tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41242025780534024162024-03-14T08:41:45.191-05:00Travelers TogetherDonald and Melody: Two lives united in friendship,
Two friends united in love,
One love united in Christ.
God has led two to take one path
and travel together
as they press toward the mark of the prize
of the high calling of God, in Christ Jesus.MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-79109223149606119492013-06-28T22:28:00.000-05:002013-06-28T22:28:19.998-05:00Announcing...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUDPX5viCw5IwQdGWs61e1E-NTumRkf-WhUULpLdxVrrr7e0CC56suvaGiNauTRW3raKpHpDnjABPIzhTINN-QZl5RMrZS45X7Cx-nlMnENwDfHMMt7T9T2apNkE04MOuwIJ3YRriN4c/s1600/Arrows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUDPX5viCw5IwQdGWs61e1E-NTumRkf-WhUULpLdxVrrr7e0CC56suvaGiNauTRW3raKpHpDnjABPIzhTINN-QZl5RMrZS45X7Cx-nlMnENwDfHMMt7T9T2apNkE04MOuwIJ3YRriN4c/s320/Arrows.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We are very excited!!! :-D<br />
<br />
(And, once again, I apologize for the severe lack of updated posts on this blog.)MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-49453034873159360302013-01-22T21:40:00.004-06:002013-01-22T21:40:41.707-06:00Another Writing Prompt :-)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Writing Prompt #8 - We are all surrounded by gadgets. If your favorite one
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Stephen didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he
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could crawl into his 3-year-old daughter’s head to know what she was thinking!
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I want to make a cake for Daddy’s birthday. I can
use my play-dough to make it! And I can put M&Ms in it too. Yummy! Ok, it’s
mixed together. But it’s a big ball…I need it to be flat. Where is Mommy’s
rolling pin? Oh dear. I can’t find it. Ooooh, look, there is Daddy’s cool thing
with the neat buttons on it. If I open it up and put my play-dough in it, I can
close it, and then it will smash flat. Oh, goody! It worked! Now I have a
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Stephen groaned again as he looked at his laptop,
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh, the joys of parenthood,” he sighed, before
bursting into another fit of crying laughter.</span></div>
MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-48123361546102859952013-01-18T20:34:00.001-06:002013-01-18T20:34:16.346-06:00Writing Prompt #6--The Stars<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Writing Prompt <b><i>#6</i></b><i>. Choose an object in the
room. How would you describe it to a blind person?</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">“My, the stars are lovely
tonight,” commented Elizabeth to her husband as they and their daughter sat on
their porch one evening. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">5 year old Molly grabbed
her mother’s hand, saying, “Mommy, what are stars?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Tears formed in
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could never see nor truly appreciate the beauty that she herself took for
granted. She scrambled in her mind for a way to describe them to Molly.
Inspiration suddenly lit up her eyes, and she rose quickly, saying, “Just one
moment, Molly, and I shall describe them to you.” And with that, she hurried
into the house.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">A few minutes later, she
returned, laying something in Molly’s lap as she did so. “Feel this, Molly.
This is a fabric called velvet. It is black—every bit as black as the darkness
you see daily.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">“Oh, Mommy, it’s so
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">“Yes, dear, it is soft.
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asked Elizabeth, as Molly eagerly explored her mother’s ring. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">“Yes, Mommy.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">“That is called a
diamond. It is a precious and valuable jewel—something that costs a great deal.
It symbolizes your father’s love for me. Well, my child, the stars are just
like the velvet and my diamond. Imagine the world blanketed in black velvet.
Now envision thousands upon thousands of my diamonds sprinkled across it—each
one beautiful beyond description, and each one a symbol of the great love of
God. That, my child, is the night sky.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">“Oh, Mommy,” breathed
Molly, “How beautiful that must be. I can’t wait to see it someday.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Tears filled Elizabeth’s
eyes, and she replied, “My dear child, I am afraid you will never see them. The
first thing you will ever see will be the face of Jesus. And once you see His
face, you will never see night or blackness again.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">A smile illumined Molly’s
face as she turned her face upward and said, “Oh, that is far better, Mommy.”
And with that hope, she remained content. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div>
MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-82885474693825005072013-01-18T20:31:00.005-06:002013-01-18T20:31:34.448-06:00Writing Prompt #5<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<b><i>Here is something else that I wrote as a part of my brother's 30 days of writing prompts. </i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<b><i>#5:</i></b><i> Choose a common
or menial task with which you are familiar. Try to describe it to your reader
in a fun/interesting way, or possibly shed new light on something mundane.</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Tears streamed down Kathleen’s face. “I just can’t get it right!” she
sobbed. As she sat, curled against her favorite tree in the forest, her mind
recalled the woeful events that had led her here. Kathleen, the prettiest girl
in her village, had early captured the interest and love of the local young carpenter,
Shawn. They soon wed, and thus, at the age of 19, she became the mistress of
her own home.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Beautiful, witty, kind, and compassionate, Kathleen seemed to have it
all…or so it appeared. She lacked but one thing. Raised from her infancy by her
widower father, the motherless girl knew nothing about the fine arts of cooking.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">For the first few months of Kathleen and Shawn’s marriage, they
literally lived on love alone. But soon, the concrete biscuits, burned eggs,
and charcoal bacon began to wear on him. He was a carpenter, after all! He
needed more than burnt offerings for sustenance. Soon, try as he might, he
could no longer keep his complaints to himself, and his grumbling turned into
roaring. Kathleen felt disgraced and displeased with herself. What was her
beauty and charm if she could not cook?</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">The day before this, she had purchased a roast from the butcher, purposing
that she would attempt to make her husband’s favorite dish: pot roast. He loved
that meal, and continually talked about how his mother always cooked it for
him. Kathleen just knew she could do it if she tried hard enough. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">But alas! The meat resembled beef jerky, the carrots were shriveled,
and the potatoes charred on the edges. Her husband made a valiant effort to eat
the meal, but he soon pushed back his plate, exclaiming, “How do you expect me
to eat this stuff, woman!?”and stormed out of the house. The next morning, this
scene was again repeated with her scorched bacon and eggs. Kathleen could take
no more, so burst into tears, ran out the back door, and into the forest,
falling at the base of her favorite tree. How long she cried there, she had no
way of telling. But, suddenly, she heard a soft voice saying, “What ails you,
my child?”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">Kathleen blinked through her tears, and, looking up, she beheld an
older woman with a jovial face and a slightly rotund, matronly figure which
heavily bespoke of her enjoyment of the culinary arts. The stranger repeated
herself, “What ails you, child? What causes you to cry so?” </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">“I…c-can’t…c-cook! And my…husband…is d-displeased…with me!” sobbed
Kathleen. “Last night, I tried…to m-make him…his…favorite d-dish, b-but the
roast…was as…t-tough…as j-jerky! And this m-morning I b-burned…his b-breakfast!”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">“Oh, my poor child. Do you have no mother to teach you? Ahh, I thought
not,” said the stranger in answer to Kathleen’s sorrowful shake of her head.
“Well, come, my child, I will teach you how to make a roast that will make your
man’s mouth water.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">And so saying, she led Kathleen to her house, which lay in a small
clearing in the center of the forest. Once there, she brought Kathleen into the
kitchen, and pulled out an oval shaped pot with buttons on it. “This,” she
explained, “Is the housewife’s best friend. It is called a crockpot. I have two
of these, so will let you take this one home with you for now. Now, let us
begin.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">“First, you peel about 4 large carrots, and then chop them up into
roughly 1 ½ inch chunks, like this. Next, we chop 4-5 red potatoes—again, into
rather large chunks (if you like, you may substitute 1 large sweet potato for
about 2 of the regular potatoes for added flavor). Then, we chop an onion. Now
we toss all this into the bottom of the pot,” said the kindly woman,
demonstrating it to the distraught young wife.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">“Now,” said she, “We will get out my frying pan, put a tablespoon of
garlic in it, and turn the stove on to medium-high heat. Then we will place the
roast in the pan, and brown it evenly on all sides, like so. Now take the roast
and put it on top of the vegetables in the crockpot. Finally, here are 15 ounce
cans of sauerkraut, stewed tomatoes, and beef broth. Pour them on top of the
roast. Then, place the lid on the pot, and cook on high for 5-6 hours or on low
for 8-10 hours. And, ta-da! You have a roast that will fall apart in your
husband’s mouth.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">And so saying, she handed the crockpot to the grateful young wife, with
instructions to come back for cooking lessons anytime she desired. Kathleen
hurried home and turned on the crockpot. That night, when Shawn came home, a
succulent dinner awaited him. The delight with which he greeted this meal can
scarcely be described. Let me just say that Kathleen learned that day that the
way to a man’s heart truly is through his stomach.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">And they lived happily ever after. The End. </span></div>
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MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-69392165858948321702013-01-09T09:26:00.001-06:002013-01-09T09:26:45.794-06:00A story from my archives...I was going through some old stories I had written and found this one. As it is one of my favorite ones, I thought I would share it on my blog.<br />
<br />
<span><b>My Cross</b><br /><br />Based upon a dream I had on March 24, 2007.<br /><br />“I
am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ
liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the
faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me”
(Galatians 2:20).<br /><br />I tossed restlessly to and fro as I drifted in
and out of sleep. Tonight, it was not merely the pain of a back injury
that prevented me from sleeping well, but the terrifying nature of my
dream as well. Dear reader, in this story, I will try to portray the
nature of this nightmare in a way that, I hope and pray, you will not
soon forget. Dear reader, take heed and beware, for this is the vision
my mind’s eye beheld.<br /><br />Terror—Evil—Darkness: Islam.<br /><br />The
followers of Islam ruled the world. Their corrupt doctrine and hatred
penetrated the core of every government. America, too, had fallen prey
to its voracious and consuming nature.<br /><br />You may ask, “How did this
happen? Where are the Christians?” Well, my dear friend, let me tell
you. The majority of the Christians of America had allowed the world to
seep into their lives. They had become so much like the world that they
no longer shown as lights in the darkness—they had lost the savor of
their salt. This led to their failure to rise up and take a stand
against evil and elect godly leaders for their nation. They tolerated
abortion and the “gay rights” movement. They failed to lead others to
Christ. In essence, they had become Christians who warmed a pew on
Sunday and then lived like the world the rest of the week. Those who
sincerely followed the Lord with their whole heart were much persecuted
and few in number.<br /><br />Thus, God began His judgment of the nation
with the house of God (1 Peter 4:17). Sickness, marital problems, and
financial pressures plagued the majority of God’s people. Yet still they
did not turn from their wicked ways and seek His face. Therefore,
America was given corrupt leaders who scorned God’s people and abhorred
His ways. America ceased their support of Israel, and thus the economy
suffered a collapse. (Ps. 122:6). The holy name of the Lord was removed
from society. Soon, Christians who openly declared their faith were
imprisoned and often martyred. Those who remained loyal to the name of
Christ went into hiding. America—now destitute of righteousness—then
fell prey to the ravenous, yet subtle beast of Islam.<br /><br />It snuck in
quietly and without much observation. It began with a few Muslims
penetrating the Congress, and then inhabiting the White House. These
Muslim leaders outlawed Christianity and proclaimed their faith the
national religion—declaring death to all who opposed them. Hearing that
many Christians had gone undercover, they developed an organization in
which they trained men and women in the basic tenets of Christianity and
sent them out into the streets to find the believers and penetrate and
destroy the heart of Christendom. Unfortunately, the varying levels of
spiritual maturity (i.e., mediocre and lukewarm, passive, vibrant and
passionate) made it difficult for the believers to discern the
difference between friend and foe. Thus, many Christians fell captive to
the wolves in sheep’s clothing.<br /><br />All this, I perceived to be the state of the nation in my dream.<br /><br />I
then beheld that I was one of those who had not denied Christ’s name
nor bowed knee to Allah. I had lived in hiding for many years with my
family, and often made escapades with other believers into the cities in
our area at night, where we would leave Scripture pamphlets and Bibles
in public areas—praying that God would bless our efforts and bring souls
to Him. These activities enraged the authorities and doubled their
efforts to find and destroy the “Christ-followers.”<br /><br />One night, as
I sat closeted in my room reading my Bible by candlelight, I heard
banging and screaming. Startled, I hurriedly closed my Bible, stuffed it
into a secret pouch in my skirt, and blew out the candle. No sooner had
I done this, than a foot rammed through my door, reducing it to
splinters. There, standing before me, were the Muslim Secret Police. The
Captain, while glaring at me, hissed from the side of his mouth, “Is
this her?”<br /><br />A woman—standing in the shadows—said, “Yes, Captain.
It is her.” As she said this, she came slowly forward, and kissed me on
the cheek. As I caught sight of her face, I reeled and nearly fell to
the floor. “No…it cannot be…” My mind struggled to comprehend this
betrayal.<br /><br />“Sorry, my dear,” she sneered. “But Allah pays better than the God of the Christians.”<br /><br />I
was stunned! This woman! I had known her and considered her a fellow
believer and friend! Yet she had just betrayed me to the enemy? And for
what? Money? A wave of sickness passed over me, and tears slowly began
coursing their way down my face. “May God forgive you,” I gasped.<br /><br />A rag was pressed over my mouth and nose, and I soon lost all consciousness to the sickly sweet smell of chloroform.<br /><br />Darkness.<br /><br />Dim
light, a musty smell, a sour voice—these things dawned upon my
returning senses. “Where am I?” I opened my eyes and waited for my
vision to clear. I glanced down to find myself sitting on a wooden pew.
Then I noticed that pews filled the entire length and breadth of the
room—some overturned. A raised platform stood at one end of the room
with the splintered remains of a pulpit lying scattered across it.
Shards of stained glass windows lay strewn across the room. Torn,
beaten, and battered hymnals and Bibles filled the aisles. Blood stains
covered the carpeting and woodwork.<br /><br />“An abandoned church?” I spoke my thought aloud. It was then that I realized I was not alone.<br /><br />“Yesss,
an abandoned church,” hissed the sour voice. I looked behind me to find
the cruel captain’s face leering at me. “Precisely. You are an
intelligent woman. As are the rest of your ‘brethren,’ as I believe you
call each other.” With this, he gestured behind him, where I saw that
truly, I was not alone. Men and women—of varying ages—sat or lay on many
of the pews, about thirty in number. All looked dazed, as if they, too,
had just awakened from a chloroform induced state.<br /><br />“This church
once had a large outreach, and numerous decisions to serve and follow
your God were made here,” enumerated the captain. “Today, we will again
use this building to make decisions about God. Today, all of you here
must decide whom you will serve—Allah or the One you call Jesus Christ.
Your predecessors in this building have made fortunate decisions, and
some not so fortunate decisions.” As he said this last statement, he
glanced pointedly at the blood stains on the carpet.<br /><br />Someone spoke from the back of the room, “And if we choose Christ?”<br /><br />“Then you will die,” stated the captain with an evil glint in his eyes.<br /><br />A
tremor went down my spine, and terror filled my soul. But lo, I heard a
Voice whisper to my heart, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.
I, the Lord your God am your helper. Do not fear what man shall do unto
you.” Peace and calm flooded my soul, removing the terror.<br /><br />“Lord,
I am yours. I do not fear what man can do unto me,” my heart whispered
in reply. The Holy Spirit then descended on me in all His power and
instructed me what to say. “Captain, may I say something to you and my
brothers and sisters here in reply to your demand?”<br /><br />The captain grudgingly assented.<br /><br />“Captain,
and dear ones in Christ, we have been given a choice here today—a
choice between life and death. Therefore, I plead with you, choose
life!” The captain smiled in agreement, and a few of the believers
frowned at me. Looking at the captain, I asked, “May I continue?” He
nodded his head.<br /><br />“My dear brethren, I am already a dead person.
For, when I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, I died. I can
say with Paul, ‘I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not
I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I
live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for
me.’ These men can only kill my mortal body—a body that I died to years
ago. However, my spirit—which is eternal—shall live with Christ for all
eternity. I do not fear death, for what can death do to me? It shall
only hasten me in my journey to that Celestial City.”<br /><br />“The death I
fear is not a physical death, but a spiritual death. Should I renounce
Christ and serve Allah, then I would die spiritually. For he who will
save his own life will lose it, but he who loses his life for Christ’s
sake shall save it. The Lord has set before us this day life and death. I
therefore choose physical death and life with Christ—for to depart and
live with Christ is far better than to renounce Christ and live another
second in a world governed by Satan. Brethren, choose life…”<br /><br />A
stunning blow to my mouth from the captain’s fist ended my speech. I
smiled wryly, as blood poured from my mouth, and said, “Thank you,
Lord.” A startled look appeared in the captain’s eyes for a brief moment
and then disappeared as quickly as it had come. More blood gushed from
my mouth as I haltingly said again, “Thank you, Lord.” Then turning to
the captain, I said, “You may wonder why I am thanking my Lord for this
cruel and unjust blow, but I am rejoicing that I am counted worthy to
suffer for His name’s sake.”<br /><br />Anger flooded his face, and he
rammed his fist into my rib cage. I felt my ribs give way, and a sharp
pain in my chest informed me that they had probably punctured a lung and
that I had internal bleeding. I found that I was no longer able to
stand, and fell to the pew, silenced and gasping for breath. Tears
poured from my eyes as the pain grew agonizing.<br /><br />A triumphant
gleam appeared in the captain’s eyes. Grabbing me by my arm and forcing
me to stand, he ordered the others in the room to stand also. “Follow
me, and you will see where your mistaken faith in Christ leads you!” he
barked.<br /><br />Dragging me from the room, he led everyone outside, where
an electric fence encircled the church and a neighboring field. A
breeze of wind brought a terrible stench with it. Looking around me, I
perceived an area behind the church stacked with the corpses of martyrs.
However, my attention was jerked back to the field before us as the
captain and his underlings herded us in that direction. What was this?
Crosses? Was my instrument of death to be the same as my Lord’s?<br /><br />The
captain glared at me, and then pointed to the crosses. “Is your faith
strong enough for this? Will you die as your God died?”<br /><br />“No…my
faith…is not…strong enough,” I gasped, “But…His is. I live…by
the…faith...of the Son…of God….He died…on a cross…for me. I will…die on
a…cross…for Him.”<br /><br />His look grew fierce and angry, and he shoved
me roughly to the ground. He then turned to the others, and yelled, “She
refuses to renounce her God and therefore will die as her God died—on a
cross! Will the rest of you join her in death, or will you renounce
your Jesus and bow your knees to Allah and live? If you choose to die,
then step forward.”<br /><br />Ten—only ten—out of the thirty stepped
forward, saying, “We will never worship Allah and count it a privilege
to die as our Lord died.”<br /><br />“Fools!” exclaimed the captain. “Officers, take them to their deaths!”<br /><br />As
the armed officers of the law came forward to seize their victims, the
Spirit again impressed me to speak—a thing that I did with much
difficulty, for breathing had become difficult, as my punctured lung
slowly filled with blood. “Brethren…our Lord…went to…His cross
willing…willingly. Let us…do…also.” And so saying, I painfully rose to
my feet, and with faltering steps, made my way to a cross and lay down
upon it. To the amazement and consternation of all present, my ten
fellow believers followed suit.<br /><br />“Nail them to their cross!” ordered the captain.<br /><br />I
felt hands grabbing my arm, pulling my hand towards the end of the
cross. Something cold, metallic, and sharp pressed into my palm. BANG!
BANG! The hammer strokes fell, and a long spike was driven into my hand.
Shafts of pain shot up my arm. Now the other arm was pulled. “Oh Lord,
help me to bear it! Give me grace!” Again, something metallic pressed
into my hand. Again, a clanging sound flooded my ears. More pain shot up
my arm, joining the pain of the other arm.<br /><br />Hands are on my
legs—causing them to bend at the knee, removing my shoes, and placing
one foot atop another. Something cold and metallic—thicker than the
others—pressed into my foot. More clanging. Pain shot up both legs. Oh
the pain! The sheer agony!<br /><br />“Lord, you did this for me? Oh what love divine! They did not even whip me as they whipped you…”<br /><br />A
pulling, scraping sound—the cross rises into the air. I am now
suspended in midair, hanging from a wooden beam—held fast by the nails
piercing my hands and my feet. My arms are pulled taunt. I cannot
breathe unless I push upward with my legs. The pain caused by pushing
upward with my pierced feet is an indescribable torture. I slowly rotate
my head. Ten other crosses stood next to mine—each with a faithful
witness nailed to it.<br /><br />I pushed upward and gathered a painful breath. “Brethren! Remem…Remember Christ!”<br /><br />Ten more believers stepped forward, declared their faith in Christ, and walked to their cross.<br /><br />I heard a voice. “Sing, Melody, sing!” it urged.<br /><br />Words
came to my mind. Temporary breath came to my lungs. I sang slowly, with
many gasps for breath. But I sang with all my heart and remaining
strength.<br /><br />“I have decided to follow Jesus.<br />I have decided to follow Jesus.<br />I have decided to follow Jesus.<br />No turning back, no turning back.”<br /><br />Voices from neighboring crosses joined mine.<br />A hush fell over the field as we continued our song—twenty-one voices strong.<br /><br />“Though none go with me, still I will follow.<br />Though none go with me, still I will follow.<br />Though none go with me, still I will follow.<br />No turning back, no turning back.”<br /><br />The remaining ten stepped forward and began singing.<br /><br />“The world behind me, the cross before me.<br />The world behind me, the cross before me.<br />The world behind me, the cross before me.<br />No turning back, no turning back.”<br /><br />Thirty-one crosses now stood, raised to the sky.<br /><br />A
horrific pain sliced through my lungs and heart. I heard the voice
again. “Not much longer, my child. Not much longer. You will soon be
with me.”<br /><br />I pushed upward for another breath. Then I cried,
“Amazing love…that Christ…should die…on the cross…for…a…worm…like me.”
One more breath—my last one, and one more cry: “Jesus…I’m…coming home!”
My chest collapsed. My breath departed. Darkness fell upon me.<br /><br />A
voice. “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and
through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest
through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame
kindle upon thee. For I am the LORD thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy
Saviour.”<br /><br />Light shone through the darkness.<br /><br />The voice
again—and a loving face, saying, “Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit
the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”<br /><br />Arms
enfolding me, glory overwhelming me. His voice continues: “Well done,
my dear one! You took up your cross and followed me. You fought the good
fight, you ran the race and finished the course, and you kept the
faith. Well done, thou good and faithful servant! Enter thou into the
joy of the Lord.”<br /><br />More light. Rejoicing. Singing. Worship. Praise. Heaven and home. Jesus.<br /><br />And so I awoke.<br /><br />The
questions on my mind when I awakened are those that I ask of you. Will
you die for Jesus? Will you take a stand for your faith? In the past
century alone, more Christians have died for their faith than in all the
previous years combined—and Islam is a great perpetuator of these
deeds. Friends! Persecution is coming, just as Christ promised it would.
Yea, all who live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution. How
will you respond to that persecution? Will you rejoice as commanded and
stand firm in your faith? Or will you cower in fear and disgrace?<br /><br />My
friends and readers, live for Jesus! Die for Jesus! All earthly pain
and sorrow that we face here on earth will be worth it all when we see
Jesus. He gave His life for us! What have we given to Him? Right now,
purpose to die to self. Place yourself and all your ambitions, hopes,
dreams, and passions upon that cross, crucify them and leave them there.
Purpose to know and live for Jesus only, and Him crucified. For then,
we can say with Martin Luther, “The body they may kill, God’s truth
abideth still. His kingdom is forever.”<br /><br />Amen </span>MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-79925533222919784742013-01-04T10:18:00.001-06:002013-01-04T10:18:21.970-06:00My brother is hosting "30 Days of Writing Prompts," where every day he gives us a prompt, and we have to write a minimum of 200 words on the chosen subject. Today's prompt is: "Share one of your favorite quotes. Tell the reader why it is important, significant, or meaningful."<br />
<br />
I wrote the following as my response, and thought I'd share it here on my blog, which shamefully gets ignored most of the time. :-)<br />
<br /> <br />Edwin Paxton Hood—an English author—once said, “Be as careful of the books you read, as of the company you keep; for your habits and character will be as much influenced by the former as the latter.” My father firmly believed this, and, as a result, kept us well supplied with a treasure trove of books. <br />
<br /> Books became some of my best friends, and I spent much time with them. I have therefore read numerous books and learned many things from them. But of all the books I have read and of all the lives and theology I have explored through them, one of the quotes that has stayed with me for many years now comes from a book called, “Seeing and Savoring Jesus Christ” by John Piper. In this book, Mr. Piper states, “The glory of Jesus Christ is that He is always out of sync with the world and therefore always relevant for the world. If He fit nicely, He would be of little use.” <br />
<br /> As a young girl, I knew that I did not “fit in” with the others my age. I dressed differently, talked differently, listened to different music, and even went to school differently. Sometimes I felt glad about this fact, but often I struggled with it. I hated the way the other girls in my Sunday school class would stare at me, ignore me, or even insult me—often insinuating that I found my clothes in my granny’s attic trunk. <br />
<br /> I struggled with this for many years. But one day my dad gave me the book by John Piper, encouraging me to read it. When I reached that sentence I stopped, paused, and reread it several times. I then realized that following in Christ’s footsteps requires being out of “sync” with the culture around us. <br />
<br /> C.S. Lewis once said, “A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic—on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg—or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.” <br />
<br /> Indeed, Jesus came preaching a message entirely different from the culture of the time. He taught that if a soldier compelled you to carry his sack a mile, you should go with him for two miles. Shocking! He healed on the Sabbath day. Horror! He outright called the people around Him an “evil and adulterous generation,” “whited sepulchers,” and a “faithless generation.” Outrageous! Yet, people came away saying, “Never man spake like this man!” Even as a boy, all who heard Him speak were amazed at His answers. <br /> <br />Jesus taught true love and sacrifice, yet He did not mince words when it came to telling the truth. Because His message contrasted so starkly with the “thou shalts” and “thou shalt nots” of the Scribes and Pharisees, He became relevant and therefore useful to the world. Had He come merely preaching the rules of the religious leaders of that day, He could not have brought life to us, nor could He have freed us from the bondage of sin. <br /> <br />Mr. Piper’s book taught me that because I serve the Risen Lord, I do not need to “fit in” with the world around me. If I look like they do, talk like they do, listen to their music, watch their movies, read their books, etc., why should they listen to me when I tell them of a Christ Who came to deliver them from their sin and bondage? No, as I learned that day, I MUST remain “out of sync with world” so that I can become relevant and useful to the world. <br /> <br />Blessings,<br />Melody <br />MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-36166565808757609612013-01-03T08:42:00.002-06:002013-01-03T08:42:57.173-06:004 years ago today...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Excitement coursed through my veins as the seemingly 50
pounds of satin slipped over my head. My best friend fastened the dress, and I
turned to look in the mirror to see the result. “This is it,” I thought, “This
is the day when my dreams come true!” My girlfriends chattered happily around
me as they too prepared themselves for the glorious hour ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I listened happily to them, and then turned
from the mirror to return to the waiting room. With my hair curled to
perfection, a tiara sitting on my head, jewelry to match the beadwork on my
dress, and a long, flowing train, I truly felt like a princess—like a bride. My
steps felt light as I went to the room.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Minutes ticked past, and everyone around me hurried their
preparations. Girls curled their hair, painted their nails, and then slipped
into their blue satin gowns. The clock seemed to slow down, and I felt as if I
watched the scene from somewhere outside myself as I once again realized that
the time had almost arrived to join my life to another. As I watched the
scurrying around me, trepidation suddenly overtook my soul.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“How can I do this? I know nothing about being a wife. Can I
really be a good wife for him?” I felt so young, so unprepared and lacking
knowledge. No, I couldn’t do it. What had possessed me to think that I could!?
My hands began shaking uncontrollably. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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My wedding coordinator perceived my nervousness, and shooed
everyone out of the room so I could have 5 minutes of quiet to relax. I took
several deep breaths. “Father, help me!” I prayed. “I can’t do this on my own.
Please grant me strength!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My bridesmaids returned and gathered around me in a circle
and prayed for me. I began shaking again, and tears began forming in my eyes. I
took several more deep breaths and willed the tears to go away. “I can’t ruin
my make-up!” Peace finally began settling over my heart as my sisters, friends,
and mother prayed for me. I knew then that God was truly with me and in this
day. </div>
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<br /></div>
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My dad came to the door. “It’s time,” he said. One by one,
the bridesmaids left the room and walked down the aisle to their places. I took
my dad’s arm, and looked up at him. “You’re the most beautiful bride I have
ever seen—besides your mother, that is,” he said. I smiled at him, and again
suppressed the tears. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Trumpets began playing. My time had come! Emotions
overwhelmed me as I walked down the aisle. As every eye looked at me, I again
wondered if I could really do this. But, then, I looked ahead and saw my
promised husband, smiling at me, waiting to receive me. Joy overruled all other
emotions as I gazed into his loving eyes. I remembered that I had arrived at
that moment by God’s appointment, therefore I need fear nothing. Thus, perfect
love cast out all fear. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I reached the end of the aisle, where I took my beloved’s
hand for the first time. Oh the thrill of that moment! I squeezed his hand and
arm to assure him of my love. We then climbed the steps to stand before my
father, and repeat the sacred vows that made us man and wife. A joyful
solemnity came over me as I carefully repeated each irrevocable word. I felt
the Lord standing next to me, upholding me, and witnessing this sacred and holy
act. Again, I knew He had ordained this moment. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Finally, I heard the words, “I now pronounce you man and
wife. Donald, you may kiss your bride.” My heart began beating wildly as my
husband (my husband!) pulled me to him. Of that moment, no pen can tell or
tongue describe, only know that a first kiss is a most precious and valuable
treasure. How glad I am that I saved it for that moment! We then turned to face
our friends and guests, and how my heart soared as I heard them clap and cheer
as my father introduced, “Mr. and Mrs. Donald Preuninger”! We then floated down
the aisle out of the sanctuary, taking our first steps together along the “till
death do you part” pathway. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Exactly four years have passed from that day to this, and today,
as I prepare to spend the day with my wonderful husband, I am so glad I did not
hearken to the fears resounding in my mind. God has tremendously blessed our
marriage and I can still say with confidence that God predestined our union.
The last four years almost seem like a whirlwind. We have made new friends,
lost dear relatives, made a home together, and, most importantly, God has given
us two dear children. God is in it all and we could not have done it without
Him. I praise my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ for the wondrous things He has
done for us, and thank Him for the incredible man He gave me four years ago
today. His ways are indeed perfect, and His gifts are the best. And how blessed
is the marriage that He ordains!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text">“Every good gift and every perfect gift is
from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no
variableness, neither shadow of turning” (James<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>1:17).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-21252762029382250832012-08-02T11:24:00.000-05:002012-08-02T11:24:13.401-05:00Dishes remain with us always..."Mommy! Color! Color, Mommy!" echoed through my living room. My 2-year-old gazed at me with her big blue eyes, pleading with me to color with her. She's what I call a "Social Colorer." She loves to color in her coloring book, but she wants to do it WITH someone--not just by herself.<br />
<br />
Feeling slightly exasperated, I looked at the piles of laundry waiting to be folded and the kitchen sink filled with dishes. I did not have time to color! Work needed to be done! But then I looked at those big blue eyes, and Christ's words flooded my mind, "For ye have the poor always<b></b> with you; but me ye have not always." The words then changed in my mind, to become, "For ye have the dishes and laundry with you always; but this little girl ye have not always."<br />
<br />
Feeling thoroughly chastened, I relented, and spent a delightful hour coloring pictures with my daughter, and felt much better afterward for making her little heart happy. Yes, the chores remain with me always, but these moments with my children are fleeting fast. I can not believe that two years have passed since Danielle's entrance into this world. Only yesterday, I held a small, fragile little girl in my arms...yet today, a thriving, strong, energetic, talkative toddler bounces through my home, and finds little time to sit and cuddle with Mommy.<br />
<br />
As I realize how these past two years have sped by me, I am cherishing more and more each and every single moment I have with my adorable son. I cuddle with him whenever I have the chance, because I know a day is fast approaching when he will be too busy and active to want to sit and cuddle with his mother. I love each smile, every coo, and all the slobbery kisses he places on my cheek--for each one lasts only for this moment, and soon becomes part of the past that can never be reclaimed.<br />
<br />
Yes, dishes remain with us always. But our children do not. Cherish the moment. Each one comes straight from the Father and is an invaluable gift. So forget the dishes, and sit on the floor and color with your little one today!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning" </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(James 1:17).<i> </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<b></b>MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-86452848267222322362012-05-17T12:21:00.000-05:002012-05-17T12:41:48.108-05:00Timothy Luke Has Arrived! ~His Birth Story~<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
As most of my readers probably already know, I FINALLY had
my sweet baby boy on April 21<sup>st</sup>. Life has been so hectic since then,
that I am only now getting around to posting on my blog about it. I apologize
for the scarcity of posts on this blog, but I have found that motherhood is a
full time job, which leaves little time for writing. </div>
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<br /></div>
Anyway… <br />
<br />
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This post is about Timothy Luke’s birth story. Shall we
begin? *I apologize if I described anything about the birth too graphically--I tried not to*</div>
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<br /></div>
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My “due date” for Timothy was April 2. This was based on my
Basal Body Temperature chart, and the supposed date of conception. Toward the
end of March, I had my home visit from my midwife, and when I told her of some
symptoms I had been experiencing (increased “twinges” on the cervix, increased
discharge, etc.), she smiled and said that this baby might be due sooner than
we think…but, as I was soon to learn, my body just likes to get ready REALLY
early. </div>
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<br /></div>
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April 2 came and went, and still no baby. I was still
pregnant, huge, and utterly miserable. That week I began having some rather
severe pain in my pelvic floor when standing or walking. Donna (my midwife)
told me to stay off my feet as much as possible (meaning no exercise!), and not
to lift anything heavier than a milk jug. So, until my appointment with her
later that week, I followed orders, and stayed on the couch most of the day. </div>
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<br /></div>
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By my next appointment, not only was I feeling better after
my week of rest, but Donna concluded that the baby’s head was resting on a
nerve, thereby causing the pain, and said I could resume my normal activities,
which I gladly did (staying on a couch all day REALLY makes time drag!). </div>
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<br /></div>
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Two more weeks past, and I was considered 42 weeks pregnant.
By this time I had tried many natural “safe” methods to induce labor (walking,
squats, Evening Primrose oil, pineapple, etc.), and nothing had worked. We had
to have a sonogram that Monday morning to make sure that everything was okay.
Not only was the baby very active while on screen, but he had a perfect
heartbeat, and amniotic fluids checked out all right. Donna prescribed an herbal
supplement for me to try, saying that it would normally induce labor within 48
hours if your body was ready. I took it faithfully for the prescribed amount of
time, but nothing happened. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Wednesday, April 18, 2012.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I awakened Wednesday morning with TERRIBLE chest congestion.
I coughed and coughed all day long until I had lost my voice, and had an
incredibly sore throat and aching chest. I actually went to bed that night
praying that the baby wouldn’t come.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Thursday, April 19, 2012. </div>
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<br /></div>
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The next morning, I awakened with not only the terrible
cough still present, but I also had a stuffy nose. I again hoped that I would
not have the baby that day. Then, at 4:00 p.m., I began having some rather hard
contractions at about 12 minutes apart. Despite my cold, I was excited. Perhaps
today was finally the day!! That evening, when Donald got home from work, we
went on a walk around the block. The contractions were still ranging from 10-12
minutes apart, and we wanted to see if walking would help. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While on the walk, they actually sped up to 4 minutes apart.
I thought, “Surely, this is it!” But, once we got home and I sat down, they
immediately slowed down again. Dread flooded over me, as this was exactly how
my labor with Danielle (53 hours with her) had gone. I contacted my midwife,
and she told me to take a warm bath, and then try to get some sleep. I did as
she said, and while the warm bath didn’t stop the contractions, it did help me
relax a little, and I was able to go to sleep.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Friday, April 20. </div>
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<br /></div>
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After a very restless night of being awakened frequently by
contractions and coughing fits, I awakened to find that I was still having
contractions about 10 minutes apart. Thankfully, my midwife appointment was
that morning. My sweet mother came to take me to the appointment, so that I
wouldn’t have to drive in that condition. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once we arrived at the birth center, Donna was able to watch
and feel my belly during a few contractions, and concluded that I was
experiencing prodromal labor (essentially, false labor). Again, this is what
the first 30+ hours of my labor with Danielle had been, and I must confess, I
was rather “put out” that I had to go through this with the second child as
well. Donna told me that for some unknown reason, some women just feel their
bodies getting ready to go into actual labor more than others, and that I must
be one of them. But she was confidant that I would be having the baby VERY
soon.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her confidence and knowledge reassured me. I must confess
that while still knowing that everything was okay (baby was active, had a good
heartbeat), that there was a tiny little spot of fear niggling in the back of
my brain due to some very kind, well-intentioned friends who basically told me
that I should see a doctor, due to the fact that pregnancies as far along as
mine could develop all sorts of problems—including the death of a child (and
trust me, that is the last thing that should ever be told to a 42+ week
pregnant mother—she has enough to worry about as it is!). But Donna assured me
everything was okay, and then scheduled a sonogram for later in the day just to
double check. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While waiting for the sonogram, my mother, sister-in-law
(who is also pregnant and had just finished her appointment with Donna as
well), and I went out to a wonderful, relaxing lunch at IHOP, followed by going
to BuyBuy Baby to “window shop.” That was so much fun! Definitely something I
needed at the time. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Finally, at 2:00 p.m., we went to the sonogram, where once
again everything checked out as being perfect. Donna talked with me again, said
she didn’t know why my baby was late or why I was having prodromal labor, but
that she was sure everything was going to work out according to God’s perfect
timing. Her sweet confidence, reassurance, and trust in God settled me, and I
left the sonogram knowing that everything was ultimately in God’s hands,
despite what people might be trying to tell me.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I went home and took a 1 ½ hour nap, and then awakened to
find that the prodromal labor had intensified, but had not picked up speed.
Throughout the rest of the evening I just relaxed and watched movies with my
mom, sisters, and husband and breathed through the contractions when they came. (I was determined not to make the same mistake I made with
Danielle. With her labor, I didn’t realize the first 30 hours were prodromal, so I just kept
walking and doing things to try to make the labor speed up, so that by the time
it actually became active labor, I was worn out and had a really hard time of
it through the rest of the birth. This time, I took it easy and relaxed and
slept. I now fully realize the wisdom of that choice.)</div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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Finally, around 10:00 p.m., I reported to my midwives, and
they urged me to take some Benadryl (which would either slow down or stop the
contractions to let me sleep), take a warm bath, and then go to bed, and that <b>hopefully</b>
they would see me in the morning. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I continued watching a movie until I began getting tired,
and then around midnight, I took the Benadryl and sat in a tub of warm water
until I began to get drowsy, and then headed to bed.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Saturday, April 21</div>
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<br /></div>
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The Benadryl knocked me out for a couple of hours, but then
I awakened around 4:00 a.m. to extremely intense contractions at 10 minutes
apart. These were much more intense than the ones I had been having, and I
began moaning as they hit me—and to my surprise, my husband (who is a very
light sleeper) never even stirred. </div>
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All through that miserable hour, I kept wondering if this
was real labor, and whether I should call the midwives or not. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At 5:00 a.m., I began feeling very weak and hungry. I
instinctively knew that I would be having the baby that day, and also knew that
I would need my strength. I shook Donald awake and asked him to make me some
scrambled eggs. He got up without even asking how I was doing (poor guy—he was
still half asleep!), and headed to the kitchen. My mom (she and my sisters had
spent the night, just in case) was sitting up in our living room, and asked him
how I was doing. He told her I was asking for food. She decided to come
investigate.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I had gotten out of bed, and had decided to sit on the
birthing ball for a while. Right as she came into the room, I decided that the
ball was a BIG mistake, as it made the contractions much more intense, and I
could barely stand the pressure from the baby’s head. However, moving from the
bed to the ball definitely got things rolling…I immediately began having
contractions at 6 minutes apart. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Mom watched me through a couple, and then decided that we
needed to at least call the assistant midwife (Judith Hynds) who only lived 10
minutes away. We called her, and I talked to her and described how I was
feeling. She told me she was on her way. No sooner had I hung up, than I began
having incredibly intense contractions at 4 minutes apart. I decided we had
better call Donna too, as she would hate to miss the birth, and I could tell it
was coming quickly. I was now in active labor—that was for certain.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Judith arrived not long after, and I told her I could barely
walk to the bathroom, due to the intense amount of pressure I was experiencing
on my pelvic floor. I described it as “needing to go to the bathroom really
bad, but I just can’t!” She checked me, and found that the baby’s head was
incredibly low, and that I was dilated to a 6. This was encouraging news! After
a little while, I moved back to the bed and lay on my left side. The birthing
ball and I just weren’t getting along, and I found that being in the bed on my
side was the only way I could relax and deal with the contractions.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Donna arrived sometime around 6:00 a.m. I don’t remember
exactly when…by the time she got there, I was completely out of it. Everything
from here on out is a blur. I dimly remember seeing Judith and Ashley (the student
midwife) preparing all the birthing supplies, and I remember Donna sitting on
the edge of the bed, stroking my arms and legs, and telling me I was doing
great. My mother was also there, encouraging me through all the contractions
(and since she’s been there 8 times herself, that really meant a lot!).</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also remember my sweet husband. He was never far from my
side, and was usually behind me, putting counter pressure on my back, as that
was the only way I could somewhat cope with the incredible back labor I was
experiencing. In fact, I remember at one point that he needed to get up to do
something, and I actually felt a little perturbed that he left me, as I needed
that counter pressure badly! Poor, sweet guy. His arms were definitely worn out
after that!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally, close to 8:00 a.m., I remember feeling a slight,
indistinct urge to push. Donna’s trained ears must have picked up on the
difference in the sound of my breathing, because she asked right then what the
contractions were feeling like. I told her I thought I might need to push soon.
She came over and checked me, and told me that I was at a 10, and that I could
begin pushing whenever I was ready. This was a HUGE relief, as one of my fears
was that I wouldn’t dilate all the way (as had been the case with Danielle),
and that she would have to push the cervix back—which wasn’t exactly pleasant. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I went through a few more contractions, and then suddenly,
my body began pushing involuntarily. I then began working with my body, and
pushed as hard as I could. With the second push, I heard a loud pop and felt a
gush of fluid between my legs. Donna told me my water had just broken (such a
strange feeling! My water never officially broke with Danielle…). Donald had
just left the room for a moment, and when he came back, he expressed his
disappointment at having missed that part. He had really wanted to see what it
looked like! While the contractions only became more painful at this point, it
was such a relief to not have to lie there and concentrate on relaxing, and to
actually be able to do something!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m afraid I became rather vocal at this point, and began
crying out to God for help. I honestly felt that I couldn’t go through this
part again, yet knew it was necessary to achieve the end goal—that of holding my
sweet boy in my arms. The contractions were much more intense than with my
labor with Danielle. Partly, I believe, because it was so fast! I would just
finish one contraction and would think I could rest for a little while, when
another would be upon me! Inwardly, I groaned and complained to God, asking Him
if I couldn’t just have a little bit of rest between them! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But, after having waited so far past my due date, I guess my
body was just ready to get that baby out! And I completely agreed! God gave grace
for each contraction, and so by focusing on the joy that was set before me, I
kept pushing. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My sweet hubby came over to the edge of the bed and knelt
beside me, giving me his hands. He said I squeezed them far harder than I ever
did during Danielle’s birth. I’m actually surprised I didn’t break or at least
bruise them! But as each contraction came, and I pushed for all I was worth,
his dear hands also got squeezed. Squeezing them seemed to take my mind off of
the pain, for some reason.</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFB1U7xUHgzvFjmEPBz0qj1sqvOVoqixosBDp4mK26AcQRtZ-Tl5v7vFaiSear9CcppKPM5w6JSkIx7a9b_wpG6N9fUyDw2r_6_jhJaNzz5MPypYUPaB2xMIl31YHJ9oKBscrKdjd9M8/s1600/IMG_6387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFB1U7xUHgzvFjmEPBz0qj1sqvOVoqixosBDp4mK26AcQRtZ-Tl5v7vFaiSear9CcppKPM5w6JSkIx7a9b_wpG6N9fUyDw2r_6_jhJaNzz5MPypYUPaB2xMIl31YHJ9oKBscrKdjd9M8/s320/IMG_6387.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donald holding my hands and praying over me as I push. The wet cloth is on my head because I became incredibly hot!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally, Donna told me she could see Timothy’s head. I had
known instinctively that his head must be starting to show, as I well
remembered the feeling of the stretching that begins at this point. However,
this time, I literally felt like I was about to split in two. Never have I felt
anything like that! As his head slowly made its appearance, I heard Donna’s
gentle voice saying, “Breathe, Melody, breathe him out!” That was the hardest
thing I have ever had to do. It takes much more effort to breathe a baby out
than it does to push him out. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once his head was out, Donna instructed me to push once
again. I heard a loud popping noise (almost like the vacuum on a suction cup
being broken—really weird) and his shoulders shot out of my body. Again, Donna
instructed me to push. At this point, I remember thinking, “His head is out
now, and surely the rest of him is out too. Why am I still pushing? Can’t I
stop already!?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6KzqGVqA6hX_HTjR3PJqtaGyuGF-wx2NtoCbqDNe22ydw8CSgAQl-Nqp8FO5t5c1bSGU4pT9G-YEReXJInvrXuZwoIwNnRcLdJxzvKHDgmUpXUXilGqt1-bLLMACaejYzwDZ9oJfnKeA/s1600/IMG_6432.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6KzqGVqA6hX_HTjR3PJqtaGyuGF-wx2NtoCbqDNe22ydw8CSgAQl-Nqp8FO5t5c1bSGU4pT9G-YEReXJInvrXuZwoIwNnRcLdJxzvKHDgmUpXUXilGqt1-bLLMACaejYzwDZ9oJfnKeA/s320/IMG_6432.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking at my sweet baby after he was handed to me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I followed instructions, and kept pushing. Finally, I
felt his little legs and feet slide out, and at 8:25 a.m. (after only 4 hours
of active labor and 26 minutes of pushing), my son entered the world. Then
followed a rather unnerving moment on my part. When Danielle was born, she came
out screaming at the top of her lungs. When Timothy was born, I heard nothing.
I anxiously asked if everything was all right, and Donna assured me that he was
okay. Little did I know that during this time they were unwrapping the cord
from around his neck. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once they had unwrapped the cord, they handed him to me,
where he began making a little growling/cooing noise. It was so sweet sounding,
and I instantly fell in love. We spent some moments bonding, and then 12
minutes later, I pushed the placenta out, and I was officially “unpregnant,”
according to Donna. </div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM4cCWmT2eoU4lb_jyKG6nvN6IYZKiI9UReZW6y_Siw9puPCBWLL39ndNwu3E0f5ZNsoquUAjmZ1eieHskDtg0c9Q-XgBykJ8I3iTB-s2B_m3MKooHcFz4DM8s19if3wdPJCdBQNc4YJM/s1600/IMG_6513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM4cCWmT2eoU4lb_jyKG6nvN6IYZKiI9UReZW6y_Siw9puPCBWLL39ndNwu3E0f5ZNsoquUAjmZ1eieHskDtg0c9Q-XgBykJ8I3iTB-s2B_m3MKooHcFz4DM8s19if3wdPJCdBQNc4YJM/s320/IMG_6513.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Admiring our new son together.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After I nursed him, we had a lovely, wonderful, incredible,
soothing herbal bath (I just don’t like that part at all…can you tell?). ;-) As
I sat in the bath, I began noticing how large my “little” boy was. His body was
covered in rolls of fat. I began thinking that all the avocados I had eaten
during my pregnancy must have done the trick. Little did I know just how well!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJNmgPs4mRcB7ukBTgP8cXweLl6JKl05a_EYIMqOB-0SCvDuAHAaQ3YCWQA1IpPp3ZtE3M6lg8bmjFZObcxYplL40oVu86AYVKZG06TLDDa2yp-QTQEdZZAqwxv0lgDC7iaHcR5glG3w/s1600/IMG_6480.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJNmgPs4mRcB7ukBTgP8cXweLl6JKl05a_EYIMqOB-0SCvDuAHAaQ3YCWQA1IpPp3ZtE3M6lg8bmjFZObcxYplL40oVu86AYVKZG06TLDDa2yp-QTQEdZZAqwxv0lgDC7iaHcR5glG3w/s320/IMG_6480.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big sister was brought in to meet her new brother.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once we were both cleaned up, and I was settled back on the
bed, it was time for the newborn exam. With much anticipation, I watched as
Donna laid him in the sling to weigh him. How big would this new little one be?
Danielle had been 7 lbs., 12 oz., and he looked a lot bigger than her. Donna
lifted the sling in the air and looked at the scale. My jaw nearly hit the
floor when she announced, “He’s 10 lbs., 4 oz! It’s no wonder you were so
miserable!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ashley—Donna’s apprentice—said, “That’s just what the
sonogram said he would be!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Really???” I asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes. We decided not to tell you,” replied Donna.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQV5sFqLvAL6kB1etkATDLWv3T6wKvXSFmEgKZdAeSSz0FZx1WV5MU1ApkL77ZNDuCGMFK795yVKvUfaB1G7PIQsmEtPNeQX9kZ3tdLbLrGBpcL68yDGgoCA-md1WnKGpOh4sMPliNsQ/s1600/IMG_6586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQV5sFqLvAL6kB1etkATDLWv3T6wKvXSFmEgKZdAeSSz0FZx1WV5MU1ApkL77ZNDuCGMFK795yVKvUfaB1G7PIQsmEtPNeQX9kZ3tdLbLrGBpcL68yDGgoCA-md1WnKGpOh4sMPliNsQ/s320/IMG_6586.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"10 lbs., 4 oz!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m glad you didn’t tell me! It would have scared me big
time!” I answered. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The newborn checkup continued, with the result that not only
did I have a perfectly healthy baby, but Donna also determined that he was born
right on time. All indications showed that he was full term, but not as overdue
as we thought. Donna said my dates must have been a week or so off—which is
highly possible, as I was still nursing Danielle at the time I conceived, and
my cycles were extremely irregular at that point. Also, he was 22 inches long, with a 15 inch chest, 17 inch shoulders, and a 14 1/2 inch head (circumference, of course). It's no wonder I felt like I was going to split in two! Yet, as big as he was, I had no tearing! Whereas I did tear with Danielle (she was 7 lbs., 12 oz.--a much smaller baby). God is good!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Timothy’s birth just goes to show that despite all the dire predictions
of others, worries, and attempts on my part to induce via natural means, God
still knows what He is doing and ultimately is the only one Who knows when a
baby is supposed to be born. Timothy is a wonderful baby—perfectly healthy, and
a wonderful eater. In two weeks, he gained a pound above his birth weight, and
looking at him now, I have a feeling he is now over 12 pounds (I’ll know for
sure tomorrow, as I ordered a baby scale, and it’s supposed to arrive then!).
If he had come earlier—when I thought it was time—he might not have been so
healthy, and I might have had difficulties with him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqbgJAmYFtI41WwWTqH_1x_4Df3NZn4XLhON6RJY0S-ydVj5fYF1nIV68gGE8qaoq4gY6nt4mPANjAMJhIwA9vZ3PsFiUl6xifjexrcI_JMdUVEfExXKs87hFp-sOlrKy6lpKeeij_zOU/s1600/IMG_6694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqbgJAmYFtI41WwWTqH_1x_4Df3NZn4XLhON6RJY0S-ydVj5fYF1nIV68gGE8qaoq4gY6nt4mPANjAMJhIwA9vZ3PsFiUl6xifjexrcI_JMdUVEfExXKs87hFp-sOlrKy6lpKeeij_zOU/s320/IMG_6694.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Sister holding her new brother for the first time!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_H9NnPJuSqku5Pu19WuNdzpXwGqvnvwHONCpV5k_84CxzX0jNSat9NIivDk4HiYEryz4fHLLE2jcy4ISE_qRXOLK-KOdGSO4_xBOrldyXb16CykSJP8EqFFzI5EPA3Ap_oTTvNq3TEtU/s1600/IMG_6650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_H9NnPJuSqku5Pu19WuNdzpXwGqvnvwHONCpV5k_84CxzX0jNSat9NIivDk4HiYEryz4fHLLE2jcy4ISE_qRXOLK-KOdGSO4_xBOrldyXb16CykSJP8EqFFzI5EPA3Ap_oTTvNq3TEtU/s320/IMG_6650.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My beautiful son!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Also, another praise: During the entirety of my labor, God
spared me, and kept me from having any coughing fits! A few hours after the
birth, I began having trouble with them again, but what a relief it was to be
kept from that during labor! His mercy toward me during those hours was
incredible!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since the birth, I have had a round of my mother and sisters
staying with me to help me, but as of yesterday, the last sister left, and now
at 3 ½ weeks postpartum, I am officially on my own with my two children. While
this is exciting, my fatigue from nursing around the clock presents a bit of a
challenge. But, God ordained this part of my life, and I know He’ll give me the
strength to press onward. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have almost completely recovered from the birth. Indeed, a
week after the birth, my mom practically had to sit on me to keep me from
overdoing it. There’s definitely something to be said for a 4-hour labor versus
a long, 53-hour ordeal! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiquz1Q164eCVrw8J-qh7Qb54kXDDye5tzHgmbKGtNXQOx4DnVVgfSOcf9ezHxmNKOKVBJG6xE7obfXqs7PS3xrs276V07gqNeqB0WKo512MQcTX9fb4nZkeqxdx0CNL2KXH9R7p5gKY0g/s1600/IMG_6718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiquz1Q164eCVrw8J-qh7Qb54kXDDye5tzHgmbKGtNXQOx4DnVVgfSOcf9ezHxmNKOKVBJG6xE7obfXqs7PS3xrs276V07gqNeqB0WKo512MQcTX9fb4nZkeqxdx0CNL2KXH9R7p5gKY0g/s320/IMG_6718.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first family photo!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MF-SxmsXRblaDtKmmil9SUTty6juNNufPhEMIM1tOj0RYSQ9P5dUnagzZGGFetdnM8WI3XLnINBDHtfzHeYlZZibhg_pfhRIv4pexdGJs-K2LTCjr9_cc171QtWT4S3TJG2kbsyyoM0/s1600/IMG_6733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MF-SxmsXRblaDtKmmil9SUTty6juNNufPhEMIM1tOj0RYSQ9P5dUnagzZGGFetdnM8WI3XLnINBDHtfzHeYlZZibhg_pfhRIv4pexdGJs-K2LTCjr9_cc171QtWT4S3TJG2kbsyyoM0/s320/IMG_6733.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My INCREDIBLE midwifery team! Couldn't have done it without them!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While Timothy’s birth was just about the most painful thing
I have ever experienced in my life, not long after he was born I turned to my
sister Grace and said, “Well, Jesus was right again, as always.” She looked at
me quizzically, and I said, “In John 16, Jesus said, ‘<span class="textjohn-16-21">A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her
hour is come: but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no
more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world.’”</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9zGP1Y19laMfkjmdgd4lKxNkJOWiyFhdgc1K5GW1wwMnsxEpoEAdR-eC6-Egu65CR0cHE8j05Gq6JPS149iybYVTzfzOJt3MeOu6DyLp6248MdMhIxJbO36iuYk7Ue898pGf1solzfo4/s1600/IMG_6746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9zGP1Y19laMfkjmdgd4lKxNkJOWiyFhdgc1K5GW1wwMnsxEpoEAdR-eC6-Egu65CR0cHE8j05Gq6JPS149iybYVTzfzOJt3MeOu6DyLp6248MdMhIxJbO36iuYk7Ue898pGf1solzfo4/s320/IMG_6746.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="textjohn-16-21">And verily, the memory of the
pain and anguish has faded, and I am left with an intense joy that my little
son—Timothy Luke—is here. I pray that he lives up to the meaning of his name: A
God-honoring Light Bearer. May he let his light so shine before men that they
may see his good works and glorify his Father, which is in heaven. Amen and
Amen. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw1uAhZcCF7K_z-TxoNKg6KQkadE_Lqub0-Z5QRGvqSwzzr9z9E1zEjV0d4MxJVV-qhA94SPIN98GUguwW8WneXbm7P5gSWAqPaXv0dvHcytt1cWMADUmrfvRLUWkb0N8BIapnLE8rg0Y/s1600/DSC00510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw1uAhZcCF7K_z-TxoNKg6KQkadE_Lqub0-Z5QRGvqSwzzr9z9E1zEjV0d4MxJVV-qhA94SPIN98GUguwW8WneXbm7P5gSWAqPaXv0dvHcytt1cWMADUmrfvRLUWkb0N8BIapnLE8rg0Y/s320/DSC00510.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Timothy Luke at 2 weeks old! Isn't he handsome?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="textjohn-16-21">Blessings,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="textjohn-16-21">Melody </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-23840801344671190272011-11-18T18:14:00.003-06:002011-11-18T18:26:06.088-06:00It's a Boy!!!Just a quick note to say that we had a sonogram yesterday, and discovered that the baby who is currently kicking in my womb is a little boy! We are going to name him Timothy Luke. It means "God honoring light." I hope and pray that he will grow up to be a bright and shining light for Jesus, honoring God by turning many to Him. :-) Who knows? Maybe he'll be the next Billy Graham, Jonathan Edwards, or D.L. Moody, and bring a great revival to this dying nation (should the Lord tarry, of course). One can always hope and pray, right? :-)<br /><br />Anyway, just thought I'd announce that news on my blog. I apologize for not writing very often. I'll have to blame that on this pregnancy being really taxing in the energy and stomach department, combined with the fact that I'm chasing after a toddler all day long too. :-P Needless to say, I keep very busy.<br /><br />Here are a few recent pictures of my little family. (Photo credit goes to my sister, Faith.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtanbGUHGw2ju5PsQdPdU3kuynWzXAflcsnK6CngkH9Q4zzsOG2PLVhqFZb19_TdQhi4mJHIbPQCnu5FGXzlrKsenMmRKY_BBHZFZpB3XK4Xnz3scUqG64eEM3He7rz_EDiZ3ywAFVDM/s1600/IMG_9761.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtanbGUHGw2ju5PsQdPdU3kuynWzXAflcsnK6CngkH9Q4zzsOG2PLVhqFZb19_TdQhi4mJHIbPQCnu5FGXzlrKsenMmRKY_BBHZFZpB3XK4Xnz3scUqG64eEM3He7rz_EDiZ3ywAFVDM/s320/IMG_9761.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676495358644844738" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGEMNaX7Dw7BppgT-dgCaSxYPE2mH4zsf5-xhGuVNSsKxvVdReB1Ynqe__hFXUwHybi8XiE1tpxeP2rVYfFjHFQ2rzmnePyTqsR3yAxY8mUHqC_ZNG91OjDJ5SBH3UnJj9z9xDNVU1o_Y/s1600/IMG_9843.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGEMNaX7Dw7BppgT-dgCaSxYPE2mH4zsf5-xhGuVNSsKxvVdReB1Ynqe__hFXUwHybi8XiE1tpxeP2rVYfFjHFQ2rzmnePyTqsR3yAxY8mUHqC_ZNG91OjDJ5SBH3UnJj9z9xDNVU1o_Y/s320/IMG_9843.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676495366471406898" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPoMgllwWP8Y2aw9zQvqn8FC8afP5tPUKxh_oijHnolJF50sYlK-OlG-BP-sfPSPc_RnlAz3aij-uECoCZjydLXvSGcoOcvndsW7C1ZuxEjbEEsiH5QORFU2K6nSJ6Rf8BhyphenhyphenRM35Tk7mM/s1600/IMG_9679.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPoMgllwWP8Y2aw9zQvqn8FC8afP5tPUKxh_oijHnolJF50sYlK-OlG-BP-sfPSPc_RnlAz3aij-uECoCZjydLXvSGcoOcvndsW7C1ZuxEjbEEsiH5QORFU2K6nSJ6Rf8BhyphenhyphenRM35Tk7mM/s320/IMG_9679.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676495356527040306" border="0" /></a>Danielle is a cutie, is she not? I just love that little girl so much, and am so looking forward to meeting my next child in 4 short months! God has richly blessed us beyond our wildest dreams. :-) For all that I am, and all that I ever hope to be, all the glory belongs to Jesus!<br /><br />Blessings,<br />MelodyMelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-72587843174441755082011-08-16T19:09:00.004-05:002011-08-17T10:50:34.449-05:00Big News!!Hello All!
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<br />Yes, I realize that it has been a terribly long time since I last posted anything. The Summer has been very busy for my little family, and the moments I've had where I could have taken time to write something, were usually spent either resting or reading a book. I have a blog post brewing in the back of my mind which will probably be entitled "The Frog Prince or Prince Charming?" So stay tuned in the next week or two, and hopefully I'll have time to write what should be an edifying article for single girls.
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<br />Now...for my big news... *drum roll* Danielle is going to be a big sister!!! That's right! I'm expecting again, due sometime around April 2!!
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<br />It is kind of strange how I found out. I had suspected that I was pregnant for about the last week and a half before taking the test, due to spells of exhaustion and nausea that kept sweeping over me at random times. But I decided to wait until my birthday on July 30th to take the test, as I thought that would be a really neat birthday present. Well, I woke up at 6 that morning needing to use the restroom, so decided to take it then, as first thing in the morning is generally the best time to do it. So I took it, but being a little groggy, I didn't wait the full 3 minutes it requires to fully register the results, and only waited a few seconds. Thus all I saw was a bold negative sign. Disappointed, I put it back under the sink (I don't know why I didn't throw it away), and went back to bed.
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<br /></span></div> <div><span class="890042416-03082011"></span> </div> <div><span class="890042416-03082011">I then spent the rest of the day wondering why I was feeling nauseous if I wasn't pregnant... Then, that night (Saturday), I dreamed that I went back and looked at the test again, to find that it was positive after all. The dream was so vivid that it haunted me all Sunday morning, until I finally went and looked at it again right before going to church. To my surprise, I saw that there was a very faint blue line forming the positive symbol of a "+" sign. I couldn't believe my eyes, therefore took it to church with me to show to my mom and ask her opinion (as technically, you aren't supposed to trust any readings on the test that may or may not appear after the first ten minutes of taking it). She said it was very likely that I was pregnant, and that I should wait a few more days and take another one.
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<br /></span></div> <div><span class="890042416-03082011"></span> </div> <div><span class="890042416-03082011">I decided to wait until the next weekend...but Donald couldn't stand the suspense, and requested that I take it the following Wednesday morning. So I did (carefully following all the instructions, this time), and there was no doubting the positive sign this time!! :-D
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<br />I am sooooo excited!!!! In fact, I think I'm more excited than I was with Danielle, simply because I know now how amazing the whole process is. God is soooo good! And I'm convinced that He sent me that dream Saturday night to tell me that I needed to take a second look, and not be in such a rush this time. :-P
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<br />It was so much fun telling my family and the church the following Sunday. I pinned a sign to the back of Danielle that said, "Big Sister," and carried her around to let people see her. I loved the reactions we got. My favorites were when people read the sign, and started to walk off, then did a double-take and quickly turned back and said something along the lines of "Congratulations! I'm so excited for you!" followed by lots of hugs. :-) Those double-takes are fun.
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<br />I've been pretty tired and nauseous with this pregnancy...maybe more so than with Danielle, which may be because I'm still nursing her. I have continued to exercise, trying to keep my muscles toned so that maybe my next birthing experience will be a lot easier than my last one. And, this pregnancy has been strange thus far, in that even though I feel like I do nothing but eat all day long, I've actually lost 2 pounds (which puts me at a pound lower than I was when I got pregnant with Danielle)! That definitely didn't happen with Danielle. But I'm thinking it's because the nausea has been so bad that I can't eat much in one sitting, and have to eat small portions at a time in order to avoid repercussions.
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<br />Anyway...there's a little update for you. I'll try to be a bit better about writing in the future...hopefully. Now I'd better get some cleaning done while I still have the energy, and while Danielle is taking her morning nap.
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<br />Oh, and just so you all know, Danielle now finally has her first tooth, with a second one coming in! She got the first one 3 days after her first birthday...I guess she was slow on that to make up for the fact that she learned to do everything else early. :-P And she is still the most adorable little girl in the entire world, and is so sweet, loving, and obedient (for her age), that I'm continually in awe that God gave me such a Blessing. :-) God is good, is He not?
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<br />Blessings,
<br />Melody
<br /></span></div>MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-59997588376494373422011-05-18T18:42:00.002-05:002011-05-18T19:19:41.483-05:00Recent Happenings...It's been quite a while since I wrote anything for my blog... I must confess that (1) I've been really busy, and (2) I just haven't been inspired to write anything--and for me, writing comes mostly by inspiration (and just so you know, this blog post has no inspiration whatsoever behind it--I just thought it was high time that I write something).<br /><br />So...what has been going on in my household/life lately?<br /><br />Hmm...<br /><br />I guess the last time I wrote was shortly before I had an operation on my arm to remove a small, benign tumor (called a Lipoma), that (due to its location) was causing me pain--especially while nursing. That was an adventure that I don't want to repeat. After giving me some local anesthesia, the doctor left the room for a while to let it "kick in." Well...he waited so long to return, that by the time they started cutting into my arm, I could feel it, as the medication had worn off.<br /><br />Upon noticing my grimaces, my Mom (who kindly came to the operation with me) asked the doctor if I was supposed to be feeling anything. The doctor looked surprised upon finding out that I could still feel, and then proceeded to give me another shot (ick!). After that, the surgery, while uncomfortable (as I could feel them pulling on my skin and muscles), was relatively painless, and I got through it by quoting Scripture and reminding myself that if I could go through 53 hours of pain in childbirth, that I could surely get through a 30 minute procedure.<br /><br />I took me a few days to be able to move that arm at all, so I was very grateful for my sister Harmony staying with me until I got over the worst of it. And now, about four weeks later, my arm feels almost completely normal again--aside from some slight tenderness if pressure is put on that area.<br /><br />Danielle (age 10 1/2 months) has learned to crawl, pull up on everything(!), stand by herself, and walk with a walker. She has quite the little personality, and laughs at the strangest things--such as my blowing on my soup to cool it off. :-P She is such a delight, and I daily marvel at her and thank God for her. It is hard for me to believe that next month she will be a year old! Time has gone too quickly (and yet dragged at the same time), and I can hardly believe that the baby I gave birth to is now wearing size 12 month clothing.<br /><br />Speaking of which, I recently made the two of us matching outfits. As soon as I get the picture from my sister, I shall post it here so you can see it.<br /><br />In April (before my arm surgery), Donald built me a raised bed, which I then filled with layers of dirt, leaves, compost, and straw, and planted a vegetable garden. I had always wanted to plant a vegetable garden, so now that I've had a baby (the other thing I always wanted to do), I decided that should be the next womanly art to master. And yes, I say "womanly." After all, wives are to be "keepers at home," and Proverbs 31 tells us that part of that is providing food for her family, whether by planting it herself, or buying from the "merchants."<br /><br />It has been an adventure...I never knew there were so many different ways to grow a garden! I probably did it all wrong...but despite that, I have large squash and zucchini, corn, bell pepper, green bean, sweet potato, English pea, tomato, cantaloupe, cucumber, and turnip plants growing--some with their first fruits on them! Now to see if I can keep them growing, or whether I have a "brown thumb." :-P<br /><br />I have also been on an exercising rampage, which started back in February when I won a one month membership to Stroller Strides--a fitness group for moms and their babies. Wow, let me tell you, that was a workout! I stuck with them until the end of March, and then have continued on my own at a local park with my mother-in-law, who meets me there every morning to walk while I do my own program. I have managed to burn off 9 pounds since I started! Now only 6-7 lbs. more to go to reach my pre-pregnancy weight! Whoohoo! :-) It's been a lot of hard work, but I love feeling fit and "in shape." :-)<br /><br />Anyway...there's a little summary of our recent doings. There has been a lot of other things that I have been doing in recent days, but none of it is really striking me as worth putting on the blog at the moment. Plus, Danielle is getting antsy and is wanting Mommy's attention...so I guess I should get away from the computer and go feed her some sweet potatoes. :-P<br /><br />Blessings,<br />MelodyMelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-33083023191320652312011-05-09T18:17:00.003-05:002011-05-09T18:24:32.202-05:00Abiding in ChristAs a favor to my dear sister, Grace, I am posting something that I wrote 4 years ago. When I wrote this, God was taking me on a special journey along the road of Trials in order that I might know Him better. Grace has been asking me about the subject of which God especially taught me during that time, and has asked that I post the article on my blog so that she and others might read it again. So here you are, sister dear. Enjoy! :-)<br /><br />A Lesson in Abiding<br /><br />“Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me. I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing” (John 15:4-5).<br /><br />“And now, little children, abide in him; that, when he shall appear, we may have confidence, and not be ashamed before him at his coming” (1 John 2:28).<br /><br />Who would not want to have confidence when standing before their Savior? Who would not want to bring forth much fruit? However, the prerequisite to these two things appears to stem from abiding in Christ.<br /><br />I had memorized these verses, but never understood them. Desperation to understand them would at times flood my soul, and I would eagerly review the verses—saying them over and over again to myself, hoping to gain an insight into their meaning. Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance did not add to my understanding either. The verses remained as meaningless as ever.<br /><br />The Fatal Day<br />Friday, February 9, 2007<br /><br />I awakened on Friday at my usual time, and begin going about my “normal” day’s activities (i.e., taking a shower, getting dressed, reading my Bible, having breakfast, going to staff meeting, and then to work…), little knowing that on this day I would begin and adventure in abiding that would allow me to comprehend the importance of these verses.<br /><br />The adventure began with my daily memorization time. I sat down with my Bible and began memorizing 1 John 3. After I had memorized about ten verses of this chapter, I decided to review 1 John 1 and 2, and also John 15. As usual, those verses bewildered me. However, this time a “brilliant” thought struck me: “If you cannot understand these verses, then why not go to the Author of the Word and ask Him what they mean?”<br /><br />This thought flashed through my brain like a thunderbolt, leaving me feeling somewhat stupid that I had not thought of it before then. So, in my morning prayer time, I petitioned the Lord that He would reveal the meaning of those verses to me sometime that day. However, I little knew how many times He would literally reveal this concept of abiding in Him during the days following that prayer.<br /><br />The Mission:<br /><br />Print a Quark Express document (i.e., Parent Guide Planner 43) to a postscript file; insert the postscript file into Adobe Distiller, and from there into Adobe Acrobat, thereby making a PDF of Parent Guide Planner 43. Then, take the PDF and post it on a website so that our reviewers could view the document and edit it. Sounds simple right? Just a few simple clicks of the mouse, and it should be finished in about five minutes.<br /><br />Mission Aborted?<br /><br />For over an hour I sat at my computer boggled and frustrated. All the postscript files said that they were corrupted. Then Quark document decided to crash, and none of the backups would open. Repeatedly, I tried the familiar steps, but to no avail. Disheartened, I knew not what to do. I was already an hour late for a Valentine Banquet planning meeting, and as it was now after six (over an hour after office closing time) there was no one to consult with about my problem. Finally, another thought struck my poor brain: “Pray!”<br /><br />Mission Accomplished!<br /><br />And so I prayed. “Father, I don’t know what is wrong with this document. I’ve tried everything, but it won’t even open for me. However, you are the Creator of the universe, and you know all things. Can you please lay your hand upon this document and allow me to open it?”<br /><br />Continuing in prayer, I clicked once more on the document—holding my breath. Miracle of miracles, it opened! “Thank you Father,” I prayed. Now, to make a postscript of the file… What!? It still would not work! Again I prayed, “Father, please allow me to get this to work!” Lo and behold, no sooner had I prayed than I finally got it to work. From then on, every thing I tried to do would not work until I had prayed first—so with each click of the mouse, I prayed desperately. Finally, nearly two hours after beginning this “five minute” procedure, I had completed the task—glory be to His holy name!<br /><br />I then questioned the Lord, “Father, what was that all about? Why couldn’t it have gone smoothly as usual?” Instantly, the words, “Abide in me, and I in you…for without me ye can do nothing” flashed through my mind. “Ah hah!” I thought. “So, I can’t even click a mouse without your help, is that it Lord? I have to rely on you to do EVERYTHING? Is that part of abiding?” Finally, I felt that I had begun to understand a little of what it means to abide in Christ.<br /><br />Abiding Reinforced<br />Saturday, February 10, 2007<br /><br />Place: The Children’s Program for the annual Valentine’s Banquet here at HQ<br />Time: Around 8:30 p.m.<br /><br />What was I to do? I had four teams of children who would be coming to my assigned station in the China Room, where I was supposed to act the part of a persecuted Chinese believer and tell them stories for ten minutes. However, the art of story telling is one gift that I have always lacked. I tried rehearsing the stories a few times while I was waiting for the children to arrive. Oh dear! I kept stumbling over my words, and making an absolute mess of the story. How was I to tell these children stories that would not only keep their attention, but would also impact them for all eternity?<br /><br />Again, those beautiful words, “Abide in me, and I in you…for without me ye can do nothing,” flooded my mind. “Ok, Lord,” I prayed, “After yesterday’s experience with the computer, I know that I can do nothing without you. Therefore, can you please be with me tonight and give me the words to say? Because I can’t do it without your help.”<br /><br />The children arrived, and suddenly my nervous jitters vacated my soul to have the peace of God fill it instead. I sensed His presence and knew that He was with me. I soon became so engrossed in the story I was telling, that I felt as if I was the person in the story. The words continued to smoothly pour from my lips, and I knew that it was not I, but the Lord who was speaking through me. The children remained riveted on my every word, and they left with a whole new awareness of the persecuted believers of China. The Lord had again taught me to abide in Him and allow Him to work through me!<br /><br />An Earthen Vessel—Another Secret to Abiding<br />Monday morning, February 12, 2007<br /><br />During my morning Bible study, 2 Corinthians 4:7 jumped from the page: “But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.”<br /><br />Curios about what the word “power” meant in the Greek, I looked up the Strong’s numbers beside the word, and found the following. It was the Greek word “dunamis,” meaning power, ability, might, strength, or mighty work.<br /><br />I went back and read the previous verse: “For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”<br /><br />A picture began forming in my mind. God has shone His light into my heart in the person of Jesus Christ. However, I have this treasure—the treasure of the person of Jesus Christ—stored in the “earthen vessel” of my body. What is special about an earthen vessel? Nothing. It is the lowest and the humblest of all vessels. Even so, it can still contain something—or in this case, Someone. However, because of the glorious person of the Lord Jesus Christ dwelling inside the “earthen vessel” of my body, all my “power” or abilities come directly from Him, that He alone might receive the glory!<br /><br />At this realization, a sudden joy flooded my soul. “Why does this make me so happy?” I questioned. “Because it all goes back to abiding!” was the answer I received. “Abide in me, and I in you…for without me ye can do nothing.” Allowing Christ to work in and through me for the furthering of His kingdom. If I rest in Him—knowing that I can do nothing without Him, knowing that all “my” abilities come from Him—there is then no limit to what I can do for Jesus! This is why He said, “He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.”<br /><br />The Continuing Lesson<br /><br />Ever since that “fateful” day, the Lord has been giving me opportunities to see how truly weak and helpless I am, and how much I really need Him. An opportunity such as awakening one morning four weeks ago to find that I can’t turn my head to the left or to the right because of a sharp pain going from the base of my skull down through my shoulder blade. Or an opportunity such as walking home from Staff Meeting in the dark and failing to see a patch of ice which caused my feet to fly out from underneath me, thereby causing me to sprain my back and have whiplash in my neck. (These incidents occurred Sunday, February 18, 2007.) However, even in the midst of the ensuing pain and long recovery process, I can still thank and praise the Lord, because through it, He has shown me what a weak earthen vessel I am and that I truly can do nothing without Him.<br /><br />So, in conclusion, what do I now understand those verses to mean? Here is my paraphrase.<br /><br />“Abide in me. Rest in me. Gather all of your strength from me, and allow me to dwell in you. Just as a branch of a vine cannot bear fruit without the life-giving sustenance of the vine, neither can you bear fruit without relying on my strength and sustenance. If in everything you do, you realize that your strength is nothing and that you cannot do anything without my help, then, and only then, shall you be fruitful for the kingdom of God. Remember that all your abilities come from Me—your Creator and Life Giver—and without me working in and through you, you can truly do nothing.”<br /><br />Sounds simple, huh? On the contrary, it took several hard lessons to get it through my head. But, the Lord be praised, I now understand these verses in a whole new way, and am trusting that as I abide in Him, that He will work in and through me for the furthering of His kingdom.<br /><br />“Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me. I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing” (John 15:4-5).<br /><br />Amen.MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-58408071746740804142011-04-03T18:03:00.003-05:002011-04-03T19:15:17.727-05:00God Came to DinnerSuppose God came to your house for dinner. How would you behave? How would you treat Him? Many of us would no doubt be on our absolute best behavior, fix the nicest meal possible, and show Him every respect, courtesy, and social grace expected by hostesses of our time period. We would want the dinner to be as perfect as possible in order to either impress (if such a thing were possible!) or show our respect and love for God.<br /><br />That is how it should be....but let me tell you about a time God came to dinner, and met with rudeness, ridicule, and rejection.<br /><br />God came to dinner. A wealthy man had invited Him. One of thousands who had long looked for His coming, this man of political and religious power should have welcomed God with open arms, rejoicing in the fact that he had the inexpressible honor of playing "host" to God for the evening. But God came to dinner, and this man neither knew Him, nor received Him.<br /><br />God came to dinner, and in a time when it was an expected courtesy to wash your guest's feet to remove the grime and filth of travel (after all, they wore sandals and traveled on the same dirt roads that animals used! think about that...), to anoint him with perfumed oil to hide the stench of sweat mingled with body odor, and to greet him with a kiss, the God of the universe was snubbed, and had none of these social graces administered. God came to dinner...and He was rejected, reviled, mocked intentionally and without remorse. All who saw knew that the master of the house cared nothing for the Master of Creation--that the man was openly snubbing His Maker. God came to dinner, and received a "slap" in the face.<br /><br />God came to dinner, and blinded by his own self righteousness and perceived importance, the host saw nothing in his Messiah but an unattractive, poor carpenter with fanatical views. The man had long looked for the coming of the "Promised One," but when He came to his house, the host only showed disdain for His person and message. God came to dinner, and no one cared.<br /><br />But wait...one did. An uninvited guest--a sinful woman of questionable character came to the dinner that night. Weeping, she made her way to the table, and came and knelt at His feet. The host had failed to wash His feet, but the woman washed His filthy feet with her tears, and wiped them with her hair. The host did not offer Him a kiss of welcome, but the woman covered His feet with kisses. The host had not offered Him any ointment to cover the smells of travel, but the woman brought an alabaster box of ointment, and poured it on His feet.<br /><br />God came to dinner, and an uninvited guest showed Him love, gratitude, and acceptance. God came to dinner, and showed that He was indeed God by forgiving the woman of her sins. God came to dinner, and though rejected by His host, He received glory, adoration, and love from the heart of a grateful and repentant sinner who alone recognized Who He truly was.<br /><br />Has God ever come to your "house" for "dinner"? How did you treat Him? Jesus said that "...inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."<br /><br />Have you ever seen a person you judged as a great sinner because of how they looked on the outside (covered in piercings, tattoos, dressed immodestly, exhibiting an angry/bitter spirit, etc.), and started judging them instead of loving and praying for them? I have. Yet perhaps those are the very people whom God would have us love and win to Him! Perhaps we should learn to not focus on their outward appearance, but on their hearts and souls that are in desperate need of a Savior's love and forgiveness.<br /><br />Or, have you ever seen a fellow believer who maybe didn't have the same values as you, or looked poor, ugly, undesirable, or unpopular, whom you didn't want to associate with due to the implications it might have on your reputation? I have done this also. How foolish! God is in that person, and how sorrowful He must be as He watches us snub one of His own children!<br /><br />God comes to our "house" for "dinner" so often--almost every day--and yet how often do we actually recognize Him, and receive Him? We are no better than that self righteous Pharisee who invited Jesus to his home for dinner so long ago (Luke 7:36-50)!<br /><br />Oh that God would open our eyes and our hearts to see the "least" person He has sent into our lives, so that when He "comes to dinner" through them, we could treat them with the respect, love, and honor that HE deserves.<br /><br />These are just a few of the thoughts running through my head today, inspired by the sermon my father preached at church this morning.<br /><br />Oh that I loved my Savior as He deserves! Oh that I felt the gratitude for His great sacrifice on the cross that I should! For if I did, then that love and gratitude would pour out of me into others, thereby obeying the second greatest commandment, to love my neighbor as myself. For only by obeying the first and greatest commandment ever given, can I even hope to obey the second.<br /><br />"...A lawyer, asked [Jesus] a question, tempting him, and saying, Master, which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets" (Matthew 22:35-40).<br /><br />Seeking to know and love the Lover of my soul,<br />MelodyMelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-38342019366669571122011-03-09T09:34:00.002-06:002011-03-09T09:41:28.966-06:00PeaceI have been dwelling on verses from the Gospel of John all morning, reminding myself that though the world is falling apart, I still have an Anchor to the Solid Rock of Jesus Christ. Here are just a few of the verses. I won't give any commentary on them, as they don't need any. Just let the Word of God speak to your heart.<br /><br />"Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also" (John 14:1-3).<br /><br />"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid" (John 14:27).<br /><br />"These things I have spoken unto you, that<span style="font-weight: bold;"> in</span> me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; <span style="font-weight: bold;">I have overcome the world</span>" (John 16:33).<br /><br />Yes, only in Jesus, the Prince of Peace, can we ever find perfect peace and rest. Let's turn to Him with our whole hearts!<br /><br />Blessings,<br />MelodyMelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-52003277887917602292011-03-02T13:07:00.004-06:002011-03-02T13:32:02.859-06:00Our RefugeIn a day and age where the world seems to be spinning out of control, when the stench of sin permeates the air you breathe, when economic collapse seems certain, when the sanctity of marriage is treated as worthless, when countless babies are sacrificed (i.e., murdered) on the altar of selfishness and convenience, and when you just don't know what to do or where to go, there is a Refuge.<br /><br />This Refuge has been a Strong Tower through every storm. No tempest has ever marred its pristine walls; no tumult has ever shaken its foundation. Throughout the pages of history, this Sanctuary has sheltered the hungry, the naked, the weak, the sick, the persecuted, and the forsaken, and has given them food, clothing, strength, health, defense, and friendship. No other Refuge has ever stood so sure--so strong throughout the ages. No other has given of itself so freely, without expectation of return.<br /><br />Within its walls, you can find rest, comfort, hope, sustenance, joy, love, and peace--peace like no other, and peace without end. Yes, this our Refuge, our Strong Tower, our Hope--our God and Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He calls to us, saying,<br /><br />"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28).<br /><br />"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid" (John 14:27).<br /><br />And, "lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen" (Matthew 28:20).<br /><br />Yes, our God is a refuge for us. Let us flee to Him, and rest in the shelter of His mighty hand.<br /><br />"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble" (Psalm 46:1).<br /><br />"The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge" (Psalm 46:7).<br /><br />"The name of the LORD is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe" (Proverbs 18:10).<br /><br />"The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower" (Psalm 18:2).<br /><br />"Be thou my strong habitation, whereunto I may continually resort: thou hast given commandment to save me; for thou art my rock and my fortress." (Psalm 71:3).<b><br /><br /></b>"I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust" (Psalm 91:2).<br /><br />Blessings,<br />MelodyMelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-92022145361978880662011-02-28T14:32:00.008-06:002011-03-02T13:31:39.019-06:00Valentine's Candy or True Love?Imagine you are a wife out on a shopping trip the afternoon before Valentine's Day. As you walk through the store, you notice your husband is at one of the cash registers. Surprised, you walk toward him, hoping to give him a hug, and surprise him with your presence also. But wait...you notice that he has purchased roses and Valentine's candy--undoubtedly for you. You don't want to spoil his surprise, so you jump into a side aisle to watch and wait for him to leave. As he nears the exit, a beautiful, but immodest (or scantily clad) woman enters and walks past him. You notice that your husband stops, turns, and gazes after her with a delighted, but lustful look in his eyes, before finally turning to leave the store with his "gift of love" in his hand for you.<br /><br />You are stunned, disappointed, crestfallen, angry. How could you even begin to think of ever accepting his gift, his "offering of love" now? You know now that it is not a symbol of his undying love for you, but a mere offering to "earn points," and to keep you happy with him for another year. Whatever will you do now?<br /><br />Now imagine that you are another wife at that same store who also sees her husband buying her a gift. He walks out on the heels of the first husband, and also passes by the scantily clad, but beautiful woman. He barely catches a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye, before turning his eyes, and indeed, his whole body in the opposite direction in order to avoid seeing her.<br /><br />You watch, and feel jubilant, loved, cherished. Your husband loved you enough to keep his eyes for you and you alone. You will adore him, and cherish the gift that he purchased for you, because you know it came from the heart, and that he loves you above all others.<br /><br />Now...there are several applications to this story, and I will just mention three.<br /><br />1. Most women would read this, and say hurray for the second husband! If only all men were like him! Indeed, if only all men were like him. If only every man would purpose in his heart to set no evil thing before his eyes (Ps. 101:3). What a difference that would make in marriages today! I know a young man who made a "covenant" with his eyes (based on Job 31:1--"I made a covenant with mine eyes; why then should I think upon a maid?"). One day, my dad rode with him through a section of the city that was filled with billboards advertising night clubs--which of course had defrauding women on them. Dad watched the young man's eyes, and saw that they never strayed to the right or left but stayed focused on the road ahead. Since that day, God has blessed him richly in both his marriage and in his business.<br /><br />2. How many of us come to church every Sunday to present our "candy and flowers" (tithes, offerings, attendance, etc.) to God, and then instantly turn around the next day and begin lusting after the things of the world? "Ye adulterers and adulteresses, know ye not that the friendship of the world is enmity with God? Whosoever therefore will be a friend of the world is the enemy of God" (James 4:4). How this must hurt our Savior, the Lover of our souls! And believe me, I do not preach this section to anyone but myself. For I far too often am guilty of this very thing. Too often do I push God to the side, thinking that I'm too busy to spend quality time with Him. Too often do I enjoy watching an old, funny movie more than I do reading the Word of God. Oh foolish me! "O wretched [girl] that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord...."<br />"O Lord, open thou my lips; and my mouth shall shew forth thy praise. For thou desirest not sacrifice; else would I give it: thou delightest not in burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise" (Ps. 51:15-17). This is true love for God--not just symbolic candy! May we each be like an adoring bride, and have eyes and ears for only our Lord, our Maker, and our Husband (Isaiah 54:5)!<br /><br />3. Ladies, ladies...how dare we ever allow our dress to cause our brothers in Christ to stumble! Yes, they should guard their eyes, but why should they even have the reason to do so in the first place??? God, through His servant Paul, says in Romans 14:21, "It is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, nor any thing whereby thy brother stumbleth or is offended, or is made weak." Yes, that verse has to do with food...but should it not also have to do with our actions as well? For Paul also says in 1 Corinthians 10:31, "Whether therefore ye eat, or drink<span style="font-weight: bold;">,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">or whatsoever ye do</span>, do all to the glory of God." Doesn't it make sense then, that we should dress for the glory of God, and in such a manner as to keep our brothers in Christ from stumbling?<br /><br />Now, my dad has always told me that a man can lust after a woman even if she's dressed in a potato sack... And while that may or may not be true, there is still no reason for us to "flaunt" our bodies before them. When a woman wears a low cut blouse (it doesn't even have to necessarily show any cleavage, but even if it shows only a slight "dip"), a man's eyes will be instantly drawn there, and their minds will begin imagining what the rest looks like.<br /><br />If a woman wears a skirt that is too short (and in my definition [and my husband's!], anything that is not at least 2 inches below the knee is too short), they will inevitably show more leg than they intend as they walk and move about their day. A man's eyes are instantly drawn to their legs, and they begin wondering how much more they can see. When a woman wears a shirt, or skirt/pants that are too form fitting (even if they're covered from head to toe in material!), if a man can see too much of an outline of their form, his eyes will be drawn to their body, and he will be able to imagine only too well what lies underneath.<br /><br />Yes, this may make a man sound like he's sick...and he is! He is a sinner just like us of the opposite gender! But God made a man to be sight-oriented, and they are naturally aroused by the things they see. That is a wonderful thing when kept within the bounds of marriage. But outside of that, it can lead to temptation, fornication or adultery. And again, while they need to make a covenant with their eyes and God, we women need to do our part.<br /><br />Every day I pray that God will blind my husband to defrauding women he might encounter in his day, as he goes about his job (and believe me, he sees a lot in his line of work!), and that the Lord will keep Donald's mind stayed on Him. Is it therefore any wonder that I might feel perturbed when I go to church and see a woman who is not dressed appropriately? I actually had to tell my husband recently to not look at a woman, because I felt that she was dressed immodestly, and I didn't want my husband to see her and then struggle with thoughts that he shouldn't be struggling with in the first place!<br /><br />It is my job as a wife to try and shield my husband from those areas of temptation as much as possible. This is practice I began long before my marriage, and it started with my dad and brother. In fact, my brother once called me his "moral compass." Whenever we went out, I would tell him to look another direction if I saw a defrauding woman approaching. If we went to a restaurant, and an immodest woman sat at the table next to us, I would tell my brother and dad to sit on a side of the table where they couldn't see her. And yes, it is impossible to keep them from seeing every immodest woman that comes along, but I can try to help as much as possible! This practice has become a habit with me, and I continue it with my husband to this day.<br /><br />While my husband is the most loyal and faithful man I have ever known, I also realize that he is still a man and a sinner--and no man is above struggling with sexual temptations. Therefore, I am exceedingly jealous over my husband. I want his eyes to be for me and for no other woman. I therefore keep a zealous watch, and strive to keep the most valuable thing he has ever given me: his heart. This is how I display true love to not only my husband, but to all my brothers in Christ. Because I love them as brothers, I do not want to ever give them "eye candy," thereby becoming a cause of stumbling to them!<br /><br />So women, here is my plea: when you get dressed in the morning, pretend like Jesus is standing in the mirror with you (and I assure you He is!). Does He approve of what you are wearing? Ask your husband (or your father, brother, etc.) if he approves of your clothing--and specifically, if he were to see this outfit on another woman, what would it make him think? Because while some men don't think twice about what their wife wears (due to the fact that she is his wife, and it's okay for them to look at and think about her), if they were to see the same outfit on another woman, it would be a whole different matter in a lot of cases! Whenever I am unsure about an outfit, I always ask my husband what he thinks (and I used to do this with my dad and brother before marriage), and he is always happy to give me his honest opinion. Indeed, there have actually been a few outfits that he has asked me not to wear in public, and I try to honor those wishes, since the Bible says that my body belongs to my husband--and he also zealously guards it and wants to keep it for himself! (1 Cor. 7:4--"The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband: and likewise also the husband hath not power of his own body, but the wife.")<br /><br />Then, finally, if it is too low cut, too short, or too tight (form fitting, so that it shows every curve of your body), DON'T WEAR IT!<br /><br />Also, if you are wearing a skirt, do be careful how you sit. All too often, my husband has told me (or I have seen for myself!) of a woman who was wearing a relatively long skirt, but did not sit correctly, and showed far more to the world than she ever wanted them to see! (Sometimes I think we women might be better off if we went back to the days of wearing bloomers under our dresses...) And I know that a lot of women have a "skirts only" belief. And I understand and appreciate that belief. But if the job calls for it (i.e., if you're going to be in a situation where it is difficult to remain modest in a skirt--such as gardening, horse back riding, skating, hiking, etc.), then please do wear pants. God can and will be honored by a decision (as long as the pants are modest that is--not too tight, low riding, etc.) made to cover what He meant to keep private. After all, He actually commanded the priests to wear pants under their long robes in order to keep their private areas covered as they went up the steps to the altar (Exodus 28:42)!<br /><br />Ultimately, though, PRAY about your clothing, dress for the glory of God, and PLEASE purpose in your heart to shield your brothers in Christ from temptation by dressing modestly at all times.<br /><br />Anyway...I have had those points impressed on my heart, and I just needed an outlet for them, otherwise I might have burst at the seams. :-P And this is what this blog is for (and if you don't like it, don't read it!). If you were offended by anything I said, then I am sorry, but I do not apologize for what I said, because these are my convictions, and I believe that they are God-given. A conviction is something that you are willing to die for--and I would die before I intentionally wore anything I knew to be immodest outside of my bedroom.<br /><br />May God guide us in His path of Righteousness, keep a watch over our eyes, teach us to truly love Him and each other, help us to put aside things of this world by being in love with Him, and reveal His perfect and matchless will to all those who truly seek Him.<br /><br />Blessings,<br />Melody<br /><br />p.s., a disclaimer here... The story at the beginning was not completely mine. It was an embellished tale based on a true story I heard from my instructor at Faith Bible Institute. Also, all my references to what men think when they see certain types of clothing are not just things I made up--they are actual facts based on what my husband, father, brother, and other men have told me. Also, please don't think that I'm saying that we all need to start dressing like we're on Little House on the Prairie--because I'm not! There are plenty of ways to dress stylishly, without being immodest. I know many women who have mastered this art, and they are some of the most beautiful, pure women I know. Also, please do not ever dress in a certain way in order to attract a man. If they are attracted to you for your looks, then you don't want them!MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-62619096448109460292011-02-10T23:01:00.002-06:002011-02-10T23:08:30.620-06:00Adventure is Out There!Some days, I think to myself, "I want to do something really adventurous...something spectacular with my life." And then I remember that I'm a mother...and that's just about the greatest adventure there is.<br /><br />It was once said that "The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world." And that, my friends, is a sobering, but true statement. I have a great responsibility laid on these shoulders of bringing up my baby to be a godly young woman of virtue. In some respects, I will have more to do with influencing her life for either good or evil than any other person, as I am with her 24/7. WOW. How dare I not think that motherhood is an adventure!<br /><br />Yes, this is my adventure. This is my spectacular feat. Motherhood. Attempting to lead a young life toward and in the paths of righteousness. A Proverbs 31:10-31 life. Wow.<br /><br />May the Lord help me!MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-71322959735494706702011-02-09T21:08:00.003-06:002011-02-09T21:32:12.503-06:00The answer to a perplexing situation, and Danielle's progress in life.I posted a while back about my confusion as to whether I should start Danielle on solid foods. Well, within three days of writing that, I had my answer. It came with a simple weight check. Donald decided that we should weigh our little darling to see how she had progressed, and to our dismay, she had regressed! She had lost 7 oz since the last time we weighed her. I then decided to start her on solid foods right away.<br /><br />I first gave her banana...she didn't like that very much at all.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhissJAyCUKjJJsSnEZMSDHqp09N4kG1aQhoDg-Mn-jcdDChcl76_3Eyb9suI6gnarYqjMrGnkXpv_GcV8rXB_VdTLf1dahvMrYqsf54Qn7e9FvqXf7hvpWh0spnUaQc4U_caEx_Td0kPg/s1600/CIMG5737.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhissJAyCUKjJJsSnEZMSDHqp09N4kG1aQhoDg-Mn-jcdDChcl76_3Eyb9suI6gnarYqjMrGnkXpv_GcV8rXB_VdTLf1dahvMrYqsf54Qn7e9FvqXf7hvpWh0spnUaQc4U_caEx_Td0kPg/s320/CIMG5737.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571897893151551762" border="0" /></a>I then gave her avocado--which she absolutely loved (probably because I've eaten so much of it over the last several months), followed by sweet potato, which she also loved (and tomorrow she gets to try green beans!). In the last two weeks since I've started her on solids (I just feed her once a day, so far), she's gained well over a pound. So I think she's right on track again.<br /><br />In an effort to save money and keep my baby healthy, I have been making my own baby food. It is sooo simple that I don't see why more moms don't do this. I merely choose my vegetable, cook it (usually steam it), blend it up, place it in an ice cube tray, cover it with foil, and freeze it. Once the food is frozen, I pop out the cubes, and place them in freezer bags. Then, about an hour before I want to feed her, I get out a cube (which is one serving) or more, and set it out to thaw. It is sooo simple (literally only takes me 5 minutes to prepare enough food for 2 weeks worth of meals), saves lots of money, and is a much healthier alternative. So I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself over that. :-)<br /><br />Now...as to Danielle's progress in life. I am happy to announce that yesterday she learned to go from all fours to a sitting position. Then, she also scooted across the room to me, pushing with her back legs and pulling with her arms. Now that she's learned those two tricks, she is quite mobile, and therefore goes wherever she wants, and can sit up whenever she wants (which she is really pleased about that one, as she loves sitting up).<br /><br />She is such a little joy, and I just cannot imagine life without her. I especially love how excited she gets when she sees me first thing in the morning, and knows she's about to be fed. This morning, she nearly jumped out of her daddy's arms with excitement. It was sooo cute. :-)<br /><br />Anyway...there's a little update. Life in general is going pretty well. Last night, I went to a nursing mothers' group and won a membership and one month's worth of unlimited lessons with Stroller Strides (www.strollerstrides.com), so am super excited about that, and hope to start on that soon, and lose the rest of this pregnancy weight.<br /><br />I guess in a nutshell, this sums up my life right now: God and my husband are much better to me than I deserve, and seem to love me despite my failures/weaknesses. And I'm especially glad that babies are so forgiving, and seldom remember their mother's mistakes. ;-)<br /><br />Blessings,<br />Melody<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8H9LKWnCPlO6CDopgQcR9WlCg4uqRsWxzIYwMcBP1sSOXu5DTq1Mbl57igSXHTfL9SC5lL0EhL-1AUJC7od8uawIZb04BnpitlWHL6YwrL8wTuvE1RwGzT4LsAzAnM8OMsP2GFUGioLM/s1600/IMG_2838-edit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8H9LKWnCPlO6CDopgQcR9WlCg4uqRsWxzIYwMcBP1sSOXu5DTq1Mbl57igSXHTfL9SC5lL0EhL-1AUJC7od8uawIZb04BnpitlWHL6YwrL8wTuvE1RwGzT4LsAzAnM8OMsP2GFUGioLM/s320/IMG_2838-edit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571897894976485554" border="0" /></a>MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-50021164418359828182011-01-20T16:04:00.006-06:002011-01-20T16:22:38.776-06:00Seeking Wisdom...I am discovering that as a parent, there are a lot of decisions to be made. In some areas, there isn't really a right or a wrong choice, while others are more crucial. I have always had a hard time making decisions, and have always told either my father (before marriage) or my husband to just "tell me what to do, and I'll do it." And, sometimes, they would oblige me. However, my husband has ceased to do that, and tells me that I need to learn to make my own decisions...so I can no longer use him as a crutch.<br /><br />Anyway...all that to say, I hate making decisions. Therefore, I am having a hard time right now deciding what to do about my little girl. She is now 6 1/2 months old, and I still have not started her on solid foods. I have done a great deal of research on the subject, besides asking my midwife, a lactation consultant, and several moms about their opinion. But it all boils down to the fact that I'm the mother, and I know what is best.<br /><br />Some say the longer you can go on breastmilk only, the better for the baby. Others say it's dangerous to go past 6 months without introducing solids. Others say that the baby will tell you when she's ready for solids. So...while I'm trying to decide what is best for my baby, she continues on breastmilk alone. :-P<br /><br />However, she has been sooo cranky the last couple of days, and just doesn't seem like her normal self--and for the last few days I haven't felt as though my milk supply is quite what it should be. So, it's either that she's cutting a tooth, or maybe my milk isn't doing it for her anymore. Therefore, I am pondering whether or not I should start her on some solid food (a.k.a., avocado). There doesn't seem to be a right or a wrong answer to this situation...I just have to make the decision...which I hate doing. :-P<br /><br />So, I am praying right now for a special dose of Mother Wisdom to be bestowed on me by the One who gives wisdom liberally to all those who ask it of Him.<br /><br />There's just a peek into one of the many conundrums of being a mother...<br /><br />Blessings,<br />MelodyMelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-75134022488531296252011-01-13T21:44:00.004-06:002011-01-13T22:16:31.817-06:00"Spring Creek twice in one week, and I'm a happy man...""Spring Creek twice in one week, and I'm a happy man..." said my husband just a few minutes ago. Spring Creek Barbeque twice in one week you ask? Yes! Here my husband and I hardly ever go out to eat on our own, and here we are eating twice at the same restaurant within a three day period. How is that possible?<br /><br />Well...<br /><br />We went to Spring Creek on Tuesday evening, intending to use a gift card given to my husband for Christmas. When we got to the cashier, we found that it was an old friend we knew from a church we used to attend. When she saw us, we talked for a little, and when my husband went to get out his wallet to pay for our dinner, she said, "Oh, it's on me. Don't worry about it." Surprised, we thanked her profusely, and then sat down to enjoy our free, and very yummy dinner.<br /><br />We didn't have the baby with us that evening (as her GiGi had volunteered to watch her to give us a date night), so we promised our friend that we'd be back later this week with the baby so that she could see her. So, we went back tonight, and got to show off our baby to Caitlin, and use our gift card too. Thus, we had two free meals this week at Spring Creek--two meals that I didn't have to prepare. It was wonderful!<br /><br />Also, Danielle has always had a fascination with Spring Creek cups, as she seems particularly fascinated with the colors red and yellow. Thus far, she has always played with her Daddy's big cups--and they can keep her occupied for a long time too. So tonight when we were at the restaurant, we mentioned this to Caitlin, who said, "Well, would she like one her own size?" And she immediately went behind the counter and grabbed a small cup and brought it to her. Danielle is in love... Finally, her favorite cup, in her own size. :-D<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaCvorUHZt3HFN6A_COmp5vncTnZb3IFTHM55SgCR7psB7m4mWnS8b9yRZNs9qwSM3S1RgZbd4RpSm0eV3fGO_IZyl7SG7AwRE8_WgBWtrURIc7enA02Tr4bSdvDKZJIp4xYg2Ujb3DCw/s1600/CIMG5722.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/AVvXsEjaCvorUHZt3HFN6A_COmp5vncTnZb3IFTHM55SgCR7psB7m4mWnS8b9yRZNs9qwSM3S1RgZbd4RpSm0eV3fGO_IZyl7SG7AwRE8_WgBWtrURIc7enA02Tr4bSdvDKZJIp4xYg2Ujb3DCw/s320/CIMG5722.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561886994364502274" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlo6HmuBq-77vTyTqW7EUWlh8Bw530tKFWqnQ5KWB4ZHCI6Qkkz_bBut8zLWkBAbibFlwDqMvUV5dXjQ_fh-9yr-GuQ_Zx46lWmjK5rkXiDqVARZMl1tjZONFynzoIba6_HxDywx80K6o/s1600/CIMG5719.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/AVvXsEhlo6HmuBq-77vTyTqW7EUWlh8Bw530tKFWqnQ5KWB4ZHCI6Qkkz_bBut8zLWkBAbibFlwDqMvUV5dXjQ_fh-9yr-GuQ_Zx46lWmjK5rkXiDqVARZMl1tjZONFynzoIba6_HxDywx80K6o/s320/CIMG5719.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561886988530224882" border="0" /></a><br />Anyway, there's one of our adventures for the week. God sure knows how to give unexpected gifts.<br /><br />Blessings,<br />MelodyMelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-81568858822007255552011-01-06T14:52:00.008-06:002011-01-06T16:01:21.190-06:00Christmas, New Years, Anniversary, etc.The last couple of weeks have been packed full of so many travels and adventures, that quite frankly, I don't even know where to begin...and indeed, I don't think I shall even try to go into much detail, as the very thought is overwhelming.<br /><br />So, I shall give a brief sketch of our adventures...<br /><br />Saturday, December 18th, we had our first Christmas with Donald's parents and sister. It was a lot of fun, and I enjoyed the day immensely (as I usually do when getting to spend time with my wonderful in-laws!). Danielle enjoyed the day too, especially since her kind grandparents gave her an exersaucer. :-)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4mJQCrsUo_GO9GHcHomcjrdmtxk89A1Wtr9lqfoQb3yfRXsNP0-kqkmkdlUMBK3OEuaEdB2Qql7ThMieHtwMB5BL9HfkWthgnZR2vNs4fzepoMQ7siWgUQkSgRZERpMFk4CiaQ7TWn1s/s1600/100_5496.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4mJQCrsUo_GO9GHcHomcjrdmtxk89A1Wtr9lqfoQb3yfRXsNP0-kqkmkdlUMBK3OEuaEdB2Qql7ThMieHtwMB5BL9HfkWthgnZR2vNs4fzepoMQ7siWgUQkSgRZERpMFk4CiaQ7TWn1s/s320/100_5496.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559187411237021826" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZoAQRAtCN2Ze3CyL_RlAz7_1bD2otAMrqxDuBHmTfETXhF8r2113of7t6YKFje9frAe7N3M1nLmQ1PEulrpVzFxi3ZFZoHvyWjh90t-dJ_7UOnwqhgTrewRxvWCHagSCb5OhOXhJQJbg/s1600/CIMG0072.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZoAQRAtCN2Ze3CyL_RlAz7_1bD2otAMrqxDuBHmTfETXhF8r2113of7t6YKFje9frAe7N3M1nLmQ1PEulrpVzFxi3ZFZoHvyWjh90t-dJ_7UOnwqhgTrewRxvWCHagSCb5OhOXhJQJbg/s320/CIMG0072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559187422555619554" border="0" /></a><br />I spent the next few days finishing up Christmas projects, such as Danielle's dress which I mentioned in my last blog... Isn't it cute?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwW14a-T2xxk1o4mhUnKBQUfBS_chY51atLrcFtO30gmZvhtyIlZb8EKWrh-mnkOI_4rQCCFrZ6LAk4Znj4Z14OFwl5UBxJOolby1lF2W5mhkKk7yNTFBOLGqh-eqc8tcoShGbbSkoTIE/s1600/CIMG0108.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwW14a-T2xxk1o4mhUnKBQUfBS_chY51atLrcFtO30gmZvhtyIlZb8EKWrh-mnkOI_4rQCCFrZ6LAk4Znj4Z14OFwl5UBxJOolby1lF2W5mhkKk7yNTFBOLGqh-eqc8tcoShGbbSkoTIE/s320/CIMG0108.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559187427941380946" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibbOAak7HpscUernJjkJh12vBfESM-ZE2lGQu4LHWPyLAlriJZs0lIkd6GK6NXwPYGdA49tPJtrgAs86_Kw-gxJQXM5-1dwAh7NeZuSk1PBV_f_UsLrG-nqybEDbvFsyJTzx6eIp6i2Dw/s1600/CIMG0098.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibbOAak7HpscUernJjkJh12vBfESM-ZE2lGQu4LHWPyLAlriJZs0lIkd6GK6NXwPYGdA49tPJtrgAs86_Kw-gxJQXM5-1dwAh7NeZuSk1PBV_f_UsLrG-nqybEDbvFsyJTzx6eIp6i2Dw/s320/CIMG0098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559187434976442754" border="0" /></a>I baked 82 cookies to take to family gatherings...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpu2LaKqAEzoCdKW9PV9bW2BHog-h-b7vUntNAh-j6ZIIj59i24iF2d9GQOEXvyWPJJfCbVnIxuQss8_XHmcCGU5p-Dl4-N4avD2AX3K_5f60Gasi4YleqsbptWEon4MF21F_zu1jXI-Q/s1600/CIMG0117.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpu2LaKqAEzoCdKW9PV9bW2BHog-h-b7vUntNAh-j6ZIIj59i24iF2d9GQOEXvyWPJJfCbVnIxuQss8_XHmcCGU5p-Dl4-N4avD2AX3K_5f60Gasi4YleqsbptWEon4MF21F_zu1jXI-Q/s320/CIMG0117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559187436414822322" border="0" /></a><br />And did a whole assortment of other things. At last, it was all done, and we were off on Wednesday, the 22nd, to Tyler, TX to spend time with my Dad's side of the family. We stayed the night at Mama-Doll's (my grandmother) house, where she and Danielle had lots of fun playing together.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhljfFJ69KGzUKwvSKQiFoCPmjvt7wWnVxQN8yZ5dBrLJadly3RuZ6jMAWvR5LTLOh5ggazlsIIGcWQ9-MU_XZP5-gT8YPzr06vbsZLzCGRawYcULG65Fbf2XkfrUd7hNi9225DD1k4zug/s1600/CIMG0123.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhljfFJ69KGzUKwvSKQiFoCPmjvt7wWnVxQN8yZ5dBrLJadly3RuZ6jMAWvR5LTLOh5ggazlsIIGcWQ9-MU_XZP5-gT8YPzr06vbsZLzCGRawYcULG65Fbf2XkfrUd7hNi9225DD1k4zug/s320/CIMG0123.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559189712738156530" border="0" /></a>The next day, we went to my Uncle Fred (Dad's older brother) and Aunt Claudia's house, where we had our Christmas with them. Danielle had fun getting acquainted with her relatives.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH_UBR0-JMJER3Lq6Jk4UzHeVJTTw1DQyL7OeSxoc7wH8s1itOd2MuAyNjxA3HqWpr8esz0OSn5p9QmFlAyx5yBajd56Rop7v4BBA1asG0OlcRzWKno3OBHo5ZKOaJfz1mqF4iI5K2EdY/s1600/CIMG0133.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH_UBR0-JMJER3Lq6Jk4UzHeVJTTw1DQyL7OeSxoc7wH8s1itOd2MuAyNjxA3HqWpr8esz0OSn5p9QmFlAyx5yBajd56Rop7v4BBA1asG0OlcRzWKno3OBHo5ZKOaJfz1mqF4iI5K2EdY/s320/CIMG0133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559189726659280914" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikJ3Qwmw5W6weMiY44nDuN-ZJzZO7oILgcOvmbi-Kyr627wMoOYHmmHQ44t5B2vofhNdrsVNyY0OCcQaHlbW3ezjoSJOAzUNeZAHUFCe5HRth1evzqfL-JNv_kwtxdHBYxu4SzPhkzEOM/s1600/CIMG0129.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikJ3Qwmw5W6weMiY44nDuN-ZJzZO7oILgcOvmbi-Kyr627wMoOYHmmHQ44t5B2vofhNdrsVNyY0OCcQaHlbW3ezjoSJOAzUNeZAHUFCe5HRth1evzqfL-JNv_kwtxdHBYxu4SzPhkzEOM/s320/CIMG0129.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559189718091010866" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3WJAXsbZsOZWI9FKckSpHFQrpI2WqLdHHUnnjBeOhvnG-YqsAifwgMFkNaPFZYWw9DX-rzP8bclVo9mrp_VNGlXopdZGR35fSwNNVtkMlyYwhHeoVc6Mi1E9ZtE7EbEz8upjsC8ajbps/s1600/CIMG0132.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3WJAXsbZsOZWI9FKckSpHFQrpI2WqLdHHUnnjBeOhvnG-YqsAifwgMFkNaPFZYWw9DX-rzP8bclVo9mrp_VNGlXopdZGR35fSwNNVtkMlyYwhHeoVc6Mi1E9ZtE7EbEz8upjsC8ajbps/s320/CIMG0132.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559189723137211330" border="0" /></a>We left there that evening, and came back home, where we slept and arose early the next morning to head to Sunset, TX to have a Christmas celebration with Donald's maternal family.<br />We then left there that evening, and came back home. The next morning (Christmas Day), our little family opened our gifts to each other, took some pictures...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcHW3BhlBrLiy4739hNh_cjDp8N13G2A_0iGUNsyhb7F2M1rnMMUNffYOi9hPgohyIZ5g5HD9pXeobntVkfsvdIN0TcHiJKcBJXD3eVMzAuTZuUCjzFcnyE8LgYjyT23y_uLIyMWFapUA/s1600/CIMG0165.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcHW3BhlBrLiy4739hNh_cjDp8N13G2A_0iGUNsyhb7F2M1rnMMUNffYOi9hPgohyIZ5g5HD9pXeobntVkfsvdIN0TcHiJKcBJXD3eVMzAuTZuUCjzFcnyE8LgYjyT23y_uLIyMWFapUA/s320/CIMG0165.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559189733997250530" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvaPVRV3ZsAXiDEc2zSL62QQzUC-i3eXJ1HcZYGttqlgUsBxm5BbhOnXPVfcAMPkZzMPqs2FBUhbeZS5Svrlf6vxkL3h0gc5KFZlglp4Ov94PGgYJ82wSEO2N-KemroR7nLKD05BGX64/s1600/CIMG0167.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvaPVRV3ZsAXiDEc2zSL62QQzUC-i3eXJ1HcZYGttqlgUsBxm5BbhOnXPVfcAMPkZzMPqs2FBUhbeZS5Svrlf6vxkL3h0gc5KFZlglp4Ov94PGgYJ82wSEO2N-KemroR7nLKD05BGX64/s320/CIMG0167.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559192057841478002" border="0" /></a>...and then headed to my parents house for the remainder of the day. We had a lot of fun, and really enjoyed the day there. I loved giving the aprons I made to my sisters, and I think they loved them too. :-)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqavmloOyh8rrj3PkmeYoqreSIbgKh6kyPM3HN7RYuZNmi65CHq0BdNa3kgBDJlPsfW09wgF3xW33sQqTxmFACXJCMEwbS7Lp3ihev-Xr5N_2iw1DrUy3O2NpV5FljS4brz3Z8X83ZGO8/s1600/CIMG0220.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqavmloOyh8rrj3PkmeYoqreSIbgKh6kyPM3HN7RYuZNmi65CHq0BdNa3kgBDJlPsfW09wgF3xW33sQqTxmFACXJCMEwbS7Lp3ihev-Xr5N_2iw1DrUy3O2NpV5FljS4brz3Z8X83ZGO8/s320/CIMG0220.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559192069634183554" border="0" /></a>Oh, and my parents gave me a bread machine!!! I'm soooo thrilled!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkuS3CbnaX_zdYhftfEmwgovNUnFDlRYW2ybwBtC_4ItTwVlfBaHXhHF60HGHz7e8VXROV5LVgLXqCOwKgf-2pHAmiPjxG1mqMFRVGfib1nR7SUWvb6mCwiEQ9RXsrELuWYSE8Zs88PT0/s1600/CIMG0214.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkuS3CbnaX_zdYhftfEmwgovNUnFDlRYW2ybwBtC_4ItTwVlfBaHXhHF60HGHz7e8VXROV5LVgLXqCOwKgf-2pHAmiPjxG1mqMFRVGfib1nR7SUWvb6mCwiEQ9RXsrELuWYSE8Zs88PT0/s320/CIMG0214.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559192063901732178" border="0" /></a>The next day, we headed out to a town near Terrell, TX to have another Christmas celebration with Donald's paternal family. That finished, we were done with family gatherings for a few days... Whew! I took a few days off and rested, and then I had mine and Donald's family (parents & siblings) over for lunch on New Year's Day. Then, the next day, we went to my Granny and Grandpa's house (my mother's parents) for our last Christmas celebration with that side of the family. So, as you can see, our Christmas was a whirlwind of family gatherings. And, I must confess, I'm not ready for another long car ride any time soon. Danielle was a trooper, though, and I'm proud of her. :-)<br /><br />Then, on Monday (Jan. 3rd), it was mine and Donald's 2nd wedding anniversary!! We celebrated the day by going to a sushi restaurant for lunch (yum!!), taking a nap with the baby, playing board games, watching a movie, and just being together. We decided this year not to take a trip anywhere, as both on our 1st anniversary trip and our honeymoon (both to the same place), one or both of us was sick with the stomach virus, and we decided we needed to break the trend and stay home (and hopefully not get sick!). Thankfully, we were both in excellent health for our anniversary, and enjoyed our day to the fullest. :-)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6eo24p82_bkDfbtHFFvboNHXa6l1Mro3b_RyDqTt1JaZrC_pN3aZNfw2LT4M5kxk-QVwVg6WVWx1QofiI6yZl1wvtoHM6aM3_wc-4h1_bBzZ7WSS0du3fYpoFVF6p_TPYss7GvlPXOdg/s1600/CIMG5654.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6eo24p82_bkDfbtHFFvboNHXa6l1Mro3b_RyDqTt1JaZrC_pN3aZNfw2LT4M5kxk-QVwVg6WVWx1QofiI6yZl1wvtoHM6aM3_wc-4h1_bBzZ7WSS0du3fYpoFVF6p_TPYss7GvlPXOdg/s320/CIMG5654.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559192073944661826" border="0" /></a>(For more pictures from our anniversary, go to this link: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=606803&id=596110155&l=9079c9d74f.)<br /><br />Danielle turning 6 months old on December 30th was our other big event of the last few weeks. Using some coupons I had, I took her out to a studio to have a 6 month portrait taken. I can't wait to see them! However, I did decide that she needed some snapshots taken at home too... So here are a few of them. Isn't she a darling?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqihRxQLloli5SAli_jgpynqScJIwifXB9UiCmmHPXOCWzCI9TaS96v-t4d7vcnd-KAtxStbumiLqGq5CTkRoIMfVZaa7XmO0o95_ZbUsbLXPxa-B73l6kZgL7pgnaTT2X80uLgzi3dQw/s1600/CIMG0240.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqihRxQLloli5SAli_jgpynqScJIwifXB9UiCmmHPXOCWzCI9TaS96v-t4d7vcnd-KAtxStbumiLqGq5CTkRoIMfVZaa7XmO0o95_ZbUsbLXPxa-B73l6kZgL7pgnaTT2X80uLgzi3dQw/s320/CIMG0240.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559194018332619906" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTH8g0y2EsUUznrCmlV4oT6nVWH1Qo4IXpyBtFJG03eL0Im4rNJ2Y2PqdPWlO2eoiORgshmKV1uv8mt4Sk6rBgHQrKM8y4PlfrzwYUzI2uQBsxxUlvxctANMmIzbeUj1HQRDSZgLBFvfc/s1600/CIMG0239.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTH8g0y2EsUUznrCmlV4oT6nVWH1Qo4IXpyBtFJG03eL0Im4rNJ2Y2PqdPWlO2eoiORgshmKV1uv8mt4Sk6rBgHQrKM8y4PlfrzwYUzI2uQBsxxUlvxctANMmIzbeUj1HQRDSZgLBFvfc/s320/CIMG0239.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559192080621558034" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKkcLvEAbYCb876REF1IALhKWvEWp0zoiecDo99jw9OAP1JgyLjPSNrkODE24pgr_aGHmc-W-ljFYRXXN9-fBwkgX_kUEAdiQw_zRstjxtGYpai68IdBl0DoL0Ia5TJFjLBJMwfgykQeQ/s1600/CIMG0249.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKkcLvEAbYCb876REF1IALhKWvEWp0zoiecDo99jw9OAP1JgyLjPSNrkODE24pgr_aGHmc-W-ljFYRXXN9-fBwkgX_kUEAdiQw_zRstjxtGYpai68IdBl0DoL0Ia5TJFjLBJMwfgykQeQ/s320/CIMG0249.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559194021963616674" border="0" /></a>(For more recent pictures of Danielle, go to this link:<br /><div>http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=606758&id=596110155&l=533ddecafe.)<br /><br />I have spent the last few days trying to rest and recover from those very hectic two weeks, and today am finally feeling energetic again. I have several new projects in mind for the coming weeks and months (some of which include finishing a quilt and organizing my home from top to bottom), but will write more on those in the days to come, as this is already a lengthy post, and I have a baby who needs my attention right now. :-P<br /><br />So, I hope all of you had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and will write more later!<br /><br />Blessings,<br />Melody<br /></div>MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-5558198669442683122010-12-17T15:38:00.005-06:002011-01-13T22:17:33.867-06:00News for this week...Just a quick update for y'all--which will probably be the last one until after Christmas...<br /><br />On Wednesday, I officially finished all of my Christmas sewing, and have all the gifts bought, Christmas cards send out, house decorated, etc. This means that for the first time ever, I have practically two whole weeks to just enjoy myself and enjoy this time of year without all the hustle and bustle of last minute shopping (which I don't shopping like at all--unless I'm shopping for the baby, and then watch out!), and running hither and yon for different things.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgclnjk8RbuwKwrnflyBNx9pcW-2IQ3O9xrSRa6iEH1FIR3EuLdhCpF6MZRKNxNTzDwpJn3GnQR8NzP0vmM3c2aoWi_NIdDRmEbWv4_3cUW2q0lv5e2scTKLe6eC9ajR1nvdBAdc45Qi78/s1600/CIMG9990.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/AVvXsEgclnjk8RbuwKwrnflyBNx9pcW-2IQ3O9xrSRa6iEH1FIR3EuLdhCpF6MZRKNxNTzDwpJn3GnQR8NzP0vmM3c2aoWi_NIdDRmEbWv4_3cUW2q0lv5e2scTKLe6eC9ajR1nvdBAdc45Qi78/s320/CIMG9990.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551775675965001122" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9uAcNY6h6Gsbk71ItRkvgfPWGhlcPWrImgRfQvTLcg0hbGU11GjP5_WUSm2yS36mUbpm59QoR9mLWUqCTTaXzfe940kPZB_SFraBJD_ui3oXrTyyvLdoRvsN8RJ7iiRalKBWfID4qxI0/s1600/CIMG9985.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/AVvXsEj9uAcNY6h6Gsbk71ItRkvgfPWGhlcPWrImgRfQvTLcg0hbGU11GjP5_WUSm2yS36mUbpm59QoR9mLWUqCTTaXzfe940kPZB_SFraBJD_ui3oXrTyyvLdoRvsN8RJ7iiRalKBWfID4qxI0/s320/CIMG9985.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551775674099116834" border="0" /></a>Yesterday, I started cutting out a dress for Danielle. This will be the first dress that I have made for her. (I'll post a picture of the completed dress once it's finished.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5I-BXIDmcDArgeY9WcAfzbYSSYbhU_3yCBqoXX0GTujo1-hoGfoRZ-UZmRXVZW4bHdwoILKpFhOsgN6lD1i3-ryj1DoOaAOj63PCcF4oys_EPLDK6GscZH2zKpP_UW1xWsUfNJ4bimKs/s1600/CIMG0038.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5I-BXIDmcDArgeY9WcAfzbYSSYbhU_3yCBqoXX0GTujo1-hoGfoRZ-UZmRXVZW4bHdwoILKpFhOsgN6lD1i3-ryj1DoOaAOj63PCcF4oys_EPLDK6GscZH2zKpP_UW1xWsUfNJ4bimKs/s320/CIMG0038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551773793324357346" border="0" /></a><br />She had fun playing with scraps of fabric on the floor while I sewed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixhzbntyRoGXBmGghJnId6lefBk4x5fTnhiaLIhRz_Or57zbz4_UDZ5d0SG0wdd7dd6Rzv6xNPp82PMBnTQNflshxGva0S6aWZuN2hTvSzQGMGi1NZ9ZjV_bs5hZXzg_MIBqzn32CHcME/s1600/CIMG0045.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixhzbntyRoGXBmGghJnId6lefBk4x5fTnhiaLIhRz_Or57zbz4_UDZ5d0SG0wdd7dd6Rzv6xNPp82PMBnTQNflshxGva0S6aWZuN2hTvSzQGMGi1NZ9ZjV_bs5hZXzg_MIBqzn32CHcME/s320/CIMG0045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551773794806460962" border="0" /></a>I managed to get quite a bit of it sewn yesterday evening, and tried it on Danielle to make sure it was going to fit. I think she liked it--that, or she's a typical girl who loves trying on new clothes. :-P<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_yVWToo7nXBOmWO9mxSNkQhntxlL42iaKWzOESwJJAcPj5t5nJXmBOpKaY-NOqBuDtd00KXlJT_t-5RfSTpYq4hmaVUUvksnNvYHA5LI8OpHL6wcOi5Jm7E97tItVmDPwTcWPlquZgc/s1600/CIMG0047.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/AVvXsEgL_yVWToo7nXBOmWO9mxSNkQhntxlL42iaKWzOESwJJAcPj5t5nJXmBOpKaY-NOqBuDtd00KXlJT_t-5RfSTpYq4hmaVUUvksnNvYHA5LI8OpHL6wcOi5Jm7E97tItVmDPwTcWPlquZgc/s320/CIMG0047.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551773802037996946" border="0" /></a><br />Today, I did my morning chores around the house (dishes, vacuuming, laundry, etc.) sewed some more on Danielle's dress, and then my friend Rebecca came over with her daughter, Arielle. Our two babies had a fun time playing together. Although, at first, Danielle (who doesn't often have another baby to play with) didn't know what to think about Arielle, and just stared at her. But after a while, they both got to talking (as most girls do!), and seemed to make up their minds to be friends. It was rather cute. :-)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6lhig4c4fyC2yxe5cWbN07WPROZUVwAhhDSdU8FC1r2Dfp2vS6LOEcVXIs8YM-HGW8fQP_EZWdbaYR8v6wZW5X7qaiqcVdepCx1Dez_e7wp3OBOzxXtGJI5rT3_YapWSS32LHGDD4Ck/s1600/CIMG0053.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6lhig4c4fyC2yxe5cWbN07WPROZUVwAhhDSdU8FC1r2Dfp2vS6LOEcVXIs8YM-HGW8fQP_EZWdbaYR8v6wZW5X7qaiqcVdepCx1Dez_e7wp3OBOzxXtGJI5rT3_YapWSS32LHGDD4Ck/s320/CIMG0053.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551773805881066162" border="0" /></a>This evening I will go to my siblings' piano recital, and tomorrow begins Christmas for us (yippee!). We start with spending the day with Donald's parents and sister tomorrow, then Christmas #2 will be next Thursday with my Dad's family, with Christmas #3 on Friday with Donald's maternal family, #4 on Saturday (Christmas Day) with my family and Mom's family, and #5 on Sunday with Donald's paternal side of the family--with each one being in a different location. And yes, I know that's a lot of traveling, but at least we get to see everyone! I'm just hoping Danielle will survive all the long car rides--and be happy about it too. We shall see.<br /><br />Anyway... If you don't hear from me before then, Merry Christmas, y'all!<br /><br />Blessings,<br />MelodyMelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-63157216222012314752010-12-07T09:25:00.005-06:002011-01-13T22:18:28.791-06:00Of Christmas Trees, Concerts, and Chocolate...<span><span>There is a song that goes as follows:<br />"Haul out the holly;<br />Put up the tree before my spirit falls again.<br />Fill up the stocking,<br />I may be rushing things,<br />but deck the halls again now.<br />For we need a little Christmas<br />Right this very minute,<br />Candles in the window,<br />Carols at the spinet.<br />Yes, we need a little Christmas now."<br /><br />Well, folks, I must confess that as soon as Thanksgiving is over every ye</span></span><span><span>ar, this is the way I feel--especially now that I have my own home and tree to decorate. So, Thanksgi</span></span><span><span>vin</span></span><span><span>g weekend, my darling hubby graciously brought all the Christmas things out of the attic for me, and I spent the following day (Monday) decorating our humble abode. Danielle watched in wide-eyed </span></span><span><span>wonder as I plugged in the lights on the tree. She wasn't quite sure what th</span></span><span><span>is all was about, but I'm sure she loved how shiny and sparkly everything was.<br /><br />Danielle is very mobile now, and rolls ALL over the place. The day after I put up our tree, I left the room (with her on the floor) for just a moment. I no sooner left the room, </span></span><span><span>the</span></span><span><span>n I heard her cooing and laughing to herself. Now, normally I love her cooing and laughing</span></span><span><span>....but something about this time told me that she had gotten into something (other mothers probably understand this), so I rushed back into the living room to find that she had rolled underneath the Ch</span></span><span><span>ristmas tree, and was engaged in wadding up my tree skirt and kicking at the branches above her.</span></span><span><span> However, it was all so cute, that I made a photoshoot of it. Here are some of the pictures.<br /><br /><span><span><span><span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZa43jSs6WP7CYWvQaeSuZvHnw4woCmUgE2AETxdUfnRbxcs99MseMLPFn51MDaQFQlID2FEQYLxZosbc3-er0r7Z1RCp40favbONuym7sMTuvgj9yH1E2Xxvv0TD6XeLsuGaW9FMNL5k/s1600/CIMG9900.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/AVvXsEgZa43jSs6WP7CYWvQaeSuZvHnw4woCmUgE2AETxdUfnRbxcs99MseMLPFn51MDaQFQlID2FEQYLxZosbc3-er0r7Z1RCp40favbONuym7sMTuvgj9yH1E2Xxvv0TD6XeLsuGaW9FMNL5k/s320/CIMG9900.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547963821080035874" border="0" /><span><span><span><span></span></span></span></span></a><span><span><span><span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlmj8CJBKBuaRHpy-d6U3pgRl4i0a2LOXx1ktISI767pOqR9IAGw_4NZyQBuMsVI9mvlr3r9V3aMzsCTsHJIy8ca3lGvBjO2XJmzdDvBt_EZChgWnpP4DfFYiMG-n90xO938tZ1-zFU4/s1600/CIMG9901.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/AVvXsEgXlmj8CJBKBuaRHpy-d6U3pgRl4i0a2LOXx1ktISI767pOqR9IAGw_4NZyQBuMsVI9mvlr3r9V3aMzsCTsHJIy8ca3lGvBjO2XJmzdDvBt_EZChgWnpP4DfFYiMG-n90xO938tZ1-zFU4/s320/CIMG9901.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547963827473876434" border="0" /><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEt-_fig0pi8DfyNthmkzU9khmPZ31ROwt2TRQuAKcnIddG4nPZ0dvUsqBCOosxG7OY9dUFliOvE5b3-fUJhinUmx3nIZSUp2rHL4QTNLwKOENDyDLkeVAAr2yUBsaTTKdGqebTc4kvw/s1600/CIMG9906.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/AVvXsEgUEt-_fig0pi8DfyNthmkzU9khmPZ31ROwt2TRQuAKcnIddG4nPZ0dvUsqBCOosxG7OY9dUFliOvE5b3-fUJhinUmx3nIZSUp2rHL4QTNLwKOENDyDLkeVAAr2yUBsaTTKdGqebTc4kvw/s320/CIMG9906.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547963835013583842" border="0" /><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOjPfox3LXB_MgKNz5fM61HChcZpLwNfuCr_G7fUpIu8rYLW-dp0P5ZLRXI9pUke2zx0UZUsMAdbX4jPp4xyA0CXSVwY05DyxdqTCf_qZLoSEU6ssxJPFKXW3rvG6uIGV33JvsB6dEcE/s1600/CIMG9908.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/AVvXsEhpOjPfox3LXB_MgKNz5fM61HChcZpLwNfuCr_G7fUpIu8rYLW-dp0P5ZLRXI9pUke2zx0UZUsMAdbX4jPp4xyA0CXSVwY05DyxdqTCf_qZLoSEU6ssxJPFKXW3rvG6uIGV33JvsB6dEcE/s320/CIMG9908.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547963848306471970" border="0" /><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkA1ihce5Gg8hvHjDNGxqI2EFP2r402X7HvYpqJ2wsrNSKW-uL1USyhhg9YcJMIEmU-ZVy9BBONreXbsBFxA6OKBImSWThb119I4v78_cIF_zUTVJ0vN4ik2AhAOlGXYSJzZ90uNS4UI/s1600/CIMG9912.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/AVvXsEgbkA1ihce5Gg8hvHjDNGxqI2EFP2r402X7HvYpqJ2wsrNSKW-uL1USyhhg9YcJMIEmU-ZVy9BBONreXbsBFxA6OKBImSWThb119I4v78_cIF_zUTVJ0vN4ik2AhAOlGXYSJzZ90uNS4UI/s320/CIMG9912.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547963855806376002" border="0" /></a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />Last Friday evening, the Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary Choir and the Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra performed Handel's Messiah. My wonderful husband kindly took me and our adorable baby to hear them. It was simply WONDERFUL. Every time I hear that majestic music, my heart soars as I think of the King of kings, Lord of lords, the Lord of hosts, the Messiah, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace Who came down at Christmas, took upon Himself "a form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."<br /><br />I believe every Christmas season should start out with hearing The Messiah. It helps put Christmas into the right perspective. After all, as the Grinch learned, "Christmas...doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!"<br /><br />Now I have told you about the Christmas Tree and the Concert, so perhaps you are wondering about the chocolate...<br /><br />Well, I just wanted to mention that I have such a wonderful, understanding, loving husband who makes sure I am well supplied with chocolate when I need it. Why, he even (at my request) will actually go into the kitchen and cook Chocolate Oatmeal Drops for me when I'm craving them (even if it means getting ridiculed by his co-worker, who says cooking is women's work). This he did for this past weekend, and then also brought home some chocolate from the store for me. It's just a little thing, I know, but it means a lot to know he was thinking of me (especially when he was going to buy Drano for a nasty plumbing problem [our kitchen sink kept backing up, and filling up the bathtub...]), and it helps to make the Season bright.<br /><br />Anyway...there is a little blog entry to let y'all know what I've been up to lately. With my pro-longed silence on my blog, I didn't want y'all to think I'd fallen off the face of the earth, so to speak. But with trying to get all my Christmas sewing (I'm sewing presents for all my siblings) and shopping done, I haven't had an abundance of time to sit and write, if you know what I mean.<br /><br />Now to get back to that sewing...<br /><br />Blessings,<br />Melody</span></span><span><span><br /></span></span>MelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4124202578053402416.post-83076051333826898372010-11-05T11:32:00.004-05:002011-01-13T22:18:59.122-06:00PerspectiveLife can be so busy sometimes, and it's so easy to miss the little moments that really count for eternity. Life has definitely been that way for me these last few weeks.<br /><br />During the middle of October, two of my dear friends came to stay with me for a week. And while this presented a little more busyness than usual, it also gave me some much needed, soul-refreshing conversation with fellow sisters in Christ.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjes9hELWokozXeb5cM7mvRME-b_dCFlitpSs7yO6t5bu3XMQH_2lqM1nu9bAO6Z1wDwdKimNyc75xwXwOT6d2TuALoVYgPnGMUu3VyMIdSMCnCnA9zkMEMzgQbWSbSSTH0k45E4bmjrtE/s1600/CIMG9663.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjes9hELWokozXeb5cM7mvRME-b_dCFlitpSs7yO6t5bu3XMQH_2lqM1nu9bAO6Z1wDwdKimNyc75xwXwOT6d2TuALoVYgPnGMUu3VyMIdSMCnCnA9zkMEMzgQbWSbSSTH0k45E4bmjrtE/s320/CIMG9663.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536111764712788514" border="0" /></a>In talking with Chloe and Joy, I was again reminded that there is more to the world than what revolves around the doings in my household. Souls are dying out there. Babies everywhere, every day are being murdered by the thousands as parents choose to sacrifice their children to the gods of Selfishness and Convenience. I look at my baby and marvel that anyone could be so heartless.<br /><br />Then, on top of friends visiting, there was traveling to be done (first to my husband's family reunion, and then later to see some of my family), the daily/weekly chores of laundry, cleaning, cooking, grocery shopping, diaper changing, baby feedings, etc. It seems that there is never enough time to get it all done.<br /><br />But yesterday morning, it hit me. I was so tired, and was holding my precious little baby who was wanting to be held, while thinking of all the things I needed to do: the bathrooms needed cleaning, there was grocery shopping to do, dishes to wash, laundry to fold, and the list went on. And here I was sitting here holding a baby who was only happy at that time if she was cuddling with me. I glanced down at her, and my heart melted. Her little face was tilted upward looking at me, while her hands clutched my shirt. Her eyes were filled with that baby-like trust, and she looked so happy and content to be sitting there in my lap.<br /><br />It occurred to me, "You know, Melody, in the end, it won't have mattered if you always had a spotlessly clean house. But it will matter if you took out time to bestow on others--especially your own children." I then settled back and enjoyed an hour of cuddling with my precious little baby, and could not stop thanking God for her every time I looked at her.<br /><br />And really, when Danielle grows up, I do not want her to remember her mother as one who was always so busy trying to keep the house "just so," that she never had time for her children. I want her to remember me as someone who loved her children, loved spending time with them, and who always had time to cuddle if they needed it. That is what will last--that is what will count for eternity. It's all about perspective. :-)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR7YVNs7Jgix6NfupfnxYPnm8iZ1UvOrFrnKg81rghxhNlIKNzircpU3X3-aqDcf3-gTl9qoDXvCmIHFc-jjohyphenhyphen5FwwAaWtnqxvMj-icumvvysuf4sX6BNdAIJ2nM3Gik7O9RpfEcKoJI/s1600/CIMG9833.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/AVvXsEjR7YVNs7Jgix6NfupfnxYPnm8iZ1UvOrFrnKg81rghxhNlIKNzircpU3X3-aqDcf3-gTl9qoDXvCmIHFc-jjohyphenhyphen5FwwAaWtnqxvMj-icumvvysuf4sX6BNdAIJ2nM3Gik7O9RpfEcKoJI/s320/CIMG9833.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536111761246876578" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgNNyb_sv1ZMMQV9AxStG9EWfyga58OD2C2KeaK-m-Nak37MR6BYpA9XLipZ_rTOsSJtWJZzCw0RKKteOQDMDUPZuwSZPlj7_HwgwjbbZmxKZirlIcN_aBnEvqu4y9-kArG7vHHBmF54/s1600/CIMG9750.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgNNyb_sv1ZMMQV9AxStG9EWfyga58OD2C2KeaK-m-Nak37MR6BYpA9XLipZ_rTOsSJtWJZzCw0RKKteOQDMDUPZuwSZPlj7_HwgwjbbZmxKZirlIcN_aBnEvqu4y9-kArG7vHHBmF54/s320/CIMG9750.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536111752816972066" border="0" /></a>Blessings,<br />MelodyMelodyJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484837304443516091noreply@blogger.com1