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Archive for the ‘FAMILY’ Category

After twenty-two years of marriage, let me tell you what I think love is …

Love is honoring … that means that you do what is best for the other person.  It means that you make the other person look and sound good to others. Putting your significant other down puts your relationship down further … don’t do it!

Love is work. When you met you may have ‘fallen’ effortlessly in love with your sweetie … how … precious. Do not expect that staying in love will be so effortlessly. Staying ‘in love’ will take daily effort, and some days might take hourly effort. Remember old Mr. Miyagi in the Karate Kid movie would say wax on wax off … that is the kind of work it takes to keep the love machine rolling.

Love is sacrificial … if you thought work was gonna be tough, try sacrifice. This means that you give, before, not in response to, receiving. Hum, that means you do what is best for the other person, even if it means you have to stretch, or bend. or even watch the football movie, Rudy, for the millionth time, just because it is his favorite movie, and you would rather watch P. S. I Love You (that does go both ways though, just remember, sacrifice is not sacrifice if we do it SO THAT our significant other will do back for us).

Love is respect … mutual respect. It is looking at your other half as a whole. It is seeing their value through the eyes of one who created them. It is seeing them as valuable because their Creator is made them with purpose, as He did you.

Love is trust. A relationship is not a loving one if there is not trust of the other person. When one lays their life in the hands of another, intimacy is only present if trust is as well.

Love is forgiveness, because if you are in love with a human, you will need to learn to forgiven. There will be times when Mr. or Mrs. (or Ms.) right does something wrong … there will be times when you (and I) are the ones who are doing the wrong … if love is to survive, forgiveness must thrive.

Love is commitment … that means you stay together, for the long haul. There are no escape clauses, there are no backup plans. If it is love, it is committed, or it is not love.

“Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay.
Your people will be my people and your God my God.
Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried.
Ruth 1:16-17

And that is what I think love is.

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I often find that Christian theologians can be so … boring.

It is not their subject matter so much as their language, their … wordiness, their dissection of portions of scripture in a manner that both confuses my brain, and makes me want to take a nap … a long nap.

I am no theologian, and yet, as a believer in the triune god … father, son and holy spirit. I believe in the virgin birth, and the resurrection. There is much that I would call gray matter, but there is also much that is definitive … that is, black and white. And, if I were asked, what do you believe to be the most important theological principle to stand on, my response would be quick and confident, and would mirror the response of theologian Karl Barth (believed to be the most important theologian since Thomas Aquinas), “Jesus love me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so”.

A childhood Sunday School song, with the most valuable message. Something written and presented so simply that even children (the least of these) could share in and understand. Something so deep and so packed with the gospel message that theologians have yet to unpack all that it presents to us.

Written over one hundred and fifty years ago, by Anna B. Warner (verse 1) and David R. McGuire (verses 2-3), and William B. Bradbury is credited for it’s musical score and refrain.

It is the first song I remember learning, as a child, and the first that I taught our three children. I remember clearly how, as each child had mastered the first verse, I would telephone my God-loving grandmother, to allow her to hear them sing the song that she had shared with me. Our youngest sang for her just weeks before she was face to face with the center of this songs words. My intent in teaching our children this song, was (and is) that if it can be woven into the framework of their being, they might always know throughout their lives that:
-they are loved
-the Bible confirms it
-they need Jesus
-He will be their strength when they have none
-they are loved by the one willing to sacrifice all for them
-they are loved by the one who will not stop loving them

If my children can grow up knowing that Jesus loves them, then I can leave this life in the confidence that they have a most firm (and not at all boring) foundation.

  1. Jesus loves me! This I know,
    For the Bible tells me so;
    Little ones to Him belong;
    They are weak, but He is strong:
  2. Refrain:Yes, Jesus loves me!
    • Yes, Jesus loves me!
      Yes, Jesus loves me!
      The Bible tells me so.
  3. Jesus loves me! This I know,
    As He loved so long ago,
    Taking children on His knee,
    Saying, “Let them come to Me.”
  4. Jesus loves me still today,
    Walking with me on my way,
    Wanting as a friend to give
    Light and love to all who live.
  5. Jesus loves me! He who died
    Heaven’s gate to open wide;
    He will wash away my sin,
    Let His little child come in.
  6. Jesus loves me! He will stay
    Close beside me all the way;
    Thou hast bled and died for me,
    I will henceforth live for Thee.

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I watched the Superbowl last Sunday, just like every year since I got married to my football loving hubby.

Hum, I need to make a admission … I didn’t watch ALL of the Superbowl, I didn’t even watch most of the Superbowl … I did watch the half time show though, and I did watch all of that.

I have to say that I am usually extremely disappointed with the half time shows at the Superbowl. The sound is usually of a quality equivalent to communication at a fast food drive through. The entertainers are usually older than myself (and if you ask my kids I’m archaic!), to the point that some might say they are over ripened. shudder.

I quite enjoyed the half time show at the Superbowl this year. Maybe it is because the network seemed to get the sound quality improved, or maybe it was because I AM old, and I was a teen when Madonna was rising to the top. The costume changes and dance choreography were fantastic. I was able to lay my head on my pillow Sunday night, feeling quite encouraged that, yes Virginia, there can be a good Superbowl halftime show!

Which brings me to my “just sayin’ ” point.

This morning I was awakened to internet news sites and radio broadcasters announcing with vigor similar to a new father announcing the birth of his baby, or a nation’s leader declaring the start of a world war, that “The bird was flipped at the Superbowl halftime show.”

To which I replied, “Really? Really?”

Had media NOT made it a front page story, no one would have cared (if, indeed, they had noticed at all, and I had not noticed it when I was watching it). Then there is the apology by NBC:

“Our system was late to obscure the inappropriate gesture and we apologize to our viewers.”

Having watched the Superbowl for a number of years in a row now, I would think that NBC would, by now, have a system that is prepared to obscure inappropriate gestures and statements. It is not like these inappropriate expressions are unexpected (remember Janet Jackson? And now M. I. A.). After all, as I read one commentary today, the entertainers who were hired to perform were ones whose careers are known for shocking acts and actions … what do we, what do the networks, think might happen?

And that is my “just sayin’ ” comment for today!

 

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Filial cannibalism is the act of eating ones own offspring. Creatures from birds to fish to spiders (they should eat more of their young) all practice this horrendous act.

It is disgusting! It is unbelievable! It is … pondered once in a while when you have children.

Now, obviously I am joking, but lets face it, there are days when we wonder (momentarily) why we asked for that back rub many years ago. There are days when we, as parents, feel pushed to the edge of the cliff, and the jump starts looking mighty appealing!

But then we are, ever so quickly, reminded of what our heart really feels about these offspring of ours. We would do anything for them, we would even die to save their lives.

We parents live in such a place of contradictions. We love them, we want to eat them.

Whenever one of our kids is pushing our buttons (or maybe all of them … at once!), our eldest, in her most mocking of mocking tones, likes to remind us the “sex has consequences.” Her point being that if we had not had sex, they would not be here here to drive us nuts. What her real point is, though, is that them driving us nuts is our own fault. Sigh, sometimes I regret encouraging our kids to think critically!

The thing is we do love our kids. We did want them and we forgive them faster than we could ever forgive any other. They are ours, a part of us, and no matter how often we hear the words, “some creatures eat their young” in our heads, we would die for them in an instant. And this IS the miracle of love.

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I saw the quote to the left the other day, and pondered it’s words and message.

I have read all of the “Twilight” series (minus the last … one day I will get it read too) and really enjoyed the story it told. I also think that Stephanie Mayer is a brilliant and captivating story writer. But, would I call the Twilight books a love story? No.

And then I re-watched a video clip from the Disney-Pixar hit, “Up” …

It was in the short second half of the eight minute clip that starts the movie, that a love story is told in a most sensitive, genuine and real way. It is in the story telling of the life story of Carl and Ellie that a love story is constructed.

It is the story of a couple who were not perfect, who were not popular, who were not wealthy, who were not successful in all that they pursued, who did not achieve all that they had set out and dreamed of doing.

But, it was also the story of a couple who worked together, who dreamed together, who experienced joys and sorrows together, who were committed to each other … together. And it is that, their mutual commitment and doing together that enabled them to live the love story.

That is my idea of a love story. And I don’t believe that you need to be animated to live it!

Check it out …

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Impressions come in many forms. There are the impressions we make on others, either by how we look, or act, or how we make them feel. There are also impressions, like the ones that imprint a physical lasting mark, like a tattoo or a scar.

I have an impression, a scar, on my left ring finger. It is an indelible impression, one that will never go away, one that is permanent.

Over a year ago I noticed a frustratingly itchy rash on my ring finger, the ring finger where I wore my wedding ring. I figured the best was to alleviate the non-stop irritation was to remove my wedding ring.

Sure enough, it worked! Not over night, but eventually (and with the use of a good healing cream), the rash and it’s nasty irritation were gone.

But, I have yet to return to wearing my wedding band. I had gotten out of the habit of wearing it, and that is really saying something, because, other than the few times I was in a hospital, I had never removed my wedding ring (night or day) since my husband placed it on my finger, over twenty-two years ago.

Now, over a year after removing it, there is an impression of that ring still visible on my finger.

It has faded a bit, but only slightly. I have been altered by the symbol of the vow I made all those years ago. It is a permanent scar, forever there to remind me of that vow I made with my words.

That is what the impression of a scar does, it reminds us. It can remind us of when we were a child and suffered a deep wound. A scar reminds us of the surgery that may have saved our life. A scar reminds us of pain.

But a scar, like the one on my ring finger, can also remind us of the hope of a new life with someone, of dreams fulfilled, and ones yet to happen. It can remind us of overcoming pain, of beating struggles, of memories made, and secrets shared and children shared, and a sense of oneness with another that can only be shared by two who bear the same scars.

One of these days I will pull that gold band back out (or maybe hubby will) and place it back on my finger. Until then, there is a permanent scar, an indelible impression that reminds me every day of the past, and the present, and the future to come.

“Children show scars like medals.

Lovers use them as secrets to reveal.

A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.”

Leonard Cohen

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The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

I received this on New Years Day, and was awed.

I was awed that, since March, when I started posting, there have been over 16,000 views!

I was awed that my posts have been read all over the world!

I was awed that so many people who I know (and many who I do not) have read my words.

As you may already know, I am a nominee for the blogger with the worst grammar ever (and for Queen of the run on sentence). But it was a dream of mine to ‘get published’ and this has been my venue to accomplish that dream. To think that people have actually ready what I wrote is icing on the cake (I was convinced it would only my mother who would read my words … and she is a regular viewer … thanks mom).

It has been wonderful for me to have something that is mine (narcissism creeping out of my pores). This is something I do for myself (and hubby is thrilled that I have chosen writing and not shopping … much better on the finances 😉 ), and I feel that by doing it, I can do all the other things in my life better (I would equate it to the airline instruction to “put your own oxygen mask on before helping others with theirs”).

As I have sat at my computer each day writing away, I have felt as though I was having a therapy session. I have dealt with frustrations and shared my heart in a way that could not have been done better with a counselor, bar tender or hairdresser (sadly though I do not have great hair to show for it).

I just wanted to take the time, right now, to say thanks for visiting my blog. Make sure you click on the “complete report” if you would like to see who you have been reading with.

Blessings,

Carole

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 16,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 6 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

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It is Christmas Break and I am taking this week as a break from blogging (my family is doubtful that I can do it).

So, if you are looking for something to read from me this week, I would suggest one of my favorite blog posts:

Do You Love Me?

See you in the New Year!

Carole

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For those whose birthdays are near December 25th a common experience is shared. That of receiving one gift with a ‘Merry Christmas / Happy Birthday’ message. That has been the experience of my hubby. So, for today, I will digress from my December of Christmas themed posts just for him.

Today hubby will awaken to his fortieth birthday (with a significant number of years of experience … just sayin’).

I will spend the day trekking across the country from east to west with our son. Hubby will, no doubt, be spoiled by his two daughters (aka they will suggest that they take him to THEIR favorite restaurant, and he will pay for the meals), and I am sure our beast will be his constant shadow from morning to night (of course, the gift he wants most from her is that she drop dead or run away). It really sounds like a sequel to “It’s a Wonderful Life!”

You, hubby, are a person who is always doing something for others. You empty your cup daily with little hope of it ever being re-filled. You give and give and give, with little thanks for all that you do.

To our kids you are the one they can count on. When they have a need, you have a solution. They have grown up knowing that they are deeply loved by their dad.

To me, you are my best friend (and best enemy … it depends on the day … I’ll never get a job with Hallmark!). You are the one who I want to tell my best and worst experiences to. It is you who I know will always be there (no matter what I might do to get you off my trail 😉 ). It is with you that I have shared the majority of my life with, and it is with me that you will continue to share the rest of yours with (that is true, right?).

To our beast … well, you haven’t evicted her (yet).

So, to my hubby, on his significantly special day I hope for you:

A good nights rest.

A good morning coffee time.

A day of receiving love.

A day of positive words from others.

A day of being thankful for the day.

A day of no barking by the beast.

A day of no crises.

A day of feeling valued in all that you do.

See you in the early morning hours.

Your bride.

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Being on the East Coast allows me the opportunity to see family I rarely get to see, and I’ve had this privilege twice this year.

This past weekend I got to see my youngest nephew. He is five years old (that is a handful of fingers for those of you who have not had the honor of receiving a reply from a five year old, to the question “how old are you?”). He is cute (as a button … what on earth does that mean?), never sits still ( 🙂 love that part), and totally brilliant (and, if you were to ask his grandparents … do NOT do that … a very long monologue will be in your future … and you are not the one talking).

My favorite part of spending time with him was when he said ‘yellow’ … pronounced ‘Lellow’. Could there be anything more preciously perfect than a child who mispronounces words? I love it! How is it that pronouncing a word wrongly could create such delight in my soul?

Everything is exciting for this little guy (and, by the way, I would NEVER refer to him as a ‘little’ guy to his face … he thinks he is an adult). And he even has future plans … romantically. Apparently he has a girlfriend in daycare who he is planning to marry, and if that doesn’t work out, there are other possibilities. Gotta love a guy with options!

While he was at my parents he eyed a snowman decoration (I’ll Be Home for a White Christmas) that he was more familiar with than me. It was a simple, tacky cute ( 😉 ) beaded snowman. And when Little Mister picked him up, and pushed a button, the snowman lit up, in colors that faded from one to another like the colors of a rainbow.

Then, the real magic began.

Little Mister stood there, delighting in the color changes, and the shining of the beads, for the longest time. It was a moment of joy, amazement and wonder. He was captivated by the simple beauty that he created by pushing the right button. So simple, so beautiful … not the snowman, but the reaction of wonder that it caused. He was still.

What captivates me? What makes me stare in amazement? What causes me to wonder … to really wonder to the point of stopping all that I do to be amazed?

This is the season of wonder. This is the season of amazement and captivation. This is the season of miracles and a gift giving so grand that the celebrations have lasted for a couple of thousand years.

But, do we stop long enough to be captivated in wonder? Can we, like that delightful nephew of mine, be still long enough to see the beauty of the light that came down at Christmas time? That is the challenge.

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