sq54-oB6mu2BIKSNxOAK5dkz-QZE779L5TvjAblSDiI_MpDk3AGdiDKAdgI-Zb/s640/blogger-image-1478388514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2aDVbIXxKosbCVFoUpaNdGLhhyB33Zwgi7SKHWHoJKFOF9Sb9OeWfYbAZaMhlhoOpCBfmN-Kf-i6Ae0Sq54-oB6mu2BIKSNxOAK5dkz-QZE779L5TvjAblSDiI_MpDk3AGdiDKAdgI-Zb/s640/blogger-image-1478388514.jpg" width="510" /></a></div>
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The next step is to file the shape. I use a sanding disc on the flex shaft to refine, and after that, a small hand file to refine it a bit more and round off the edges. Final sanding comes later.</div>
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After the shape is perfected, it is time to chase in the veins. I made a mark-making tool, by filing and rounding an old steel screwdriver. I use this to hammer the lines.</div>
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Now it looks like a leaf! But it still isn't finished. If I am going to solder it on a ring (these tiny ones usually go on rings,) I want to curve the leaf slightly so that it hugs the ring band. I use this dapping block (below) to accomplish that.</div>
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Then I solder it onto the ring.</div>
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After pickling (an acidic solution that removes flux scale and oxidation,)</div>
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it is ready to patina, sand and polish!</div>
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Done!</div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-23691020568992161632015-03-26T11:48:00.000-05:002015-03-26T11:48:50.966-05:00Open eyes<div style="text-align: center;">
Ok. I admit it. Sometimes I don't want to be thankful. I don't what to do what is good for me and I don't want to do what's right.</div>
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I want to keep my frowny face on. It doesn't feel good, but it does. </div>
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Why?</div>
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It is the pull. The drowning is sometimes easier. </div>
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Until I kick just a bit. And rise to the surface.</div>
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And breathe.</div>
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And look around me.</div>
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Acknowledge the grace.</div>
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Then I feel better. So many riches.</div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-36322642427450157152015-02-25T14:25:00.000-06:002015-02-25T14:34:33.629-06:00Where are the scissors?"I want to do work!" She demands.<br />
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"I <i>don't </i>want to do <i>this</i>." He mumbles.</div>
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"You took my pencil!" Accuses the older one.</div>
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And I, I am <strike>yelling </strike>loudly saying over all the rest of the noise, "Where are the scissors? We can't do this without scissors!" </div>
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"I'm still hungry!"</div>
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"That's mine!"</div>
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"Do we have to listen to you <i>reeead</i> today?"</div>
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"Can we go outside?"</div>
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The workbook cover is falling off. We shove our dirty breakfast bowls to the side and don't mind the dollops of sticky oatmeal that are coving the table as we place our precious schoolwork right on top of them. </div>
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I am sipping my tea in between quotes of directions from right off their page <i>where they could read it themselves</i>, and <strike>helping</strike> doing the preschool work myself.<br />
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Homeschool isn't pretty.<br />
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It can be amazing. Beautiful even. But never pretty. In fact it is downright messy.</div>
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There are those mornings when I think "<i>everyone else is making this happen and here I am standing on onion skins that fell on the floor last night, stirring oatmeal in a pot that is too small while behind me a little hand keeps reaching up to steal the pieces of fruit (</i>that I have laboriously chopped for everyone's hot cereal.) <i>And I wish I was still in bed breathing in my own carbon dioxide with my head fixed tightly beneath the covers</i>."<br />
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But honestly, I think if I weren't homeschooling, I would find life messy too. It just <i>is</i>. Even the most organized among us, in their most truthful moments will recognize that when you are <span style="font-size: large;">living</span>, you don't always have time to make it pretty. And the messy can be oh, so <span style="font-size: large;">beautiful</span> and perfectly <i>right</i> and <i>alright</i>. <span style="font-size: x-large;">Right?</span></div>
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It is beautiful because they wanted to help make the dinner, and slice the onions and garlic and slowly sauté it until the caramel color rose around the edges.<br />
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They are learning how to wash the dishes. They are still dirty sometimes. But they persevere.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">One wanted to learn how to carve with his pocket knife, and when he got his first finger cut, he held a brave face and announced that he knew what he did wrong and that he would do it differently next time.</span><br />
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She is learning to cut on the lines. She walks off with the scissors, but when I look down at her work amidst tiny pieces of white paper that are scattered and strewn from the bench to her room, I find a perfectly cut square fit right into place with glue.<br />
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He's been learning to manage his time. It's <i>hard</i> - even for an adult to learn. And he has had to pay the consequences. But<span style="font-size: large;"> then</span> he spends his <i>precious</i> spare time finally crafting the perfect thing that will satisfy the demands.<br />
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And Little Boy, who has struggled so much to make the letters line up for him the way they do for everyone else, is quietly and persistently plugging through a book that has <i>lots</i> of words. And big ones, too. He doesn't always want to continue, but then he comes to that part that makes him chuckle, or to the thing that makes him turn sad brown eyes to me and ask why that had to be. He is becoming emotionally invested.<br />
And it has been a messy ride.<br />
But <span style="font-size: large;">these things</span>, are <span style="font-size: x-large;">beautiful.</span></div>
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So, I am saying to myself as we work in our routine, "Don't focus on the <i>temporal</i>. <span style="font-size: large;">Keep your eyes on the eternal.</span>"<br />
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Winter is just a season. And the time that I school these chaotic kids will flash by like a twinkle in a star; but <span style="font-size: large;">where I direct their hearts</span>, like an arrow aimed on a bowstring, is <span style="font-size: large;"><i>what will last. </i></span></div>
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It doesn't need to be pretty.<br />
But it is definitely going to be <span style="font-size: x-large;">amazingly beautiful.</span><br />
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-36088715546526277952014-12-22T14:05:00.002-06:002014-12-22T14:06:49.684-06:00Finding ChristmasI have moved houses and somewhere in the changing and the endings and the beginnings, I seem to have forgotten how to relax.<br />
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Resting.</div>
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It is a constant struggle for me. My mind likes to go, go, go. My body feels it needs to follow - if I am able.</div>
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With as much as I know that this performing doesn't fulfill me, still I try to make something out of everything. I work and work - to make sure the kids know everything I have listed out for them to know, to create revenue for the family, to turn Christmas into a THING, making positive that everyone has enough from myself - who many times thinks she may be able to create more than she is.</div>
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I am sitting here on the couch alone, pondering why I do this to myself. And I am meditating on the words in my advent book*: <br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Christmas can only be <i>found.</i> Christmas cannot be bought. Christmas cannot be created. Christmas cannot be made by hand, lit up, set out, dreamed up. Christmas can only be found... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> That is the message of Christmas. The message of Christmas is not that we can make peace. Or that we can make love, make light, make gifts, or make this world save itself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The message of Christmas is that this world's a mess and we can never save ourselves from ourselves and we need a Messiah.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For unto us a child is born.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...True, you cannot light Christmas, because it is <i>Christmas that lights you</i>."</span></div>
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As I attempt to rest and reflect today, I am hoping to let the "musts" go, and sit still enough that I might find Christmas. Or better yet, <i><b>that Christmas will find me.</b></i></div>
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And I wish the same for you all. May you find <i>rest</i> in the certainty that Jesus Christ has provided everything that you ever have needed and ever will need. Merry Christmas!</div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">On those living in a pitch dark land, a light has dawned.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">A child is born to us, a son is given to us,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And authority will be on His shoulders.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He will be named Wonderful Counselor,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Mighty God,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Eternal Father,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Prince of Peace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">~Isaiah 9: 2, 6</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*book passage from <u>The Greatest Gift</u> by Ann Voskamp</span></div>
Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-1519482681187329492014-11-17T13:38:00.002-06:002014-11-17T13:38:37.126-06:00ProvisionI was pining for a snow day today. Not the one we got, with a threadbare sheet's depth of flakes scattered here and there and the city's school buses still functional on the ever gripping roads, but a <i>no-school</i> day. I wanted a "<i>the car won't even start</i>" day. A "<i>there is so much snow that cold crystals floated down the chimney and into the room</i>" day.<br />
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You are probably thinking "But, don't you HOMEschool?"</div>
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Yes. Yes I do. But I follow the metro school schedule because, 1.) my oldest is still in traditional school, and 2.) because their days off give me permission to take a day off. And that feels nice. My personality needs permission sometimes.</div>
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Today, I thought that God should have provided me with a day off. I'm tired. It's cloudy. I worked this weekend and haven't had much downtime lately.</div>
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But he didn't. Not in the sense my soul demanded.</div>
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Which got me thinking some more about His provision in general. I have been chewing on this for a long time.</div>
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The first thing the snake said to Eve in the Garden of Eden was "<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Did God really say not to eat of <span style="font-size: large;">ANY tree</span> in the garden?</i></span>"</div>
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He preyed on her fear that God would not provide for her.</div>
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It's a fear that I think is common. At least it is a fear that has often haunted me.</div>
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There have been so many times when I felt like I didn't have enough.<br />
Never enough money, never enough energy, never enough time, patience, peace, security, sleep...</div>
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I could go on and on. </div>
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But when I step back to see if these feelings really reflect the <b>truth</b>, I can see that <span style="font-size: large;">the feelings are only fears of the future or regrets of the past </span>- and they are not the reality at all.</div>
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The truth is that God has has always provided everything that I have needed. I have been poor, but always had enough food. I have been tired, but have always made it to the end of the day. I have been sick but I have always continued to live. I have been grieved but have always re-found joy. I have been at my wit's end and then discovered that <span style="font-size: large;">it wasn't the end at all</span>. <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Sometimes the end of me is just the very very beginning of God.</span> And I go on.</div>
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I have begun asking myself "Right NOW, am I ok?"</div>
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Almost always, the answer is "yes."</div>
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<i>This moment </i>is where God is present. Along with all of His provision. It blows my mind - because it is never what was <i>on</i> my mind. But it is real. <span style="font-size: large;">Real-er than.</span> Providing what I need most each moment.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>THIS moment.</i></span></div>
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So today, we are doing school. And I am trusting that it will be good timing despite my insufficient funds in vigor. The kids are happy. I am grateful for the blessings around me regardless of my exhaustion. The learning, laughing, eating, discovering, playing and loving (and perhaps a bit of bickering and complaining in the mix.)</div>
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<i>In this moment I am abundantly provided for.</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Look at the birds in the sky. They don’t sow seed or harvest grain or gather crops into barns. Yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you worth much more than they are?" ~Matthew 6:26 </i></span></div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-17830849284182824232014-11-03T12:53:00.005-06:002014-11-03T12:56:22.028-06:00Women RockThere is more to healing than just the physical.<br />
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I have had so many wonderful empathetic ears that I had no idea how healing <i>sympathetic</i> ears could be also.</div>
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Picture walking into a 60 degree lodge full of women who are willing to freeze half the time just to get relief from the either occasional or frequent flashes of blazing fire in their bodies from chemical or surgical menopause. </div>
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This is where I have been for four days this past weekend: a young breast cancer survivor's retreat with<span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="http://womenrockforthecure.org/" target="_blank">Women Rock for the Cure</a>.</span></div>
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The retreat staff wheeled in our belongings for the weekend for us. But we were all carrying unseen luggage as well. Many of us had been carrying it all alone for too long of a time.</div>
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Laughing</div>
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Crying</div>
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Identifying</div>
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Celebrating each woman - all shapes, temperaments, personalities, colors, interests - but ALL living, with still beautiful bodies and even more beautiful souls.<br />
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It wasn't like a band aid that just makes you feel a little better about the deep and painful gash because you can't see it anymore and you know it is somewhat protected from the elements.</div>
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No, it was a vitamin that enters deep into your body and strengthens everything to promote miraculous, true healing.</div>
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We NEED each other.</div>
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Hearing - "no, I totally get it."</div>
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"Yes, me too"</div>
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"I'm afraid as well"</div>
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"Uh huh"</div>
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"Exactly!" -</div>
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Makes a person who didn't know they felt alone, <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">really feel NOT ALONE.</span></span></div>
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If only I could verbalized the weight of the impact of a group of women who are all so unique, but each one with a body that tried to kill them - IS trying to kill them - and celebrating that it hasn't worked yet. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">In this moment - we are alive. </span></div>
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Joyous.</div>
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Celebration. Of <i>living</i>.</div>
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Because only when we recognize the importance of living - the amazing-ness of it - can our souls begin to find healing.</div>
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If we don't know that we need it, we might not find it.</div>
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And sometimes it takes looking outside of ourselves. We look outside ourselves and <span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">it finds us.</span></span></div>
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<b><i>Identifying.</i></b></div>
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"<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.</span></i>"</div>
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~King Solomon</div>
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"<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In this world, you WILL have trouble. But take heart - I have overcome the world.</span></i>"</div>
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~Jesus of Nazereth </div>
Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-63004063793546048322014-10-29T09:34:00.000-05:002014-10-29T09:35:17.561-05:00Lazy and it's OKThis is the kind of day where no one wants to get out of bed (except the youngest - who is whiney and sick and won't go BACK to bed.)<br />
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It is a chilly morning and the kids are struggling to put their brains on (and their clothes on - they are wrapped in toga-like blankets) and I for one, would like to just wear my pajamas all day (which I do occasionally.)<br />
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I <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">don't often have days like this where I tell myself "It's ok. Everyone has days like this."</span></div>
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But today, I somehow - miraculous beyond all belief - have the presence of mind to give myself and my family permission.<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">It's </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">ok. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Everyone has days like this.</span></i></span></div>
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It is an extra cup of tea day.</div>
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A pulling away from the "important things-that-must-be-done" day.</div>
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A finding time instead to read <i>A Road To Oz</i> and laugh at the clever witticisms of Mr. Baum.</div>
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It is a couch visiting day.</div>
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One where you tuck the favorite cuddling blanket around your legs and watch a mind numbing show - just because your mind needs to rest. And your body needs to slow.<br />
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All of the important learning things, cleaning things, working things will be there tomorrow. But by then, we'll feel like doing them. With joy.</div>
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Because we <i>rested.</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And it's ok.</span></div>
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Better than ok.</div>
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It's <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>GOOD.</i></span></div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-82040104973473431072014-10-20T17:47:00.002-05:002014-10-20T17:49:20.926-05:00Tiny stepsI feel like I am getting nothing done;<br />
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Half finished projects,<br />
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Half finished books,</div>
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Lists and lists hastily scratched.</div>
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I can't go on because the laundry needs to be done,</div>
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The dishes washed,</div>
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Food cooked for hungry mouths.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Until one day,</span></b></div>
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A rare day,</div>
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It all comes together.</div>
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All of the prep work,</div>
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The rest days,</div>
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The portions of things done in ten spare minutes -</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">All ends up <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">MATTERING</span>,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That day that it all comes together.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Kind of like a punch line that isn't funny until you sit through the whole set<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">-</span>up of the joke. All that work that <i>feels</i> arbitrary,<span style="font-size: large;"> isn't.</span></span></div>
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The food turns into meal. </div>
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<i>Little by little.</i></div>
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The projects begin to make sense.</div>
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<i>Little by little.</i></div>
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Knowledge gets retained.</div>
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<i>Little by little.</i></div>
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The child turns into a man.</div>
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<i>Little by little.</i></div>
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Faith is built and grown...</div>
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Into something solid.</div>
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<i>Little by little.</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">All the history. All the words. All the lives. Eventually lead to one great moment that makes it <span style="font-size: large;">worth it.</span></span></div>
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<i>Thank YOU, GOD.</i></div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-1168732641304890792014-09-29T10:29:00.005-05:002014-09-29T10:31:10.371-05:00finding homesThings are beginning to find their places.<br />
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Perhaps we have now passed the halfway mark of our things that now have a home in our house. It's not perfect.<br />
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The things belong...</div>
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But not always prettily. I have no time for fancy organization. I used to desire it. Crave it. NEED it. Magazine structure. Chaos free.<br />
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I can still find myself, even now, <i>wanting</i> that for my space and my life.</div>
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But there is so much beauty in just belonging. The cutting board just FITS. The tea is haphazard but I know WHERE IT IS.</div>
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It is a satisfaction like family.</div>
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No family is perfect.</div>
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But we BELONG. Somewhere.</div>
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Even the lost have homes that they haven't found ... <i>Yet.</i></div>
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But they are there.</div>
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Waiting.</div>
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It may not be exactly like what you envision.</div>
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But it is home.</div>
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For now.</div>
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Whetting our appetite </div>
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For a more perfect later.</div>
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But just enjoying the NOW.</div>
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And being THANKFUL.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">God settles the solitary in a home</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Psalm 68:6</span></span></div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-67058762632639731172014-09-18T16:37:00.001-05:002014-09-18T16:43:13.181-05:00PersevereThere are days when I seem to just chant this one little word over and over and over in my brain, hoping it will translate to my heart and soul.<br />
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You don't have to be going through anything especially traumatic to feel the struggle to persevere. It is just <i>life.</i><br />
Everyday life.</div>
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Of course, heaven knows I am not discounting those trials when it is hard to even imagine putting one foot in front of the other through sloggy time and piled up earth. We need an extra dose of endurance then, for sure.</div>
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But what about just every. single. day? We get out of bed, determined - or not - to put on a positive thought, <i>but our legs are tired.</i><br />
Our brains are fried.<br />
We have people to feed.<br />
We have to go to the same job.<br />
We are in charge of something and <b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">responsible</span>.</b><br />
We keep peeling wallpaper but there is more under there!</div>
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How do we persevere then? EVERY DAY? Our whole lives?</div>
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This world is hard. My brain gets messed up about what is<span style="font-size: large;"> important</span>, pretty much several times per rotation of the planet. The labor that it takes to make things happen is ... <span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">LABORious. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Isn't it?</span></div>
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I know this about you. And you know it about me. Let's just look at things real.</div>
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I'm not always happy to begin the day cooking and reading to and directing and goading children and ... <i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">oh my gosh! I'm in charge of human beings!!!</span></i></div>
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This is how I keep doing it. Over and over. Trudging and plowing. Little by little.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Knowing that God is God.</span></span></div>
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I'm not in charge of<i> that</i> - thank God.</div>
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And then I can <span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">stop.</span><br />
Get quiet in my soul.<br />
Look around with fresh, unconcerned eyes because <i>God is God</i>.<br />
And from that one thought I can be<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"> thankful.</span><br />
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And I can feel <i>freedom</i> to not be God. I can just do what I can do and leave the rest up to Him.</div>
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Thankfully. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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Minute by minute. </div>
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<i>Persevering.</i><br />
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How do you persevere? </div>
Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-41173762489326519392014-09-10T20:05:00.002-05:002014-09-10T20:16:39.991-05:00After<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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The kids and I went for a walk the other day after it had rained really hard. My son commented on how he didn't really like the air because it felt thick with water. He noticed the earthy smell that the rain brings with it, the wet ground and the vivid colors of the foliage - some of the plants excited to be alive and some beaten down by the past torrent.</div>
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I told him that I enjoyed the rain and also after the rain. It was exciting. Different. It provides for life, but at the same time it could ruin things. What a paradox a storm can bring.</div>
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I have been trying to figure out what my life looks like after the storm of cancer. It isn't the same as is was and it is not the same as it has been. My ground is soaked with so much rain. Some of my flowers have bloomed from nourishment. But I have leaves and branches that have broken, fallen away. Been beaten down, down, down.</div>
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Who am I now? </div>
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I set aside so many everyday worries and burdens when there was the big WORRY. Now I have seemed to pick them up again thinking I<i> should</i> be able to carry them if I was able to get through almost two years of battling something big. </div>
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Why do I do that?</div>
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How many burdens are ok to carry? Can I just be free? Is it ok to be free from worries?</div>
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And is it ok to be different? To allow cancer to be part of who am but not let it define me completely? </div>
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Maybe it is just too fresh. I will be on medication for the next ten years. It hasn't even been a year since my hysterectomy - and it changed me. It changed the way I feel. It changed my moods. It changed my sleeping habits.</div>
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I am happy to be almost past these two years. I am relieved to be living. I am grateful for things I never noticed before. And yet...</div>
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I am picking up some yokes of life that I think I SHOULD carry because I FORGET that I wasn't the strong one who got through cancer. I FORGET that I am not the one who should be able to do so much because I think I should have some kind of extra strength now since I am done with chemo and finished with surgeries. I am different now. But I am still the same. I was weak before. I was weak during and I am weak after. And I am kind of glad about that. I don't want to be the one who carries my world alone, even though I sometimes try.<br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">When I am weak, He is strong </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>"Cast your cares on the Lord, and He will sustain you"</i></span></div>
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I haven't been doing these hard things from the beginning. Why do I think I can do them alone now?<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Going to be doing less carrying</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">and more casting... </span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take MY yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light." ~Jesus Christ</span></i></div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-19900219712729730692014-06-20T23:34:00.001-05:002014-06-21T00:16:48.846-05:00And I keep having adventuresIn my last post I mentioned that I sensed change coming. Well, here it is. After more than 14 years in our East Nashville house, we have moved! <div><br><div>I just have to get this off my chest - moving is the worst thing ever (ok, chemo is a little worse - but not much!) I have so much more sympathy for people who are moving than ever before! </div><div>Y'all, I am so tired, I don't know how my body is still functioning.</div><div>But as grueling as the process is, I am so glad we have done it! We are taking the steps to get out of debt and it feels good to be making some wise financial decisions.</div><div><br></div><div>The first morning that I woke up in the new house, the very first thing I read as I opened my Bible was: <i><b>"Lord, you've been kind to your land; you have changed Jacob's circumstances for the better</b></i>." Psalms 85:1</div><div>That verse sums up this move perfectly.</div><div><br></div><div>So now, let me just reminisce about the house we have raised all of our kids in until now:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6Fe4S-wWRznTH1RPE_jtmc1PWmDC2theLuOi1V6e7WKqRa91AWrnM2Hep-51_A7VNUkr6wt6nY7KOwNYIHMJ7ZAbvaWL9gf55eCY8xg_-AsPkEDgiIzE4akGsgi8zlFimKYbFfR_PD7O/s640/blogger-image--1316450219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6Fe4S-wWRznTH1RPE_jtmc1PWmDC2theLuOi1V6e7WKqRa91AWrnM2Hep-51_A7VNUkr6wt6nY7KOwNYIHMJ7ZAbvaWL9gf55eCY8xg_-AsPkEDgiIzE4akGsgi8zlFimKYbFfR_PD7O/s640/blogger-image--1316450219.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXYRgcsUzvtJ3RwXhiUiDtZ68F8dJyVA7DIwUpSv6lFAzAmqN-k8jfeXqMv07eh_Kh0JqGzYfOOgInUHCKtR-7Au_diPVRGQJLbr5DkYk9eKy1hvKqW6lz00Yk5Rs7-szLkRx1kE1wPEJd/s640/blogger-image--1637603936.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXYRgcsUzvtJ3RwXhiUiDtZ68F8dJyVA7DIwUpSv6lFAzAmqN-k8jfeXqMv07eh_Kh0JqGzYfOOgInUHCKtR-7Au_diPVRGQJLbr5DkYk9eKy1hvKqW6lz00Yk5Rs7-szLkRx1kE1wPEJd/s640/blogger-image--1637603936.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio3tfBNU11GKYHsFbaGlxfZmOLQP1oBBgoe497QviMjzR9corWxguwPD22OwKUxW3Vrk5QEYPAHyV_CA2jGgGZuynRTcEx_Iqg0oiimhFjRiImsAcMG_ept0_VvPPKqLhsuznMc0olq-H6/s640/blogger-image-1430252637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio3tfBNU11GKYHsFbaGlxfZmOLQP1oBBgoe497QviMjzR9corWxguwPD22OwKUxW3Vrk5QEYPAHyV_CA2jGgGZuynRTcEx_Iqg0oiimhFjRiImsAcMG_ept0_VvPPKqLhsuznMc0olq-H6/s640/blogger-image-1430252637.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX1d087Fra56GnM8vrHWiIhdy8gVzO1JACWoOxl0ppSQp9cRKsNZMonOS0DP27xgzTW8gVnINbbltOpGA4b0R58qexke9Lcu369c2lrcSBiygIkYqCxSlPd4jH1X4h8ZxWtBWUOfPLbk5y/s640/blogger-image-445061858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX1d087Fra56GnM8vrHWiIhdy8gVzO1JACWoOxl0ppSQp9cRKsNZMonOS0DP27xgzTW8gVnINbbltOpGA4b0R58qexke9Lcu369c2lrcSBiygIkYqCxSlPd4jH1X4h8ZxWtBWUOfPLbk5y/s640/blogger-image-445061858.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7h6rQqo8x6verXGC-jzEM9mByCFE_EwdGlhV99YObD-IODl_6_swe8Ox_bfAsk7O9pUFB2rR8jFnOAMkAdORhAx6eKwYX9rBF4PLV8DYW_uDFjHD7XCrPwa3VmEqRxdBevN-iqMPOC7U/s640/blogger-image-126304529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7h6rQqo8x6verXGC-jzEM9mByCFE_EwdGlhV99YObD-IODl_6_swe8Ox_bfAsk7O9pUFB2rR8jFnOAMkAdORhAx6eKwYX9rBF4PLV8DYW_uDFjHD7XCrPwa3VmEqRxdBevN-iqMPOC7U/s640/blogger-image-126304529.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJT5gdjtECoSA0KwEKbpL-FvVNeRcFzwP_0g_crPb6og-lIwGqhRTuXqzN9VAAsFY4m_XPyQ49ev0hZ1mx_lBDjYhQDybT_aq71jNqofEDGa668Ob6E52CIY-54XSw1_vEMbZ_Nw8jPTky/s640/blogger-image-695357101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJT5gdjtECoSA0KwEKbpL-FvVNeRcFzwP_0g_crPb6og-lIwGqhRTuXqzN9VAAsFY4m_XPyQ49ev0hZ1mx_lBDjYhQDybT_aq71jNqofEDGa668Ob6E52CIY-54XSw1_vEMbZ_Nw8jPTky/s640/blogger-image-695357101.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It was a good place.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The new one will be just as good. Maybe even better.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We get to do a lot of work on it, which is completely daunting and yet exciting. I'm pretty sure I would not be happy if I moved into a space that was already redone. An old untouched house really gets my creative juices flowing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I'm already getting "before" photos of all the lovely flocked and metallic 60's wallpaper for you to Ooooh and ahhh over. You are going to love it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">NOT.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cUQ3DppjH9cKA519uqKCijPTVzaiJXFFPwDXhSQZIXx-aBBMin0VkGiuip8Kjw6C9-qk3wkJkXZ57srUhNB7Bdk6ZDtmerynMSaxVuArP25ejj160sm4pYde9_Ka8ZTJyDvbHicGTm-p/s640/blogger-image--451404195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cUQ3DppjH9cKA519uqKCijPTVzaiJXFFPwDXhSQZIXx-aBBMin0VkGiuip8Kjw6C9-qk3wkJkXZ57srUhNB7Bdk6ZDtmerynMSaxVuArP25ejj160sm4pYde9_Ka8ZTJyDvbHicGTm-p/s640/blogger-image--451404195.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5mbsVq0pZlfe3EfOXNMqjJ0QbS6gMYZDvMT-YSZCXnsps5kLIfnqaJSNQfnqdLCpOuWCHh2g-s0fbrG4YLEMIrziVO6gqImMjH_lqyDdLFmBhm7PHeqjiJWYOZkXrtrdRCOJD5X3YPL3I/s640/blogger-image-148752384.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5mbsVq0pZlfe3EfOXNMqjJ0QbS6gMYZDvMT-YSZCXnsps5kLIfnqaJSNQfnqdLCpOuWCHh2g-s0fbrG4YLEMIrziVO6gqImMjH_lqyDdLFmBhm7PHeqjiJWYOZkXrtrdRCOJD5X3YPL3I/s640/blogger-image-148752384.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">But, give me 14 years, and it is going to be awesome.</div></div><div>(Insert smily face with extra wide, slightly overwhelmed eyes here.)</div>Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-27873032559217788302014-04-18T11:42:00.001-05:002014-04-18T12:05:05.763-05:00What happens when you cry in yoga class and the dumbest prayer I ever prayed<div>
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Ok, nothing really happens when you burst out crying in a class of twenty people all doing the pigeon pos<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">e. Other than there is a weird muffled, snot sound and you feel like a hot, embarrassed mess.</span><br />
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But that has been me. Feeling feelings.</div>
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I am usually a feeling stuffer. I can become disconnected emotionally. I do it to protect myself from getting so happy that it hurts when hopes are dashed, or so sad I can not move forward. I do it to feel in control of my surroundings.<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Not feel</span>.</div>
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Which is why I was taken by surprise when I began to sob in my propped-up-on-blocks pigeon pose. It is a pose I am used to. I love the hip opening burn of it. But I am so protective of my chest, that I can't fully rest with chest laying on my bended knee anymore. I don't know if that is even the real reason I cried. Maybe it was a simple release reflex, and me acknowledging that I am NOT in control (one more time out of millions of times.)</div>
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It seems like the older I get, the less I know. The less I can do. The less I understand. </div>
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And I think this is exactly what God wants me to feel. I am and always have been out of control, and I think He wants me to<i> feel</i> it.</div>
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I have been reading <u>A Praying Life</u> by Paul Miller, (a book I highly recommend) and in it, he talks about this very thing. He quotes John of Landsburg, in his sixteenth century book, <u>A Letter From Christ</u>, who imagines Jesus saying to us:<br />
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"...I don't want you to rely on your own strength and abilities and plans, but to distrust them and to distrust yourself, and to trust Me and no one and nothing else. As long as you rely entirely on yourself, you are bound to come to grief. You still have a most important lesson to learn: your own strength will no more help you to stand upright than propping yourself on a broken reed. You must not despair of Me. You may hope and trust in me absolutely.<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> My mercy is<i> infinite</i>.</span></span>"</div>
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So, my feelings of craziness, out of control, can't think, can't do, don't know, fumbling bumbling tripping speeding kamikaze, can be a GRACE designed to cause me to turn to Jesus - who IS in control. Who loves me and my family. </div>
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Because when I am at the end of my rope, I cling to Him.<br />
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This week was my final chemotherapy treatment. How overjoyed we all are! I have felt my soul breathe a sigh of relief.</div>
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But I have to say that as hard as it has been, I have been blessed a hundred times more than the sorrow it has brought. It has proven the trustworthiness of God and put into perspective the ingredients of my life here on earth. And I don't want to lose that perspective.</div>
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I'm actually <i>scared</i> I will lose that perspective.</div>
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So that brings me to the dumbest prayer I ever prayed:</div>
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"Lord, don't allow me to fall into a sense of my own control, that I might turn to something other than You."</div>
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And then I told Him, "wait, I don't mean that! I need rest!"</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A</span> small voice inside me whispered the words I know to be true:<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> "I (the Lord) am the one that gives rest in the middle of a storm."</span></div>
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And<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> "I fight your battles, you only need to be still."</span></div>
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The day after I prayed my oh, so risky prayer, I begin to feel a change coming to our household. I won't go into detail about it yet, but I can sense that God is answering my desire to cling to Him.</div>
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I have to admit, even with all of His proof of faithfulness, I am still afraid!<br />
I still don't know.<br />
I still don't fully understand<br />
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But I am willing to push my quaking boots into one more step after Him. And then one more step after that.</div>
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I think that is all it takes. </div>
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A minute step forward, as our completely-real childlike selves, towards our God.<br />
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P.S. Happy Easter.</div>
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"He has done it!" Psalm 22:31 </div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-12975709203480402752014-01-01T19:08:00.000-06:002014-01-02T16:33:59.601-06:00A new year with the same GodI couldn't help but wake up today, January 1st, 2014, with a sense of anxiety. Yes, it is a new year, free from surgery after surgery (I just finished my sixth since this whole cancer thing started,) it's past the most intense part of chemotherapy and I'm looking forward to doing things I wasn't able to last year. And with it brings <i>pressure</i>. Pressure that I imposed on myself somewhere in the night or early morning between these two years of Our Lord. "This year I have to be better. This year I have to do more. This year will be the year I ..." fill in the blank.<br />
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I stormed downstairs to provide a "special day" service of making brunch for the family (also my own idea) and I threw my hands up in irritation with a suffocating<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"> feeling of<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> overwhelm</span></i> (is overwhelm a thing? Because this morning it became a noun that choked my being and applied it's crazy, obese weight on my back.) The kitchen was in disarray from our relaxed dinner last night. We were out of eggs and milk. I stepped on a heavily abused toy and generally just woke up too late too feel good about anything anyway.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">If I can't start the day like Mary Poppins on the first day of the year, then how can I do better, be better, do more and be more any other day?</span></span></div>
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My ever peacemaking husband came down to partner with me in the endeavors of the day, and his first task of order was to reminisce a personal moment of clarity.</div>
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We were newly engaged and we went with a few friends to a lonely out of the way camping spot on a very small island in the middle of a lake. It was early spring, and while the weather was pleasant during the day, the water of the lake had not lost its winter chill. As dusk settled on our little two tent temporary homestead, Seth and his friend decided to troll around in the canoe that had expertly delivered us to our island.</div>
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Alone on land, my companions and I tended our fire and darkness settled all around the edges of our bubble. </div>
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I don't know how long they had been out in the boat before we heard a distant splash and strangled cry. I ran as far to the edge of the wet blackness as I thought I could without falling in the frigid water myself or soaking the only pair of sneakers I brought. I screamed a question of well-being into the direction that I last heard my fiancé and friend. There was no immediate reply to me, only "Greg! Greg!.....Greg!" as Seth struggled for purchase on one side of the slippery boat bottom and our friend, unseen by him, struggled to hang on to the other.</div>
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I fell to my knees. I had believed in God once. And for that night I sought Him again. </div>
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Meanwhile, God was planting a seed in my future husband, despite the fact that neither he nor I had desired a relationship with Him on a regular basis. Up until then, God was a being of our own making. One that we had created in our minds to resemble ourselves - made to do what we pleased and was "good" as long as he was making choices that we, ourselves, would make. </div>
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But a proximity to death can sometimes change all of that.</div>
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I finally heard Seth shout out that they were both alive but that the boat had capsized. They were able to save a flashlight and they turned it on to give us an awareness of where they were located. The light helped my hope, but there was nothing we could possibly do in the night to save them - since they had our only means of transportation and it was currently floating upside down in a hypothermic, 80 foot deep lake with the two of them barely hanging on in their water-weighted clothes.</div>
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I couldn't keep track of the time as<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"> I sat at the edge of the island pleading with God and wondering how much longer it would take them to reach shore - or even<i> if</i> they would make it to shore - with their cold, cramped, water-logged muscles straining against the wind blown current that was pushing against their every forward thrust. It was<i> hours</i>. It seemed like days.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And my Seth, who didn't pray, was praying.</span></div>
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He wasn't bargaining with God. His strength was ebbing away but he had the presence of mind to acknowledge that making empty promises to live better would be akin to making idle declarations under duress.<i> It wouldn't mean a thing</i>. Instead he came to a God he hardly knew with nothing but the realization that he indeed had not one iota to offer Someone who could save his meager life.</div>
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Seth's life <i>was</i> saved that day. After clinging to the overturned vessel nearly three hours, the two friends finally made it to the opposite shore despite the lake's desperate attempt to suck them to its depths. They were weak with exhaustion and hypothermia, but they were alive. And a seed had been <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">planted.<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> A seed of what the grace of God truly means.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">A person can't do more, or be more, to earn His love. He is there, loving us before we even see Him. We can't do better or be better to make Him save us from ourselves and our predicaments. We are just not good enough, smart enough, or powerful enough to save ourselves. <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But when he saves you, despite yourself, you can't help but be changed.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">As Seth recounted his story, one that I already knew so well, my heart was guided to bow down to the mighty God of Grace, as tears flowed from my tired eyes.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">This notion of doing better the next year will always end in disappointment. I just can't do better.<i> But He can.</i> Last year,<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> every single thing</span></i> that needed to happen,<i> did</i>. Things that didn't necessarily need to happen, but were welcome blessings and joyous moments, happened too. <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">His Grace</span> was so present in every moment -<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> how can I do better than that?</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"> So for this year, I am entering it just as I am - with all my baggage, my hurts, my many,<i> many </i>scars and my less than perfect ways and I am not going to strive to be better. I'm not going to try to do more. <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm going to keep plodding along</span>, reminding myself to keep my eyes on<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Him,</span></span> who grants every year of my life with more grace than I deserve.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">And His grace will once again be sufficient beyond all my expectations.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And if by grace, then it cannot be based on works; if it were, grace would no longer be grace. (Romans 11:6 NIV)
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-33804517254182975202013-11-20T13:08:00.000-06:002014-01-02T16:34:59.170-06:00Happy are people who are hopeless, because the kingdom of heaven is theirs. (Matthew 5:3)<br />
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A comment that I read this morning on Facebook made me begin to reflect on WHY I ever decided to be a follower of this God/man Jesus Christ.</div>
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When we get caught up in our Christian bubble, with all our Christian friends and our Christian music and ways of life that have become rote, and habit, sometimes it is easy to forget that <span style="font-size: large;"><i>desperation</i></span> that brought us to our knees in front of Him, our Lamb sacrifice.</div>
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And I believe there is a hidden form of persecution that hurts the Body of Christ as much - I think I will go ahead and say MORE - than people who hate Christianity. And that is people who claim they love Jesus Christ and are following Him and are<i> not</i>.<br />
There are pretenders in every social group, every political group and every religion. People who need the group for protection, or anonymity, status or to further their gain. But it is particularly outrageous when a person uses Jesus's name to represent evil. It is the antithesis of who Jesus Christ was and is, and this form of persecution hurts His church and it hurts everyone else who might come to Him but don't because they can't figure out who He is because of these play actors who warp and mar His name and character.</div>
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Faux-Christians would like you to think that they are part of an elite group that is good enough. They are mighty. Righteous. Not like you - but above you. Perfect - or close to it. Their agenda is deemed higher than all others because it was given to them by God. But in actuality, these people are the persecutors. They are wolves in homemade, faux-wool, sheep's clothing.</div>
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And you know it because when you finally see the real sheep, there is no mistaking it.<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Sheep are lost all by themselves. They are desperate for food and water. They are smelly and oily and....animal-y.</span></div>
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Wolves are like that too. And Jesus loves them just as much as He loves the sheep. But the wolves don't care about that because they have their clean, cotton, puffed, detergent smelling lamb costume. And they try to fool everyone, sometimes even themselves.</div>
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This group, this body of people who make up the followers of Jesus Christ is not elite, nor exclusive.</div>
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We are the desperate. The hopeless. The grieving. The meek. The simple minded.</div>
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We are the sinful. We are the liars. The beggars. The diseased. The thiefs. The cheaters. The killers. The abusers. We are the mockers. The haters. The enviers. The self- absorbed.</div>
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We are dirty, stained and broken.</div>
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We are just like you.</div>
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And everyone else is just like us.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Except for Him.</i></span></div>
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He - Jesus Christ - was different.</div>
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He didn't come for those who were different too. He didn't come to show us that we could choose to be different.</div>
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He just came to redeem, all alone, <i>all by Himself,</i> all of that awfulness and brokenness that we have inside us.<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> He paid for it.</i></span> He named us clean. He named us worthy. He named us His family. He called us loved. ALL of us. The whole world. Everyone who ever lived and ever will live.</div>
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It is just that some people want Him in their lives and some people don't. And then some people have on a costume. And think they are not who they really are.</div>
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I came to love Him because when I came to Him I had nothing. <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I was a wolf with a stupid, itchy costume.</span> I was a liar, a thief and a cheater. I was broken and hurt and he tended my bleeding soul. He gave me a heart that I didn't have before. He changed my outlook on this hopeless life. He brought me out of the miry pit of self despair, the never ending joke of self-accomplishment and the abounding weight of anxiety. He made me into a sheep.<i> A real one.</i></div>
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Not to say I don't struggle with all of these things. As long as I am on Earth I still have the capacity to sink and do all of these things I don't want to do. Which is why I am following Him. It is not a one time turning. It is a coming to Him every day. It is staying near Him. It is keeping my eyes on Him as much as I can remind myself to do it. His proximity to me is my food and water. Because without Him I would become that same broken person again.</div>
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Don't be swayed by the "perfect Christian" who doesn't act like Jesus Christ. Go to the source and see what you think about Jesus Christ Himself.<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> It's not a costume party. Just go as yourself.</span></div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-22449954977132996962013-11-01T08:59:00.000-05:002014-01-02T16:35:42.497-06:00Where is your faith?<div>
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I have come through a major storm. But the winds are still gusting. The waves are rolling my boat. The lightning comes threateningly close. I am on the precipice of a decision that will, for the rest of my life, be somewhat of a challenge.<br />
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I have chosen to have my ovaries and uterus removed, thus removing the high possibility that I will get ovarian cancer, and also removing my main source of hormones. </div>
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You see, I tested positive for the BRCA 1 gene mutation, which means that my body doesn't have a great capacity to suppress breast tumors, ovarian tumors or peritoneal tumors. I got an opinion from two different oncologists who both said that I was a ticking time bomb, because they estimate that I have a 60-80% chance of getting ovarian cancer - especially since I have already had early onset breast cancer.</div>
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Besides, my breast cancer grew on hormones, so eliminating them permanently decreases my chance of a relapse.</div>
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Here's my fear:<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> I don't want to live without hormones for so long.</span></i><span style="font-size: large;"> I'm afraid.</span> I'm afraid of bone loss. Memory loss. Hair loss. Dry skin. Aging skin. Heart problems.</div>
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But this is the thing: God, for some reason or another, allows<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> storm after storm after storm</span></i> in our lives. I don't always know the reason, or if there is even a reason besides that I make a broken world my home. I guess I don't need to know the reason except to know that if it weren't for these storms -<span style="font-size: large;"> why would I trust Him at all?</span> I might instead trust myself and my capacity to earn, do, take care of, and fix. I might put my faith in a trusty pay check from a cushy job. I might lean on our incredible technology and the amazing feats of science. Except that I know - beyond all doubt - that all of these things fail. They fall short. They don't last. They don't love me. They can't work miracles.<br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">He said to his disciples, "Where is your faith?" Filled with awe and wonder, they said to each other, "Who is this? He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him!" (Luke 8:25)</span></span></i><br />
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Sometimes, He asks "Where is your faith?"<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> He is <b>not</b> asking you or me to muster up some more</span>.</span> He is not saying that we can be in control (or even that HE can be in control) only if we HAVE enough.<br />
No, He is literally asking us - WHERE have you put it? Have you put in the hormones that keep your body running young and smoothly? Have you put it in healthy food and exercise? Have you put it in your ability to work hard and make money? Have you put it in doctors, or family or friends? <span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Or perhaps have you have just kept it for yourself, hoping that if you collect enough it will mean something?</span></div>
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When Jesus asks "Where is your faith?" He is asking you to place it in HIM if you haven't already. Which is why his disciples immediately ask <span style="font-size: large;">"WHO is this?"</span> And it is the question WE should be asking instead of "Why?" Of course, they know who he is, and you may too - but they are learning <span style="font-size: large;">WHO He IS.</span> He is different. He is not just a teacher.</div>
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He is the ALL. </div>
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GOD.</div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross." (Colossians 1:15-20)</span></i><br />
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Now, I am asking myself in these moments of crippling fear (and I should be asking myself every single day since I so quickly forget) "WHERE have I put my faith?" I know that if it is in Jesus Christ,<span style="font-size: large;"> who commands the storms</span>, it is right where it should be and I have <i>nothing</i> to fear.</div>
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Where is your faith?</div>
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P.s. I always hate to ask for help, but I believe I will once again need some after this surgery. Here is the link for my meal train, if any of you feel inclined to bring a meal. <a href="http://www.mealtrain.com/?id=maopw61ean9t">http://www.mealtrain.com/?id=maopw61ean9t</a></div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-29289460152901274822013-10-07T14:59:00.001-05:002014-01-02T16:36:30.496-06:00"But you, our God, are good and true." Solomon 15:1<div>
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<i>Jesus was in the rear of the boat, sleeping on a pillow. They woke him up and said, "Teacher, don’t you care that we’re drowning?" He got up and gave orders to the wind, and he said to the lake, "Silence! Be still!" The wind settled down and there was a great calm.</i> (Mark 4:38, 39)<br />
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Sometimes I doubt that God is good.<br />
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I don't have a hard time believing that He <b>IS</b>. It is not often difficult for me proclaim that <b>He is in control</b>. But when it comes to His <i>goodness</i>, I falter.</div>
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I think the main question we humans have, after we come to terms with "Is there more out there?", is "<i>Why do bad things happen?" </i></div>
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<i>"Why is everything so .... Broken?"</i></div>
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And our yearning for answers to this messed up world can cause us to examine whether or not God is good and if He truly loves us.</div>
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Yesterday, I sat looking out at a gorgeous sky hovering over the sparkling waters of the Gulf on a vacation that was <i>given to me as a complete gift</i> to celebrate a year of living and surviving a cancer diagnoses.</div>
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I sat in amazement because there was supposed to be a hurricane here yesterday. <b>A monster was headed in our direction, just as we were celebrating nearing the end of our family's personal storm.</b> Preparations were being made for a <i>disaster</i>. Our boys and I were reeling in disappointment.</div>
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I called my mom to cry about our misfortune, and she said to me, "<i>Amanda, God can turn a storm</i>."</div>
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And I told that to my children. Then for a moment, the veil of doubt in Our God's goodness was pulled back and we believed, that no matter what, He <i>loved</i> us.</div>
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Soon after<i style="font-weight: bold;">, the storm broke up.</i></div>
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And the weather was <i>BEAUTIFUL</i>.</div>
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Jesus doesn't always turn the storm.</div>
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But He is always in the boat.</div>
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Sometimes, though, when He knows you have had enough, He says "Be still." in a quiet and authoritative voice.</div>
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<b><i>And it is</i></b>.</div>
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God is not beating me down with some kind of training - like a misused soldier - so that I will bend to His will only out of the need to survive.</div>
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Rather, out of His GOODNESS and love towards me, He is gently coaxing me to love Him, like a father with His beloved daughter.</div>
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Yes, God <i>is</i> good.</div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-56719620473866595712013-09-30T20:48:00.003-05:002014-01-02T16:37:12.281-06:00Letting goMost of my life I have suffered from high anxiety. Panic attacks. A gazillion jumbled thoughts rushing in circles in my head. The need to do, do, do. And the desire for order <i>outside</i> of my body to compensate for the disorder I find going on<i> inside</i>.<br />
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During this whole journey of cancer, I have found myself having -<i> needing</i> - to let go of things in order to make it through. These are things that I told myself were good things to hold onto. Things, I thought I needed - but turns out I don't.</div>
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<b>1. The need for an ordered, clean house.</b></div>
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It is true, I love living in a clean space. There is nothing,<i> hear me,</i> NOTHING, wrong with living in a clean organized space. If I could, I always, always would. But do I need it? No. Am I a bad person or a bad mom with out it? No. </div>
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If people stop by and my house is in shambles, will they judge me or like me less? Maybe. But then, those are the kind of people that I may need to reconsider how close I let them into my life. But the truth is - MOST people are not going to like me less. MOST people are going to be happy to see that my house looks normal, just like their house does. They are going to FEEL<i> less</i> judged by<i> me</i> the next time I go to their house because they know that I am not a super mom. I'm just like every other normal mom and person on the planet. </div>
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We clean when we can.<b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> But life goes on here.</span></b> Lots of life.<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Sometimes the living needs to take up the time and not the cleaning up after it.</span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Let it go.</span></i></div>
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<b>2. My style and appearance.</b></div>
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Some of you might be rolling your eyes at me right now, but for me, this has been an issue. I used to not feel comfortable going out of the house without making sure I had at least a<i> little</i> bit of makeup on, or a cute, trendy outfit, or my hair styled in a way that made me feel confident. Again, there is<i> nothing</i> wrong with any of that! But I literally couldn't go anywhere, without these crutches because of fear of judgment. Did I look too plain, did I look too pretty? Was I too dressed up or too casual? What would people think of me? I don't think I even ever realized that I had these feelings, I just didn't want to leave the house if I wasn't ready. And getting ready took too long, so I just didn't want to leave the house. I know, it sounds crazy - but read the first paragraph of this blog again.</div>
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When I was going through the first, poisonous rounds of chemo and my hair all fell out, I didn't have the luxury of hiding away. I still had to go to the hospital every week. I had people coming to bring food. I had life to live, and I did it all in a scarf. My eyebrows and my eyelashes fell out. And I still had to go and do. And live.<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> And it was ok.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Breathe.</span></div>
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I don't need to look a certain way to be accepted.</div>
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People still like me when I don't have makeup on and am wearing my workout clothes.</div>
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And those same people like me when I'm dressed up all fancy for a date.</div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Let it go.</span></i></div>
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<b>3. Talking to strangers.</b></div>
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In the past, I have been scared of people. I have been afraid to speak up and introduce myself. I have felt embarrassed because I can't remember your name or if we have met before. I expect the worst reaction from others, even if I never, ever get the worst. I expect judgment.</div>
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This is the third time in a row I have mentioned judgement of other people. Can you see a running theme? It was time I<i> stopped living for what others might think, and start living for what God thinks about me</i> - even though I thought I was doing that the whole time.</div>
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I met so many sick and hurting people in the chemo room. There was one day when a woman began having an allergic reaction to some of the meds. She couldn't breath and her face was swelling and turning red. All of the other patients in the room, including me, were looking at her with pity, and with fear that this horrible thing could happen, when I felt the Holy Spirit nudge me to to pray, pray, pray for her. Not inside my own head from my chemo chair, like I was apt to do, but to<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> get up and drag my intravenous pole with me and<b> touch her.</b></span> Y'all, I was so scared to do it. But I knew that if I didn't, I would be disobeying GOD because I was scared of His <i>creation</i>. So I did it. I prayed. Out loud, in that chemo room full of people. And you know what? Her swelling went down and she began to breath. And I looked over at the woman in the chair next to mine, across the room and she was<i> crying</i>.<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> The power of God was in that room. </span></span></div>
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His power can still move, if I disobey. But then I wouldn't get to see it so clearly. </div>
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Engaging His children is something I want to do well.<i> For His glory.</i></span></b></div>
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<b>4. Taking pictures.</b></div>
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I know this sounds like a silly one to let go. And I am not letting it go completely (as you can see.) I still love taking pictures; I love making little snapshots of art and I love looking at them to remember. But I used to take <i>so many</i> photos, for these reasons: to remember, to exercise creative juices, to illustrate my writing, AND to show others what I was doing and how awesome it is was, and<i> to prove to myself and others that I was living a good and happy life.</i></div>
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There, I said it. I wasn't taking all of my pictures for myself and my family and friends to remember or for art's sake, but to try to appease the judgement I thought I felt from the world to<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> BE something and DO something extraordinary and exciting. </span></div>
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And I am neither extraordinary nor exciting. I am an ordinary person who sometimes gets to do extraordinary things because of the grace of God, and I am just as boring as everyone else, unless I somehow get to do something that is fun and exciting. I don't have to prove it for people to like me. I don't have to prove it to be a good person. And I don't have to prove it for God to love me.</div>
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Letting this one go has been years in the making, not just from going through cancer. I have felt some unease about certain aspects of sharing pictures or thoughts online for a while. I just couldn't put my finger on what it was. </div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Let it go.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkjBiEneH4DPR75iBDmzgeprarxey0F3Lpx4WAkHNyZFK6m2OOGFdiUqNqVrwkGUPbwrdoyuicO66UdXPs5-Xk7ZPfKple-i3Ct4xrZAJSzT4pqF0Y4giTHTQVhwIvJM3xpWRqWl8RIg6M/s640/blogger-image--22514291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkjBiEneH4DPR75iBDmzgeprarxey0F3Lpx4WAkHNyZFK6m2OOGFdiUqNqVrwkGUPbwrdoyuicO66UdXPs5-Xk7ZPfKple-i3Ct4xrZAJSzT4pqF0Y4giTHTQVhwIvJM3xpWRqWl8RIg6M/s640/blogger-image--22514291.jpg" width="512" /></a></span></i></div>
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To sum up those lessons I've learned (or hope that I have learned - He is not through with me yet!) I will leave you with this verse that I love and am only just now being able to understand the depths of, in my own heart:<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> "Whatever you do, do it from the heart <i>for the Lord</i> <i>and not for people.</i> You know that you will receive an inheritance as a reward. You serve the Lord Christ."</span></span> Colossians 3:23:24</div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-43916307001691332662013-08-22T12:53:00.001-05:002014-01-02T16:37:41.559-06:00MutilatedI am finally allowed to take a shower today, after my surgery on Monday. I have been looking forward to this moment, so I am surprised when I step into the warm, cascading water and begin to weep. This is not my body, I cry. These are not my breasts.<br />
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They are not the right shape. They aren't the same size. They feel different and in place of where a nipple should be, I have long, angry incisions. I'm am mutilated. </div>
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Of course I knew all of this before I took my clothes off today. I have known this for months. But to start to round the bend to recovery and realize that it will never, ever be the same, I am always and forever different - it is...what word can I use to describe it? It is <i>complex.</i></div>
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<i> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6lotlixcD3HGfE70X2yVZzmrXlPRROLpaZqgiiKOp5VUCZwzoENNgsRou9P0Npg90u_OJj7-BijphZEfHenF2PZ9aArj6c6oH_YA7Ef5bTK8W2ra5W-YqFWXBQY6i5NEm9BJwWJaT4IJN/s640/blogger-image-408249994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6lotlixcD3HGfE70X2yVZzmrXlPRROLpaZqgiiKOp5VUCZwzoENNgsRou9P0Npg90u_OJj7-BijphZEfHenF2PZ9aArj6c6oH_YA7Ef5bTK8W2ra5W-YqFWXBQY6i5NEm9BJwWJaT4IJN/s640/blogger-image-408249994.jpg" /></a></i></div>
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I never thought I would talk about my breasts in public, let alone write about them on a public blog, but here I am, just trying to communicate how in one sense I am so detached from them - in that I don't <i>need</i> them, or <i>want</i> them since they were trying to kill me - and in another way, they are somewhat definitive of my whole journey, and <i>important</i>. What an odd thing.</div>
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Just out of the shower, I know I need to immerse myself in God's words, or else I might find myself meditating on my scars in a negative way all day long. I pull out some scripture cards that someone gave me near the beginning of this journey and begin to read:</div>
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"Have I not commanded you, Amanda? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."</div>
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"You are not your own, Amanda; you were bought with a price, therefore, glorify God in your body."</div>
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"<i><b>Behold, Amanda, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands."</b></i></div>
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What an amazing reminder that Jesus's body was mutilated and scarred beyond anything I can imagine, for <i>me</i>.</div>
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I am not the same. No surgery will be able to make me the same. But there is redemption here. I can't see it at every moment, but when the veil is pulled back for a second and I see it clearly, that is enough to hold on to. </div>
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It is hope. </div>
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That I am not alone.</div>
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That He knows my pain.</div>
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That he will use this broken body for His purposes <i>anyway</i>.</div>
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And that <i>one</i> <i>day</i> I will be made new.</div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-45479794064278969892013-08-15T08:37:00.001-05:002014-01-02T16:38:48.230-06:00August UpdateSchool has officially begun, and I'm on a busy high, with so much that needs to get done and all these rowdy kids to educate. I have been trying so hard to eat healthily and exercise daily, and I have noticed a huge increase in my moods and energy level because of it. I'm so thankful.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2H7WhIomCYBunhbyskdY3dPMyQAi_kiNc0vt1bIJnBX_nxR9DU4fk9zIRilfIZTWVFR_Zn10GMVMv7AdeUrZwbdkJQ-LJJwLtlnexLJjuaXoqbhLOPtMLzMZOtWxWFJ9eHzThuJW710CG/s640/blogger-image-53064818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2H7WhIomCYBunhbyskdY3dPMyQAi_kiNc0vt1bIJnBX_nxR9DU4fk9zIRilfIZTWVFR_Zn10GMVMv7AdeUrZwbdkJQ-LJJwLtlnexLJjuaXoqbhLOPtMLzMZOtWxWFJ9eHzThuJW710CG/s640/blogger-image-53064818.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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I have also been making a very small line of jewelry that represents my journey so far. there are three necklaces, all based on Romans 5:3-5 which says: "... but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. (Romans 5:3-5 NIV)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQxZSgZXkgnRxJwLkm6dgtlOlb9ZR2ELfJ7ZCcrgGTzKIiXyY7nwMBs3TZGw2vxd0u1P54S8Sqn42pCroxNokCxEz280KXP2dVR5-djhvDPDgI_sUtLRHCHfJAvdU-B2Ixh_uW4ShJVa2Z/s640/blogger-image--278176649.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQxZSgZXkgnRxJwLkm6dgtlOlb9ZR2ELfJ7ZCcrgGTzKIiXyY7nwMBs3TZGw2vxd0u1P54S8Sqn42pCroxNokCxEz280KXP2dVR5-djhvDPDgI_sUtLRHCHfJAvdU-B2Ixh_uW4ShJVa2Z/s640/blogger-image--278176649.jpg" /></a></div>
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A portion of the proceeds from the necklaces goes to the Susan G. Komen Race for The Cure, which I will be racing in coming up in October. If you like to run (or walk!) please consider joining my team. I would love to have you beside me on that day. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilY7zGrMfR1P0EkMD1Cw2-XKyyTQsnR630BwRlkGmCb4Djnpkv6fTg7pUmTcC1Mds7yHFHju-vZCju2LqnQYZpWQrjXlNvZr5j9QRvWnq9QyxwyR4C7piUV-7Ew-gFDOK31c7NifZjrbtS/s640/blogger-image-32147006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilY7zGrMfR1P0EkMD1Cw2-XKyyTQsnR630BwRlkGmCb4Djnpkv6fTg7pUmTcC1Mds7yHFHju-vZCju2LqnQYZpWQrjXlNvZr5j9QRvWnq9QyxwyR4C7piUV-7Ew-gFDOK31c7NifZjrbtS/s640/blogger-image-32147006.jpg" /></a></div>
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Here is the link to sign up: <a href="http://www.komennashville.org/komen-race-for-the-cure/teams/">http://www.komennashville.org/komen-race-for-the-cure/teams/</a></div>
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My team name is "Amanda Conley," captained by Sarah Hill.</div>
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I still have to do a treatment every three weeks, and I feel crummy for a few days afterward. But then my body perks back up and I feel good for the remaining days in the treatment cycle.</div>
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On Monday, however, I will be having the remaining reconstruction surgery. So I have been (somewhat manically) preparing for some major down time.</div>
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My dear friend, Sarah, has added days to my meal train so that the first week and a half I can hopefully have some help. I have been constantly amazed at the people who have stepped up and stepped in to carry me and my family through these tough times, and I want you to know that I never, never take it for granted. I am so very thankful for everyone and your constant generosity.</div>
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Here is the link to the meal train: <a href="http://www.mealtrain.com/?id=maopw61ean9t">http://www.mealtrain.com/?id=maopw61ean9t</a></div>
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Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8165367561219538194.post-73345702814094459312013-06-06T11:02:00.001-05:002014-01-02T16:39:22.309-06:00Promises<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgLcvm46rHyvoq92NrJXOrIh2Y9vpzfp1JRfDlKPG7Qek_OmUqxxSqnMThuvrE9fPikoI3rg3rhcFk_OPM2S46Mhi6bFrcKFm44aFXgtOA9xwqM2hp8naWyTQlAatSd72ymzSvLS-JuWN/s1600/blogger-image-1628821980.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgLcvm46rHyvoq92NrJXOrIh2Y9vpzfp1JRfDlKPG7Qek_OmUqxxSqnMThuvrE9fPikoI3rg3rhcFk_OPM2S46Mhi6bFrcKFm44aFXgtOA9xwqM2hp8naWyTQlAatSd72ymzSvLS-JuWN/s640/blogger-image-1628821980.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Just after my mastectomy)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I recently was talking with a dear friend about my cancer journey, and she mentioned that it must have been like jumping in without a net. I assume she meant because there is no sure-fire cure for cancer, and doctors give conflicting recommendations. As I was about to nod my head "yes, exactly," my heart reminded me that I have had something even more tangible than a "net." I have had The Words of God. They have been, to me, more solid than solid ground, more filling than food or drink, more life giving than the air I breathe. They have not been a crutch, but rather the very thoughts of the Source that propel my own two legs forward.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Because, you see, even if there was a cure for cancer, I will still die from something else. No net on earth can stop it. I will die. I will leave my children behind, whether they are young or grown. It is destined to happen to us all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But I have this promise: Jesus said,</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">“I assure you that whoever hears my word and believes in the one who sent me has eternal life and won’t come under judgment but has passed from death into life. "</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); line-height: 24px;">This is my Father’s will: that all who see the Son and believe in him will have eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day."</span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); line-height: 24px;">How can I believe this? Because I have already seen His promises come true in my life.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); line-height: 24px;">Below are some of the promises I have leaned on throughout this journey: </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); line-height: 24px;"> </span></b></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding, but in all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths.</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord and depart from evil. It will be health to your flesh and strength to your bones. (Proverbs 3: 5-8)</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: "I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite. (Isaiah 57:15)</span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">They will be like trees planted by the streams, whose roots reach down to the water. They won’t fear drought when it comes; their leaves will remain green. They won’t be stressed in the time of drought or fail to bear fruit. (Jeremiah 17:8)</span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, the one who called you into his eternal glory in Christ Jesus, will himself restore, empower, strengthen, and establish you. (1 Peter <a href="x-apple-data-detectors://6" x-apple-data-detectors-result="6" x-apple-data-detectors="true">5:10</a>)</span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name! Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's. (Psalms 103:1-5)</span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">Return, O my soul, to your rest; for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you. For you have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling; I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living. ......O Lord, I am your servant; I am your servant, the son of your maidservant. You have loosed my bonds. I will offer to you the sacrifice of thanksgiving and call on the name of the Lord. (Psalms 116:7-9, 16, 17)</span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">******************************************************</span></span></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have seen the evidence of all of these promises in my life. How can I not believe His ultimate promise?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I had a conversation recently where someone said to me that faith was believing something that can not be proven. I said that faith is believing in something you can't see based on evidence that you CAN see.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 24px;"><b>Faith is the reality of what we hope for, the proof of what we don’t see. (Hebrews 11:1)</b></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 24px;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 24px;">I still have quite a long journey to go. I have several surgeries ahead of me, I have to go into the the oncologist office for the next nine months and receive a chemo-like treatment (but without all of the really bad side effects that the previous treatments had) and I am facing living the rest of my life without hormones. There have been moments that I have been TERRIFIED, but because of these promises of God that have already come true in my life, I can walk forward and EXPECT them to be true again. His mercies are new everyday if only we will turn to Him as our source of power and not ourselves, or our doctors, or our food, or ANYTHING else. His existence and power is true. I can hear it, see it, taste it and feel it in my life. And I know I will continue to as I continue to LIVE.</span></span></span></span></div>
Amanda Conleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13831617928746860840noreply@blogger.com5