tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66854916532693139222024-03-05T05:23:23.762-08:00The Unlikely Pastor's WifeI'm just a girl who happens to be married to a pastorThe Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.comBlogger120125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-7422534557162017622010-04-06T14:56:00.000-07:002010-04-06T15:15:17.911-07:00Ignore or Befriend?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0pTtXbiL786FS-Qg-ldRPLkUTC2-BYnKhf1vEYVvVM8-4zbt_iZkFaAVRto5JHVK_1lFIb6edAjul4ai6NYBG7nTvn0lUL485ClJsYlfuq5wuturb0Xu6I-q6s2mevwNJwohWdVfr0oI/s1600/ignore.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 124px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0pTtXbiL786FS-Qg-ldRPLkUTC2-BYnKhf1vEYVvVM8-4zbt_iZkFaAVRto5JHVK_1lFIb6edAjul4ai6NYBG7nTvn0lUL485ClJsYlfuq5wuturb0Xu6I-q6s2mevwNJwohWdVfr0oI/s320/ignore.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457151331981190434" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD94ecAtETL1mlAMdCyA56H4UakdRlwqV56nFxLSJmlFQe4Dxb3q4S9BtsAmDOv2UKlxpL5tOToLCbTdKsZR1ATb02YJz0G4ePqEB5UJCjbh7oUViluli4ELe7QdOTc5K4bcb1ByHAUKc/s1600/facebook2.jpg"><br /></a><br />Today for the first time in what seems like forever, I had time to screw around on the computer.<br /><br />Actually, I just lied.<br /><br />I didn't. But I was procrastinating...so in essence, I had time.<br />Anyway, I went over to my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Facebook</span> page and decided to take a gander at the Friends Suggestions Page. I NEVER do this. I am not one to go out "looking" for friends. I did in the beginning because I started doing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Facebook</span> before it blew up in social circles and not very many of my friends were on it yet. But then they saw the light and now they are all hooked.<br /><br />Except one friend. She refuses. Yes, Valentine....I'm talking about you. (ha! She doesn't even read my blog! So she'll never see this. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Bambushka</span> GET ON <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">FACEBOOK</span>!)<br /><br />Sorry....lost focus. (see what happens when you stop blogging).So I took a gander at my friends suggestions page and in the sea of faces I saw......<br /><br />my Husbands congregation.<br /><br />Sigh.<br />I Love them. I do....I love them all. But I started wondering.....should people in your church be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Facebook</span> friends?<br /><br />Some...absolutely! But I'm not talking about the people you see and talk to every week at church or at church activities. I'm talking more about the people you know....but you don't know. The people that the pastor knows and you might know their names, but you know nothing about them.<br />Is there even a line? Should there be a line?<br />I don't know.<br /><br />That is why I bring it to the blogging world. What do you all think?<br /><br />But here's my last thought. I was thinking...if they wanted to be friends with me they would request me right?<br /><br />Right.<br /><br />But they haven't.<br /><br />So problem solved.<br /><br />No feelings hurt.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSVHmJnt83gd6E9i25BKuzcWd2LlYh3d8t6fE0krzK-gACc6IotSEJwZc8gwNqytwSwVI01vaF8DQZvykDZcP_TiQxFdm2yA4i8heRGpgLef3wfoPzB4tXyseylNp_boJ4y1y45FdbHrU/s1600/facebook2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 90px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSVHmJnt83gd6E9i25BKuzcWd2LlYh3d8t6fE0krzK-gACc6IotSEJwZc8gwNqytwSwVI01vaF8DQZvykDZcP_TiQxFdm2yA4i8heRGpgLef3wfoPzB4tXyseylNp_boJ4y1y45FdbHrU/s320/facebook2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457151258196612738" border="0" /></a>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-8461321977613142762010-04-06T11:13:00.000-07:002010-04-06T11:20:49.550-07:00In Case You Didn't NoticeI'm having a hard time bloggin lately for several different reasons.<br /><br />Time. Don't have much.<br /><br />Lack of Inspiration. too busy.<br /><br />But mostly I have been thinking its all very narcissistic.<br /><br />Now...my blogging friends....I don't mean you, because frankly, I like reading other people's stuff when I have the time.<br /><br />But I have been having very funny feelings about the reasons why I blog.<br />I first started because I wanted to have a place where I could say honest things about me, ministry, kids and life in general. But when I try to blog I have started to edit myself.<br /><br />Don't want to ruffle the feathers.<br />Don't want people to worry.<br />That might be taken the wrong way.<br /><br />and then I ask...why am I writing this? is it all about me?<br /><br />I just don't know.<br /><br />and I'm stuck.<br /><br />Maybe I'll be unstuck soon.<br /><br />But I don't know....we'll see.The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-21343390473439799892010-02-02T13:48:00.000-08:002010-02-02T13:55:12.340-08:00Blurg!Sometimes I'm tired of church<div><br /><div>and so frustrated with it, I just want to shout out "BLERG!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes I think the pastors are lame (including my hubby).</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes I think committees are lame.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes I think the people are lame and fake.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes I think the music is empty, meaningless and lame.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes I think I am lame and a phony for feeling such things.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm glad that Jesus is none of these things.</div><div><br /></div></div>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-10732110384043148002010-02-01T19:35:00.001-08:002010-02-01T19:52:28.946-08:00Totally 'Lost'only 24 hours.....<div><br /></div><div>That's right, I'm counting down to one of the most anticipated season premieres.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQiGdYicfojUPNy0ZbiwRfw0ACBkQYBZVtBZM6TNkU3x1gGu39R8Ssj7I-O_oUGnTCS1YbGyLOIfA7B0ZWV1si4En5UnMtLSNLf4xupi-3Gf2aLoSMEMNfYHbD3JWFFKdTTcD3JnQVYKY/s1600-h/lost-season-5-promo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQiGdYicfojUPNy0ZbiwRfw0ACBkQYBZVtBZM6TNkU3x1gGu39R8Ssj7I-O_oUGnTCS1YbGyLOIfA7B0ZWV1si4En5UnMtLSNLf4xupi-3Gf2aLoSMEMNfYHbD3JWFFKdTTcD3JnQVYKY/s400/lost-season-5-promo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433488413990031058" /></a></div><div>It's the 6th and finally season of Lost and I can't believe it's already here.</div><div><br /></div><div>Usually I spend my time reading all the latest news on my favorite tv shows. And Lost is no different. I love reading <a href="http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,20313460_20337825,00.html">Doc Jenson's</a> take on Lost , and salivating on all the pretty Lost EW covers.</div><div><br /></div><div>With the final season about to premiere you would think that I would have scoured the internet for any and all information I could get on the show. But I haven't. Oh...there's alot out there. It's probably all amazing <a href="http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,20313460_20339244,00.html">intel</a>...especially since people like Doc are getting interviews with <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0511541/">Damon</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0193681/">Carlton</a> (yep, I'm on a first name basis with them. But let us not forget that <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0009190/">JJ</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0509340/">Jeffrey</a> are a part of this too.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I have decided to keep this season premiere pure. </div><div>Every time I see an article....I look away.</div><div>If I start to hear anything on the radio, I turn the knob. </div><div><br /></div><div>I want my season premiere viewing to be nothing short of extraordinary.....and I believe it will. Season after season these guys have knocked my socks off....</div><div><br /></div><div>and I am confident they won't fail me now.</div><div><br /></div><div> only 24 more hours......and I will be totally 'Lost'.</div><div><br /></div>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-88308170994236306622010-01-30T19:51:00.001-08:002010-01-30T19:56:44.304-08:00Prayers for Ronel<h3 class="post-title entry-title"><span style="font-size:100%;">Here's an excerpt from a friend blogger...please read.....and help.</span><br /></h3><h3 class="post-title entry-title"><br /></h3><h3 class="post-title entry-title"><a href="http://thehowertons.blogspot.com/2010/01/prayers-for-ronel.html">prayers for Ronel</a> </h3> <div class="post-body entry-content"> <div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px;"> <script type="text/javascript"> tweetmeme_url = 'http://thehowertons.blogspot.com/2010/01/prayers-for-ronel.html'; </script> <script src="http://tweetmeme.com/i/scripts/button.js" type="text/javascript"> </script><iframe src="http://api.tweetmeme.com/button.js?url=http%3A//thehowertons.blogspot.com/2010/01/prayers-for-ronel.html&style=normal" width="50" frameborder="0" height="61" scrolling="no"></iframe> </div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVivSE8XTkfMVGWpf2hKchZCjABl3kXU7fyidf25aXwrDzSyb9puT1kYJmQvswC-IRW8twwnEkB6AHBGCYqKlzAK1lFbnxHz1WRP8oSS0sIgGG_Agdyj2z1lRnmjAwDZevWv7C1n4SytWm/s1600-h/ronel2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 245px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVivSE8XTkfMVGWpf2hKchZCjABl3kXU7fyidf25aXwrDzSyb9puT1kYJmQvswC-IRW8twwnEkB6AHBGCYqKlzAK1lFbnxHz1WRP8oSS0sIgGG_Agdyj2z1lRnmjAwDZevWv7C1n4SytWm/s400/ronel2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432418916360835522" border="0" /></a><br />My heart is heavy tonight for the adoptive parents who are still waiting to get their children home from Haiti, and for the children who wait in the balance. Since <a href="http://thehowertons.blogspot.com/2010/01/lovely-day.html">we got Kembert</a> out last week, things have changed dramatically. On January 18th, the US government announced it was granting humanitarian parole for orphans already in the process of adoption. This made perfect sense: these children were shown to be eligible for adoption prior to the earthquake.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>The Haitian and US government go through extensive searches when a child enters the system to show this to<span style=""> </span>be true, including the procurement of death certificates, DNA testing, and birthparent interviews.<span style=""> </span>I was so proud that our country saw the value of evacuating these children into the care of waiting families in the US, not only to remove them from a precarious situation, but also to free up room in orphanages to take care of children who are orphaned or displaced as a result of the earthquake.<br /><br />This all seemed to make sense for a couple days. The US agreed, Haiti agreed, and we saw lots of personal interest <a href="http://abclocal.go.com/kabc/video?id=7235930&syndicate=syndicate&section=">news stories</a> of <a href="http://www.ocregister.com/news/kembert-230699-family-howerton.html">happy families</a> united with their children. That is, until UNICEF stepped in. UNICEF, with their seemingly charitable gestures towards children worldwide, happens to be an organization that is staunchly, and often illogically, anti-adoption. It is also an organization that wields a great amount of power (and money), and when they put the pressure on, Haiti complies. There is a lot to be said about <a href="http://randybohlender.wordpress.com/2010/01/26/wwunicefd/">UNICEF's views</a>. There is an essay brewing there - but for now, the short version is that UNICEF would prefer children without parents to be raised in an institution within their culture of origin rather than by a loving family of a different culture. In other words, race/culture trumps family/nurture/security. (It doesn't take a psychologist to see the faulty logic there).<br /><br />Over the last week, the effort to get previously-matched children out of Haiti has slowed considerably. Extra steps have been added, redundant steps, steps that pose no added measure of safety since these children HAVE ALREADY BEEN CLASSIFIED AS ADOPTABLE BY THE HAITIAN GOVERNMENT, and since these parents HAVE ALREADY SUBMITTED AN EXTENSIVE HOMESTUDY/DOSSIER/BACKGROUND CHECK. This is effecting hundreds of waiting children. One such child is Ronel. I want to tell Ronel's story, because I think it is a compelling example of the need for international adoption, and a tragic (hopefully only temporarily tragic) example of how UNICEF's corruption affects orphaned children.<br /><br />Ronel was abandoned at the <a href="https://www.realhopeforhaiti.org/therescuecenter.html">Rescue Center</a> of <a href="https://www.realhopeforhaiti.org/">Real Hope for Haiti</a>, which is an amazing medical mission that takes in malnourished children and nurses them back to health. I am constantly amazed by the life-saving work these sisters do. When he was brought in, he weight 28 pounds (less than my daughter India). They were unsure of his age, but guessed him to be about 7 or 8 years old. Over a few months at the <a href="http://haitirescuecenter.wordpress.com/">Rescue Center</a>, his weight nearly doubled. Because his parents had died and no other family came to claim him, they <a href="http://haitirescuecenter.wordpress.com/2008/07/02/are-you-willing-to-do-some-water-walking/">searched for an adoptive family</a>.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik2f7czRWEkSdpRitBIwgRuZa3Qc5g3nnuOAUXMU9TxVO55iIlSRzTdXYF4jlRLo41SsL1ZX3q5HMQlobOEg4UYhDihe8DcBdv1zf8DCOmtL_CKjTstb0Z6O52xO1gseAvmM1nHF7SUfmj/s1600-h/ronel.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik2f7czRWEkSdpRitBIwgRuZa3Qc5g3nnuOAUXMU9TxVO55iIlSRzTdXYF4jlRLo41SsL1ZX3q5HMQlobOEg4UYhDihe8DcBdv1zf8DCOmtL_CKjTstb0Z6O52xO1gseAvmM1nHF7SUfmj/s400/ronel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432406628805919442" border="0" /></a>(photo from <a href="http://haitirescuecenter.wordpress.com/">RHFH blog</a>, before treatment)<br /></div><br /><a href="http://debraparker.typepad.com/">Debra</a> answered that call. I've never met Debra in person, but I feel like we're friends through this crazy blogging world. She is friends (the real-life kind) with <a href="http://dreamingbigdreams.net/">Jamie</a>, who <a href="http://dreamingbigdreams.net/?p=1104">posted a photo of Ronel on her blo</a>g. Debra saw the picture and <span style="font-style: italic;">knew</span>. THIS WAS HER SON. She and her husband Ernest started the process to adopt Ronel. This was well over a year ago. Like many of us, they were in the wait to get him home when the earthquake happened. Like many of us, they moved into action to try to get their son home.<br /><br />Ronel was supposed to come home the night Kembert did. He was one of the kids who did not get approval, and got left behind. My heart was so heavy for Debra that night, as she rejoiced for those of us getting our kids home. But even worse was reading this <a href="http://healing-haiti.blogspot.com/2010/01/broken-houses-broken-homes-and-broken.html#comment-form">visiting missionary</a>'s account of what that night was like for Ronel:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;">Tara told me today that the boys were flying to the US. One was going to his adoptive family in Houston Texas, the other to a family in Dallas. When</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> I got back from my days work, the boys were all dressed in their very best to meet their new families. They were so excited. I was so excited for them. It was hard to watch them go.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Later in the evening after dinner, the truck returned from the airport where 27 children were flying to meet their new parents. In the front seat of the truck was Ronel, the 6-7 year old that was staying in my room. I asked why he was still here and Tara told me it was because they needed one more paper for him. The othe</span><span style="font-style: italic;">r children got to go. She said she hoped they could get the needed paperwork tomorrow. I would never wish for you to see the disappointment on Ronel's face because it would crush your heart... it did mine. It was dark and the power was off. He went into our room, laid down on the bed, pulled the sheets up and sobbed. It was so sad. Tara came in and talked to him in Kreole... I'm not sure what she said but I know she was trying to comfort him. After a time she got up and left as I sat across the room. I could not leave him by himself. I went over and motioned for him to move over and I laid down next to him. The tears were pouring out of him. He was still in his new clothes as he fell asleep. </span> </blockquote><br />The embassy wanted one more paper to send Ronel home. He was supposed to go home the next day. That was a week ago.<br /><br />Three days ago, Debra's husband flew down to try to get him out. From <a href="http://debraparker.typepad.com/just_one_girl/">Debra</a>:<br /><p style="font-style: italic;"><strong></strong></p><blockquote><p style="font-style: italic;"><strong>I did not know I would literally have to fight for him.</strong></p><p style="font-style: italic;"><strong></strong><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://debraparker.typepad.com/.a/6a010535fe0455970c0128771776f5970c-800wi"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://debraparker.typepad.com/.a/6a010535fe0455970c0128771776f5970c-800wi" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p style="font-style: italic;">He [Ernest] just got word that the US is deciding to comply with a request from the Haitian government. That request is to approve of all children who leave the country after they have been cleared by the United States. France and Canada have not complied and are getting their waiting children home. Our US Ambassador has not cleared children and will not see the parents waiting/pleading. They were just told that the Ambassador has left for the day.</p><p style="font-style: italic;">There are sick children and pregnant women sleeping on the floor in hopes to bring children home all the while nothing is being signed out. All documents are ready to go except for that approval.</p><span style="font-style: italic;">...</span><p style="font-style: italic;">E has said that every time they call him to the window Ronel runs up to his side and says a phrase in kreyol with an expectant look on his face <em>CAN WE GO?</em> As in can we go home. As in can we go to THIS home. His home.</p><p style="font-style: italic;">I will not lie and say that I am not fighting fear. I am. I am fearful of Ronel being hurt again. Being left again. It would break Ernest. I cannot imagine what it would do to Ronel. Would he understand that we would still fight for him? To think of it makes my stomach sick.</p></blockquote><p>That was written yesterday. They spent all day at the embassy again today. They still don't know if or when the ambassador will sign them out.</p><p>Ronel's story is just one story of hundreds. Hundreds of orphaned children with waiting families, and nothing separating them but political manoeuvrings and power plays that put children at risk. I hope that you will read this and consider educating yourself on UNICEF's<a href="http://www.articlesbase.com/parenting-articles/international-adoption-unicefs-and-other-critics-war-against-international-adoption-719309.html"> history in thwarting international adoption</a>, and register your voice of dissent.<br /></p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;">Raymond Joseph<br />Haitian Ambassador to US<br />embassy@haiti.org<br />p 202-332-4090<br />f 202-745-7215<br /><br />Kenneth H Merten<br />US Ambassador to Haiti<br />Tabarre 41, Blvd 15 Octobre<br />Port-au-Prince, Haiti<br />Haiti-earthquake@state.gov<br />P 509 22 29 8000<br />F 509 22 29 8028<br /><br />Hilary Clinton/Dept of State<br />U.S. Department of State<br />2201 C Street NW<br />Washington, DC 20520<br /><b> </b><b>Main Switchboard: </b><br />202-647-4000 </div> </div> <div style="float: right;"> = </div> <a href="http://www.facebook.com/share.php?u=http://thehowertons.blogspot.com/2010/01/prayers-for-ronel.html"><img alt="www.tips-fb.com" src="http://i571.photobucket.com/albums/ss152/kangkombor/share-fb.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://thehowertons.blogspot.com/2010/01/prayers-for-ronel.html">prayers for Ronel</a><br /><br />Posted using <a href="http://sharethis.com/">ShareThis</a>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-34410637874279989942010-01-23T08:48:00.000-08:002010-01-23T08:56:12.529-08:00Oh To Be Loved Like That......<span style="font-weight:bold;"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Keanan is home. </span></i></span></span><br /><br /><br />I can imagine that this is how God waits for us......<br /><br />How He yearns for us to be in His arms....<br /><br />How He will hold us when we come home....<br /><br />and how He loves us.<br /><br />What a beautiful picture of being loved.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEsuUy07MSy3w1y7YNFav4sT8DZTvSHEqGh8MaAK599T79vsFuTXs4icYj64Mz-xk0sUUyCAJfW78fZD_C4SMp0dEUWSFpXhOcbnCiDewHnZcGW2A0HR1xNSA3lRZvszU4LL_PlYmwdSc/s1600-h/svlj.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEsuUy07MSy3w1y7YNFav4sT8DZTvSHEqGh8MaAK599T79vsFuTXs4icYj64Mz-xk0sUUyCAJfW78fZD_C4SMp0dEUWSFpXhOcbnCiDewHnZcGW2A0HR1xNSA3lRZvszU4LL_PlYmwdSc/s320/svlj.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429979581007687122" /></a>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-7468716247397813662010-01-21T12:11:00.000-08:002010-01-21T12:33:47.859-08:00Quiet does not equal Peace<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" ><span>You know your baby is a 3rd child when.....</span></span><br /><br />You give them everything under the sun to eat before 12 months old.<br /><br />You don't even try putting on shoes before they can walk. What's the point?<br /><br />You turn a blind eye when a friend slips your baby a piece of a cookie or a french fry. Why deprive them? (However...you don't turn a blind eye when they try to sneak them a lollipop-that's too crazy...even for you)<br /><br />at 10 months old he loves peanut butter.<br /><br />You don't panic leaving them alone in a room.<br /><br />You don't child proof your house....they'll eventually figure out how to open it anyway.<br /><br />You realize the quiet doesn't mean peace...it means poop or trouble....or maybe both.<br /><br />You practically run away when you drop them off with a sitter.<br /><br />Schedules? what schedules? it's all thrown out the window when you gotta pick up the older kids.<br /><br />You don't feel the need to play with them every second. A little alone playtime is good for the soul. (theirs & yours)<br /><br />You don't introduce foods slowly...you try it at the dinner table every night for entertainment.<br /><br />Crying becomes white noise.<br /><br />Practical items like toothbrushes and tupperware are toys rather than the new bright & shiny toys from the store.<br /><br />You don't feel the need to dress them up when all they are gonna do is stay at home. Jammie days are good days. (for them & you)<br /><br />They spend more time in the car seat than their own crib.<br /><br />You don't care if other people reading this might think you are lazy and negligent...you know it's just truth.<br /><br />You allow your baby to do things like this....and you think it's funny:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRIzMs5_9444qv8cWresgjJq3cNnQP9cal9qm74x3XRmZY_4LCG4zjekZ-36v2AEJv6SAqJwPH8pBKn80YCJzBSOqWSryskxupYlcylLT1F2lZpos-N9Fne_q-jAqiPhy-SmkmAEu5Mo/s1600-h/wesindishwasher.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRIzMs5_9444qv8cWresgjJq3cNnQP9cal9qm74x3XRmZY_4LCG4zjekZ-36v2AEJv6SAqJwPH8pBKn80YCJzBSOqWSryskxupYlcylLT1F2lZpos-N9Fne_q-jAqiPhy-SmkmAEu5Mo/s320/wesindishwasher.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429293240493369474" border="0" /></a>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-57188249500293555912010-01-20T12:23:00.000-08:002010-01-20T13:16:48.575-08:00Oh, to Love like that.....The past year I have spent moments contemplating much.<br /><br />Contemplating the thread that weaves through my fingers keeping me from letting go into insanity.<br /><br />Contemplating the state of my church, our church, the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">American</span> church and the church universal.<br /><br />I have thought about my sin and judgement on others and how it makes me feel less.<br /><br />I have pondered the what <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ifs</span> in my life and have given my thoughts selfishly over to the "But I want" way of thinking.<br /><br />I have sat and criticized others in my mind for their thoughtless actions and ways of doing things...all the while trying not to point the finger at myself.<br /><br />and I have contemplated the lack of love....real, life giving love that exists in our world, in my country, in my church, and in me.<br /><br />Love...<br /><br />when it all comes down to it<br /> is really the only thing we have abundantly to give...<br /><br />and yet it's the one thing that we hold tightly, keeping it only for special people and for special reasons.<br /><br />We hold it in because it's the most joyful feeling....and the most hurtful feeling.<br /><br />I have held my love in....because I get tired. I get tired of feeling so very much.<br /><br />I have held it in because I get so overwhelmed.....and I fear I don't have enough courage.<br /><br />Yes....courage.<br /><br />Courage to go out.....to love someone somewhere that is uncomfortable. Somewhere that's unknown to me.<br /><br />There is so much need.<br /><br />But then...I hear of someone like <a href="http://msdianedavis.blogspot.com/2010/01/legacy-in-letter_20.html">Diane </a>loving so incredibly it breaks me.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Love incarnate.</span><br /><br />And I can only hope that I can have the courage to love and affect the way she has.<br /><br />We, as <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Christians</span>, all talk so much about loving others for Jesus.<br /><br />Love others like Jesus.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">But sometimes that carries no meaning.</span><br /><br />But to see it before your eyes......then it somehow becomes alive.<br /><br />My friend <a href="http://msdianedavis.blogspot.com/2010/01/legacy-in-letter_20.html">Diane </a>has done that. She has allowed the love of Christ to pour completely out of her being...and it has already changed one life.<br /><br />Read her <a href="http://msdianedavis.blogspot.com/2010/01/legacy-in-letter_20.html">blog </a>to see how.<br /><br />Because I know that I can only hope to love like that.<br /><br />To love beyond myself when it doesn't benefit me.<br /><br />To love when and where others don't go.<br /><br />Oh, to Love like that.The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-46784577503579535462010-01-19T19:30:00.000-08:002010-01-19T19:38:36.696-08:00Needing a little Facelift...or maybe just Botox.<div>It's time folks. Its out with the old...in with the new. I am figuring it can rival the likes of <a href="http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20337744,00.html">Heidi Montag (ew!)</a> and have a "few" procedures done. A nip here....a tuck there...a new "thing" here.</div><div><br /></div>Before you say, "how could you?" or "jen...don't do it!"<div><br /></div><div>Lemme Explain.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm talking about my blog people.</div><div><br /></div><div>Its needs a new look.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I'm no artist. I have no idea where to start. </div><div><br /></div><div>So I'm looking for some work...pro bono....to help jump start my blog's look.</div><div><br /></div><div>Any ideas out there? </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm all ears......</div>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-5771162467846624552010-01-19T13:31:00.000-08:002010-01-19T13:42:26.252-08:00Helping Haiti and The Howertons<h3 class="post-title"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">You have all seen the devastation and heard of how desperate the situation is in Haiti</span></span>.<br /></h3>I can't even wrap my head around it all....there are so many who need aid.<br />I want to help and give, give, give.<br />I'm sure you do too.<br /><br />Here is one way that we can help one child, one family......<br /><br /><a href="http://lifeasagoble.blogspot.com/2010/01/howertons-need-our-help.html">"The Howertons Need Our Help...</a><br /> <div align="left">There's an Orange County family trying to finalize the adoption of their son, Keanan in Haiti. Kristin (the mom) was in Haiti visiting him when the earthquake hit. They all survived and Kristen was evacuated but was forced to leave Keanan there. The Howertons are desperately trying to get him home and they need our help.<br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 267px; display: block; height: 400px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427755384014657922" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V8n57W5i6i8/S1NCw6foWYI/AAAAAAAACbQ/JLHEMUinD7w/s400/Howerton+family+help+bring+their+son+home+from+haiti" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>(Kristin with her son Keanan and her daughter Karis - taken about an hour before the quake hit)<br /></strong></span></em></p><em></em><p><br />In a crisis of this magnigtude, we often feel paralyzed by helplesness. The destruction is so overwhelming - the loss is so great.<br /><br />But here's an opportunity where WE CAN HELP!!!<br /><br />Please take a few moments to <a href="http://thehowertons.blogspot.com/2010/01/operation-get-him-home.html">read the Howerton's blog </a>- it provides details on what we can do to help them bring their precious boy home. It's easy - it takes very little time - and it will make a difference. </p><p>Also, pass the word along to your friends so that they can help too. The blogging community is huge, and word spreads fast. Let's use it to affect change and get this family together! If you have a blog or if you are on Facebook, post the link to their blog so that you can pass the word to even more people.</p>Here's the link to their blog: <a href="http://thehowertons.blogspot.com/">http://thehowertons.blogspot.com</a><br /><br />There are so many children out there that need our help...here's a way that we can at least affect change for one....and maybe some others.<br />Don't pass on this opportunity to help this family..."<br /><br /><br />btw...original author is Heidi Goble...I plagariarized her blog.The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-31588732923558835792010-01-14T14:09:00.000-08:002010-01-19T13:42:54.433-08:00Horrificoh Haiti.<div><br /><div>My heart hurts for the horribleness of Tuesday.</div><div><br /></div><div>Moments pass by and I try not to think of it knowing that a dam is ready to burst if I do.</div><div>But then it comes.....and it breaks and my heart is overwhelmed with grief.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here I sit in my lovely house with running water, electricity , and shelter and I feel horrible.</div><div><br /></div><div>I would rather be there.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know you very well, but I want to be there to hold your hand, to give you my ear and bring you some kind of hope.</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel so useless just giving you my money...but I know for now it's for the best.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am thinking of you, praying earnestly for you, hoping for you and loving you from afar.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm hoping that can be enough.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-78310238312191384592009-10-13T21:16:00.000-07:002009-10-13T21:47:33.300-07:00Betrayal<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq42K8nq4Cy-T8-xZZGZFi_UpA60CIZOHSRmogO8xmUQBsuqXMUp-pDUlLLMaOIER2qGOVW1Fs0X9of36SkjUyqjgKSLOYev9-pVfDAfeau9ZQNg8ni2McMd0B6eHO81IumR6Xce8oC6Y/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq42K8nq4Cy-T8-xZZGZFi_UpA60CIZOHSRmogO8xmUQBsuqXMUp-pDUlLLMaOIER2qGOVW1Fs0X9of36SkjUyqjgKSLOYev9-pVfDAfeau9ZQNg8ni2McMd0B6eHO81IumR6Xce8oC6Y/s400/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392312154632523378" /></a><br />A few weeks ago I found myself behind enemy lines.......<div><br /></div><div>the McDonald's drive-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">thru</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>For many of you that know me....you know that our family doesn't eat at <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">McDonald's</span>. For those of you that don't....here's a small recap.</div><div><br /></div><div>About 4-5 years ago Paul and I watched "<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0390521/">Super-Size Me</a>" and read "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fast_Food_Nation">Fast Food Nation</a>". Just from that movie and book we made the decision not to go to McDonald's ever again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Our decision wasn't so much based on how unhealthy the food was (although, that did help) but based on the the way Mickey D's does their business. We decided we didn't want to give our money to a company that sets such extremely low standards for the fast food industry. They have the biggest influence on the industry and they have made poor decisions in their business making that have badly affected our country's economy and waste line. I won't get on my soap box here....but if you want to know more...watch the movie.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I have been McDonald's Free since then. At first it was hard because those fries just smell so darn good. It got even a little harder when our kids would ask why we couldn't eat there. After explaining to them in a way they could comprehend they finally got it. So much so that when someone took them to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">McDonald's</span> they told us they didn't think that person cared about other people since they spend their money at the golden arches. (oops!).</div><div><br /></div><div>So how did I find myself driving alone in the drive-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">thru</span>?</div><div><br /></div><div>I was doing a favor for a friend that did a favor for me. She let me borrow her car to go get something I needed, but in return I had to pick up her son's lunch at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">McD's</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>So there I was.....with her money in hand.....and I wasn't "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">lovin</span> it".</div><div><br /></div><div>Even though I wasn't spending my money I still felt dirty. </div><div><br /></div><div>I felt like I was a traitor.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was even darting my eyes around hoping no one would see me.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I didn't feel so bad when I ordered a Dr. Pepper for myself.</div><div><br /></div><div>What?!?!?</div><div>I was thirsty.......and it was her money not mine.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm technically still Mickey D free right?</div><div><br /></div><div>:-D</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-42204949863468969212009-10-12T14:12:00.000-07:002009-10-12T16:35:39.674-07:00Teetering<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIj5q-u7JQJWPeMFDmUgyrQIRfV1x7jcfIp0FyXkWMAycpEvC2lukroGORnvIuMy7O6ZXPehWCbKQ6RAQJFTQY8SCVjNPx1TUTIoyujApw0VMl51IUiJe3vj8Oa15UQs6AhygoJ478tc8/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 88px; height: 119px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIj5q-u7JQJWPeMFDmUgyrQIRfV1x7jcfIp0FyXkWMAycpEvC2lukroGORnvIuMy7O6ZXPehWCbKQ6RAQJFTQY8SCVjNPx1TUTIoyujApw0VMl51IUiJe3vj8Oa15UQs6AhygoJ478tc8/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391829335065827202" /></a><br />So I have written 3 blogs on the state of my current emotional state over the past few months that I have not published.<div><br /></div><div>And for my own safety, I don't think I will.</div><div><br /></div><div>If I publish them some people might want to commit me to a psychiatric ward.</div><div><br /></div><div>HA!</div><div><br /></div><div>I always used to say that having 3 kids would send me over the edge.</div><div><br /></div><div>And some days I teeter there hanging by a thin thread of sanity.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's not easy, especially with my hormones continuing to surge up, down, and all around.</div><div> Some days are great! and others are just plain hard leaving me in tears. But I know it's only temporary.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's why I am thankful for all my friends that are patient with me, with family that helps when they can, and for a husband that goes above and beyond his call of duty.</div><div><br /></div><div>On another note.......I don't think having a handful of peanut butter filled pretzels is called a healthy lunch.</div><div> </div><div>I blame it on the hormones.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-66427418031341362222009-10-08T16:08:00.001-07:002009-10-08T16:08:31.268-07:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZW0M3pY4xFnE4N07I-KhuGTTyAELd-L9WSKbO3JJkeN1SxxSNcCDS73WQV0Z_j6wZowctK1tMxNUTtzmyyBdmoS-Ur2DziOhsdA_cXjavCBefy20K7EmgxEoxWImsdpRKXc4arbAySCw/s1600-h/photo-711269.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZW0M3pY4xFnE4N07I-KhuGTTyAELd-L9WSKbO3JJkeN1SxxSNcCDS73WQV0Z_j6wZowctK1tMxNUTtzmyyBdmoS-Ur2DziOhsdA_cXjavCBefy20K7EmgxEoxWImsdpRKXc4arbAySCw/s320/photo-711269.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390369977917461026" /></a></p>Sometimes Mommy makes me wear silly things on my head for her <br>entertainment.The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-41007949397935721642009-09-24T13:24:00.000-07:002009-09-24T13:37:41.835-07:00Bad Habit<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7iGTAezCEuvJnrutTT2-p5sLS3Yl9tkcff13z5wbLUtzDrH6kjQ5BVmAbjbNH2H_ICmZjYaJFiF3DKAqvtNlOGFwAB3sHFTrr2yMiwEwfLPqfkgOXuR0mlk0ytkUKJvEtjh6AYuzdsc/s1600-h/procrastination1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 338px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7iGTAezCEuvJnrutTT2-p5sLS3Yl9tkcff13z5wbLUtzDrH6kjQ5BVmAbjbNH2H_ICmZjYaJFiF3DKAqvtNlOGFwAB3sHFTrr2yMiwEwfLPqfkgOXuR0mlk0ytkUKJvEtjh6AYuzdsc/s400/procrastination1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385135892170819042" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>When I am overwhelmed and tired I procrastinate. <div><br /></div><div>I should be doing lots of other things right now.</div><div>I should be</div><div><br /></div><div>cleaning.</div><div>organizing.</div><div>planning</div><div>paying bills</div><div>going to the bank</div><div>calling back friends</div><div><br /></div><div>but all I want to do is fall on the couch and watch a movie....</div><div>Some people call it laziness......I call it coping.</div><div><br /></div><div>only a 1/2 hr till Little Wes wakes up....not enough time to watch a movie.</div><div><br /></div><div>cue sad face.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll need to find a another way to cope with stress</div><div>or maybe I'll just watch my movies in pieces.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yep...sad but true.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-21658638306722634072009-09-19T17:01:00.000-07:002009-09-19T17:24:52.495-07:00Good vs. Evil.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">In the eyes of Wesley this is <b>EVIL</b>......</div><div><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCEG8_-mTV5rI-doihMPBmXcestKXV-DxXoqJz0lw59SCqqP7miApENQoVduV6rmGLaN-h_0vMm9vUPgQ3u5kQPwJPIEfeQQxSF15rj9Uv99FCXlVSkggBZHdBFzN3fgdPQV_6Ik-ZxVk/s200/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383338407750323282" /><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">......and this is <b>GOOD</b>.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ4owPLPMiykVKO0bZNOI0ur6QK6YbEHhT-lgyCaaVOxMhyysyqxlP3IzW7weMTEw-WQ4mJQ0mMH8YFn1s4VY0BcqamqkTSQ4b2TkBbPQQhD1SwFqjiEOEOU21ZFQW93XvbXoSRe5lpcc/s200/photo-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383338105000118290" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Again....</span></b>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>GOOD</b> = not only interested in food but eating food and smiling.</div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbKDNKtAV0K7c62lqvuH-W-njHAs3FxuXDeF3yaj98vyT6ZNp5RO01wBO3Ew4iXuLD104OxvPltzHk74TPM2DZVSGCGfE3mOnAzKP8DPFT3ogGxXZYs13XH2FVDA0jZySQjkw4GrlJmmc/s200/photo-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383337992885539074" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">While <b>EVIL</b> leads to disinterest, crying, no eating and ultimately not sleeping cuz he's still hungry.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwEl8H2LvYQjx0p5oiJgN_Q8C8z00nDAzjNyZrBeFdVvyTDVyeRYRzxS9mzzQ7FsoaVuNkvxAWqNVw3xrbgbcZcoKNu8lb2uT4svlWQsldW32O5bhyphenhypheneW0qlj_IkKVmjGzYDvMhRK6cx_w/s200/photo-4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383337561113123282" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The blue highchair was given to us......</div><div><br /></div><div>I bought the "happy" chair as it is now called at Ikea for $25.</div><div><br /></div><div>And It's worth.</div><div><br /></div><div> Every. </div><div><br /></div><div>Penny.</div></div></div>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-17423231605391650022009-09-19T09:09:00.000-07:002009-09-19T09:14:22.545-07:00Pure Entertainment<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>If you are looking for some light, fun and daily entertainment.<div>Check out my hubby's <a href="http://lashedtoamast.blogspot.com/">blog</a>. He's doing a cleanse.</div><div><br /></div><div>yea...a cleanse.</div><div><br /></div><div>and he is blogging everyday about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>It makes me giggle smile.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>But then again I am biased.</div><div><br /></div><div>Head on over <a href="http://lashedtoamast.blogspot.com/">here</a> to see if t makes you laugh too.</div><div><br /></div><div>Because anyone who looks like this for their profile picture has to be funny.</div><div><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH399Wx893yfcK5eRNtyLzmapvSZm3Bst8mcepS0LccNPPvHMIPiFBKFIuZ620N31dY-kMRf-4vPW9yuuBtUVauP16gbdvJbc7M17bGeefau7Vd5dzJB1D6JFIRFockXfSvNx3KxLN8qI/s400/pastorp.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383212319631467778" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-85919232912457992712009-09-17T15:49:00.000-07:002009-09-17T15:56:25.355-07:00When life gets you down.....<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>this always makes me feel better......<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 70px; height: 127px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN6QaLCN1x6KKVBBVan2flo6SNVo1NReN2oDM6jhFNCVKFqMFH3o6Hl-yLY4hWptuXIBvGriH6YlYF-IcmJDkcxqL0SFioLYYjul27MGWv5ckJIl7W_TzHIrCwPikI9s6C74lth-TjJNE/s400/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382573635698960770" />The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-33585214985843339482009-09-06T12:17:00.000-07:002009-09-10T20:45:22.589-07:00Choosing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaX7uXFpSdOIa6fHWsFhf2USKHKc_4peW6QYMCmA2651Qky4QVWUTEvSkQEzunJKHWLa6W99rHwCFWEUOFrm7YqgUveguc2wcWFuWY33Xug9Jrvh9-4czJe_FlTZDquIXCkwS3tjIWk5A/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 123px; height: 83px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaX7uXFpSdOIa6fHWsFhf2USKHKc_4peW6QYMCmA2651Qky4QVWUTEvSkQEzunJKHWLa6W99rHwCFWEUOFrm7YqgUveguc2wcWFuWY33Xug9Jrvh9-4czJe_FlTZDquIXCkwS3tjIWk5A/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380049106078440130" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Times;font-size:medium;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">While in church on Sunday we sang the song, "Made to Worship" by Chris Tomlin. It's a great song and I always get a little choked up singing it. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(okay......SO I get choked up singing a lot of songs...I'm an emotional person, what can I say?)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The chorus always gets me and i never really thought deeply about why it does...until today.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Here's why...</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Over the summer I have been thinking a lot about why people decide to all of a sudden stop going to church....or even why they stop going to one church and go to another (but that's another post).</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Let's face it ...there will always be excuses of why people stop going to church. And I hear A LOT of them. Being a pastor's wife, people sometimes think I am the church police and feel like they need to explain why they weren't at church on Sunday.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">and sometimes it bothers me. It bothers me because it's not my job to take roll. Heck...there are times when I don't want to go to church...and GASP! there are even times when I don't go because I need a break from "church".</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> And actually, I don't think God takes roll either. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Going to church isn't about going because it makes us better people and we know we should go. It's not about wearing cute outfits and getting our cool cups of coffee. Neither is church about getting our fill for the week and getting God's Word ingrained into our hearts.....its about so much more.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">These lyrics to me explain why we go to church.....</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"You and I were made to worship<br />You and I are called to love<br />You and I are forgiven and free<br />You and I embrace surrender<br />You and I choose to believe<br />You and I will see who we were meant to be"</span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">If you believe in God....then you believe he created you. God created humanity to worship Him and to love others.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">These lyrics aren't pertaining to "church" but Church CAN (if done the right way) be a great place to do that. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">...but it's your choice to go.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">it's your choice to worship</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It's your choice to love others and be in community with others</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">No matter how many excuses one gives.....or how big the excuse is.....it's a choice.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I know what I choose....and even on the days I don't wanna...I still choose it.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Because thats where I feel most me.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Times, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Times, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Times, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-23500476359941973782009-08-27T14:24:00.001-07:002009-08-27T14:24:56.673-07:00Not so cold<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivKaWNnQcOy5RVrcIWEUottt4cozoT9CWqIYfuoAgRoxqt3DwGLChSLKFAHC93QoRYy3CjaTp90s54QYClz9iCnI1ZJ_wnUz3jOl2wCqk2C2kLAGlsDeXjVz0axqQWLomMTHY50Sz-Chs/s1600-h/photo-796675.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivKaWNnQcOy5RVrcIWEUottt4cozoT9CWqIYfuoAgRoxqt3DwGLChSLKFAHC93QoRYy3CjaTp90s54QYClz9iCnI1ZJ_wnUz3jOl2wCqk2C2kLAGlsDeXjVz0axqQWLomMTHY50Sz-Chs/s320/photo-796675.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374757709159978642" /></a></p>Jeremiah just slid down the water slide. Water is a bit cold... But <br>not so cold he came out with a smile on his face. It's a shame he's <br>not having fun.The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-26214735085182057582009-08-26T23:16:00.001-07:002009-08-26T23:16:48.885-07:00We love Big Bear<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivDPSupc2JpdxWa87Ge9Kvodu3MQZB6erwF_DZru8JqLnczKO4SJeXmue7S7HaDgTzf5bsTAMODeZI5LRLgLx1qv8zHLWbptBpHvJFUsys267jxlsPUIYMn3GKCl1YDPnPy7Slsb6_Sjo/s1600-h/photo-708887.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivDPSupc2JpdxWa87Ge9Kvodu3MQZB6erwF_DZru8JqLnczKO4SJeXmue7S7HaDgTzf5bsTAMODeZI5LRLgLx1qv8zHLWbptBpHvJFUsys267jxlsPUIYMn3GKCl1YDPnPy7Slsb6_Sjo/s320/photo-708887.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374523684211141106" /></a></p>Here is a shot of Big Bear Lake as we chairlift at Alpine Slides. It <br>was a glorious day and I can't help but be full of awe that we get to <br>visit such a peaceful place.The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-22245271946962567372009-08-26T23:12:00.001-07:002009-08-26T23:12:55.413-07:00A Happy Swimmer<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCkXA722IXGIQMyt6xulRLxtx0Fm-ItPikTfcHkN2XzdndAAVqRd6dMLe9koYKrxxyp8at7iSDz4503RYPnm3SVU8-XmWSnHPuWGCbZnr13yRCKbfvjuBMotkvVsahJvcHnoIw6QJ0rpQ/s1600-h/photo-775415.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCkXA722IXGIQMyt6xulRLxtx0Fm-ItPikTfcHkN2XzdndAAVqRd6dMLe9koYKrxxyp8at7iSDz4503RYPnm3SVU8-XmWSnHPuWGCbZnr13yRCKbfvjuBMotkvVsahJvcHnoIw6QJ0rpQ/s320/photo-775415.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374522684257693858" /></a></p>This is my first time posting with a picture so I hope it comes out ok.<p>Here is Riley Girl happily swimming with Wes. He loves the water.... <br>Even though you can't tell by his face.The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-65119293535916194012009-08-26T20:14:00.001-07:002009-08-26T20:14:54.392-07:00Not in the U.S?While in conversation, Riley argued,<br>" We aren't in the United States, we are in Big Bear. "<br>Then after being told we were in the US, she argued, " well we aren't <br>in California either, we are in big bear. "<p>" Riley, Big Bear is in California. "<p>"Ohhhh. "<p>Looks like we need to work on her geometry. ;-)<br>Sent from my iPhoneThe Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-63532762244263736272009-08-22T11:17:00.000-07:002009-08-22T11:52:24.636-07:00Two Weeks Away<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>So my 21st elementary school reunion is in 2 weeks.<div><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 152px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEVeBzC7TU7ylRGupZOlK_4UKQfBXjMD-0f5habOUucf5h1HpFuqBvD79xBKnZLrSpT9BXxDr8hD3Gw1piDuwanNhm74ySmBI2Y5aVqb_z4eTjGFUJKtK57WXj5212Jn2X7SnGYoq4hHE/s200/3287_75955267298_550597298_1579467_553947_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372862885752667602" /><div><br /></div><div>Now before you question the 21st and balk at the idea of an elementary school reunion...lemme explain.</div><div><br /></div><div>I went to a Catholic School. Yep..I was a catholic school girl all in plaid....but I wasn't naughty like Britney Spears.....bitchy maybe...but not naughty. </div><div>I went to school with the same people for 8 years! That's longer than high school and longer than my college years. So although there were times we were all sick of each other and we couldn't wait to get out of Holy Family......there were times that we were like family (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">a lot</span> of love & hate).</div><div>My fellow Spartans were a huge part of my life and I have always been sad that I didn't do a better job of keeping in touch with them after we left <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">HFS</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>So with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Facebook</span> exploding and so many people joining many of us were able to reconnect. We were having a ton of fun reminiscing on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">FB</span> that a reunion was mentioned.......and now it's 9 months later and only two weeks away. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am really looking forward to it...but I am also, I must admit, ...a little nervous.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am worried about none of the things that I thought I would be worried about.</div><div><br /></div><div>If I were in my twenties and kid-less.....I would be probably already thinking about what I would wear...and my dress size. I would be eating less to lose those extra 5 pounds to look fit and toned.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I haven't even thought about those things. To prove it.....I'll tell you that I ate bacon and cinnamon rolls for breakfast. Now that's a girl not worried about an extra 5 pounds!</div><div><br /></div><div>But I am just a tad bit nervous for other reasons. I feel like I am such a different person than I was 20 years ago.....but also the same. I still have that "will they like me?" insecurity. Even more, there are things that i am not proud of....how I treated someone, something I said....or what I didn't do. Why wasn't I nice to her/him?</div><div>I'm nervous people will only remember the bad.....</div><div><br /></div><div>But I am also hopeful and excited. I have forgotten many things and its fun to be reminded....or to learn the secrets that you never knew before.</div><div><br /></div><div>Because when I think about my time at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">HFS</span> I realize that there's a deep love there. I may not have always liked everyone.....but I do love them and it will be fun to see how they have grown and changed and become who they are now.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know..... cheesy right?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6685491653269313922.post-74566203299373969242009-08-19T20:50:00.000-07:002009-08-19T21:02:18.125-07:00Guilt<div style="text-align: left;">I'm feeling it......</div><div><br /></div><div>I have made the decision and it's unthinkable.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I could try and change my mind....then the feeling of guilt wouldn't lay so heavy on me, but I just can't do it.</div><div><br /></div><div>It started out with a simple excuse...I couldn't find my blender....but then I found my blender and the reality sunk in.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I just don't have the energy to do it....so I'm not.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b>So instead of this </b></span></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0aS-ZU6RxYWDwHaWnv_mVJ3WPQ8mEANqmyUBYSpn8MgWK7v9J9ArCO4BwIm0YKYl22OCadQOmT5U3oOFyUipQWzWzmy-GnVRahT6tVQR5BOO1UHDPK4-0oygMt2SrRo5_DFsobZfL-Y/s200/fresh_fruit__vegetables260225834_std.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371890807702001234" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><b>my baby is getting this....</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWIa-7HSfXp9ipEkWfrn-9LI-bPQLwMKGa5chKvjU7so_ahYk27nF8q4_kxusiy5a1dI6wsexKGQNH4jFsLDvpPpsVzGa0qOfzN_REwKo2viE0mdn7eVyS_r4T8vhZUebM46e4FkX_spM/s200/02392320002.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371891111626935474" /></div>The Unlikely Pastor's Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06299720318570154628noreply@blogger.com10