Mother of the Bride dress ... yes, no, maybe so?
4/25/12
4/11/12
Let The Games Begin
In fact, I'm wearing the sweatshirt I have on in this picture circa early '90's, as I speak. On an scale of 1-10, I'm probably about a negative 43. OK, let's face, it I'm a mess.
But there's always hope. Just look at my pinterest tab. Everything labeled and on it's little organized grid board. And all with catchy titles. I especially like my fashion board title, If I Cared About Style. My pinterest site suggested I follow my niece Ashley, so I clicked over to her site and laughed out loud when I read her profile statement, "I can't decide if pinterest is annoying or not."
I do care how I look and it totally frustrates me when I can't find a file, fax, or tax paper . I'm working on my organizational and fashionable skills and recently got everything all neatly arranged and behind
I found a new trick for logging what I do during the day. I set the timer on my phone and then make myself work on one thing until the timer goes off. The other day I hit stopwatch instead of timer, started out on a walk, forgot all about stopping the stopwatch. According to my iPhone, I walked for 68 hours, 7 minutes, and 42 seconds.Dangle a shiny, new, pretty book in my face and I'm distracted like a "Peanuts" 4th grade school child character.
When the reality TV series "Survivor" first debuted, my son demanded a refund. His commentary; This is not what I expected with a title like Survivor. I thought they would throw a bunch of people on a deserted island and see who survives. This show has nothing to do with surviving ... it should be called, "Voter". You shoulda wrote a book, Ben.
I've only read the first book of The Hunger Games, but I'm hooked. The analogy's can go all sorts of ways; anit-big government, social injustice, sacrificial lambs, but one can't help putting our crazy quest for entertainment as the mother ship of all analogies.
Most likely this was quoted while in her sunday finest slowly walking the red carpet and waving to nameless faces: Even Jennifer Lawrence, the star of the film, has gotten in on the act. She told Parade magazine recently that she saw "The Hunger Games" primarily as an indictment of our obsession with reality television. "I was watching the Kardashian girl getting divorced, and that's a tragedy for anyone," she said. "But they're using it for entertainment, and we're watching it. The books hold up a terrible kind of mirror: This is what our society could be like if we became desensitized to trauma and to each other's pain."
This is what our society COULD be like????? With our flagrant obsessions over fame, fashion, fun, fortune, and the fountain of youth, honey, we're already on the darkside of hunger games.
"How you spend your time is how you spend your life."
But because I'm human and outright fickle, I'll set my timer, head out to do some yard work, all while downloading book two; Catching Fire. Let the {hockey} games begin.
4/10/12
The Big 1-0
Every picture tells a story and everyone has a story to tell. I'll let the pictures do the talking.
Thank goodness bracketball is over, now I can concentrate on "The Hunger Games" trilogy.
Next up: Articles of Organization and how 'bout them Tigers?
3/31/12
Buggy & Bunny
… he commanded our fathers so the next generation would know them, even the children yet to be born, and they in turn would tell their children. Then they would put their trust in God and would not forget his deeds but would keep his commandments. Psalm 78:6, 7
I'm scurrying to get the birthday party pics together, just as with the engagement party, the birthday parties were celebrations to be remembered a lifetime. The babies, the videos, the parents, the families, all huddled together in gratefulness and thanksgiving. Oh my goodness or better said:
God is good...all the time. If you read here, know you're on my
Have a life-changing Holy Week.…
All pictures edited and created in the iPastels app on the iPad
All grandbabies created and born 4 days apart in 2011 Happy Birthday Max & Lilly
Linking up today with Still Saturday
All grandbabies created and born 4 days apart in 2011 Happy Birthday Max & Lilly
Linking up today with Still Saturday
3/30/12
T.G.I.F.
Found these in my small town (pop. 800) antique store which used to be the 5 and dime store.
Another blog post.
Wine glasses are the new cupcakes.
Linking up today with:
The sister at Savvycityfarmer ~Thriftin' on a Thursday
Common Ground's ~ Vintage Inspiration Friday
My friend Kate ~ Hopefully a HH Skype date!
And you? -----------------------------------------------> Join Grey Barn STORIES
Common Ground's ~ Vintage Inspiration Friday
My friend Kate ~ Hopefully a HH Skype date!
And you? -----------------------------------------------> Join Grey Barn STORIES
3/21/12
Signed, Sealed, Delivered
Like a fool I stayed away too long---from this blog entry---I hope I do it justice after selfishly hoarding and harboring the moments. And technically, it won't be signed and sealed until 9-22-12, but it's a done deal.
When Spencer asked us if he could marry Melissa, of course, we said yes. A year and 1/2 ago, when he asked us if he could date her, my heart began to wonder if he would be our sixth child. Last summer and into the fall, as I watched Melissa's countenance and saw her heart out on her sleeve, my wondering ceased.
So let's get right to the logistics. After wedrilled him poured out our heart and souls to him, and talked way too much about the do's and don'ts of a happy marriage, I asked him what his proposal plans were. I proceeded to talk, without waiting for him to answer, and sang my silly song of taking a walk to the railroad tracks and looking for smashed pennies. (I guess my railroad tracks proposal is up for grabs ... or will have to go in the novel)
I started to mention the beach in Muskegon, it's one of Melissa's favorite places, when Mark kicked me under the figurative "let the boy talk table" and did the universal sign for shut the front door.
You could tell he'd been mulling this over for awhile (Spencer, not Mark). And so it went something like this:
The whole family decided to come to the farm for a little bit of "family time" with a Max & Lilly birthday party, as the decoy.
Spencer would beg off with an overwhelmed-at-work excuse, which was totally not a lie. Then the planning began.
I can't even imagine the scurrying that took place on Spencer's side of the family, but know this, the mother and sister of the groom, may have missed their calling. They are party planners extraordinaire, and had only Melissa and Spencer in their thoughts as they pulled curtains from their house, glued buttons on mason jars while in their pajamas, practically furnished the birthday party brunch, packed the car to the gills including the unused awning, and brought crates full of generosity.
The family of the groom arrived and proceeded on their walk about of the farm where Melissa played as a young girl. They embraced the wedding tool shed and saw the places they'd only heard about in stories, from their long time family friends; Melissa's Uncle Ron and Aunt Ardy.
The defining moment came while in the barn bay underneath a row of scruffy old wooden ladders. Even though a look-a-like picture is posted on Melissa's pinterest board as a wedding idea, this would be the spot where her Spencer would propose.
And so with joy and awesome weather, the transformation began. Load out, load in. Hang and drape. Sweep and sway. Sisters and kittens. Lofty and lovely. And with only minutes to spare, as the wind picked and the cold front marched in, the texts came from the brother of the bride ... "We have the package"... "We've stopped for a baby break"... "On the road again"... "30 minutes away"... "10" ... "5" ....
Light the candles, places everyone.
We made Jen the spokesperson for getting Melissa to the barn, "Hey, Melissa, come see what we mocked up for the wedding, down in the barn."
Melissa, "You guys know there's a winter tornado brewing out there, right?"
Me, "Yeah, here's a scarf and some mittens, you gotta see this." (I didn't want her to be cold, Spencer had 30-45 minutes of material)
We braced the wind and escorted her across the empty driveway, opened the barn door, shoved her in, closed the barn door, and peaked through the cracks (only for a minute, c'mon.)
The sign for all of us to head down to the proposal site and melt Melissa into a puddle of tears, for the 2nd time that night, would be when Spencer opened the barn door.
Without spoiling their version, I can't really tell the whole story without a bit of conversation from those 45 minutes while 15 pairs of eyes watched and waited from the two houses.
Melissa, as she turned around to see where Jen and I had gone and noticed Spencer in the corner, "What are you doing here?"
Spencer, while embracing her and waiting for her avalanche of reality to hit, "What do you think I'm doing here?"
They talked, they prayed, they cried, and they had their own little dance party. Melissa was overwhelmed with it all. Thenthe wind moved the barn door a tad Spencer opened the door and we shot out like canon circus entertainers. Just beyond their sight, at the threshold, grandpa started "Praise God from whom all blessings flow," we gathered around them to finish the song and show our support, as we will for the rest of their lives.
Even though she said it felt like she was in a movie, she embraced the moment(s), wrote all 45 of them on her heart and said yes.
As 3 cats and a kitten skitted about and pawed at the decorations while we borrowed their living room, the overjoyed bride-and-groom-to-be, 3 grandparents, 4 parents, 7 siblings, 1 aunt, and 2 babies, joined hands and asked God to bless the marriage and the blending of families. Then we partied in the big house with Pizza King, continuing the celebrattion with a toast to the happy couple. Eat, drink, and be married.
When Spencer asked us if he could marry Melissa, of course, we said yes. A year and 1/2 ago, when he asked us if he could date her, my heart began to wonder if he would be our sixth child. Last summer and into the fall, as I watched Melissa's countenance and saw her heart out on her sleeve, my wondering ceased.
So let's get right to the logistics. After we
Spencer smiled graciously and listened. He's like that.
I started to mention the beach in Muskegon, it's one of Melissa's favorite places, when Mark kicked me under the figurative "let the boy talk table" and did the universal sign for shut the front door.
You could tell he'd been mulling this over for awhile (Spencer, not Mark). And so it went something like this:
The whole family decided to come to the farm for a little bit of "family time" with a Max & Lilly birthday party, as the decoy.
Spencer would beg off with an overwhelmed-at-work excuse, which was totally not a lie. Then the planning began.
I can't even imagine the scurrying that took place on Spencer's side of the family, but know this, the mother and sister of the groom, may have missed their calling. They are party planners extraordinaire, and had only Melissa and Spencer in their thoughts as they pulled curtains from their house, glued buttons on mason jars while in their pajamas, practically furnished the birthday party brunch, packed the car to the gills including the unused awning, and brought crates full of generosity.
The family of the groom arrived and proceeded on their walk about of the farm where Melissa played as a young girl. They embraced the wedding tool shed and saw the places they'd only heard about in stories, from their long time family friends; Melissa's Uncle Ron and Aunt Ardy.
The defining moment came while in the barn bay underneath a row of scruffy old wooden ladders. Even though a look-a-like picture is posted on Melissa's pinterest board as a wedding idea, this would be the spot where her Spencer would propose.
And so with joy and awesome weather, the transformation began. Load out, load in. Hang and drape. Sweep and sway. Sisters and kittens. Lofty and lovely. And with only minutes to spare, as the wind picked and the cold front marched in, the texts came from the brother of the bride ... "We have the package"... "We've stopped for a baby break"... "On the road again"... "30 minutes away"... "10" ... "5" ....
Light the candles, places everyone.
We made Jen the spokesperson for getting Melissa to the barn, "Hey, Melissa, come see what we mocked up for the wedding, down in the barn."
Melissa, "You guys know there's a winter tornado brewing out there, right?"
Me, "Yeah, here's a scarf and some mittens, you gotta see this." (I didn't want her to be cold, Spencer had 30-45 minutes of material)
We braced the wind and escorted her across the empty driveway, opened the barn door, shoved her in, closed the barn door, and peaked through the cracks (only for a minute, c'mon.)
The sign for all of us to head down to the proposal site and melt Melissa into a puddle of tears, for the 2nd time that night, would be when Spencer opened the barn door.
Without spoiling their version, I can't really tell the whole story without a bit of conversation from those 45 minutes while 15 pairs of eyes watched and waited from the two houses.
Melissa, as she turned around to see where Jen and I had gone and noticed Spencer in the corner, "What are you doing here?"
Spencer, while embracing her and waiting for her avalanche of reality to hit, "What do you think I'm doing here?"
They talked, they prayed, they cried, and they had their own little dance party. Melissa was overwhelmed with it all. Then
Even though she said it felt like she was in a movie, she embraced the moment(s), wrote all 45 of them on her heart and said yes.
As 3 cats and a kitten skitted about and pawed at the decorations while we borrowed their living room, the overjoyed bride-and-groom-to-be, 3 grandparents, 4 parents, 7 siblings, 1 aunt, and 2 babies, joined hands and asked God to bless the marriage and the blending of families. Then we partied in the big house with Pizza King, continuing the celebrattion with a toast to the happy couple. Eat, drink, and be married.
Signed, sealed, delivered ...
I'm yours.
3/19/12
Overjoyed
Stories to tell ...
And I will tell them, soon.
Happy Birthday today to our first grandaughter ~ Lilly
And on Friday to our first grandson ~ Max
3/7/12
My Top Ten List
In order of appearance:
#1. Mark
#2. Julee
#3. Ben
#4. Jennifer
#5. Melissa
#6. Annie
#7. Tony
#8. Lilly
#9. Max
And introducing #10: Spencer
Romantic and nostalgic story to follow.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
2/26/12
1, 2, 3, Let's Go
Grandma and Grandpa are getting ready for you to come visit!
We've ordered cupcakes, and bought polka-dot material for a girl/boyish tablecloth/backdrop.
I'm making a paper chain and a banner out of old Bible story books I found at an antique store, which are too musty to read from.
We're going to fix a Saturday morning brunch (followed closely by a photoshoot) to celebrate your birthday's. It's a little early, but your parents will throw the "real" parties closer to the 19th & 23rd.
Great grandma Thelma & Great grandpa Lloyd will be home to help us celebrate, too! I'm gonna get all the camera stuff ready and make sure I've picked out just the right spots to capture the day on film (which means on the digital camera, jump-drive, hard drive, etc.)
Did you know we used to take pictures on 35mm film? After shooting 24 or 36 frames (with only seeing what we actually saw in the viewfinder) we'd press the camera unwind button--and a little lever popped up so we'd wind the film back into the canister, open the back of the camera, take out the canister, drive to the nearest camera shop or put it in a 'Skrudland' envelope, pay upwards of $10 and wait 2 to 3 weeks before getting the developed film back as paper photographs. If we were lucky we got around 10 or 12 good pictures from one roll of film. Since you're not into math yet, that's about $1 per photograph.
Thank goodness for the digital age, because I have about 3, 495 pictures of the two of you already.
Anyway, I just wanted you to know that we're getting ready for you to visit. We're cleaning the floors, so you won't have dirty knees. We're thinking of ways to keep you from climbing on the hearth and up the stairs. We're getting age appropriate toys out. We're practicing up on our grandparent giddiness.
You probably won't sit still to listen, this year, but I wanted to tell you that the end of March will always hold special memories for me. Max, you've probably already forgotten, but you were supposed to arrive on the scene first. And, since a girl likes to have her mom around for times like this, I'll always be thankful for the support Grandma Martha gave when you, Lilly, decided to come around first. I felt buoyed by her strength and encouraged with the wisdom she imparted to me, after I first arrived to meet you.
And then came you, Max, through the Michigan snowstorm, and into the little hospital in a small town called Big Rapids.
I've never prayed so hard in all my life as the text messages across those 4 days, at times, came in what seemed like weeks instead of hours apart.
And, I'll never forget seeing the dads motion me and Aunt Lissa, into those rooms and introduced us to you, as your momma's beamed.
Your parents prepared, and prepared for your arrival. Your mom's were awesome and dad's were troopers, but God prepared for you to enter this world long before he even brought you parents together.
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart," Jeremiah 1:5
"For you did form my indward parts: You did knit me together in my mother's womb I will praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made." Psalm 139:13 & 14
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart," Jeremiah 1:5
"For you did form my indward parts: You did knit me together in my mother's womb I will praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made." Psalm 139:13 & 14
It's always good to prepare, don't worry about it quite yet, because your parents will help prepare your hearts to learn more about God. But I just finished attending a conference where the teacher explained about the Shunemite woman in the bible that prepared a place for the Old Testament prophet Elisha (who, in the New Testament, is mentioned as prototype of Jesus). She had her husband cut a hole in the wall and add an extra bed, table, chair, and candlelight so when the prophet came to town she could offer him a place to rest. She prepared to receive the prophet. She didn't run all over town and worry about unimportant things. She was content. She determined in her heart to make a place for Elisha, to give of herself for others. It's always good to prepare a place for Holy One to rest in our hearts. 2 Kings 4:8-37
I guess that's enough for today, but I wanted to let you know a few things you can do to prepare to visit us. You can get ready to be hugged and bragged over. You can expect lotsa love and attention. If you wake up early, tell your parents to text us, and we'll hang out with you until a reasonable waking hour. You can get ready to be kissed and squeezed in real time, enough of this virtual grand parenting.
2/17/12
Task At Hand
After vowing to give up political jibberish as one of my New Year's Resolutions, I posted this status update this morning, mind you it's only February 17. Fail.
"Politics are not the task of the believer. ~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Whether the quote is true or not doesn't it beg the question, "What is the task of the believer?" 72 comments, an afternoon visitor, 2 pots of coffee and a 1/2 bottle of wine later I've come to believe that some did not understand what I meant.
Let me be clear---politics, nor a myriad of other distractions, should not be the main task of the believer. Does that make sense?
Still begs the question, What is the task of the believer?
So I circle around, yet again and hunker down to do the works of my Father. No more excuses, no discussion or distractions. And I promise, no more political talk. May have to drive up to MI for the primary, though.
As hard as I search the Word, I don't see much about politics. Render unto Ceasar's what is Ceasars... is about it.
Besides the Top Ten, there aren't a whole lot of commands/tasks in the Bible. But when you do get to the biggies in the New Testament they come with authority and have the high price of Jesus suffering attached.
I ask myself yet again, WDIMWIS. (What Does It Mean When It Says) The answer comes back loud and clear.
1. James 1:27 Religion that God the Father accepts as pure and without fault is this: caring for orphans or widows who need help, and keeping yourself free from the world's evil influence.
2. Mark 12:30, 31 Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength The second command is this: 'Love your neighbor as you love yourself. There are no commands more important than these.
3. Matthew 28:16-20 Then Jesus came to them and said, "All power in heaven and on earth is given to me. So go and make followers of all people in the world. Baptize them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Teach them to obey everything that I have taught you, and I will be with you always, even until the end of this age.
4. 1 Thessalonians 5:14-22 Live in peace with each other. We ask you, brothers and sisters, to warn those who do not work. Encourage the people who are afraid. Help those who are weak. Be patient with everyone. Be sure that no one pays back wrong for wrong, but always try to do what is good for each other and for all people.
Always be joyful. Pray continually, and give thanks whatever happens. That is what God wants for you in Christ Jesus.
Do not hold back the work of the Holy Spirit. Do not treat prophecy as if it were unimportant. But test everything. Keep what is good, and stay away from everything that is evil.
These then, are the tasks of the believers.
Have a great week-end, Love ya Nic!
Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom, teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord. Colossians 3:16
PS We saw a pair of robins today!
2/15/12
Country Mouse, Here
I really don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Do you?
Lately, well, since 2003, I've really wanted to become a writer. So I've been scratching around in the archives for pieces to submit. Not that it was lost, but I found an article I wrote called "Lost And Found." It's pretty self-centered but while rereading it, I came to understand that God made each one of us with a heart for Him and no two personalites or look-a-likes. How absolutely cool is that? When this life is over, we're even gonna get a white stone with our name on it and no one will understand the name except the one receiving it.*
Our creator is so creative.
I've heard that to be a writer, you have to write. Here at Julee's Journal, or Grey Barn Farm Journal, or whatever I feel like calling it, most of the writing is about life. My life. It's a dichotomy for me, because I feel like the only way to walk in this life is to get your mind off of self and onto others. But to keep this thing updated, I must talk about myself. So therein lies my angst. Yadda, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blog.
We (the Mr., Grover, Uncle Mark) recently spent a Super week-end with my niece and her husband. We had such a grand time, we didn't even think to take a picture. So here's one from their wedding this summer. I tell you, they're still on the honeymoon!
We cooked each other scrumptous meals, we laughed, we cried, we played multiple rounds of monopoly deal, we slept in, we walked their dog, we hunkered down, and we left our shoes by the door, all because that is what families do.
This house, where we watched Chelsea; play with our daughters, the baby kittens, open Christmas gifts and repeated swimming pool escapades. This land where we took them on walks in strollers, laid pennies on the railroad tracks, and ordered Pizza King too many times to mention, These walls echoed once again with family laughter and medicine. This family room which used to be strewn with legos, madame alexander dolls, and marbles, remained virtually clean while we scooted our chairs together to watch the big game and offered up prayers of celebration for Chelsea's soulmate and our nephew Derek #35 along with another great-niece baby K #40 in the extended family line-up.
A week-end we won't soon forget.
And then it was off to the city for some serious shopping, a much needed break, and Francis Chan fuel forthe fire. The train into the city was my first ride on Amtrak. I KNOW ... can you believe it? Crossing the country on that sucker went straight to the top of my bucket list. One daughter met me at the 3-sided 4-season train station along side the tracks, another rode the rails from MI and met up within 20 minutes of our train, looking all grown-up and sophisticated. (the first of many times, I shed a few tears during our stay) Then we hiked it down to my sister's friends condo, it only sleeps 4 and 1/2 but it's on MI ave, for crying outloud. There we met up with my sisters, their aunts. The whole thing orchestrated perfectly, with timed and divine appointments, quickly arranged meetings with a brother/Uncle, and son/nephew. More than one surprise encounter with HS/Chicago/SH friends and daughter/cousin/niece with her 4 grandkids/great neices and nephews.
It was a 3 and 1/2 day soul bender, with a side of mission accomplished. I highly recommend another one, soon.
You in?
And I figured out what I wanna be when I grow up. Me.
“I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it.” – Revelation 2:17
*The White Stone
Lately, well, since 2003, I've really wanted to become a writer. So I've been scratching around in the archives for pieces to submit. Not that it was lost, but I found an article I wrote called "Lost And Found." It's pretty self-centered but while rereading it, I came to understand that God made each one of us with a heart for Him and no two personalites or look-a-likes. How absolutely cool is that? When this life is over, we're even gonna get a white stone with our name on it and no one will understand the name except the one receiving it.*
Our creator is so creative.
I've heard that to be a writer, you have to write. Here at Julee's Journal, or Grey Barn Farm Journal, or whatever I feel like calling it, most of the writing is about life. My life. It's a dichotomy for me, because I feel like the only way to walk in this life is to get your mind off of self and onto others. But to keep this thing updated, I must talk about myself. So therein lies my angst. Yadda, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blog.
We (the Mr., Grover, Uncle Mark) recently spent a Super week-end with my niece and her husband. We had such a grand time, we didn't even think to take a picture. So here's one from their wedding this summer. I tell you, they're still on the honeymoon!
We cooked each other scrumptous meals, we laughed, we cried, we played multiple rounds of monopoly deal, we slept in, we walked their dog, we hunkered down, and we left our shoes by the door, all because that is what families do.
This house, where we watched Chelsea; play with our daughters, the baby kittens, open Christmas gifts and repeated swimming pool escapades. This land where we took them on walks in strollers, laid pennies on the railroad tracks, and ordered Pizza King too many times to mention, These walls echoed once again with family laughter and medicine. This family room which used to be strewn with legos, madame alexander dolls, and marbles, remained virtually clean while we scooted our chairs together to watch the big game and offered up prayers of celebration for Chelsea's soulmate and our nephew Derek #35 along with another great-niece baby K #40 in the extended family line-up.
A week-end we won't soon forget.
And then it was off to the city for some serious shopping, a much needed break, and Francis Chan fuel forthe fire. The train into the city was my first ride on Amtrak. I KNOW ... can you believe it? Crossing the country on that sucker went straight to the top of my bucket list. One daughter met me at the 3-sided 4-season train station along side the tracks, another rode the rails from MI and met up within 20 minutes of our train, looking all grown-up and sophisticated. (the first of many times, I shed a few tears during our stay) Then we hiked it down to my sister's friends condo, it only sleeps 4 and 1/2 but it's on MI ave, for crying outloud. There we met up with my sisters, their aunts. The whole thing orchestrated perfectly, with timed and divine appointments, quickly arranged meetings with a brother/Uncle, and son/nephew. More than one surprise encounter with HS/Chicago/SH friends and daughter/cousin/niece with her 4 grandkids/great neices and nephews.
It was a 3 and 1/2 day soul bender, with a side of mission accomplished. I highly recommend another one, soon.
You in?
And I figured out what I wanna be when I grow up. Me.
“I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it.” – Revelation 2:17
*The White Stone
2/12/12
Roots & Wings
My sisters and I spent 3 days in Chicago, converging on the city to hear Francis Chan (Crazy Love, Forgotton God) at the historic Moody Memorial Church. Ephesians 3 tells the spiritual story of our time together, but check back to get the physical, emotional, and maybe the "mental" play by play of our reunion.
For this reason I bow my knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, from whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named,
that He would grant you,
according to the riches of His glory,
to be strengthened with might through His Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith;
that you, being rooted and grounded in love,
may be able to comprehend with all the saints
what is the width and length and depth and height
to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge;
that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
that He would grant you,
according to the riches of His glory,
to be strengthened with might through His Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith;
that you, being rooted and grounded in love,
may be able to comprehend with all the saints
what is the width and length and depth and height
to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge;
that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
Have a blessed Sunday and a Happy Valentine's Day.
2/3/12
Super Power
As I stumble my way downstairs early this morning and stare out the kitchen window ... something is missing. Even if daylight hasn't broken, from this window I can see the lights of the town, the interstate, and the bustle of morning traffic down at the seed company corner. But this morning I see nothing. Total blackness.
Fog has fallen, in the night. Like a down quilt fluffed and then flopped down on the bed, the fog floats across the farm. Like a weighty theatre curtain drawn between acts, it surrounds me on my private acre stage.
As I begin to peruse the internet, I see the fog has curtained most of NW Indiana and I think about the millions of people descending on Indianapolis for Superbowl XLVI. I want to haul out the Canon and head out to take some morning photographs, but one other facebook article catches my eye.
How did we get to this place?
How can this happen in our heartland?
This country where 80% claim to be christian?
Then I got to wondering how many believers will be in and around the Indy area this week-end. And I had another of my WDIMWIS (What Does It Mean When It Says) moments?
Matthew 18:18-20 “Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them."
And so I pray against this evil phenomon. I pray this stronghold will be broken all over the Indianapolis area. I pray the Holy Spirit will move and fall over this city like a flood light penetrates the players. I pray that orchestrators of this evil will become confused and disoriented because of their lack of power to plan and make connections. I pray for a hedge of protection around possible victims. We, just like Tim Tebow, are on our knees, God, praying for Indianapolis.
And because of the above scripture I also pray for believers to be bold and share the gospel with everyone in their super bowl bubble. I pray the peace of God shines on their faces and the holy spirit fills them with love, joy, peace, and kindness, and moves people into random acts of compassion. I pray that a spirit of revival will start to build and roll in like this morning's fog, and the light and fire from heaven will descend, chasing away the heavy darkness, on this city, in the heart of America.
Amen
1/29/12
Year-In-Review
From "Because I'm The Mom Productions"
and without further adieu ...
Our Year-In-Review 2011
Ready Yourselves
Higher quality viewing at Julee Ann's Vimeo
Outtakes available upon request.
1/28/12
Defragging
For the better part of January, which is the better part of gone, I've been purging.
No, not the master cleanse, or the detox diet, but more like hoarders anonymous for the laptop.
To give credit where credit is due, I thank Apple for pulling their (my) iWeb and my (their) Mobile me gallery. You see, while everyone else was connecting and commenting and building their blog base through social media, I stayed true to my little 'ole easy to use website.
It's like I wrote, illustrated (with photos) and published my own storybook from 2003 - until June of 2012.
But now it's time to move on, and I do so with no regrets. Time for another chapter. Turn the page. Head out on the highway to clear my head and Macbook. Seriously it's time to purge because of years of internet bingeing. If pinterest was food, I'd be a sumo wrestler.
It's so very embarrassing and exhilarating. Last night, while Skyping with my friend Kate, I tried to find a photo I wanted to share with her. It was hopeless, not to mention the fact that Ido not can't multitask. Try finding a photo amongst scads and scads of archived folders, events, scans, tiffs, and jpegs, all while balancing your laptop and a glass of wine.
Today, I'm still rifling through and trying to put finishing touches on the Year-In-Review, with apologies to my loyal followers for the delay, but by the end of the week-end, your and my wait will be over.
Side-note: So glad a true friend doesn't delete you when you neglect to send condolences, and time and distance prohibit a non virtual get-together, Ring me up, Scotty.
And so my detoxification process continues.
day before yesterday = my desktop, gossip, and ungratefulness
yesterday = iPhoto (you may question why I couldn't find said photo last night, and so do I)
today = safari bookmarks and bitterness
tomorrow = e-mails and american idol's preliminary auditions
the next day = pinterest boards, worry, and facebook subscriptions (did you know you can unsubscribe from certain fb status updates?)
sunday evening = Year-In-Review Movie and a lighter, happier me.
Cut-off.
Gone like yesterday.
Boom
Deleted
Free.
Pruned.
So I got to thinking about purging and pruning. Unlike the years with an iWeb journal, I haven't named 2012 yet, but thanks to blogger I have a new mantra/blog category entitled "What Does It Mean, When It Says ...?" which I'll refer henceforth as WDIMWIS.
WDIMWIS ...
"Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.
“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned." John 15:4-6
No, not the master cleanse, or the detox diet, but more like hoarders anonymous for the laptop.
To give credit where credit is due, I thank Apple for pulling their (my) iWeb and my (their) Mobile me gallery. You see, while everyone else was connecting and commenting and building their blog base through social media, I stayed true to my little 'ole easy to use website.
It's like I wrote, illustrated (with photos) and published my own storybook from 2003 - until June of 2012.
But now it's time to move on, and I do so with no regrets. Time for another chapter. Turn the page. Head out on the highway to clear my head and Macbook. Seriously it's time to purge because of years of internet bingeing. If pinterest was food, I'd be a sumo wrestler.
It's so very embarrassing and exhilarating. Last night, while Skyping with my friend Kate, I tried to find a photo I wanted to share with her. It was hopeless, not to mention the fact that I
Today, I'm still rifling through and trying to put finishing touches on the Year-In-Review, with apologies to my loyal followers for the delay, but by the end of the week-end, your and my wait will be over.
Side-note: So glad a true friend doesn't delete you when you neglect to send condolences, and time and distance prohibit a non virtual get-together, Ring me up, Scotty.
And so my detoxification process continues.
day before yesterday = my desktop, gossip, and ungratefulness
yesterday = iPhoto (you may question why I couldn't find said photo last night, and so do I)
today = safari bookmarks and bitterness
tomorrow = e-mails and american idol's preliminary auditions
the next day = pinterest boards, worry, and facebook subscriptions (did you know you can unsubscribe from certain fb status updates?)
sunday evening = Year-In-Review Movie and a lighter, happier me.
Cut-off.
Gone like yesterday.
Boom
Deleted
Free.
Pruned.
So I got to thinking about purging and pruning. Unlike the years with an iWeb journal, I haven't named 2012 yet, but thanks to blogger I have a new mantra/blog category entitled "What Does It Mean, When It Says ...?" which I'll refer henceforth as WDIMWIS.
WDIMWIS ...
"Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.
“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned." John 15:4-6
1/27/12
Election Results
I could argue my view until the cows come home to the grey barn farm, (like for example, doesn't it point to a flawed IRS system, as opposed to a "republican fiasco" when millionaires don't pay their fair share in taxes?)
It is what it is.
But, is it what the blue states say it is? Or is it what the red states say it is? Is it what rebublicans say it is? Or is it what democrats say it is? Is it what Jake says it is? Or is it what Julee says it is? Is it what Newt or Mitt says it is? Is it what the president says it is, or is it what congress says it is? Now this verse is taken horribly out of context, but yet ridicoulously spot on, no?
But, is it what the blue states say it is? Or is it what the red states say it is? Is it what rebublicans say it is? Or is it what democrats say it is? Is it what Jake says it is? Or is it what Julee says it is? Is it what Newt or Mitt says it is? Is it what the president says it is, or is it what congress says it is? Now this verse is taken horribly out of context, but yet ridicoulously spot on, no?
People will grab something on the right, but they will still be hungry. They will eat something on the left, but they will not be filled. Isaiah 9:20
I heard a sermon at Melissa and Spencer's church entitled "It is what it is. Or is it what God says it is. By Angela Hughes at The Point
So in the spirit of the intro to the Steven Curtis Chapman's "Heaven In The Real World" song I give you my one and only 2012 post on politics.
"Where is the hope? I meet millions of people who feel demoralized by the decay around us. The hope that each of us has is not in who governs us, or what laws we pass, or what great things we do as a nation. Our hope is in the power of God working through the hearts of people. And that's where our hope is in this country. And that's where our hope is in this life." ~ Chuck Colson
So vote responsibly, vote early and vote often, but don't argue politics, people, tell everone what he has done and how great he is!
That's all she wrote folks. Selah.
At that time you will say:
"I praise you, Lord!
You were angry with me,
but you are not angry with me now!
You have comforted me.
God is the one who saves me;
I will trust him and not be afraid.
The Lord, the Lord gives me strength and makes me sing.
He has saved me."
You will receive your salvation with joy
as you would draw water from a well.
At that time you will say,
"Praise the Lord and worship him.
Tell everyone what he has done
and how great he is.
Sing praise to the Lord, because he has done great things.
Let all the world know what he has done.
Shout and sing for joy, you people of Jerusalem,
because the Holy One of Israel does great things before your eyes.
Isaiah 13
1/23/12
Exchange Rate
I get a cold and rainy January day, you get yet another blog post.
“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”
― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
Sometimes I tune into the TV show Extreme Makeover. The looks on their faces right after they start to move the bus is enough to get me to stay tuned in until they've televised and traversed through every inch of the new house.
My dad is a king, and since I'm his daughter I live in the palace.
My father, the king, is good and kind, all the time. When I walk through the halls, I feel warm and safe. I feel like a princess. He is forever trying to get the point across to me that I am worthy of his love. He imparts faith to me on a daily basis. He tells me how great I am. He prepares feasts and is constanlty remodeling my rooms. He doesn't let me believe the lies and He longs for me to sit down by the fireside and learn of his ways and worship him.
My father the king, hosts an extreme makeover every day.
His exchange program, is the likes of which I can't even begin to understand or fathom. He takes my garbage and leaves me a banquet. He wants to exchange my fear for faith. He wants to take my sickness and give me health. He wants my messed up check-book for financial freedom. He wants my lonliness in exchange for a relationship. He takes the curse and gives the blessings. He offers joy for sadness and peace for worry.
My father, the king, has new surprises for me every morning. The price has been paid. He bought me over 2000 years ago. He cared and loved me enough to send his son to take the punishment for me. What can I do, but follow his lead and put on the robes of kindness, gentleness, love, faith, mercy and grace. I must not walk around with my head down. I refuse to mope or complain. I won't worry or whine. I can't, because my father, the king, has adopted me into his family. I'm the daughter of a King. I live in a palace.
Without fail, and absolutely WHENEVER I see a picture of Prince William and Princess Catherine, I think royalty! They dress like Royals, they act like Royals, they smile like Royals, and they even wave like Royalty.
So excuse me if I sound like a princess, but it's time to start living like royalty.
“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”
― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
Sometimes I tune into the TV show Extreme Makeover. The looks on their faces right after they start to move the bus is enough to get me to stay tuned in until they've televised and traversed through every inch of the new house.
My dad is a king, and since I'm his daughter I live in the palace.
My father, the king, is good and kind, all the time. When I walk through the halls, I feel warm and safe. I feel like a princess. He is forever trying to get the point across to me that I am worthy of his love. He imparts faith to me on a daily basis. He tells me how great I am. He prepares feasts and is constanlty remodeling my rooms. He doesn't let me believe the lies and He longs for me to sit down by the fireside and learn of his ways and worship him.
My father the king, hosts an extreme makeover every day.
His exchange program, is the likes of which I can't even begin to understand or fathom. He takes my garbage and leaves me a banquet. He wants to exchange my fear for faith. He wants to take my sickness and give me health. He wants my messed up check-book for financial freedom. He wants my lonliness in exchange for a relationship. He takes the curse and gives the blessings. He offers joy for sadness and peace for worry.
My father, the king, has new surprises for me every morning. The price has been paid. He bought me over 2000 years ago. He cared and loved me enough to send his son to take the punishment for me. What can I do, but follow his lead and put on the robes of kindness, gentleness, love, faith, mercy and grace. I must not walk around with my head down. I refuse to mope or complain. I won't worry or whine. I can't, because my father, the king, has adopted me into his family. I'm the daughter of a King. I live in a palace.
Without fail, and absolutely WHENEVER I see a picture of Prince William and Princess Catherine, I think royalty! They dress like Royals, they act like Royals, they smile like Royals, and they even wave like Royalty.
So excuse me if I sound like a princess, but it's time to start living like royalty.
But You, O LORD, are a shield for me,
My glory and the lifter of my head. Psalm 3:3
Lift up your heads, you gates;
lift them up, you ancient doors,
that the King of glory may come in.
Who is this King of glory?
The LORD Almighty—
he is the King of glory. Psalm 24:7-10
1/21/12
Show & Tell
The lightening struck and the thunder rolled. I felt the car sway all over the road, thanks to the Wizard Of Oz type winds. My mom was driving and as you’ve probably figured out she didn’t have a cell phone and we probably weren’t in seat belts.
Because of the curve, I knew we weren’t far from home and so my fears churned low in my stomach, paying enough attention to be called up with a whimper.
I trusted my mom to get us home. Scary, strong, Indiana storms, the kind that turn day to night and carry freight train like noises, were not on my radar. Yet.
“Huh oh!” isn’t a comforting phrase to hear when you’re little and strobes of lightening reveal corn laying over on it’s side in the field, out your car window. The next flash lit up my mom’s worried face, as we slowed to a stop. We had run out of gas. I was getting ready to call the fear troops up to active duty, when I heard my mom, quietly and calmly pray… “Dear God, please send someone along to take us home.”
A couple of minutes passed, plenty of time for my stomach and the storm to go into overdrive, until a neighbor pulled alongside, and as we jumped from our lifeless station wagon into his welcoming car, we hardly got wet.
In November of 2011, while sitting in great grandma & grandpa’s Florida trailer, my dad told me of another miracle of God, stepping into our lives and claiming, “I love you, you’re mine, fear not.”
After finishing the compelling Christopher Yaun book titled, “Out Of The Far Off Country” my dad, your great-grandpa Lloyd, experienced no Parkinson's symptoms for about 3 minutes. He relayed it this way,
“After weeping about the events and circumstances in this true story, I jumped up off the porch sofa, and moved about the whole trailer with no weakness, no shaking, and no steadying myself to walk. I felt like I was eighteen.” Funny man, Grandpa Grover, asked him why he didn't go shoot some hoops.
I don’t know how old you’ll be when you read this and understand but this letter will forever be a reminder of the power of prayer, miracles, and encounters with God in this earthly life.
Many years, prayers, stories, and miracles (they’re not all mine to tell) have passed between these signs and wonders from God. But these two; one miracle being forever remembered as a great sum of faith deposited into in my childhood memory bank. The other, keenly reminding me of a Father who never leaves us or forsakes us and wants to bless, heal, show mercy and favor. Oh how he loves you and me, that he would reach down and whisper supernaturally, "I am with you always!"
I tell you these stories so you will remember the mighty hand of God is powerful to save. I lay these words on the altar of sacrifice to the one true God. I also tell you to keep myself accountable. There may be big faith gaps in my stories, and there are other stories to be sure, but let these serve as a memorial between the two of you.
In the future, when your children ask you, ‘What do these words mean?’ tell them, “For a while, just as the Israelites of the bible, my Grandma’s pride took over and she strayed off course. She wrote these letters to us as the accounts of her road home.”
Let these words remind you: Your God and the God of the Bible, stands ready and waiting to do what he said he would do. Call on Him and he will show you things you haven’t even dreamed of.
My prayer for you, my dear grandchildren, is that you will have a long list of 3-minute miracles and may you see and experience even greater signs and wonders.
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