tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23619215603909129112024-02-08T09:04:24.165-08:00Another Day in the LifeThe mundane everyday gives up its secrecy - Steven RoachMaricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-6808309093615770072012-06-26T12:47:00.002-07:002012-06-26T12:47:24.808-07:00The Gospel According to Chubby - Jeremy Rochford (review)Obesity. It has become an epidemic in our nation. Schools are altering their menus to help children avoid it. Law makers are trying to pass legislation to deter it. Fad diets are created every day to help control it. Its effects are discussed on television and radio, in homes and schools and workplaces. But nobody's talking about the underlying <i>cause</i> behind it. Until now...<br />
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In <u>The Gospel According to Chubby</u>, Jeremy Rochford shares his amazing story of losing over 200 pounds without surgery, pills, shots, or anything besides determination-- and Jesus. Unlike so many other publications out there, Jeremy doesn't just focus on his success. He doesn't scurry over the pivotal point with a couple of sentences and then blow smoke about a "sure fire way you can have success too!" (Can you hear the used-car-salesman voice in that? I hope so!).<br />
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Rochford starts at the beginning. In kindergarten, a school physical spells out what is already obvious: Jeremy is considerably overweight. His issue wasn't merely a slow metabolism or bum thyroid; he had an addiction. Jeremy explains throughout the book how snack cakes were his heroin. Where some addicts get track marks, food addicts get stretchmarks. With a refreshing amount of openness and honesty, Rochford shares how he lied and even resorted to stealing money to satiate his addiction. As he grew older, his weight problem affected his social life (by keeping it at bay), which perpetuated the cycle of emotional eating. Food was the only place he could find comfort and solace. It was the means by which he tried (and tried and tried) to fill the emptiness within him.<br />
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Thankfully, his story doesn't end there; but I don't want to give it all away! ;) What I love so much about this book is that it is raw in its honesty, putting words to what the rest of us are afraid to say: That there is a deeper issue underlying the need that some of us feel to eat beyond what is healthy.<br />
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Furthermore, in spite of the heavy topic (sorry-- no pun intended), Jeremy is able to keep you laughing with his stream-of-consciousness and sense of humor. It doesn't take long to realize that the man writes just like he talks, allowing you to settle into a comfortable conversation about a very uncomfortable topic.Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-48690705683840969582012-06-05T15:29:00.004-07:002012-06-05T15:29:49.494-07:00Consider the Lilies... And the Petunias... And Begonias... And-- Well, you get the point.While I was pulling a TON of flowers to go to markdown because they weren't in prime condition (few to no blooms, wilted, too leggy, etc), I was contemplating some issues that have come up in my life. There are some more changes that need to be made; there's more growing to be done. I've decided there is <i>always</i> more growing to be done-- but that's not the point... The point is that I was frustrated with the fact that even though I'd finally pinpointed and put names to these issues, acknowledged what was amiss-- those changes, that growing, still hadn't taken place. I could see the problem, but it was as if it was behind glass; I couldn't reach it to do anything about it. Of course, I understand that the "doing" is God's job; He's the One that makes things new. But I had reached the point of being ready for the growth, no matter how uncomfortable. All that to say, I was struggling with the holdup. What was taking so long? What was I doing or not doing to stand in the way of these changes?<br />
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And then He answered me...<br />
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"Look at what you're doing, with these flowers here. No one wants to pay the full price or endure the wait for what I do. You demand perfection before you give up anything, and then you expect it to stay perfect or even get better until you decide you've gotten your money's worth, or you give it back.<br />
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Take commercialized plants. Mass produced. So crammed together that they die before they get a chance to live. Forced to bloom before they're ready. ...Now there's a concept. I made seasons for a reason. Everything, every<i>one</i> experiences them- and I'm not just talking about the four that immediately come to mind. So maybe there's <i>not</i> a holdup. Maybe you're <i>not</i> standing in My way. Maybe it's just not quite your season to blossom yet. Maybe you need a little more rain, a little more tending to... It's such a process- an intricate design. So many things take place before the bloom. And they have to happen at <i>just</i> the right time, in <i>just</i> the right order, to achieve maximum success. Too many nutrients in the wrong place and the plant is leggy- lots of leaves and stem, not much flower. So there <i>is</i> an urgency for some things, at certain points, to happen just so. But that doesn't mean the immediate result will be the flower. It means the <b>end result</b> will be the <b>best possible</b> flower.<br />
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Trust Me to know what I'm doing. I am the Master Gardener after all. Rest in the process- and I assure you, it <i>is</i> taking place! The plant doesn't do anything but soak up the rain (that I provide), consume the nutrients (that I provide), and grow from the process that I set in motion. It doesn't choose to. It doesn't help Me, or hinder Me. It just is. When it's time for something in you to change, it will. It always has. Rest in that."<br />
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And He's right (go figure): I have countless examples of times when things have changed in me, in my life. And a lot of times, it seemed like a switch just flipped. But when I think about it, there was always time involved; and seldom did things happen when I thought they should. There's been turmoil and agony and waiting and waiting and waiting-- And then something just clicks, often times without any regard to what I have or have not done. Because He's planted me, and He's got this process going, and things are going to happen when and how they should for maximum impact. And my job is to just rest and abide and trust that when it's time to change, change happens.<br />
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Whew! Talk about a load off!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>"Look at the lilies and how they grow. <br />They don't work or make their clothing, <br />yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed<br /> as beautifully as they are."<br />Luke 12:27</i></span></div>Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-74216177038032222042012-06-05T14:53:00.000-07:002012-06-05T14:53:44.797-07:00Diary of a Mad Fat Woman; Entry #1Yes, I said fat. Go ahead and get your cringing out of the way now.<br />
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Yes, I am referring to myself. Save your arguments; it's a fact.</div>
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I got on the scale about a week and a half ago for the first time in a long time. It was devastating...</div>
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Heartbreaking...</div>
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Terrifying...</div>
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And INFURIATING!</div>
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I've been overweight for as long as I can recall. I've dealt with my fair share of last picks (if picked at all) for sports, dateless dances, and being the easiest target for insults hurled like dodgeballs. ...Aaaaannnnddd for those dodgeballs, now that I mention it... O_o</div>
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I don't like it. Never have.</div>
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I've shed many tears over it.</div>
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But I have taken it. I have let it go on. I have made half-hearted attempts in the past to change things, sure; but it has never been enough... </div>
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Until now.</div>
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One thing I've discovered about myself, and about women in general I think, is that we can tolerate a lot. I mean, a LOT-- That's why WE have the husbands and the kids, right? ;) We can let a less than perfect situation go on for quite some time. We may dislike it, but we can let it continue. It may sadden us, but still it goes on...</div>
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But once we are mad, that's it. Tolerance is over and turn-around begins. </div>
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When I stepped on that scale and saw the bare truth of what I had let happen, I snapped. Overweight is one thing, but I had let it reach the level of absolute absurdity! The medical term for where I am is "morbidly obese". And not just morbid in the sense of scary to see... Morbid in the sense of-- I'm gonna die.</div>
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I. Am. FURIOUS! How DARE I continue to turn a blind eye to the stealing away of my life!!! How DARE something like <i>food</i>-- something I should surely be master over to simply use as a tool to keep me alive-- become my oppressor and be the very thing that sends me to an early grave!!!! Not to mention the lack of quality of life I am experiencing on my WAY to that grave!! </div>
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What kind of thanks is it to the One Who gave me life-- and for a PURPOSE-- to squander that life and end it prematurely for love of a damned cheeseburger?!?!?!?! "Here I am, Lord! Use me! ...But lemme choke down this umpteenth donut first; I can feel my arteries unclogging."?!?!?! Really?! </div>
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No! HECK NO! </div>
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So I've joined the gym. And I'm changing my eating habits. By dropping the "habit" as a matter of fact. And I've been doing a Daniel fast. Because not only do I know that without God's working in this I am utterly hopeless, but also because I'm doing this for Him and for His glory. He gave me life in the beginning, and gave it back to me when I found myself in so much (other) bondage. And so now I do want to live this life He's given me FOR Him! Not for food. </div>
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And I am sharing this because I refuse to continue to "struggle silently" so that I may continue to fail. It's no longer about vanity; it's about life and death. And I'm choosing life!</div>
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So welcome to this new journey, feel free to come along. I'm gonna be real, and it's gonna get raw. I said before that things are changing, and I'm pretty sure that I still haven't even scratched the surface!</div>
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If you are or have been on your own weight loss journey, I welcome any resources, tips, advice, and encouragement you have to offer! </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span">"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Verdana, sans-seif; line-height: 22px;">This means that anyone </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Verdana, sans-seif; line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span">who belongs to Christ has become a new person. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;">2 Corinthians 5:17</span></span></div>Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-22509105824750776282012-05-29T15:17:00.002-07:002012-05-29T15:17:53.750-07:00My Big Bottom Blessing - Teasi Cannon (review)Wow. From the moment I read the title of this book, I was hooked! Cannon's wit and humor are evident from the first line of the introduction: "Does this book make my rear end look big?" (Cannon, xvii). Instantly, you're not reading a book; you're talking to a friend, one who not only has been where you probably are since you picked up the book but also who isn't afraid to bare all in order to glorify Daddy God and help bring about breakthrough in your own life! Her candidness keeps the reader totally engaged, laughing with her one minute and crying the next (at times tears of joy; at others, great sorrow). Much of her story like having a poor body image and low self-esteem from early childhood, dealing with both external and internal bullies, and making bad decisions in order to find even fleeting happiness and fulfillment reflects my own life in an uncanny way. I relived my own childhood while reading about hers: simultaneously hating what I saw in the mirror and being obsessed with looking. Hearing the taunts and jeers of other kids at school-- And let me tell you, I agree with Cannon 100% on that "sticks and stones" hogwash! "Words can never hurt me"?! PSH! Words can last forever.<br />
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But, as Cannon discovers and shares, there is hope! Because God has something to say about us, too; and His words bring life where others' do not! When we can get our minds and hearts around what GOD has to say about us-- Listen to HIS voice over the bullies'-- it is truly life-changing! It doesn't happen overnight, and it can really be a struggle at times. Nonetheless, Cannon's book not only helps you realize that you're not alone in this, it also aids in getting to the root of the issue by causing you to confront whatever it is: your past, your demons, your fears... It also inspires real dialogue with God-- Not just rattling off your list of pleases and thank yous, but really talking to Him, even if it's not always "polite and proper" on your end. Because that's the thing, God is REAL, and REALLY wants to have relationship with you, and wants you to know what HE says about you-- AND, He doesn't mind when you're "real" (confused, sad, angry). Not only does <u>My Big Bottom Blessing</u> help you realize who you are to God, it helps you realize who God wants to be to you!<br />
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Even if you've never struggled with weight, I would recommend this book to anyone. You'd be surprised what issues (and FREEDOM) may come up as you take this journey with Teasi and with God! Follow <a href="http://worthypublishing.com/books/My-Big-Bottom-Blessing/" target="_blank">this link</a> to find out more about the book, the author, and how you can purchase a copy! I truly hope it touches you as much as it has me!Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-36736663984350295452011-04-30T03:15:00.000-07:002011-04-30T03:16:47.830-07:00I do my best work at odd hours and in a time crunch......At least, I like to think so.<div><br /></div><div>I mean, look it! *points to blog title* I finally inserted a catchy title! Da dum, chah!</div><div><br /></div><div>Ok, maybe it's not overwhelmingly catchy or creative, but I think it sums it up pretty well... People kept asking what I wrote about, and the only "running theme" in my posts is that they are all based on occurrences from my day-to-day. Sure, "big and noisy" get our attention at the moment; but it's what gets etched forever on our hearts that really matters. And those things usually sneak up on us, quiet and unassuming, easily miss-able, as we go about our daily lives.</div><div><br /></div><div>So there you have it-- TA DA-- Another Day in the Life...</div><div><br /></div><div>So where've I been? Well, right now I'm sitting in a hotel room in Cincinnati, Ohio, waiting on the iron to heat up. Confession: That's code for "Putting off ironing as long as possible because I hate it with a passion." In retrospect, I think hanging the shirt and vest I want to wear today on a rack rather than folding them and putting them in a suitcase for the 9 hour trip would have probably spared me the absolute dire need of ironing. Ah well, you live, you learn.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is my first post of 2011. That's crazy! It's not that I haven't wanted to write. Or that I don't have an entire page full of ideas of things to write about. I could blame it on lack of time, but that's only marginally an issue. But something-- well, some <i>things</i> have changed. Unfortunately, it's the impalpable, the intangible, and therefore the not-easily-written-aboutable... Subtle changes. No, not really subtle; not to me anyway. But <i>internal</i> changes. Changes in passions and perceptions, dreams and desires...</div><div><br /></div><div><b>URGH!</b> I really don't mean to sound so cryptic! I wish I could just tear open my soul and dump it out on this keyboard, download through osmosis what's inside my spirit that is stirring and leaping and demanding release! But I can't; so let's just suffice it to say that I've changed, and am still in the process of it. And I'm pretty sure that change is going to show through in my writing, once I start writing regularly again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe that's part of it. Change is never easy, especially when you're in the middle of it. Even good change, and welcomed. And to blurt it all out, to divulge and rant about this new season as it unfolds when it only unfolds so little at a time, without giving it time to sink in and to temper and to really make sense, would probably just make me sound crazy(er). It has been a tendency of mine in times past to go off half-cocked, which is terribly ineffective at best and negatively effective more often than not. God has been dealing with me the last several months on stopping that. I have been learning, over and over and over, to wait and to do so quietly...</div><div><br /></div><div>All that to say, bear with me. I'm still here. I will write more often again. Probably soon. In the meantime, I have to go turn the iron back on (stupid auto-off) and finish getting ready for the Love Won Out conference, my reason for being in Ohio.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh! One last thing! I would be terribly amiss to write a post on this particular day without giving a shout out to my dear friend and <a href="http://www.hope4thejourney.blogspot.com/">fellow blogger</a>... HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANGIE!!!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Let all that I am wait quietly before God,</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >for my hope is in him."</span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >Psalm 62:5</span></div>Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-18001712300114925972010-12-08T19:57:00.000-08:002010-12-17T12:15:27.982-08:00Letting Go<p><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NylNatTYBSM?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><br /><br /><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NylNatTYBSM?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></p><p>I love this song! It's such a good explanation of what it feels like to trust in God, to give up our own ideas for what our life should be like and embrace instead His plan. Because it's true: His ways ARE higher than our ways. </p><p>Over the Summer, I went with my family to Pigeon Forge, TN for a much-needed vacation. On our last day there, I did something I'd been wanting to do for a long time: I rode the Superman! That's not what this particular place called it, but still... You strap into the harness so that you're on your belly and they take you up about 80 feet in the air to drop you, then you swing REALLY high for a long time. This is how the conversation with my attendant went, once I was in the harness:</p><p>Him: "OK, go ahead and start leaning forward, your feet are going to come out from under you in just a second."</p><p>Me: "HUMPH!" (as my feet shot out behind me and I found myself studying the gum-strewn concrete from 3 feet up. It was then that it dawned on me, there's no cushioning should the mechanism fail... *gulp*)</p><p>Him: (as I'm eye-level with him and steadily climbing.) "When you get all the way to the top, I'm gonna count you off-- 1-2-3-- Then you're gonna pull that cord on your right hip."</p><p>Me: "OK-- WHOA!HANGON! WHO'S gonna pull the cord?!?!?!?!?!"</p><p>Him: "You are. Wait til I count. Have a nice flight!"</p><p>NO KIDDING, wait til you count!!! I had to be responsible for pulling the cord?!?! For <strong>letting go</strong> and <strong>trusting</strong> the rope I was dangling from to do its job? At 30 feet, I seriously began questioning my sanity. At 50, I was gulping down air, telling myself repeatedly how unhappy the onlookers below would be if I didn't hang on to my breakfast. At 80, the machine stopped. And so did my heart.</p><p>ONE! (Oh holy Jesus, what am I DOING?!?!?!?!)</p><p><em>TWO</em>! (I can do this! --I can't do this! --I CAN do this!!! --I can't--)</p><p><strong>THREE!!! </strong>(Ooohhhh Gooooddddd!!!!!)</p><p>My hand clumsily found the cord. My eyes rolled around, not actually focusing on anything, just taking in a blurry sea of hard, hard ground. The go kart race below became muffled and distant. I inhaled deeply, held it, and tugged on the cord. For a moment (that felt like eternity) nothing happened. I just hung there. Then I began my rapid descent towards the ground. I didn't breathe again until I felt the cord pull tight and I began the arc upwards (after coming <em>terrifyingly</em> close to the pavement). From there, it was AWESOME!!!</p><p>Letting go is both exhilarating and nauseating. You want to shout with joy and expectation while at the same time weep in fear and mourning for what you're letting go. It is terribly wonderful, and wonderfully terrible! It's scary. There's comfort in having something to hold onto: our routines, certain people, different things that have been a part of our lives so long that we don't remember life without them.</p><p>We find our security in these things that we cling to. But God's promise is that HE is our security. He will never leave, never forsake; He does not change. There is much more strength in HIS grasp than in our own. And sometimes we need to let go of our "stuff" so that we can cling more tightly to Him. THAT'S where true comfort is. </p><p>So what is it that you're hanging on to? Let me encourage you to let go. Pull the cord; feel the wind on your face!</p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Don't be afraid, for I am with you.<br />Don't be discouraged, for I am your God.<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">I will strengthen you and help you.<br />I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.<br />Isaiah 41:10 </span></p>Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-70761318015892753582010-12-01T11:10:00.000-08:002010-12-01T16:32:46.006-08:00"Don't just DO something! STAND THERE!!!"I love these words from White Rabbit in <em>Alice in Wonderland!</em> But I never thought they'd be fitting in any situation but sarcasm... Until I just couldn't take it anymore...<br /><br /><br />I told you in <a href="http://maricamcgrady.blogspot.com/2010/11/silver-bells-red-kettles-and-pavlovs.html">this post</a> all about the Salvation Army bells and how they ALWAYS make me cry. Last week, as I got out of my truck and heard the bells and started crying and <strong>wishing</strong> there was something I could <em>do</em>, I heard a voice say those words to me: Don't just "do something" (wish that you could, but can't and so <strong>nothing</strong> gets done at all)! <strong>STAND THERE!!</strong><br /><br />I asked the guy how to get involved, got the number, and rang a bell for the first time last night. Yes, I choked up a couple times. Can it. ;) Well, that's all well and good, I thought, but what if we could make it more interesting? I like to make things interesting...<br /><br />So I challenged my Millbrook-area friends to come see me and make a donation. In return, I would sing a Christmas song for them. It was a nasty night, so I don't really blame anyone for not turning out (except for the Smiths-- THANK YOU GUYS!!!)!<br /><br />Well that challenge is still on! I'll be letting you know my bell ringing schedule so you can come donate and have a song sung in your honor... But while I was on the Salvation Army website today I found-- wait for it... an <strong>online kettle!!!</strong> Oh this is just TOO good to pass up!<br /><br />That's right! I'm now ringing the bell ONLINE! Check out the widget on the right that keeps up with the progress of online donations!<br /><br />And <strong>furthermore</strong>-- I'm extending the challenge to the online kettle! For every online donation, I'll sing while I'm at the real kettle in Millbrook!<br /><br />So to ALL my friends, local and only close-at-heart, I wanna sing for you! But there's only ONE way to make that happen (well, two, technically)... Please help me make a difference in the lives of so many who just need a little hope this year!!!Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-77895933157266893862010-11-25T19:38:00.000-08:002010-11-25T21:47:54.471-08:00Heaven Is For Real - Todd Burpo (book review)<em>Heaven Is For Real</em> by Todd Burpo is the amazing TRUE story of a little boy's journey to Heaven during a life-saving operation. Burpo's son, not quite 4 at the time of the surgery, waited until months went by to reveal the story of angels singing to him in the hospital. Throughout the course of the next few years, in ways that only a child can, he recants stories of his trip to Heaven with his family that include telling his parents what they had been doing while he was under anesthesia, meeting his great-grandfather (that he never knew on earth), and telling them things about Heaven that he would have no reason or means of knowing (save experience).<br /><br />From the first page of the introduction, this story kept me in tears! The emotional roller coaster this family experienced, the intricate weave of the good with the bad, kept me turning page after page! I had the story read in a matter of hours; I couldn't put it down! Reading Colton's descriptions of what to expect in Heaven makes me that much more excited and expectant to get there one day! I would definitely recommend this book to ANYONE who questions what will happen after we breathe our last here on earth!Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-45538808958773105782010-11-20T20:17:00.000-08:002010-11-21T10:50:58.128-08:00Silver Bells and Pavlov's DogsYou know how the Salvation Army puts out <a href="http://www.salvationarmyusa.org/usn/www_usn_2.nsf/vw-text-dynamic-arrays/4517219C16BEE8F8802573F50056F031?openDocument">red kettles</a> at the entrances of pretty much every store you visit during the holiday season? And how they have people manning the buckets, ringing little silver bells? A lot of people have different responses to this situation. They roll their eyes and walk an arc around the kettle. They walk by talking loudly about how the Salvation Army doesn't properly handle the money (not that this is my opinion!). They reluctantly pull the change out of their pocket, not bothering to pick the lint out before dropping it in...<br /><br />Me? I cry. It's a <a href="http://nobelprize.org/educational/medicine/pavlov/readmore.html">Pavlov's dog</a> sort of response, and rather embarrassing really. And this is every time I hear the bells. EVERY time. If I'm lucky, I'll just get a lump in my throat; more often than not, tears will sting my eyelids. But if I'm not careful, sometimes they'll escape, along with a couple of shaky sobs before I can regain my composure.<br /><br />Why the dramatics? Am I that in love with the <a href="http://www.salvationarmyusa.org/usn/www_usn_2.nsf">Salvation Army</a>? Or with that tell-tale sign of the holiday season? No... It's because I remember. For the other 10 months of the year, it doesn't phase me quite so much. I get so immersed in my own goings on, so focused on accomplishing the task at hand or keeping straight the To-Do list that I can forget. But in that faint tinkling sound, I hear <em>their</em> cries. The starving child whose mother doesn't know where the next meal is coming from. The young woman on a dingy cot in yet another shelter. The countless souls on the streets with nowhere to live and no means to make a living. The kids in the group home that will get nothing for Christmas if not for the kindness of strangers. For 10 months it's quiet in my world. Sure there are the occasional television commercials or ads in a magazine, but a click of the remote and a flip of the page and there's silence once again. Then November rolls around, and the inescapable bells are back...<br /><br />And I realize, <em>the needs never left</em>. They're still there, hungry and homeless and broken in spirit, just like they have been January-October... And with barely getting my own ends to see each other (much less meet), I feel so helpless. My heart breaks at the sound of the bells, at the thought of the people those bells represent. Then it breaks even more because I can't make the bells stop. Not out of my pocket. Not all by myself.<br /><br />But there are so many <a href="http://www.salvationarmyusa.org/usn/www_usn_2.nsf/vw-local/Ways-to-give">ways to give</a>. I want to find somewhere to <a href="http://www.volunteermatch.org/">volunteer</a>, even year round. Maybe a <a href="http://www.211connectsalabama.org/MatchList.aspx?c;;0;;;0;7973;Shelter/Housing/Transportation;Homeless%20Shelters/Services;163;Soup%20Kitchens">local food bank or soup kitchen</a> to help out with on Thanksgiving. Maybe I'll even <a href="http://www.ringbells.org/">ring a bell</a> myself by Christmas! Ok, so that link doesn't do any good for my area, but it's neat that such a site even exists! And I really would like to ring a bell... Even though I'd just stand there and cry the whole time.<br /><br />I know I can't do it all. But I can't let what I can't do keep me from doing what I can.<br /><br />So if you're in a Tri-County area Walmart through Christmastime and hear someone squalling in the parking lot, chances are it's nothing to worry about... Just me folding up a couple of dollar bills, praying Jesus does His loaves and fishes thing with them. I just want to make the bells stop. Hopefully, you'll join me and figure out in what ways you can make a difference too. Because even when it doesn't feel like it, even when we never see the end result, even when it's only two months out of the year, every little bit does make a difference.<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">"And the King will say, 'I tell you the truth, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">when you did it to one of the least of these... </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">you were doing it to me!'"</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Matthew 25:40</span></div>Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-35877469753009240432010-11-10T21:30:00.000-08:002010-11-13T05:57:00.564-08:00Whack-A-MoleIt's that glorious time of day! Almostnaptime! After hours of being covered in snot, tears, dirt, food, and Idon'tevenwannaknowwhatthatis, we gear up for a blissful rest! The tables are clean, the lights are off, the kids are on their cots. We inhale for that downshifting sigh... When all of the sudden--<br /><br />Heads pop up.<br /><br />Bodies flip.<br /><br />Legs flail.<br /><br />And for probably a lot less time than it feels like, we dart around playing the gentlest, quietest game of Whack-A-Mole ever! Lay back down! Roll back over! SSSHHHHHHHHH!!!!!<br /><br />But, Tica, you don't understand! There are objects in this room I haven't tasted yet! I have imaginary touchdowns to make! Mom's calling me on the Elmophone! I haven't finalized my sonata on the alligator xylophone! I haven't decided yet whether it's an alligator or a crocodile! <em>I HAVEN'T EVEN LEARNED THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO!</em> <strong>There's so much I have to DOOOOOO!!!!</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />Of course, what I DO understand is how much they <em>need</em> this rest in order to enjoy the rest of their day. And even beyond the day, adequate sleep is needed for proper development so that they can grow up to make real touchdowns and write sonatas on Steinways (which look nothing like a reptile. How sad.)! That little break is essential to prepare them for what's to come... If only they could understand how important naptime today is for their futures, they wouldn't fight it so much!!!<br /><br />(This one's gonna sting a little...)<br /><br />Marica, it's time to take a break.<br /><br />It is naptime. Time to put away the doing and rest. To relax and to breathe deeply for a while. To get prepared for what's to come.<br /><br />But, God, You don't understand! I've got this project over here and those people over there and I've got to finish this project and start on that one and and and-- <strong>There's so much I have to DOOOOOO!!!!</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />I flip and flail and fight. I fidget and twitch restlessly, thinking of all the things that are going undone because I'm just lying here. I try to get back up while He's not looking...<br /><br />Yeah, that works even less for me with Him than it does for the kids with me.<br /><br />It's scary and unnerving to not be doing. Especially for a doer. I don't like it. Just like my toddlers, I can't immediately see the point in stopping what I'm doing <em>now</em>. Isn't this thing important? Why would letting it go unfinished be a good thing?<br /><br />But I must remember that He sees the end from the beginning. He knows there is more ahead. Before long, I'll be exchanging my xylophone for a baby grand (follow the metaphor here; I don't play either) and I'll need my rest for proper development. I may not like it right now, but I know it's for my best down the road. So I do my best to embrace this not doing in the present, trusting that it's all part of His plan for my future.<br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">"For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord. </span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">"They are plans for good and not for disaster, </span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>to give you a future </em>and a hope." </span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Jeremiah 29:11</span></strong></div>Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-70991658754007264412010-10-26T21:26:00.000-07:002010-10-27T21:35:45.059-07:00A Joyful NoiseMy mother gave her life to God last summer. That began her journey into the world of music devoted to the Creator and Redeemer, especially the stuff she heard at church on the weekends. She ransacked my collection of CD's, wearing them out in her portable CD player, lamenting as one song after another became scratched to the point of no return.<br /><br />So my sister and I got her an mp3 player for Mother's Day, and my <a href="http://hope4thejourney.blogspot.com/">dear friend</a> loaded it with some great stuff from her own collection (which is, admittedly, much more extensive than mine). As with the portable CD player, she would don her headphones and be "Jammin' with Jesus" for hours on end.<br /><br />She loves to sing along, praising the One who makes all things new.<br /><br />She <em>cannot</em> sing. Even without the headphones on and at full volume. Seriously. It's... It's bad. I'm not gonna lie.<br /><br />...My niece starts to ask "What's that sou-- Oh," giggles, "Mawmaw's singin again." More giggles.<br /><br />...I pull in the front yard and panic wondering what is crying out in agony.<br /><br />...People driving past with their windows down slow down and look around with worried expressions.<br /><br />...Dogs howl in the distance.<br /><br />...And I fully believe that God responds, too.<br /><br />I can hear Him hush all of Heaven, so He can listen. I envision the Holy Spirit stopping what He is doing to hover over her, enrapt by the <strong>beautiful sound</strong> rising up to Him. I can picture Jesus leaning over, savoring the <strong>sweet aroma</strong> that is her <strong>praise</strong>!<br /><br />She knows Who her audience is. And it's not me, or the neighbors, or the dogs down the street. She could care less what we think. And her Audience doesn't hear the missed notes. He hears a melody, pure and holy; unrivaled by the angels themselves! An offering of adoration poured out from a heart that once was dead and knows it! She's not worried about her singing; she's rejoicing in the new life she's been given! Making a <strong><a href="http://read.ly/Ps100.1.KJV">joyful noise</a></strong>!<br /><br />And I am convinced that Mom's singing is God's favorite.Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-62136594190928817132010-10-21T19:23:00.000-07:002010-10-21T22:28:38.176-07:00Eventual LeftYou know that guy in front of you, with his left turn signal going?<br /><br />"Wait, he just turned <em>right</em> out of that parking lot. Why is his <em>left</em> signal on?"<br /><br />*blink, blink, blink*<br /><br />"Maybe his right one's broken and he was just doing the best he could. It should go off riiigghhttt aboooouuuutttt now."<br /><br />*blink, blink*<br /><br />"Hm. Well, he'll hear it clicking in just a second." You tighten your grip on the steering wheel in subconscious agitation. Your palms start sweating and you realize you're gritting your teeth...<br /><br />*blink, blink, blink*<br /><br /><strong>"TURN YOUR BLINKER OFF ALREADY OR GO LEFT, MAN!" </strong><br /><br />...OK. So maybe the <strong>"eventual left"</strong> doesn't bug you as much as it does me. But I got behind that guy on my way home from work tonight and MAN does it bug me!<br /><br />Of course, that guy doesn't <em>mean</em> to raise my blood pressure. He's not even aware of the fact that he is sending mixed signals (I meant to do that.). <em>Inside the car</em>, he is heading <em>forward</em>, toward his destination. <em>Outside the car</em>, the rest of us are thinking he's gonna turn there. No. Maybe<em> there. </em>No. There. No. He gives the <em>impression</em> that he's turning, when in fact that is (apparently) not his <em>intention</em> at all.<br /><br />And that got me thinking... How often am <em>I</em> an eventual left?<br /><br /><em>In my heart,</em> I want to "praise the Lord at all times." <em>In my countenance,</em> the busted radiator hose spewing antifreeze out of my truck irreparably damages my day.<br /><br /><em>In my heart, </em>I strive to be compassionate. <em>In my communicating, </em>I don't hear what my mother is saying because I'm already whining about my terrible day before she even finishes her thought.<br /><br /><em>In my heart, </em>I long to be selfless. <em>In my actions,</em> everything I do, say, think, intend, plan, contemplate is centered around how it benefits Numero Uno. Or would it be "Numera Una" in my case? I digress...<br /><br />My <em>intention</em> is to live as Christlike as possible. To serve others. To help people. To be a willing vessel that He can use in whatever capacity He chooses. And to do it all with a good attitude. But sometimes, maybe even most times, the <em>impression</em> I give is entirely different.<br /><br />Thank God for that little nudge, that voice that says, "You're blinker's on. You look pretty stupid right now cuz you're saying you're turning, but you're not planning on it. Might wanna turn that off." (Hey, the Holy Spirit communicates in ways I can understand, ok? Hehe.)<br /><br />What about you? Have you ever found yourself driving with your blinker on?Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-75450001841325661862010-10-19T00:05:00.000-07:002010-10-19T01:29:01.854-07:00I Boke It, Tica!I work at a daycare with 12-24 month old toddlers. They call me Tica, which is the name my niece gave me when from "Aunt Marica" she picked out the "T" and "-ica".<br /><br />There was one little girl. Big green eyes, hair always falling into her cherubic little face no matter how many bows her mother adorned her with... And at 22-months-old she knew everything and could do it all by herself!<br /><br />"You're going to break it if you don't let me help." I'd warn as she pulled on and struggled with a toy that she knew came apart but didn't quite know how. I'd reach and she'd snatch away. I'd tell her to let me show her and she'd turn her back to me. Utterly irritated, I would finally just give up and turn my attention to someone else.<br /><br />And inevitably...<br /><br />"I boke it, Tica." There she would be at my knee, pieces of toy in each hand, looking up at me with those big green eyes. No apologies in those eyes. No "You were rights" or "I was wrongs". No excuses. Just faith. Absolute trust that I could put it back together good as new. I could have left the toy in pieces to prove the point that she should have let me help in the first place, and many times I wanted to. But that complete faith in those innocent eyes and that sweet voice with her missing R's was always too disarming. It never failed that I would pick her up and put her in my lap to let her watch as I popped little plastic parts back in place. She would grin at me in awe as I handed her toy back, good as new, and then she'd be off trying to take it apart again...<br /><br /><strong>"I broke it, God"</strong> I say as I display the disassembled fragments of situation that I pushed and pulled and tugged and twisted, being sure that the desired outcome had to be there <em>somehow, </em>until it all just fell apart. How exasperated He must get with me, knowing that He has the answers if I would just <em>listen</em> and <em>let Him. </em>But at 24-years-old I know everything and can do it all by myself. How tempting it must be to just leave my life in the shambles I put it in, in order to teach me the lesson.<br /><br />And yet how just like Him to smile, pull me into His lap and say "Watch" as He effortlessly repairs the damage I have done. And even to revel in my wonder as I look up at him in amazement when He hands me back something even better than before!<br /><br /><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">"I tell you the truth, anyone who doesn't receive </span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">the Kingdom of God </span></em><em><span style="font-size:85%;">like a child will never enter it." </span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Jesus as recorded in Mark 10:15</span></em></div>Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-79507098425137965102010-10-11T00:35:00.000-07:002010-10-18T22:45:15.489-07:00Renaissance<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-noun. a renewal of life, vigor, interest, etc.; rebirth; revival (dictionary.com).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">That's what this blog needs: a renewal of life, a renaissance.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Who am I kidding? Renaissance is what this GIRL needs! And I'm getting it, whether I like it or not. I scream <em>I need change</em>, and nothing happens. God says <em>We're redoing things now</em>, and I squeak and panic and start grabbing at things that He's shaking loose as if I can keep it all in place.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I'm a control freak. He's determined to break me of it. And deep down, I want it to happen. I want to let go. To just surrender and enjoy the ride. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Here's to trying! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Here's to Renaissance!</span>Maricahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03633934619665823189noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-13943393786359621272009-01-21T23:18:00.000-08:002009-01-23T10:33:55.714-08:00What is Great?<span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">This was going to be a book. But I'm a slacker, and books take research and stuff... SO-- It's an essay. lol. :) There is a good chance, however, that I will expand on some of the points later on... In the meantime, hope you enjoy what's here.</span><br /><br />Everyone is called to greatness-- EVERYONE. But most of us never attain it; some quit trying, some never start, and some just miss the mark. Regardless of the how, the why is the same: People miss out on becoming great because we have forgotten the <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">meaning</span> of greatness.<br /><br />Greatness is not being world famous-- or even popular at home. It isn't being "stinking' rich." It doesn't have anything to do with your finances. It's not being "on top" or having it made or living on Easy Street. Being great doesn't require talent or material things... or <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">anything</span> that today's celebrities have over us "Average Joes."<br /><br />Greatness is an attitude, a mindset. Something that can only start and be maintained from within. It begins in the absence of fame and fortune, and continues <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">in spite<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"> of</span></span> their presence. Greatness is realizing that it's more fulfilling to serve than to be served. It's always having the right thing to say-- or remaining silent if you don't. It's having joy in the absence of happiness. It's remaining upright when everything tries to bring you down. It's continuing forward when the unforeseen occurs.<br /><br />Mark 10:43-45 sums it up pretty well. This is what Jesus had to say to His disciples about greatness:<br /><br />"<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">...Whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant;</span><span class="sup" id="en-NASB-24633" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be slave of all. </span><span class="sup" id="en-NASB-24634" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many."</span><br /><br />So I challenge you, now that you know you possess the necessary ingredients... Go be great!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2361921560390912911.post-33867994270085112072009-01-15T16:50:00.000-08:002009-01-15T17:55:08.094-08:00"Tell me, what do you have in your house?"<span id="en-NIV-en-NASB-en-MSG-4409" class="sup"></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">One day the wife of a man from the guild of prophets called out to Elisha, "Your servant my husband is dead. You well know what a good man he was, devoted to </span><span style="font-variant: small-caps; font-weight: bold;">God</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">. And now the man to whom he was in debt is on his way to collect by taking my two children as slaves." </span><p style="font-weight: bold;"><span id="en-NIV-en-NASB-en-MSG-4410" class="sup"></span>Elisha said, "I wonder how I can be of help. Tell me, what do you have in your house?" </p><p style="font-weight: bold;">"Nothing," she said. "Well, I do have a little oil." </p><p style="font-weight: bold;"><span id="en-NIV-en-NASB-en-MSG-4411" class="sup"></span>"Here's what you do," said Elisha. "Go up and down the street and borrow jugs and bowls from all your neighbors. And not just a few—all you can get. Then come home and lock the door behind you, you and your sons. Pour oil into each container; when each is full, set it aside." </p><p style="font-weight: bold;"><span id="en-NIV-en-NASB-en-MSG-4412" class="sup"></span>She did what he said. She locked the door behind her and her sons; as they brought the containers to her, she filled them. When all the jugs and bowls were full, she said to one of her sons, "Another jug, please." </p><p style="font-weight: bold;">He said, "That's it. There are no more jugs." </p><p style="font-weight: bold;">Then the oil stopped.<br /></p><p><span style="font-weight: bold;">(2 Kings 4:1-6, MSG)</span></p><p>Over the past several weeks, I have really been struggling to walk in the direction of my calling. Through a series of less than pleasant events, I-- Well... I more or less got stripped of everything I thought I had going for me, everything that "qualified" me to do what I felt God was calling me towards. There He was, beckoning for me to come to Him. And here I stood, wanting so desperately to go. <span style="font-style: italic;">But how?</span> I asked... <span style="font-style: italic;">I don't have the means</span>... It's like trying to get across the ocean and not having a boat.<br /></p><p>It was so little that at first she didn't even think to mention it. And I can just imagine the doubt in her voice when she did say it-- <span style="font-style: italic;">I have just a jar of oil, nothing of great consequence</span>. But amazingly, when Elisha instructed her to take that one little measly <span style="font-weight: bold;">jar</span> and fill up a <span style="font-weight: bold;">number of bigger containers</span> she didn't gawk at him and tell him he was crazy, that was impossible. I would have. And admit it, so would you! How could ONE JAR fill up anything more than ONE OTHER JAR?!?!?!?! But she did as she was told, without question...<br /></p><p><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>In my own story, I went from feeling stripped of everything, to knowing I had a little bit of... of something. I have a desire. To fulfill that calling, to run to Him, to serve His people... It's not much, but it's something. But I questioned, <span style="font-style: italic;">How am I supposed to make this amount to anything usable</span>? And that's when God reminded me of the widow and the oil. And as I read, He said, <span style="font-style: italic;">She didn't make the oil amount to anything, did she? She just did what she could. She borrowed vessels, and she tilted her jar over them. I caused the oil to keep flowing</span>. Then He drove it home, <span style="font-style: italic;">You tilt your jar; watch what pours out. And don't stop until there's not another vessel to pour into</span>.</p><p>She didn't question the outcome, she just did the possible. She borrowed the vessels; she tilted her jar; she left the rest up to God.</p><p>So what do YOU have in YOUR house? What "little" thing is dwelling within you that you think can't amount to any more than it is?<br /></p><p>It doesn't matter whether or not we think there will be a successful outcome. All He asks is that we do the possible part. It's up to Him to do the impossible.<br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1