tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46865100245176487612024-03-13T02:07:18.164-07:00his eye is on the sparrowminnesota mama relying on grace that is renewed every morning... finding great comfort in He who watches over me.sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.comBlogger95125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-62558665149493268212017-09-06T15:19:00.003-07:002017-09-06T15:19:58.965-07:00Another new chapter... what else is new?I feel like so many of my blog posts have been about new seasons.<br />
And SURPRISE SIERRA IS ENTERING A NEW SEASON. Yes. again.<br />
Life is ever changing and these child rearing years have been rough on me at times. Well most of the time. But. With suffering, hurt, pain, sacrifice, and discomfort comes beauty and a greater knowledge of God's love for me.<br />
This past year and a half I have learned more than EVER that this is just a fallen world that we live in. Life is never going to be perfect. Not when we make more money, or when the house renovations get finished, not when the kids are all in school (OMG THIS WILL BE ME TOMORROW THOUGH) and certainly not when we get our lives together. Life will always be messy. Always. And Jesus is with me in it. My rest, my comfort, my hope, my identity, my future... is in Him. He is the same yesterday, today and always (Hebrews 13:8 thank you Uncle Norm for this constant reminder through out my whole life.) So when all that I need is found in Him, I will not be disappointed.<br />
Then it lessens the load on my husband, my kids, my friends, and all whom I love.<br />
K. Needed to get that out. Mostly as a reminder to myself.<br />
<br />
So, Hi. It's been a long long while. Like I said, it's been rough for a while, and now I feel like I am coming up for breath with more strength, maturity, beauty and grace. And not just because all my babes will be in school, although that helps.<br />
<br />
So what do I do now? Maybe I will start to plan dinners better, maybe I will have a clean house and stay caught up with laundry. Maybe I will blog more or create things again. Maybe I will find a part time job... I'm not quite sure yet. I'm not in a super big rush yet.<br />
<br />
One thing that I am SO EXCITED about and that I prayed and prayed for: I got a camera.<br />
It's a nice one. I don't really know how to use it very well yet, but I'm so excited. I love taking pictures of people and I have been so inspired by photos from [Humans of New York] photographer Brandon Stanton and the mysterious Vivian Maier. I love how they capture people's personalities and emotions. Their pictures bring me to tears.<br />
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Remember back when I did a series of blog posts about mamas a few years back? I love people. I love their stories and I love taking their pictures. So. Who knows where this will take me. For now I get to have a little hobby and I'll see where it takes me.<br />
Here are a few pics I've taken:<br />
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Maybe another thing I should look into is how to have a better blog set up. Blogger is all I know and I feel like it's looking a little rough. Hm... maybe it's time to learn all that jazz and start up a new one.<br />
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K well thanks for checking in. Hopefully I'll be back soon.<br />
xo<br />
<br />
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<br />sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-79762742224264211802015-07-23T20:55:00.000-07:002015-07-23T21:00:00.130-07:00real community<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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This evening I feel like God put it on my heart to write about my house church.</div>
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In the past, whenever I had heard someone mention a house church, I imagined it was a few little families that were deciding to rebel against the church-in-a-building model. I imagined they just did little bible studies and kept to themselves since they felt like all the other churches were doing it wrong.<br />
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Then I met another cool churchy mama named Andrea from my neighborhood who mentioned her house church. She was really cool though. Like with tattoos. So I was interested and asked about what her house church was like. They did house church on Sunday evenings, like how other churches do their small group during the week. They were part of a network of house churches that met during the week under Twin Cities Church, and that all gathered on Sunday mornings for worship and a teaching at a community center on the West Side.<br />
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We were already attending a church, one we had grown up in for most of our lives (our families had been members forever and it's where Matthew and I met.) We were happy there and loved our church family but had been feeling like it was time to "leave and cleave" and find a church that <i>our </i>family would grow up in.<br />
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Andrea's house church sounded interesting so we began to attend on Sunday evenings. We felt led to join and become a part of the house church and began to get more involved. Then we decided to visit their Sunday morning service and felt a total peace there. Soon we contacted our pastor and told him that we had decided to leave and become attenders at Twin Cities Church (TCC). Our pastor was loving and understanding and gave his blessing as we made the decision to leave.<br />
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We have now been members at TCC for about a year and a half and have grown so much. Each and every message has been so good, so relevant, and easily applied to our life.<br />
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This fall marks two years with our house church and although our group has been through many ups and downs, lots of change and transition, we truly are a family (made up of about 12 adults and a gaggle of children) and I know that we are right where we are supposed to be. We do life together. We go through the messes and grow together. We hold each other accountable. We are committed to one another. We pray together, we worship together, we study God's word together. We even share a meal... which is awesome at the end of the week (we meet on Thursday nights now) when I am tired of making dinner.<br />
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This is real community. And we meet just blocks from our house. It's what my heart has been desiring for years.<br />
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Tonight we sang It Is Well (click <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YNqo4Un2uZI" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">here</span></a> to listen to it, it's beautiful) and as I looked around Andrea's living room I was overwhelmed with gratefulness for this group. This family.<br />
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Are you part of a community that loves you and cares for you? If not, get connected. Or come check out my church on Sunday morning at 10am. Come visit our Hamline Village house church on Thursday nights at 6pm. We gather in a living room after we eat a meal together. We study the bible, ask questions, do lots of processing. It's laid back. It's safe. We've all been through hard things, nothing surprises anyone in our group. We all have very diverse backgrounds and life experience. Come just as you are.<br />
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I'd be a hot mess without Jesus. #justsayin<br />
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xo<br />
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sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-57720942302213603892015-05-26T19:11:00.000-07:002015-05-26T20:05:48.294-07:00we haven't failed. sometimes there is just more...<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This year has been hard so far. But, it's what I asked for. I wanted to be gutted and restored. I had no idea what that was going to look like. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I think I thought that I was going to be really great at working out and taking better care of myself, and I think I thought I was going to have a simple and orderly change of heart over some issues and then it was all going to be resolved. And I think I thought it wouldn't really take that long. But we're on the cusp of summer time and I still have so far to go. Silly girl, Sierra.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I think that we are always hoping that "as soon as winter is over... as soon as I lose the weight... as soon as I finish this project... as soon as my husband and I learn to communicate better... as soon as my little one is a little older.... etc." that we will have arrived. And that will be it. But I'm continuing to learn that life is hard, timing never goes as we had planned, and things come up... hard things. Kids get sick. Weddings get canceled. Relationships drift apart (or come crashing down in an instant). Loved ones move away. Loved ones die. Sometimes it's even the fact that we don't have a dang dishwasher and the legos are seriously in every nook and cranny. Whatever it is, life gets over whelming. And before we know it we feel like we have failed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But we haven't failed. There was just more to learn. More to understand. More growth that needed to take place. More experiences that needed to be had. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So many amazing things have happened this year, and so much is on the horizon. As overwhelmed as I feel lately, I have hope that it's all for a reason, all for a purpose. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So hang in there. Take it one day at a time. Be thankful for the things that are still intact and ushering you forward. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">>>><<<</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My swears+prayers are often these days. My </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Jesus Take The Wheel hashtag is floating in the air above just about every moment with my kids lately. But</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I know God is listening and holding me near. I know that He delights in me and that as long as I cling to Him for comfort and direction, it's all going to be okay.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The other day, after <strike>"the worst day ever" (my children called it when we denied them nachos)</strike> some good old fashioned <b><i>family fun </i></b>at an indoor water park and playground, my husband turned to me, and with total confidence he promised "we are going to make it through this. We are not going to die." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I asked for a nice picture so that I could prove to them <br />
in the future that we DO do fun stuff sometimes. #Jesustakethewheel</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'm just gonna choose</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> to believe him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Onward y'all. </span><br />
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p.s. this is my 100th post!sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-88649514448838099182015-03-27T20:22:00.003-07:002015-03-27T21:26:41.068-07:00I will survive spring break [I'm just not sure how... yet]This raising boys thing is so dang hard lately. I think it's a combination of the weather being cold again, and the kids getting tired of school. We need summer to get here. Next week is spring break but I'm already scared. I have three boys to entertain for a week, and not a whole lot planned.<br />
<br />
This weekend Matt and I are enjoying our quarterly kids-free weekend that my mom and her husband give us. Once every season we drop the kids off on a Friday night and they get brought back to us Sunday afternoon. It's a time to reconcile, relax, rest, drink wine, eat out and enjoy some peace and quiet... and a clean house.<br />
<br />
After a seriously rough week, I dropped those boys off so fast but left with a heavy heart and a million thoughts racing through my mind... <i>I won't miss them. </i><i>I'm so glad I don't have to do bed time for the next two nights. </i><i>I'm so mean... no THEY are mean. Max is disrespectful. I'm tired of Gabriel's whining.... I'm tired of the constant mess... I'm a horrible mom! I'm not fun. I don't do enough. I don't bring them to do fun things. They are always bored. How the hell am I going to survive spring break next week?!? They ARE sweet, sometimes... I will miss them... but seriously how will I survive next week? </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I got home and one of my favorite friends and fellow boy-moms of three sent me a great link to an article by Jen Hatmaker. Read it <a href="http://community.today.com/parentingteam/post/what-would-my-mom-do-drink-tab-and-lock-us-outside" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;">here</span></a>. You'll be glad that you did. It reminded me that YES I WILL SURVIVE this parenting thing, and spring break. And maybe I should find some Tab.<br />
<br />
They will survive. I will survive. #Jesustakethewheel<br />
<br />
Here is how we have been surviving lately:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsJqkxg3vXN4_JS3R8NiZQGj38qM10tMsADw7Fpg7GjHphIik-dymajzebNKmvd6RvDsYnkOFD38PE6ueXRiJxf88KL4KU1UME4opqt60AKe_ntS0fhMTijJ_N4rjrId1VEA3qrvq6BBM6/s1600/961537_10101260460520802_1864130253_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsJqkxg3vXN4_JS3R8NiZQGj38qM10tMsADw7Fpg7GjHphIik-dymajzebNKmvd6RvDsYnkOFD38PE6ueXRiJxf88KL4KU1UME4opqt60AKe_ntS0fhMTijJ_N4rjrId1VEA3qrvq6BBM6/s1600/961537_10101260460520802_1864130253_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They discovered how to scale the hall walls. Great. This<br />
counts as magical childhood right?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnejViDexeRJw1x1RrO5xfJJ0Y2cXnD98kOs2zy_IOFS-mmJBsuzPhEb-MLYnWNzC4AGpMRkZZP34b4jOdxVqYtt571f5FochVp0invSfykeajnWcqVK5nxwVgjUGVvh-vgm69wdfSds9O/s1600/10965753_10101260460580682_1116430529_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnejViDexeRJw1x1RrO5xfJJ0Y2cXnD98kOs2zy_IOFS-mmJBsuzPhEb-MLYnWNzC4AGpMRkZZP34b4jOdxVqYtt571f5FochVp0invSfykeajnWcqVK5nxwVgjUGVvh-vgm69wdfSds9O/s1600/10965753_10101260460580682_1116430529_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eli is loving Big Hero 6 lately.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge6uQkFtju9gUYlJcpi_D3396I3M771XG-pIvLghEx79ChokcN91s1nUsXR7Tkv8Bjl0B5f3EefH0_Wkm_DwCNOSXYDNxNINm4f0hHl0gJQyGcZka_giqzg7Pk4wFbN0KVPOJN2GVVHROk/s1600/11079663_10101260460540762_910312220_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge6uQkFtju9gUYlJcpi_D3396I3M771XG-pIvLghEx79ChokcN91s1nUsXR7Tkv8Bjl0B5f3EefH0_Wkm_DwCNOSXYDNxNINm4f0hHl0gJQyGcZka_giqzg7Pk4wFbN0KVPOJN2GVVHROk/s1600/11079663_10101260460540762_910312220_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gabriel and his fashion sense: plaid, stripes and cowboy boots.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGmYIaMEujCzbVQvphN3vBwoGCr6IOVG4zaKoNqmFN-Bl1PZ-_g6zNi4qD5vKHPQIzsnViFzg0STjwJQpBYNSkeXeMB6xMf_gBJsNQgS1ZBHurAdVz4sW4ob1cu7HdmbRp47AT6Y5SV0l/s1600/11084559_10101260460560722_113819078_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGmYIaMEujCzbVQvphN3vBwoGCr6IOVG4zaKoNqmFN-Bl1PZ-_g6zNi4qD5vKHPQIzsnViFzg0STjwJQpBYNSkeXeMB6xMf_gBJsNQgS1ZBHurAdVz4sW4ob1cu7HdmbRp47AT6Y5SV0l/s1600/11084559_10101260460560722_113819078_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look who got glasses!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5lCgumYVv-eOLsWQ9rLxT3svH57qyoYjK0ApKfqFh8ijySV673WN7boVla4BFxqNVcsBhisBQPIPTpplZPaXokt63AQZrOGYpZAczDwSkh3Zr_XtA1aT0JuXKz7fjA2ZhEp8Uun96MPT/s1600/11092610_10101260460530782_344597021_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt5lCgumYVv-eOLsWQ9rLxT3svH57qyoYjK0ApKfqFh8ijySV673WN7boVla4BFxqNVcsBhisBQPIPTpplZPaXokt63AQZrOGYpZAczDwSkh3Zr_XtA1aT0JuXKz7fjA2ZhEp8Uun96MPT/s1600/11092610_10101260460530782_344597021_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not sure what this G.I. Joe is about to get into. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR4cjT5vRJ9cGOkMlyk49lLqQmOjBirBW7YB0UYoiNhmed8XzVLovMPhdszKvJ0ldaen3Y6Ql283tmzi4OapvbBpIVwHcTQPqxRerNGL9dg2445qRtYK_7UFtnkfFEaWsJQ7bTLX63HuwW/s1600/11096727_10101260460535772_2077526721_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR4cjT5vRJ9cGOkMlyk49lLqQmOjBirBW7YB0UYoiNhmed8XzVLovMPhdszKvJ0ldaen3Y6Ql283tmzi4OapvbBpIVwHcTQPqxRerNGL9dg2445qRtYK_7UFtnkfFEaWsJQ7bTLX63HuwW/s1600/11096727_10101260460535772_2077526721_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heck yes we celebrated Dairy Queen's 75th anniversary with free cones in 40 degree weather.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiCpIx80Y6FGAaDtsRClVL1xG5hOgwPxhnyWFbX-wI8pvrLAFdsmF5VHysw4pTBukWxwRNZRmZwkeSYdlSRZKxmAI8JRzGmOcHKvvMviP_vwcPDOz26cgVcKtx6Q4atXhf61JfHLs0IKs/s1600/10578021_10101260460510822_34129408_n+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiCpIx80Y6FGAaDtsRClVL1xG5hOgwPxhnyWFbX-wI8pvrLAFdsmF5VHysw4pTBukWxwRNZRmZwkeSYdlSRZKxmAI8JRzGmOcHKvvMviP_vwcPDOz26cgVcKtx6Q4atXhf61JfHLs0IKs/s1600/10578021_10101260460510822_34129408_n+(1).jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I had to throw this one in: All the Gaitan kids after grandpa Gil's funeral.<br />David and Sam are happy individuals, I swear.... <br /><strike>the ones they <i>were </i>smiling in I didn't look as cute in</strike><br />There just weren't any pictures with them smiling.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-51933537704774918082015-03-06T19:58:00.001-08:002015-03-06T19:58:30.377-08:00just EW.<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today started out really well.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got up, got kids ready for school, walked them to the bus stop. The sun was shining and I was encouraged that the day would go well.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got the gym for the third day in a row this week (after 2 1/2 weeks of not going. ew.)... then my two friends came over for breakfast and catching-up. It was a pretty sweet morning.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then I feel like it all fell a part. I had some work to get done on the computer and I let the boys dump out the bin of Playmobile stuff. I was desperate for a moment of productivity. When it was time to clean up, they panicked and lost their ish. Eli had an accident. And then Gabriel had an accident. And when Gabe has one accident, it means 3 more are to follow. Little dude has issues with pooping lately.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ew.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Vm9mo-8G76AxC2HBSXpGGHbmPL4STuihKDqQVB1bhyphenhyphen5YX9cZ4TbWpKpt-JLuRfHDj33VTR37UfcIcpAPCMlWV96pxkM3K4l0VxCh09mrXGsJDtOBtX2kPE-rnvdHKjoD9SNKyyi-C90t/s1600/4bfccd93b6cd759729fe55ef9eeadc7d%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Vm9mo-8G76AxC2HBSXpGGHbmPL4STuihKDqQVB1bhyphenhyphen5YX9cZ4TbWpKpt-JLuRfHDj33VTR37UfcIcpAPCMlWV96pxkM3K4l0VxCh09mrXGsJDtOBtX2kPE-rnvdHKjoD9SNKyyi-C90t/s1600/4bfccd93b6cd759729fe55ef9eeadc7d%5B1%5D.jpg" height="320" width="299" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then I found my blush painted on the wall. And the stool pushed up to my dresser (which means Gabriel was snooping through my stuff) and the list continues. just more ew.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then I started to panic about my homework for my Exodus group that I am in right now. Ya know, the group I was <i>so</i> excited to be a part of because I was <i>so</i> excited to be gutted and rebuilt this year?</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(if you are confused about all this talk of "gutting and rebuilding" read my last post <a href="http://sierramadres.blogspot.com/2015/01/major-renovations.html" target="_blank">here</a>)</span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">more ew.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Being gutted SUCKS. MY FAULTY WIRES ARE HANGING OUT ALL OVER THE PLACE AND I AM SPRINGING LEAKS FROM ALL OVER THE PLACE AND MY ROOF NEEDS REPAIR AND THERE IS MOLD AND TERMITES AND ON TOP OF THAT THERE ARE SQUATTERS LIVING IN MY BASEMENT AND IT'S A FREAKING MESS.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hate this. I wish I could go away for a month to do all of this work and inner healing. But I can't. Kids need me. Husband needs me. Life will not GIVE ME A BREAK and on top of it all, really amazing opportunities continue to arise. But I am being stretched in all directions. There is no time for rest. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I press on. And I apologize a lot to my kids and remind them that I make [lots] of mistakes but still love them like crazy. And I trust my husband will love me through this and give me lots of grace. And I count on my friends to understand this season of my life and support me. And I look to the good Lord to keep me from going insane and I believe in His promises over my life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I also listen to a lot of Taylor Swift. My friend Jocelyn and I joke that One Thousand Gifts and Taylor Swift are crucial to this season. #1000giftsandtswifts</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So there it is. My update on all this renovation stuff. just ew. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">p.s. my trip to California was AMAZING and I hope to make time to write about it here soon.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">p.p.s. my sweet grandpa died a few days after I returned from California. So last week we were in Chicago for the funeral. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">p.p.p.s. kids are finally asleep. I survived another day. Thank God. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">p.p.p.p.s. Gabriel only had two more accidents after that, not three. #Jesustakethewheel</span><br />
<br />sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-73570375599873542142015-01-26T14:37:00.000-08:002015-01-26T14:39:21.736-08:00major renovations<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lately Matt and I have been watching Property Brothers. And Rehab Addict, and all the home renovation shows. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I love houses. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I love house renovation shows. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I love dreaming about buying this huge house in our neighborhood someday when it's up for sale. It has three stories and is obviously owned by hoarders. I imagine that it would be an awesome fixer-upper. We would just need to rent 14 ginormous dumpsters to get rid of the ceiling high piles of boxes that are smashed against the blinds. The yard isn't super huge, and we'd need to build a double garage, but beside that, just some painting and TLC and that house would probably be amazing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvaomZf8mr-sum7JprR-U6q6NY2u8mGftHLH7bVPL0xqPmGtu8L_v8g9x7Z8-_rzDQSo3S8lp8D1nV2DBLVFxhltNtNCiIiVO15AEKXt2Jn-LVfztY6vkFAQMnHHqWRN_enOS5PIB6zgP5/s1600/37f7f11f8b585a5c4e409916436906a2%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvaomZf8mr-sum7JprR-U6q6NY2u8mGftHLH7bVPL0xqPmGtu8L_v8g9x7Z8-_rzDQSo3S8lp8D1nV2DBLVFxhltNtNCiIiVO15AEKXt2Jn-LVfztY6vkFAQMnHHqWRN_enOS5PIB6zgP5/s1600/37f7f11f8b585a5c4e409916436906a2%5B1%5D.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dear Property Brothers, please fix the hoarder house up for me. K thanks. <br />
Oh. And my price range is like 6-7. Hundred. Yeah thanks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Or not. Because if it's anything like the shows, chances are it's going to take a lot more than tearing down ugly wallpaper, painting, new Ikea cabinets and sanded floors to make that house into a functional home. The minute the linoleum comes up and those unnecessary walls come down, the worst comes to the surface. Water damage. Mold. Mice. Termites. Faulty electrical wires. The list continues. The gutting begins.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On the shows, when all the hidden damage comes to the surface, the owners are frantic, but hopeful, and they go through whatever it takes to fix it. They shed blood, sweat and tears (and MEGA BUCKS) to create their dream home. And at the end, they cry and smile and are amazed at what the finished product looks like. The home has been restored.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I'm in the same sort of process. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">But not with a house.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">>>><<< </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This year, what is being GUTTED and RESTORED is me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My body, mind, and spirit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's hard work man. Usually we work on one aspect at a time: our fitness, our marriage, our parenting, our own emotional health or spiritual life. Just one thing at a time. One.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Not me. And not by my own choice. As timing has it, I am in the midst of working on IT ALL.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am seeing a personal trainer once a week and am doing cardio and strength training 3 times a week. I'm on my fourth week of a <a href="http://whole30.com/" target="_blank">Whole30</a> so I am not eating grains, legumes, sugar or dairy and no alcohol. I'm taking vitamins and using doTERRA essential oils. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'm reading <a href="http://onethousandgifts.com/" target="_blank">One Thousand Gifts</a> by Ann Voskamp. Last year when all of my friends were reading it, I made fun of them. </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"OHHHH, that's so CUTE that you are finding joy in all the little things. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">GOOD. FOR. YOU.... </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'm not into that sorta thing.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> I'm waist high in diapers, dishes and swears and prayers.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> No thanks." </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was NOT in the place, I had NO desire to try to find joy in the trials. I just wanted to just SURVIVE. But now a year later, I find myself still waist high in those things, but with kids a little older. And trials looking a little different. And I am ready. When a friend posted on facebook that it was on super-sale on kindle, I went and purchased it. Best $2.99 I've spent this year. It's deep. It's not your typical Christian lady book, the kind where you can almost hear her southern belle accent and are told over and over <i>live, laugh, love </i>and <i>dance in the storm</i> and all that blah blah blah. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This book is real, and raw and brutiful (brutal+beautiful, thanks for inventing the word Glennon Melton). </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpk6IDUNNk58LklWtO0CVetxDCN4A1EtRomxa15JsV7SYriSByvu1-XAfY-wS39CVMnaYWGTxawQ_B85gsyaVcA0pIDnUKpMSQ2BAkqhLmJuxznNmLK41K34OXEKzycVoIijLGLmnOOQhV/s1600/b971a65d6a4e94fbd9e5341860ae130f%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpk6IDUNNk58LklWtO0CVetxDCN4A1EtRomxa15JsV7SYriSByvu1-XAfY-wS39CVMnaYWGTxawQ_B85gsyaVcA0pIDnUKpMSQ2BAkqhLmJuxznNmLK41K34OXEKzycVoIijLGLmnOOQhV/s1600/b971a65d6a4e94fbd9e5341860ae130f%5B1%5D.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">((<a href="http://momastery.com/blog/" target="_blank">source</a>))</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'm trying to teach my mind to find gratitude and joy. Yes, </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">in the little things</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">. It's hard. It's SO HARD. Thank you Jesus for legos: </span><strike style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">especially when I swear as I step on them</strike><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> that my boys build amazing things that their little minds dream up. God thank you for my big comfy couch that </span><strike style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">is pilling and broken in one spot</strike><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> I get to cuddle next to my boys on. Lord thank you for these </span><strike style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">dirty, sticky piled up</strike><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> beautiful dishes, each one that has served my husband dinner or my boys their cereal. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">See? I'm working on it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Oh. This one. This one is hard. I love Jesus and silly me, that's not where I get to stop when it comes to my spiritual life. God Loves me right where I am, but He desires more for me. He wants healing and restoration. And that process is never cute. It's ugly. SO ugly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I just started a group with my church called Exodus Group. The last two weeks were spent on each of us sharing our life story. In under ten minutes. That was tough, because the gutting process began. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So many emotions. Gut-wrenching emotions. It's a nine week course I think, so we are just at the beginning, but I am hopeful. I know it's time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's going to affect my marriage, my children, and my relationships in major ways.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">God sees amazing potential in me, so He is taking me on as His fixer-upper with amazing plans in store. He already knows how it's going to look in the end, and He loves me just as much now as he will after I'm gutted and restored. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What's hiding under your linoleum and behind your ugly wall paper? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I challenge you to being gutted too. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEholNi-fGsa9AMeC1ziN6CWgjCwYvwD5ff3wjudn8wU8cJDGFBgKL4tG1mwBtAGo8uNDbl_hF2zwRV948jyBjYnxMMlZlZ0HTvDDUXbbFgFz-aD2O_PZE7AhYBK2-A2wal3iL7CW0niuQka/s1600/Gratitude-Changes-Everything-Free-Printable-Gray-Gold%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEholNi-fGsa9AMeC1ziN6CWgjCwYvwD5ff3wjudn8wU8cJDGFBgKL4tG1mwBtAGo8uNDbl_hF2zwRV948jyBjYnxMMlZlZ0HTvDDUXbbFgFz-aD2O_PZE7AhYBK2-A2wal3iL7CW0niuQka/s1600/Gratitude-Changes-Everything-Free-Printable-Gray-Gold%5B1%5D.jpg" height="400" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">((<a href="http://cityfarmhouse.com/2014/09/rustic-chic-fall-bookcase-free-printable.html" target="_blank">source</a>))</td></tr>
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<br />sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-17556817105499543712014-12-15T09:50:00.001-08:002014-12-15T09:50:40.315-08:00Good Thing Santa Ain't Real, My Sweet Boys<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">[Let's just get this our here folks, no judgement please. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">As for me and my household, Santa is not real, and we gently explain that </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">We make it clear that other families may believe in Santa and that's okay too.] </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">"In our house, mama and daddy put the presents under the tree."</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMQCcHlCnInJMv84LpZveMYzrZEt_CIF3g25mMTjp39mG38M1xb4aSF1LLFgsB-zR43qA7NKPhTyr1OM_9tpcdDzZDwc-TPedQob9FRaXaGl0Z2POxbDTlSyo703NCFhJQ0ptg2Z3-me53/s1600/vintage-santa-claus-christmas-shower-curtain-2%5B1%5D.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMQCcHlCnInJMv84LpZveMYzrZEt_CIF3g25mMTjp39mG38M1xb4aSF1LLFgsB-zR43qA7NKPhTyr1OM_9tpcdDzZDwc-TPedQob9FRaXaGl0Z2POxbDTlSyo703NCFhJQ0ptg2Z3-me53/s1600/vintage-santa-claus-christmas-shower-curtain-2%5B1%5D.png" height="320" width="316" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Last week we went to a Christmas event and Santa was present. On our way in I reminded the boys of the general rules: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1. Do not ask Santa if he is real ("We already know that he is not, and this is a fun time to just pretend and be silly, kind of like we do at Halloween.")</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2. Do not mention around all the children in there that Santa is not real. ("Other families may believe in him and it's not our job to tell them differently.")</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We went in and decorated cookies with friends, and then before we left the boys wanted to visit with Santa. They were so excited to share what they wanted for Christmas and it was as if the most famous celebrity in the world was in the room. They were completely starstruck. (we let them have fun with the santa thing, it's not like we are shielding them from the fun stuff)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Max and Eli sat on his lap (Gabriel hid behind me because he is so shy) and when asked what he wanted for Christmas Max told Santa that he wanted a policeman lego set. But Santa was not impressed. "You mean to tell me you don't have enough legos at home? I bet your mom and dad are tired of stepping on them." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">[Actually, we don't have a ton of legos and we bought them more for Christmas.]</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then he went to Gabriel, and asked what his wishes were for Christmas. "I want a nerf gun." Santa straight told him no and moved on to Eli. Then Gabriel quickly changed his mind as to not miss out on the opportunity to have Santa's blessing over his gift wish. So he asked for legos too. Santa was not impressed. Eli mumbled that he wanted "guys" (action figures) and then Santa told the boys that if they could go then next 13 days, 7 hours and 4 minutes without fighting that he would make sure that there was a special gift under the tree for each boy. And then he said "But I'm guessing you boys won't make it til the end of the night."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The boys wanted a picture with him, so I took one. Even though my heart ached a little bit at the fact that that was not "fun and silly" at all. It's okay if <i>I </i>tell my boys that I'm tired of picking up legos and stepping on them, and it's okay if <i>I </i> tell Gabriel "no nerf guns" but it was not so much fun hearing it from Santa.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When we finally made it in to the car, the fighting started right away (as it always does after sugar has been devoured at record pace) and I turned around and hollered "<i>YOU KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS? IT'S A GOOD THING SANTA IS NOT REAL!!!" </i>That got their attention real quick. "Why would you say that mom!? That's so MEAN!" they told me. Then I went on with words that sounded something like this:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"It's a good thing Santa is not real because Santa ONLY brings toys to kids who are PREFECT. He has a good list and a bad list and by the way you guys are acting right now- do you think he would be writing your names on the good list? He told you he would ONLY bring those presents if you guys don't fight for THIRTEEN more days. You guys didn't make it THIRTEEN SECONDS. Mom and dad love you unconditionally and we don't put presents under the tree because you guys deserve it or have earned it by being "good boys." We bless you with gifts because we love blessing you with special things sometimes, whether you have been making good choices OR bad. God works the same way. He provides for us and gives us what we need EVEN THOUGH WE DON'T DESERVE IT. He doesn't JUST give us gifts if we are "good", be gives us what we need no matter what. So it's a GOOD thing Santa isn't in charge or NONE OF US WOULD GET GIFTS at Christmas."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Harsh right? Not really. I told them in a loving way, at a crucial moment, where I had their attention and they were teachable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I want my boys to be secure in the unconditional love and care of <i>God our Father</i>. I want them to know that even when we screw up, and fight with our brothers, and disobey and are rude, that there is redemption through a forgiving Jesus who gives us second chances... all the second chances we need, over and over and over again when we ask. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I want my boys to find hope and security in a God that provides and pours down blessings even when we don't deserve it, and I want them to learn from an early age, because I did and I am <i>still </i>learning to understand it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Okay, just had to get that out. More so for me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My parents did an awesome job of keeping Christmas sacred and holy, with a little bit of the silliness of Santa and reindeer and all that jazz. I hope to be able to do the same.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This mom stuff is hard. SO hard. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;"><b>merry christmas. </b></span></div>
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sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-86875380651274810422014-11-10T18:29:00.002-08:002014-11-10T18:36:31.808-08:00What does a Trades of Hope trunk show look like?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQPoP9IY9RSMkTXUerSykEJyGQNKsZ7oEvWZlkeyvyWBdPs-1I6u81w6-TGtuM2tFLcBExL9m4RUWs-KMNZoATEGK9F8TFXCZwNvis8unJ8E2eBZi_1MxVZ-ffDdqSqK1T3ewgfQvK7IWp/s1600/DSC_1723-Edit-3252141821-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQPoP9IY9RSMkTXUerSykEJyGQNKsZ7oEvWZlkeyvyWBdPs-1I6u81w6-TGtuM2tFLcBExL9m4RUWs-KMNZoATEGK9F8TFXCZwNvis8unJ8E2eBZi_1MxVZ-ffDdqSqK1T3ewgfQvK7IWp/s1600/DSC_1723-Edit-3252141821-O.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFyOyAKO-6Bs16M4LP8orlEvAWihI6iNEngKuzq8TGSpsRbxdBNtSU5odCpildW0kRk2GjFmtT9oHqaUU1d_Ts_7jhAZh8HGPref3nfF1HLrnHJeVkB_xfuoVlR79HV-3Th4JhHwnhIdYM/s1600/blank%5B1%5D.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFyOyAKO-6Bs16M4LP8orlEvAWihI6iNEngKuzq8TGSpsRbxdBNtSU5odCpildW0kRk2GjFmtT9oHqaUU1d_Ts_7jhAZh8HGPref3nfF1HLrnHJeVkB_xfuoVlR79HV-3Th4JhHwnhIdYM/s1600/blank%5B1%5D.png" /></a>I'm really excited about numerous opportunities I have coming up to share Trades of Hope. Many of my hostesses don't really know what to expect so I decided to share a little peak at what one of my Trades of Hope trunk shows looks like; here is an overview of what it's all about.<br />
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When I decided to become a Compassionate Entrepreneur with Trades of Hope, I was sick with anxiety. You guys I have done the Mary Kay thing, and other direct sales things that have not worked for me because I am <i>not</i> a sales person. I did not start Trades of Hope because I am a self-motivated business type. I started because I have a heart for the millions of women and children stuck in the sex industry. I want to be part of the help that gives hope and a future to women who can't feed their babes. I have a desire to be an advocate, a voice for the voiceless, and this is one of the tangible things I can do.<br />
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We all buy cute things to decorate our house and most of us wear jewelry and accessories. Even more of us use purses and bags to carry around diapers, Ipads or your necessities for work. Have you ever thought about who makes those things? Usually it's groups of people (including children) who are being under-paid, in undesirable working conditions, with no benefits, no breaks, no adequate bathrooms, and bosses who demand long hours and are unable or willing to care for their workers as individuals with basic needs.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglMwd_kMFSi1Hh_AojDX5rjHUZltxDu3musBf2WFPxVq5C6slwRe2HN6c4RoAolt6wh5KCe6JeSLQ4vYP74WS5Kgr0WKOHd0W-k5VMJ59P9OjSD7g_9ziND3VQWIgmieM7a4fGaV_jNGMW/s1600/o-SWEATSHOP-facebook%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglMwd_kMFSi1Hh_AojDX5rjHUZltxDu3musBf2WFPxVq5C6slwRe2HN6c4RoAolt6wh5KCe6JeSLQ4vYP74WS5Kgr0WKOHd0W-k5VMJ59P9OjSD7g_9ziND3VQWIgmieM7a4fGaV_jNGMW/s1600/o-SWEATSHOP-facebook%5B1%5D.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://galleryhip.com/chinese-sweatshop-child.html" target="_blank">(source)</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_89D_DVDM6vukh_MImIPFoCSjXpkMx9k15DOD4TA9JzN0BEUB9GC2gMwsB7J_2dAOWSmsVQTm9Ekm9Brrx1H9gCTZQhkUAOrbxANOCt2LLuoqIwKf7KD-YogKQJtleI_8lkTt3NOC5lQi/s1600/bangladesh_building_collapse_inaction_26707939%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_89D_DVDM6vukh_MImIPFoCSjXpkMx9k15DOD4TA9JzN0BEUB9GC2gMwsB7J_2dAOWSmsVQTm9Ekm9Brrx1H9gCTZQhkUAOrbxANOCt2LLuoqIwKf7KD-YogKQJtleI_8lkTt3NOC5lQi/s1600/bangladesh_building_collapse_inaction_26707939%5B1%5D.jpg" height="260" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><a href="http://galleryhip.com/chinese-sweatshop-child.html" target="_blank">(source)</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We work with reputable organizations (most fair-trade certified*) and ministries that pay their workers livable wages, generally 3-6 times more than they would make if they were working on their own selling their goods on the street. Many of the organizations/ministries are able to provide benefits like job skill training, budgeting classes, dental and health care, childcare while the women work, etc.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(*those that are not officially fair-trade <i>certified </i>still follow fair-trade guidelines; their groups are just too small and unable to pay the fees enabling them to have the certification)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid9z24a1YBBqqKOa2tsyhOLbT4QGygkzPmF4G3xVmckghvmiPKuZidMpiAHUfnAtzqk6ZOqOCYkRQ7h5ra8sWmhVTaAzC7hyphenhyphengCeEWSWLIjwuqjH5zhyUm-PGvhDGLSz0DgRuQd4noXzGkr/s1600/4581_image_237270%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid9z24a1YBBqqKOa2tsyhOLbT4QGygkzPmF4G3xVmckghvmiPKuZidMpiAHUfnAtzqk6ZOqOCYkRQ7h5ra8sWmhVTaAzC7hyphenhyphengCeEWSWLIjwuqjH5zhyUm-PGvhDGLSz0DgRuQd4noXzGkr/s1600/4581_image_237270%5B1%5D.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Artisans in Haiti from the Apparent Project</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmUJ9bdcen6B280YP4tdKG2ZXPGBx-6RlGbCoUdnCSVJzGMBrRmS1K1YMBuWI1j6vK0XuqsMTMxivfOJlO45oTLccL0H8XXoArqabcokHvC4xYqYyJCJjeEWhmp8BBFRrseEauNHytkEg/s1600/2117%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmUJ9bdcen6B280YP4tdKG2ZXPGBx-6RlGbCoUdnCSVJzGMBrRmS1K1YMBuWI1j6vK0XuqsMTMxivfOJlO45oTLccL0H8XXoArqabcokHvC4xYqYyJCJjeEWhmp8BBFRrseEauNHytkEg/s1600/2117%5B1%5D.jpg" height="263" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of our artisans in Uganda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQluKvIWCM-Qf60PYGb5Nr6UjniKEE7TdvxvS2VL2vI8wXnc5ym5801ICcB9UKmF7HQRjBEnRjgD3nkjUBU9gG3XN8H77SWjxCJ4lWfZK1Dyx6F_C6CflJWQ8HiCBc1UDh4DLaysHncpDX/s1600/4140079%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQluKvIWCM-Qf60PYGb5Nr6UjniKEE7TdvxvS2VL2vI8wXnc5ym5801ICcB9UKmF7HQRjBEnRjgD3nkjUBU9gG3XN8H77SWjxCJ4lWfZK1Dyx6F_C6CflJWQ8HiCBc1UDh4DLaysHncpDX/s1600/4140079%5B1%5D.jpg" height="320" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Esther is one of our artisans in India. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZZN_wvlrapU1bx2IxrckywJ4MeA6QcoA0SpXB6cYn6Iu1Q62J4bbM1SINwwrSIXGItV83Q6Oy_G3ANhL_I-78iYPzuY51IDtbYfshzIWwbBSgewCcsosSDDTV-B3gCD8A956ZVaWfSL-X/s1600/954916%5B1%5D.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZZN_wvlrapU1bx2IxrckywJ4MeA6QcoA0SpXB6cYn6Iu1Q62J4bbM1SINwwrSIXGItV83Q6Oy_G3ANhL_I-78iYPzuY51IDtbYfshzIWwbBSgewCcsosSDDTV-B3gCD8A956ZVaWfSL-X/s1600/954916%5B1%5D.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our group in Costa Rica is happy to work with Trades of Hope. Our large orders<br />
enable them to hire more women and create amazing change in the slums where they are located. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">So what does one of my Trades of Hope trunk shows look like? </span></div>
<br />
I bring a couple of "trunks" full of the items made by our artisans and I display them creatively in your home or wherever you have decided to host. I have done shows in both. I love being in people's homes, but it is also really fun and easier for the hostess to be at a neighborhood coffee shop (where <i>they</i> do all the dishes, make the coffee, serve the wine and provide the treats.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijpyMcJWJSqyOWoixx4X_TaIBuiZ-rj_nO9wkT68cPhF1ycvSlzU8ydkSCKZOghm4xbY9MlAu57wdKTPjZlMAoomvrBj7SGIkeISqEdOJl3JwFP83UUmye0dZLviTlxVVSSJFu3KJyePR8/s1600/DSC_1893-Edit-3252156105-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijpyMcJWJSqyOWoixx4X_TaIBuiZ-rj_nO9wkT68cPhF1ycvSlzU8ydkSCKZOghm4xbY9MlAu57wdKTPjZlMAoomvrBj7SGIkeISqEdOJl3JwFP83UUmye0dZLviTlxVVSSJFu3KJyePR8/s1600/DSC_1893-Edit-3252156105-O.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgilUAjDLoG2HMlou5d5TBkvUfqtZOuhWMDS2RcWaEYDXiuqBWIpnIta33neFZf_LeFtg3WL_EDNvOClMsJWynsiRUwdfKisSMPI9rTpfdC1VB_TrSgl3bgFDZ9MksUGodmKbx6w0LZks4/s1600/DSC_1776-Edit-3252146594-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgilUAjDLoG2HMlou5d5TBkvUfqtZOuhWMDS2RcWaEYDXiuqBWIpnIta33neFZf_LeFtg3WL_EDNvOClMsJWynsiRUwdfKisSMPI9rTpfdC1VB_TrSgl3bgFDZ9MksUGodmKbx6w0LZks4/s1600/DSC_1776-Edit-3252146594-O.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
We wait for all of your friends to arrive, and then after everyone is settled in with their drinks we begin. I just basically share my heart, educate about the global issues going on that are negatively impacting so many women around the world, suggest tangible ways we can help, and encourage everyone to take part in one way, shape or form. We have amazing discussions, share experiences, and ask questions. Sometimes we cry. Sometimes we pray. Sometimes hard questions are asked and hard answers are given. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RssMQ_v9fZoaEM7OKauNZKtkkxCrkA7CAFkITH2wpa6p7fMoC0Aot1k2sF79aLktiC7wSlqKJYKo117dR1xirvOsFwylMt5-HnuEpIzSCbc2pIlAM3Nk9eUsR6jJTGhwB3DTyR3trB0T/s1600/DSC_1815-Edit-3252150776-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RssMQ_v9fZoaEM7OKauNZKtkkxCrkA7CAFkITH2wpa6p7fMoC0Aot1k2sF79aLktiC7wSlqKJYKo117dR1xirvOsFwylMt5-HnuEpIzSCbc2pIlAM3Nk9eUsR6jJTGhwB3DTyR3trB0T/s1600/DSC_1815-Edit-3252150776-O.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Sometimes hearts are broken, but they are quickly encouraged. This is not a pity party to make you feel bad for being a privileged American. This is an opportunity for you to become aware, and for you and your friends to help be a light where there is so much darkness.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4RRshsxFmze6BXXqLl68kWe1lC2iHERCxGVC1ymnbwas3A6SEZWeIuKXLbcknKLs4O7UDr4aYeF_HiWul3Z455qfXKJ8UhEpeBCsMB8dpidUtPsaSxbCQVyXuAw4A5XnXQ5qG28Mzf_G4/s1600/DSC_1941-Edit-3252163808-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4RRshsxFmze6BXXqLl68kWe1lC2iHERCxGVC1ymnbwas3A6SEZWeIuKXLbcknKLs4O7UDr4aYeF_HiWul3Z455qfXKJ8UhEpeBCsMB8dpidUtPsaSxbCQVyXuAw4A5XnXQ5qG28Mzf_G4/s1600/DSC_1941-Edit-3252163808-O.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Then we refill our drinks, enjoy some snacks and everyone shops. Most of our items are under $50 so even those of us on a tight budget are able to leave with something special. One of my favorite pairs of earrings is just $20.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8o1JlLsXRB5j4JX8LkDSH3I0Jux-6PQTY4l60wYD7UOcq1LNdw-Oki4kjbZ0OMQVz_HyHKnNQ0tnf2RWP5zOYLiH_x2V2JWulbExu2epaZ9rfuoAZCN6irURSDwXfC1RCGLlFwCaUsaec/s1600/DSC_2051-Edit-3252172999-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8o1JlLsXRB5j4JX8LkDSH3I0Jux-6PQTY4l60wYD7UOcq1LNdw-Oki4kjbZ0OMQVz_HyHKnNQ0tnf2RWP5zOYLiH_x2V2JWulbExu2epaZ9rfuoAZCN6irURSDwXfC1RCGLlFwCaUsaec/s1600/DSC_2051-Edit-3252172999-O.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Earrings range from about $18 to $32.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3jimwILnSkTXGaAs58ESmqmUFDF0D-y1kSCNbNI_HS-G43bGg_obgdskoRggZcF2nIHBIpV50ov09otNHZm5YLbjXpsu05OApBqHeNtmX4Q74isjMwUXxzmT69yLEQgt5IGIGRLS6PL31/s1600/DSC_1981-Edit-3252167452-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3jimwILnSkTXGaAs58ESmqmUFDF0D-y1kSCNbNI_HS-G43bGg_obgdskoRggZcF2nIHBIpV50ov09otNHZm5YLbjXpsu05OApBqHeNtmX4Q74isjMwUXxzmT69yLEQgt5IGIGRLS6PL31/s1600/DSC_1981-Edit-3252167452-O.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some items are available to purchase at the trunk show, <br />
other items are shipped to your home for a flat rate of $4.95</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitQpxF2YOaGneVelDhMmOQK3ybkT05CY7_InrnGTk_NJpjkKa41vVxaCQUuHxQ36Qt7vRrwRzM_dooG85MF11UFbpOxbixupPsPqeGoZk7ftNNzK8Yd6a2aHgIEFHKtgAeO8aqss9JNuK7/s1600/DSC_1750-Edit-3252145767-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitQpxF2YOaGneVelDhMmOQK3ybkT05CY7_InrnGTk_NJpjkKa41vVxaCQUuHxQ36Qt7vRrwRzM_dooG85MF11UFbpOxbixupPsPqeGoZk7ftNNzK8Yd6a2aHgIEFHKtgAeO8aqss9JNuK7/s1600/DSC_1750-Edit-3252145767-O.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bright and colorful bags, clutches, purses and even a child's sized turtle backpack</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlN7wMJmZA-8UcUVLwx4cqtYkh4iKO2vUymq4jaHgfrBfYphk2Fdl5kWQZNa6FnJAciUWfsCFS5bam5iBrnyXNpPa33797qleiygy-5LHzYS7KDmlevWwEhP7pgEWRjc6uUzgtvmi95-J-/s1600/DSC_1836-Edit-3252150547-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlN7wMJmZA-8UcUVLwx4cqtYkh4iKO2vUymq4jaHgfrBfYphk2Fdl5kWQZNa6FnJAciUWfsCFS5bam5iBrnyXNpPa33797qleiygy-5LHzYS7KDmlevWwEhP7pgEWRjc6uUzgtvmi95-J-/s1600/DSC_1836-Edit-3252150547-O.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of our best sellers, this necklace is from Haiti and is a beautiful collection<br />
of hand-made beads; some are made of clay, some are made of <i>CEREAL BOXES</i>!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4Kf2n8r1-cYbs3o41fJn88qSDjt-rbAGAtddTLVhJ_qsulN2LsMB0YQeoehIpEYdeNjtuXoOBqiORBD_bMvnWyp0YQ_mIaxY5LVlD4n2Dw0KEtUwctv12WX06GjRS0pVuRej3RvOJU1p/s1600/DSC_1737-Edit-3252143303-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4Kf2n8r1-cYbs3o41fJn88qSDjt-rbAGAtddTLVhJ_qsulN2LsMB0YQeoehIpEYdeNjtuXoOBqiORBD_bMvnWyp0YQ_mIaxY5LVlD4n2Dw0KEtUwctv12WX06GjRS0pVuRej3RvOJU1p/s1600/DSC_1737-Edit-3252143303-O.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a "jewelry person"? Bracelets are a great and easy way to ease into wearing accessories.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At the end of the night it's fun to take a picture of everyone that was able to come, if that's your kind of thang:)<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimE150tcIcvzwMfOrLegb675CBfMzMVvly7cKAn6a6HOvZimiJNhxUmjJpk7NOLZMcoCe4sIHfd2Cg_IZfDb0d1FLZLJlLmjE14a7idMko-1PEF_YvBldUmhUZK8_Nq3N078hGTiTLLSww/s1600/DSC_1960-Edit-3252164466-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimE150tcIcvzwMfOrLegb675CBfMzMVvly7cKAn6a6HOvZimiJNhxUmjJpk7NOLZMcoCe4sIHfd2Cg_IZfDb0d1FLZLJlLmjE14a7idMko-1PEF_YvBldUmhUZK8_Nq3N078hGTiTLLSww/s1600/DSC_1960-Edit-3252164466-O.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9heo_PE2CnxUChyphenhyphen-4EyO2Z6-1ouRB73dIFWNn_0lfbOgRBN4_p5cFt01ycGt-mioU8k5LvRGhnJm0sxVm-KTsVd_pR276HegMqgKhFLeRCRO0lQ-muSPNhe0LpT2aNGIdILgFvoMD48HG/s1600/DSC_2046-Edit-3252171280-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9heo_PE2CnxUChyphenhyphen-4EyO2Z6-1ouRB73dIFWNn_0lfbOgRBN4_p5cFt01ycGt-mioU8k5LvRGhnJm0sxVm-KTsVd_pR276HegMqgKhFLeRCRO0lQ-muSPNhe0LpT2aNGIdILgFvoMD48HG/s1600/DSC_2046-Edit-3252171280-O.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And some times we sneak cute pictures of our cute friends <br />
wearing their cute new stuff:)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
If you want more info or would like to place an order online </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
you can check out my website <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.mytradesofhope.com/sierrahegstrom" target="_blank"><b>here</b></a>.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">If you have any questions, want to book a party </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">or want info on becoming a compassionate entrepreneur </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">you can email me at:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>sierra.tradesofhope@gmail.com</b></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
[all photos not sourced were graciously shot and shared by <a href="http://sarahhardiephotography.com/" target="_blank">Sarah Hardie Photography</a>]</div>
sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-59497768320279931292014-11-03T14:45:00.003-08:002015-07-25T19:50:06.167-07:00All about that simple life...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumFbTWtDWjLkO4xrxa2pDTSPlt1IeFJnnjLotxRro81yzO6JmZxaODVT9L_mlsVJuFvQtSuCkluvFCkp_urji1DGDVSoCmpkd9ZQ7jiH6fSrHedu5zyqA_8rHdguAWHo0a8wPJXgcm0iF/s1600/8a479f99a5f59f94072bd3d43c03fcc5%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumFbTWtDWjLkO4xrxa2pDTSPlt1IeFJnnjLotxRro81yzO6JmZxaODVT9L_mlsVJuFvQtSuCkluvFCkp_urji1DGDVSoCmpkd9ZQ7jiH6fSrHedu5zyqA_8rHdguAWHo0a8wPJXgcm0iF/s1600/8a479f99a5f59f94072bd3d43c03fcc5%5B1%5D.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I really should order this.<br />
<a href="http://scoutmob.com/p/stay-simple-embroidered-wall-art?pid=314&cid=S1406A" target="_blank">[source]</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
It's been two months since our family life got a lot more "simple." And by "simple" I mean I just don't do daycare anymore.<br />
<br />
I have been working my tail off doing house projects, volunteering, loving on Eli while Gabriel is at school, learning about/using essential oils, preparing wood signs and dolls for craft fairs and my friend's new shop HWY North, and getting ready for lots of Trades of Hope trunk shows and vendor events.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
House Projects. </div>
Living room: a few porcelain mounted deer heads have joined my living room decor. We ripped up the carpet in the living room and I found a great new rug.... that already has a stain. I was devastated.... but with small boys come spills, leaks, messes. That's life.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEZ_3CCPR7Mv1Ktkrg_y0ww6QADAgmIDYRSp52fxLjrch355R-LcC8SkFOCfihWmbP1s878-cA627Fb2iCITs1-fFr-IlqaAPmH6x-EN8NkOnbDsba_4J1itJTVYUSGKD3b6ILc8rteq9E/s1600/kristin-wiig-disgust1%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEZ_3CCPR7Mv1Ktkrg_y0ww6QADAgmIDYRSp52fxLjrch355R-LcC8SkFOCfihWmbP1s878-cA627Fb2iCITs1-fFr-IlqaAPmH6x-EN8NkOnbDsba_4J1itJTVYUSGKD3b6ILc8rteq9E/s1600/kristin-wiig-disgust1%5B1%5D.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">this is my feeling on the art of raising boys lately. </span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo83b4mx6pwitx6YeLyoVU9Zjy7GHCCdv05MQ2Uya9OC8N1rVjqhwAoQAFqAS7rT_Nor6F3Wl306wO20KDPNrYw96N8uA5WyrTcLSvyut0tNS5-RgDnICf_PHaxA4mHKo9OZB4BFkJqTDM/s1600/kristen-wiig-snl-2%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo83b4mx6pwitx6YeLyoVU9Zjy7GHCCdv05MQ2Uya9OC8N1rVjqhwAoQAFqAS7rT_Nor6F3Wl306wO20KDPNrYw96N8uA5WyrTcLSvyut0tNS5-RgDnICf_PHaxA4mHKo9OZB4BFkJqTDM/s1600/kristen-wiig-snl-2%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">kristen wiig's faces help me express my deepest emotions and thoughts</span>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Our bedroom: Matt surprised me and painted! And a day later I began painting over it. Baby yellow is not my thang, and as nice as it was for him to paint, I had to gently break it to him that... just, no. I got some fun things to hang above our bed. An old vintage looking fan (it's just the cage and blades), some neat frames and a manly rugged scull and antlers... I said no to the paint color, Matt said no to an animal scull hanging over our bed. Marriage is all about balance. I can handle it. (I thought it looked rugged and manly... he wasn't amused). I also got nice new sheets and a gorgeous new white duvet... that Gabriel poured fractionated coconut oil all over last night when he was mad that Ipad time was over. Oil. All over our sheets and down comforter. Did I mention I'm all in to the oils? Like literally... they are now stained in to my sleeping arrangements. That's life.<br />
So anyways, when our bedroom project is complete I will post pictures. I am so excited for our room to feel finished.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Volunteering.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I am now at Breaking Free very Friday morning and every last Tuesday of the month. On Fridays my friend Moriah and I help process donations. We hang clothing, organize, and sort. It's really fun, and we get to work with one of the interns that is a graduate of the program there. She is fun to chat with and it's fun getting to know her. A couple of weeks ago a new girl had just joined the program and she came in while we were there. The intern helped her to find under garments, warm clothing and a winter coat. It was a beautiful thing to see her so amazed that these items were available to her. I am so grateful to be a part of this. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
On the last Tuesday of each month we do outreach on the streets in Minneapolis. We hand out sandwiches, water bottles, toiletry kits, condoms and business cards with info about Breaking Free. In September I had the opportunity to talk with a woman who is stuck in prostitution. She needed help and we were able to provide resources. She told us her story and it was so heart breaking. But she was positive and encouraged, and she let us speak life, truth and beauty in to her heart. She even let us pray with her. Pray for Bonnie. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Mornings with Eli.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Me and Eli have the sweetest mornings. Some mornings I get the biggest and middlest on the bus and then crawl back in bed with Eli at my side where we fall back asleep for another hour. Sometimes we visit Sugarush for donuts and good conversation with the owner. Sometimes Eli watches Curious George while I clean and do dishes. Sometimes we have friends over for a coffee/play date. Whatever we do, it's wonderful and peaceful and I am soaking in every minute with my littlest boy.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Essential Oils.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Yep. I did it. You haven't yet? You should. I use oils and our family is benefiting majorly. I have barely touched our medicine cabinet since August. I'm a believer. (Contact me for more info if you are interested in how you can get educated and start using them too.) </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Getting Creative. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I now have wood signs and dolls at my friend Emily's local gift shop! Check out <a href="http://thehighwaynorth.com/" target="_blank">HWY North</a> at the intersection of Hamline and Minnehaha Avenues in the Hamline-Midway neighborhood of St. Paul. I'm also going to have hand-crafted items for sale at a few craft fairs in November and December.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Trades of Hope</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I have parties and vendor shows booked for the holiday season. I am super excited to continue to share this vision and to help teach women that we are all able to help empower women out of poverty. We have a new catalog out for fall/winter. Check it out my website<a href="http://www.mytradesofhope.com/sierrahegstrom" target="_blank"> here</a>.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Well, there's what my "simple" life looks like as of late. It's busy and full, but I am feeling good about what each and every day is accomplishing. Good stuff. Hard stuff. Life stuff. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
All of the things I wanted to do once this season began. Well not all, <i>most.</i> I still suck at meal planning. Oh well. That'll come <i>next </i>season maybe.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
xoxo</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-8863954537827569722014-09-04T14:53:00.001-07:002014-09-04T14:53:24.359-07:00mama to manyThis week has been so wonderful and quiet. I feel like it's been the weekend for a week now.<br />
<br />
A lot of people have asked why I'm not doing daycare anymore, especially because they would have liked for me to watch their children in the future.<br />
<br />
Doing childcare over the last seven years has been so helpful to my little growing family. I have had the joy of caring for SO many little ones since Maximo was a babe, and even before. It helped me to bring in some income, it allowed for me to be with my kids and to eventually care for kids in my own house. It was a perfect fit with my life as a stay-at-home-mom.<br />
<br />
Timing was perfect. It was recently time for Tya to start kindergarten. Ramona's mom and dad were ready to move her to another in-home-daycare with her cousins. As this time drew near, I knew in my heart that it was time for me to be done.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Eli is only home for one more year before he does pre-K <i>NEXT YEAR</i>! I want to enjoy his last full year home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">My ability to advocate, educate and help to fight against sex trafficking is expanding. The door has opened up for me to volunteer with Breaking Free. And I hope to do many Trades of Hope trunk shows this fall. Have you hosted one yet? If not, please think about it! <i>You</i> can help <i>me </i>spread awareness, hope and love to women all over the world. Check out my website and take a look at our new fall/winter catalog <i><a href="http://mytradesofhope.com/sierrahegstrom" target="_blank">here</a></i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I have an opportunity to sew and create again, AND for my items to be for sale in an up and coming local, hand-made gift shop! I plan to make more wood signs, poster prints, dolls (including more Frida dolls!), etc. And I am looking into possibly doing screen-printed shirts.</span><br />
<br />
A couple of weeks ago my husband brought me home a plant from the farmer's market. I have become a <strike>hoarder</strike> lover of indoor plants and he knew that I would love to welcome another plant child. I'd never seen a plant like it before so I posted a picture to the St. Paul Perennial facebook page and other plant lovers educated me. It's called a "Mother to Thousands". Go figure.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEQTcSRenyFR2Y3ezyicuku_Jvo-YCI9PjRQkJs0dFEdfctKXeteSdn2Jbp-C3EW9u_-h2JWlkfRlQrzoaStfdYLj9eewMA6STkHNAniwPgBswfkLebhXwQLsmXGIBbzS9ONPosOS0HlSv/s1600/photo+(13).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEQTcSRenyFR2Y3ezyicuku_Jvo-YCI9PjRQkJs0dFEdfctKXeteSdn2Jbp-C3EW9u_-h2JWlkfRlQrzoaStfdYLj9eewMA6STkHNAniwPgBswfkLebhXwQLsmXGIBbzS9ONPosOS0HlSv/s1600/photo+(13).JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I believe that God's timing is perfect and that He has a plan for my life that is coming to fruition. I will always be a "mother to <strike>thousands</strike> many" but it will look differently now.<br />
<br />
Tya had a wonderful first day at school. Ramona's new daycare mom sounds wonderful. And my life moves forward with those little girls and all the kids before them forever in my heart.<br />
<br />
Cheers to the new season. Cheers to autumn time- my favorite time of year. Cheers to the next chapter in my beautiful and messy life.sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-13018427141118243472014-09-02T21:37:00.003-07:002014-09-02T21:44:27.984-07:00sometimes He calms the storm...<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">There is this super outdated song that still warms my heart every time I hear it about how God comforts us and protects us. It sounds like it is from 1994... don't make fun of me. Here are some of the words:</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Sometimes He calms the storm </span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">With a whispered peace be still</span><span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;"></span></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">He can settle any sea </span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">
</span><span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
But it doesn't mean He will </div>
</span><span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Sometimes He holds us close </div>
</span><span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
And lets the wind and waves go wild </div>
</span><span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Sometimes He calms the storm </div>
</span><span style="line-height: 20.799999237060547px;"><div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">
And other times He calms His child </div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
Max has been really worried about Gabriel starting school. He is worried that kids will bully him. Max hasn't had issues with bullies yet, but the funny thing is that <i>HE </i>is <i>always </i>bullying Gabriel. </div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
I can tell that this Gabriel-going-to-school issue is heavy on Max's heart because he had an awful nightmare the other night that Gabriel drowned in a lake. For a couple of days it was something that he needed to tearfully process through with me multiple times.</div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
Max was really difficult this summer. I was beginning to think that I had the meanest most awful kid in the world. All he did was bother his brothers and bother me. He was rude. He picked fights and called everyone names. He was completely empty of any compassion for anyone. </div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
And now, over night, his heart is filled with brotherly compassion and he is a changed kid. He has been so sweet, so thoughtful, and so loving towards his family.</div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
I'm letting him ride this out. We are talking a lot about our responsibilities as mom+dad, his responsibility as brother, and God's responsibility as the ultimate protector. His current fear and anxiety can't go away unless I decide to keep Gabriel home this year and not send him to school. That's not an option. </div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
In this situation I can't calm the big worries. But I can calm his little heart and assure him that Gabriel is going to be okay. </div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">
I feel like God consistently reveals his identity to me through situations that come up with my boys. God always comes through, whether it's to help our little heart manage or to help solve the big huge issue that is burdening us. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Sometimes He calms the storm </span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 20.799999237060547px;"></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 20.799999237060547px;"></span><span style="line-height: 20.799999237060547px;"></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">And other times He calms His child</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">
</span></span>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 20.799999237060547px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 20.799999237060547px;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9njrxzijAejzKA-JsxZfRbxbUz4jvnQO0Xm-Wp-lrY8LSy4mbqacc3Fim_b3_WNLBU5D2BluaiIEaYsMdxuUWPP7P7DyMEfeaZxwT63z9viftcJRx9GI9ZPuxw2JGxgEy45ZC6Y-2ahSc/s1600/1394028_10101013120646892_6990478359068312016_n%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9njrxzijAejzKA-JsxZfRbxbUz4jvnQO0Xm-Wp-lrY8LSy4mbqacc3Fim_b3_WNLBU5D2BluaiIEaYsMdxuUWPP7P7DyMEfeaZxwT63z9viftcJRx9GI9ZPuxw2JGxgEy45ZC6Y-2ahSc/s1600/1394028_10101013120646892_6990478359068312016_n%5B1%5D.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<br />
I have a lot of friends who are struggling with big things, situations that feel over whelming and too huge to handle. Be still and know. He may solve the big picture, or he may comfort your heart as He walks with you through it.<br />
<br />
Peace be with you.</div>
</span></span></div>
sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-49011555041028145372014-07-24T18:24:00.000-07:002014-07-24T18:24:03.502-07:00It's all about to change.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;">Hey. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;">Yeah hi...</span></div>
It's been a long time.<br />
I know, I always say that.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
This summer has been busy. Last week and this week have been pretty peaceful as Maximo is in summer school and one of my daycare kids is gone this month. So I have had a little more breathing room. We spend almost everyday at the pool or at the park. We have playdates every other day. For as busy and crazy as it has been, it has been fun.<br />
<br />
This fall though, everything changes. Take a deep breath. I do every time I think about it.<br />
Max will be in school.<br />
Gabriel will be in pre-K (like preschool) half days.<br />
I will no longer do daycare.<br />
I will <i>only </i>have Eli home during the day.<br />
Just let it sink in.<br />
<br />
I may actually be able to run to Costco, Trader Joe's and Target during the day.<br />
I may get to go visit more friends during the week, and with only one kid to buckle in.<br />
I may be able to keep a cleaner house, and be a better meal planner.<br />
I may be able to work out again.<br />
I may be able to volunteer once a week at <a href="http://www.breakingfree.net/" target="_blank">Breaking Free</a>.<br />
<br />
It's weird that I am entering in to a new season of life, that my season of little kids at my feet all day - is <i>over</i>. I'm done having babies in my house.<br />
Just let it sink in. I'll give you a minute...<br />
<br />
I have so many hopes and dreams for what this next season will look like.... but I don't know what is to come. The one thing I am certain of, is that I am leaving it up to God. Because he has a plan for this next season.<br />
<br />
So for the next six weeks I will be finishing up this season well. I'll be holding Ramona a little tighter when she lets me. I'll be soaking up Tya's giggles and hugs. I'll be having lots of fun at the pools/playgrounds/playdates with the kids.<br />
<br />
Ugh. Fine, I guess I'll try to <i>enjoy every moment</i> the way the seasoned moms tell me too... (personally I think they tell me to do that only because they remember every moment with their little <strike>tornadoes</strike> treasures being tender and wonderful... I hope I remember these moments like that!)<br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Here is a little taste of my summer so far:</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz1jDFPAmeXCnU3j6tUXkd7frL6WJ9JUDtL39-kKwbBH1bEqOScbaPP8da6pOHZo7dWuos2_ifYqTLKBq8bLdy3WZ4hl2OaXB_T7ito288FgaggLKkQK_f69oC_BhxSfWNZDpVy2Q3Q5Xg/s1600/IMG_9661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz1jDFPAmeXCnU3j6tUXkd7frL6WJ9JUDtL39-kKwbBH1bEqOScbaPP8da6pOHZo7dWuos2_ifYqTLKBq8bLdy3WZ4hl2OaXB_T7ito288FgaggLKkQK_f69oC_BhxSfWNZDpVy2Q3Q5Xg/s1600/IMG_9661.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">pool day e'ery day</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiKsFc8DaVHXosUk8qoH4ZNalxWG_p47xK3_gHl0R6HweFxEDmHntmEqPRbFIxtH9VXHpy-57TLshAMRXwXdBEiBBw5x08PTu1X1rw2tAKmJotzmOkFmqNs_kvE2yUBNSFp5AThNsd8hQF/s1600/IMG_9643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiKsFc8DaVHXosUk8qoH4ZNalxWG_p47xK3_gHl0R6HweFxEDmHntmEqPRbFIxtH9VXHpy-57TLshAMRXwXdBEiBBw5x08PTu1X1rw2tAKmJotzmOkFmqNs_kvE2yUBNSFp5AThNsd8hQF/s1600/IMG_9643.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">me and seester pretend we are kardashians sometimes.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjobdPaJuHgdBG1YzskKBAexadBsBDCpQLis9ZaJLhOZMGyZykAt-PiVWjLmdXxEPVXGyQft-fBlJ5rJN4Tztba7GEfqn-Sitn28nK90lRq1mhh8l2QFTMFoyiyxVsYBSMedUuLjC0u4UNV/s1600/IMG_9644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjobdPaJuHgdBG1YzskKBAexadBsBDCpQLis9ZaJLhOZMGyZykAt-PiVWjLmdXxEPVXGyQft-fBlJ5rJN4Tztba7GEfqn-Sitn28nK90lRq1mhh8l2QFTMFoyiyxVsYBSMedUuLjC0u4UNV/s1600/IMG_9644.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">matt and i are being intentional about our marriage.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz87XIwpWNhQLA4VBkPEEZJXx_YJGsYUuEb1vVm46zPxjUE1hwdANtJjvo6jvqL0cvs3gFLax3l5E-Gc8lkImJhUDJrgabbTheqaRYvp88yJyrt0uzq6mYUAoi9BY56ErBD2GlnA7ni7Ht/s1600/IMG_9545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz87XIwpWNhQLA4VBkPEEZJXx_YJGsYUuEb1vVm46zPxjUE1hwdANtJjvo6jvqL0cvs3gFLax3l5E-Gc8lkImJhUDJrgabbTheqaRYvp88yJyrt0uzq6mYUAoi9BY56ErBD2GlnA7ni7Ht/s1600/IMG_9545.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">maybe i'll actually wear real pants when i'm no longer<br />chasing kids all day? prolly not.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinghdlPE_KVpMzejdYigkyKWykFfLZiHIRtiPpst_bWZVwHYlnbRpfA_fLtu370qI3MbnfKeeEiqufUhHHJaaUZeNOeWKa9OlUnpYUDlcrxg3uxHokn2buKAPf1pNDpE4ZvMnuOOwO1NXz/s1600/IMG_9544.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinghdlPE_KVpMzejdYigkyKWykFfLZiHIRtiPpst_bWZVwHYlnbRpfA_fLtu370qI3MbnfKeeEiqufUhHHJaaUZeNOeWKa9OlUnpYUDlcrxg3uxHokn2buKAPf1pNDpE4ZvMnuOOwO1NXz/s1600/IMG_9544.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">little eli</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_G_F3sLCPjJ34zrcwNRmObEEfo9Dk3FRzUZX2MFL2PDF4dnSEgSTCESR4je5tVQZeB2IilBsZ13TIlCUHglH6WfbzWDnDm_jieA8EUA1OTq98O8TEBY08JFfpkGih7jDQ38W03FEaWlzU/s1600/IMG_9328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_G_F3sLCPjJ34zrcwNRmObEEfo9Dk3FRzUZX2MFL2PDF4dnSEgSTCESR4je5tVQZeB2IilBsZ13TIlCUHglH6WfbzWDnDm_jieA8EUA1OTq98O8TEBY08JFfpkGih7jDQ38W03FEaWlzU/s1600/IMG_9328.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">seester got a neck tattoo. i got one on my foot.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTw-9XsanBDrK1Qc5ktrRlrSH1uzNrhP57IiEuZGnQ3XV8Buy4MVbS6K9VZ3wdC41L9-HddDdFCqt86DZt5JbqIzwqlnLBqmhCn9NCJWEBDdZWni4yF9l9UCRcJughGtzdJ9aSURzxQJ5/s1600/IMG_9317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTw-9XsanBDrK1Qc5ktrRlrSH1uzNrhP57IiEuZGnQ3XV8Buy4MVbS6K9VZ3wdC41L9-HddDdFCqt86DZt5JbqIzwqlnLBqmhCn9NCJWEBDdZWni4yF9l9UCRcJughGtzdJ9aSURzxQJ5/s1600/IMG_9317.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a tiny bit of brotherly love</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBJaTjJ5Wxw0mN7nn-yTNjYQ9o_uDO9VHSf9GqeP1hR5BNPYpAlIr7RkqqGqDO-X4VxPBq0QB9C-MWZWf49Gg_m3qpmzV7ykHk6itRw8K2bc-Gb-ECFWjhvFsYzcUc0mbL2VkyUbSpVhDC/s1600/IMG_9206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBJaTjJ5Wxw0mN7nn-yTNjYQ9o_uDO9VHSf9GqeP1hR5BNPYpAlIr7RkqqGqDO-X4VxPBq0QB9C-MWZWf49Gg_m3qpmzV7ykHk6itRw8K2bc-Gb-ECFWjhvFsYzcUc0mbL2VkyUbSpVhDC/s1600/IMG_9206.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a lot of brotherly cuteness here. wow.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjuPQ-oYti5T1atJZ30HX4yLBo2FW3Ns0Fa7trtXTD8ZxMRFMkk2lBRxBywzgURHyYz3mwDsf30sSq6T1QkqB3hpnPYrE7K_Kdbgqt7vkowfPfjgmPTTNryTkInQU5fm5-AFDfid5Es08n/s1600/IMG_9130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjuPQ-oYti5T1atJZ30HX4yLBo2FW3Ns0Fa7trtXTD8ZxMRFMkk2lBRxBywzgURHyYz3mwDsf30sSq6T1QkqB3hpnPYrE7K_Kdbgqt7vkowfPfjgmPTTNryTkInQU5fm5-AFDfid5Es08n/s1600/IMG_9130.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">tya and tha boyzz</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgBry-BBX6KmlJc9GAzR5ACkhRbknca5JYMUf1WFr4wuP0gF4uvsoNVZ-Y8cZPO4Mau_A1CrQ2f9bGnE9sQ1f1eLDbVipJVCT91rsBNfN-auroAF1d86jIq15DtSaNnkWwpqJVgDuooMd2/s1600/IMG_9041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgBry-BBX6KmlJc9GAzR5ACkhRbknca5JYMUf1WFr4wuP0gF4uvsoNVZ-Y8cZPO4Mau_A1CrQ2f9bGnE9sQ1f1eLDbVipJVCT91rsBNfN-auroAF1d86jIq15DtSaNnkWwpqJVgDuooMd2/s1600/IMG_9041.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>being intentional..... </i>we are stuck together so we may as well like it.<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLIomEtvR3BtIGZMcOFilO2H3jjJnaQRwSDCzoA7dDiVZ55PF_loEL0WTNdjwBdDh0BmYwcdpwNM3ZL8yLLFqs0rJRXoea9qAlTbR75J6-cdniNPJpSARn9mJjUlOmvDKLNJ4A3DVvJZYj/s1600/IMG_9245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLIomEtvR3BtIGZMcOFilO2H3jjJnaQRwSDCzoA7dDiVZ55PF_loEL0WTNdjwBdDh0BmYwcdpwNM3ZL8yLLFqs0rJRXoea9qAlTbR75J6-cdniNPJpSARn9mJjUlOmvDKLNJ4A3DVvJZYj/s1600/IMG_9245.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my brother-in-law finally got married!<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE3mvdyhlt0_NM2BiDxBdwWzfefq-RoXG-V2P_O7a3Lk7daRkXlLkeek_teksl3PCTkoz7-wzVK3sF6x0uO65jaIpfcqEm6ovX3CcAhy_yQXvx4T6jCR2dXWDadWJ1CTz-xIpfcIPQvr7u/s1600/IMG_9674.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE3mvdyhlt0_NM2BiDxBdwWzfefq-RoXG-V2P_O7a3Lk7daRkXlLkeek_teksl3PCTkoz7-wzVK3sF6x0uO65jaIpfcqEm6ovX3CcAhy_yQXvx4T6jCR2dXWDadWJ1CTz-xIpfcIPQvr7u/s1600/IMG_9674.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">b'mona (as we call Ramona) is growing up too fast. she is mobile.<br />she wrestles eli to the ground trying to steal his bagels.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN2BVAekOvM_R4ZSmi0pWBFk6du2AvrMB6unLUlHR459ib-OeNuVVji7EkkDYeyFBicaXDMM7-QaWWhMeBlzkZG6Fvcg14i1vj0npseG9bvq6P4iFP-1hPT9inqEM4nlMV2Re1fpLXlQR5/s1600/IMG_8947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN2BVAekOvM_R4ZSmi0pWBFk6du2AvrMB6unLUlHR459ib-OeNuVVji7EkkDYeyFBicaXDMM7-QaWWhMeBlzkZG6Fvcg14i1vj0npseG9bvq6P4iFP-1hPT9inqEM4nlMV2Re1fpLXlQR5/s1600/IMG_8947.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">some of our best friends and godson are moving away. <br />at least we got one good grill night in!</td></tr>
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Alright, I am off for the night. Hope you all are enjoying the summer.</div>
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<br />sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-42894496755663113102014-05-20T07:32:00.003-07:002014-05-20T07:34:41.782-07:00enslaved. <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Lately I am learning a lot about slavery: Human Trafficking. Women, children, and even men. Forced. With out a choice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">And I feel like my eyes are being opened up to so much. Some very profound things, some very simple things.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">One thing I have been pondering is what I <i>allow</i> myself to be a slave to. All the people I am learning about who are modern day slaves, have no choice. Prostitution. Sweat shops. Desperation. Poverty. Devastation. War.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Me? My life is pretty easy when we're looking at the big picture.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">And I am asking God what I need freedom from.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">And then I feel really stupid. 'Cause it's things like facebook. And sugar. And my bad attitude. A poor body image. Fear of what people think. And my desire for a neat and tidy cute house.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I took facebook off my phone a couple months ago. Before, whenever I had a spare moment I was on the good ol' fb. Checking out what you are making for dinner tonight, how cute your baby was when she woke up this morning, or who was causing drama on the neighborhood facebook page again. Not all of it is pointless. Because I genuinely care when your little boy has had a fever for three days, how your honeymoon was, that you posted a new blog entry or that you're sick of your job... but it's getting in the way. And I could be managing my time better. And ugh. I hate admitting that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I put Facebook back on my phone not too long ago. I manage so much on there.... Like my<a href="https://www.facebook.com/sierrastradesofhope" target="_blank"> Trades of Hope page</a> and our<a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Urban-Collective-Trunk-Show/471731132955365" target="_blank"> Urban Collective Trunk Show page</a>. It's a big source of communication for me and my friends. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Balance. I need to balance it out. I need to be intentional about what I am doing on facebook and not do the mindless scrolling thing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I'm trying to clear out the unnecessary stuff that gets in the way. (I feel like I am <i>ALWAYS </i> in this process.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I want to take away the false comforts that somehow allow me to escape for a moment. It's okay to escape sometimes. But I'm trying to do that by listening to good music or by chatting with my mama or one of my girls.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I think it'll be easier now that we aren't stuck in the house for days at a time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">So, there it is. Our daily battles and slavery to the stupid things overwhelm us at times, but luckily we can claim power and victory over them if we really try.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Daily I am thankful for the freedom we experience. And daily I am reminded of those who suffer, stuck in bondage to circumstances they cannot control.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">On Mother's Day I went to a march for the girls missing from Nigeria. I'll share some of the photos that were posted below.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/RadicalNewsMedia?fref=photo" target="_blank">source</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Heavy stuff on this mamas heart lately. But I believe sometimes we are called to share in the burden of what weighs on the hearts of those around us and all over the world. This slavery issue is what my heart aches for so I continue to press in and figure out what I can do about it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Pray for the missing girls. Pray that slavery ends. It's an overwhelming situation but there are things we can do. </span><br />
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<br />sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-11243972247786118772014-05-19T15:43:00.001-07:002014-05-19T15:43:34.459-07:00be still.<div style="text-align: center;">
This morning I woke up and decided to push aside my bad attitude over it being Monday.</div>
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(<i>It was hard, I had to push really really hard</i>)</div>
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I came downstairs and my husband had made coffee. So that helped.</div>
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Then I went and sat on the porch and I did something that I do not do often enough. I opened up my phone and started my morning by reading today's devotion from my favorite book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Jesus-Calling-Enjoying-Peace-Presence/dp/1591451884" target="_blank"><i>Jesus Calling</i></a>. Here is an excerpt:</div>
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<i>I want you to know how safe and secure you are in My Presence. </i></div>
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<i>that is a fact, totally independent of your feelings...</i></div>
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<i>Although My Presence is a guaranteed promise, that does not necessarily change your feelings. When you forget I am with you,you may experience loneliness or fear. It is through awareness of My Presence that Peace displaces negative feelings. Practice the discipline of walking consciously with Me through each day.</i></div>
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No more than 5 seconds later my 1st grader began to cop an attitude about having to get out the door to the bus stop. Instead of beginning my usual morning speech about how "<i>we all have responsibilities and even though we don't feel like it sometimes, we still have to go to work/school/etc...</i>" I told him I'd walk him out to the bus stop.</div>
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As we walked hand-in-hand I told him that I loved him. That I am proud of him. That God is always with him, even when he is having a hard time at school or when he feels alone or anxious.<br />
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The sun was shining, the air was crisp and it was a perfectly sweet moment.</div>
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As soon as we got to the bus stop he ran over to his friends. Apparently it's not cool to stand at the bus stop holding your mother's hand. When the bus came he sat in the seat the faced me and secretly blew kisses to me until they had passed me by. I love that we got to have a sweet and peaceful beginning to our day.<br />
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On my way back home I was met by Gabriel and Eli coming out of the house. They had dressed themselves and were without shoes. We took a little walk down the block and back.<br />
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<br />
Again, another perfectly sweet moment.<br />
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I know I say it ALL.THE.TIME. This season is oh-so-hard. The whining, the potty accidents, the constant need for snacks, the messes, the fighting, the difficult bedtimes, the long days. I make it harder on myself by trying to do it on my own. My Father God is there beside me the whole time but instead I choose to feel alone in it and to try to take it on by myself.<br />
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I had a new friend over today and she saw my little poster (I saw it on pintrest and recreated, it's not my own design!) She asked me what it meant to me and I had to think for a minute.<br />
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I try to fight through so many of the hard moments on my own, which is dumb. I need to stop. I need to breathe and chill out. I need to seek out how God wants me to deal with it. I need to acknowledge that He is there, ready to fight the battle for me. Whether the battle is a whiny kid, an unexpected expense, a fight with my husband or someone close disappointing me: I need to be still and allow Him to take it on.<br />
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Be still. Be still. Be still. I think this is what God is trying to show me in this season.<br />
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A few months ago it would've been my dad's birthday. It was a hard week, I missed him so much. There was a necklace at Groundswell that had been on display for a long time. I knew I needed it.<br />
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I wear it almost everyday. Just as a reminder.<br />
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Alright, well, here's to p<span style="text-align: center;">racticing the discipline of walking consciously with Him through each day.</span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;">Be encouraged. </span></div>
sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-86991862175560820482014-03-11T14:24:00.001-07:002014-03-11T14:24:34.565-07:00Once in a while I am right. Last week Maximo came rushing through the front door as he usually does after school. It's usually because he is about to pee in his pants.<br />
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This day was different though.<br />
He swung open the door with a look of sheer terror screaming that a kid from the bus was going to punch him in the face.<br />
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I'm not one to over react. But my inner mama bear began to rise up and I asked if it was a kid from the bus stop. Yep it was. Max lead the way as I went and stuck my head out the front door and looked down at the bus stop. There were some kids out there and I hollered over to them "what happened?" They all hollered back that *dude said he was going to punch Max. Then they started hollering down the street at *dude telling him to come over here and talk to me. Matt over heard the situation and stormed out of the driveway ahead of me. So I followed. In my bright green crocs and SAHM yoga pants. (And no coat since was a balmy 22 degrees out.)<br />
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When we got to the corner, fifth grade *dude was half way down the block walking a little girl home from the bus stop. I know this kid isn't a bad kid (he is employed by the little girl's mom to walk her home each day) and I also know that Maximo is notorious for annoying older kids on the bus.<br />
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I didn't know what I was going to say, and that's when I ask Jesus to give me the right words.<br />
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It is so important for us to be in relationship with our neighbors, even the <strike>punk ass</strike> neighbor kids who threaten my boy. So I knew that I was about to set the foundation for how these boys see me.<br />
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I was surprised when dude walked back over to where we were. By this time Matt had gone back home to Gabriel, Eli and Tya after seeing that everything was going to be alright.<br />
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So here I was with Maximo, *dude and his little kindergartner, and the other two 5th grade boys that were loving to be all up in their business.<br />
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I just asked what happened. *Dude said Max was bothering him, and he got fed up, and so he told Max he was "gonna punch him." I felt *dude's pain. Max does stuff that makes me <strike>want to punch him in the face</strike> irritated too. I explained that although Max looks older, that he is six. *Dude and his friends were surprised. They thought max was 9. I just explained that we are working on how Max needs to not bother people, and that he is still learning how to ride on the bus since this is his first year doing it. All I did was help to create some empathy. I told him that I understood why he said that to Max, because he was frustrated, but that it doesn't feel good to me to see my boy run home, afraid.<br />
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I explained that we are all neighbors and that we gotta look out for each other. I explained that in a few years Max would mature and grow up a little and that he'd be out with them in the summer playing basketball and riding skate boards (with helmets of course...). The boys nodded and agreed. I told them all that if there is <i>ever</i> any issues with Max, to come and talk to me and Matt, that we want to hear them out and help solve it instead of threats being thrown around.<br />
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I love living in the city. I love that Max is around kids of all ages and from all different backgrounds and I truly hope that Max get's to be these boys' equal someday. That they are shooting hoops in our backyard and hanging out with my boy.<br />
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I hope I get to be the cool mom that everyone trusts. I want to have a heart big enough for even the toughest boys (mine included).<br />
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Today I watched for Max from the front door as he skipped all the way home with a big smile on his face. He walked in the door and said "MOM! You were right. Those boys are my friends now!" He explained that they all had a snow ball fight and the big boys were nice to him. I told him "isn't that cool? That when you treat them like a friend instead of annoying them on the bus, that they actually get to enjoy your friendship?!"<br />
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Once in a while I <i>am</i> right I guess.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maybe I wasn't so right when thinking it was okay to<br />wear my green crocs out in public.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My big (little) 6 1/2 year old trying to figure out his way in the world.</td></tr>
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<br />sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-42255848132079189612014-02-25T08:44:00.001-08:002014-02-25T08:50:34.284-08:00don't wait until the timing is perfectYesterday I was talking about having <a href="http://sierramadres.blogspot.com/2014/02/faith-like-yellow-mansion.html" target="_blank">faith like a yellow mansion</a> and dreaming big dreams. Another thing on my heart a few weeks ago was learning to <a href="http://sierramadres.blogspot.com/2014/01/learning-to-have-voice.html" target="_blank">be brave</a>.<br />
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You all know by now that I'm passionate about the fight against sex trafficking. The more I learn about it, the more fired up I get. I am so excited Ito figure out how God is going to use me to help, rescue, support and give hope. </div>
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I hope one day that our family gets to adopt in to our family a daughter. I have been reading about how general age of entrance into sex trafficking in the U.S. is like 12-14 years! Most of these girls are runaways, or are from the foster care system and in homes that are not safe. They just need strong families and people who are going to love them and protect them. I want one of those girls. I want to rescue her before she is even faced with that danger. Or I want us to take a girl in that has already been chewed up and spit out. A girl that is in pieces and that needs a strong mama, dad and family that will help to put her back together. I want us to get to show her real, unconditional, safe love. To love her like God does. I want to help her realize her value, worth and true beauty.</div>
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Crazy right? I even think it's crazy. This is one of the dreams that when I ask Matt if it freaks him out he tells me "nope."</div>
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It seems so far away. </div>
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So what to do until then?</div>
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Learn more. Pray more. Be the best mom possible to the kids in my care <i>now</i>.</div>
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I am attending two events in the next month. One is called Freedom Weekend and you can read about it more <a href="http://www.traffickingjustice.com/Freedom-Weekend-2014.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
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The other is a volunteer training and informational meeting with <a href="http://www.breakingfree.net/" target="_blank">Breaking Free</a> at the Roseville Library on March 5th from 6-8. If you are interested in joining me and learning more about this organization, register at <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">volunteers@breakingfree.net.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Another thing I am doing in the meantime, is my <a href="http://www.mytradesofhope.com/sierrahegstrom" target="_blank">Trades of Hope business</a>. I'm learning to be a voice. I am learning how to raise awareness. I am meeting people all the time who want to help make a difference too. It's a simple way that I get to make a difference <i>now</i>. It's a way that I get to be useful <i>now</i>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">People, we can't wait until the timing is perfect to move and to start to help. If there is a cause that you feel called to help with, find a small tangible way that you can help <i>now</i>. Don't wait. </span></span></div>
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sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-11900732673348401162014-02-24T17:44:00.001-08:002014-02-24T17:44:31.864-08:00faith like a yellow mansionYou know that verse in the bible about having faith like a mustard seed?<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"... Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Matthew 17:20</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Five years ago life looked a lot different. Matt, Maximo and </span>myself<span style="font-family: inherit;"> were living with my parents in a great big house out in Inver Grove Heights. We really enjoyed living with them and when they began talking about selling the great big house and moving in to the city, we all decided that we should all find a house together. Fox 9 news even did a story on us, a news guys and camera man interviewed us and followed us around on one of the showings we went to. I was bummed when I went to look it up, I wanted to share the clip on here, but it is no longer available to view. They did have a short article that you can see <a href="http://www.myfoxtwincities.com/story/17645671/survey-more-multi-generational-housing" target="_blank">here</a> if you want.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Everyone sort of thought that we were nuts. Why would we want to live that close to our family? It just worked for us. </span></div>
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My mom spent many nights staying up late looking on-line at different houses and she came across a HUGE mansion for sale in the Crocus Hill neighborhood in St. Paul. We went and saw it. It was amazing. It had been transformed into a group home so it was perfectly split down the middle. Aside from the fact that the power didn't work on the upper level and it was super spooky and super institutional looking with bright neon EXIT signs and eerie hallways and hidden stair cases, the house was AMAZING. It had like nine bedrooms, two kitchens, at least four bathrooms, etc. etc. etc. It needed a ton of work and was double what our budget was for a house, but we began truly believing that if God wanted us to have the house, that it could happen. My mom and I began saying "we just need to have faith like a <strike>mustard seed</strike> yellow mansion.<br />
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When we scheduled a showing for the house we brought our whole crew: my best friend, my dad's best friend (Warren, Matt's dad), Matt's mom, and a few other friends with re-modeling experience. They all thought we were nuts. The house needed a lot of work, but we saw the bigger picture: that if God wanted us here, he'd make it work. We envisioned where our rooms were going to be, what it would look like when we took down a few walls, how we would build a garage in the back and make ministry retreat rooms above it, how we would finish the attic and hold gatherings up there. It was going to be so cool.<br />
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Needless to say, it never worked out. The house was sold to someone else and what we all got from it was: "well? It was fun to dream!" A few months later I happened to drive by and they were gutting the house and fixing it up. The curb was full of old furniture and things from inside the house just waiting to be gathered up by the garbage collectors. And yes I pulled over and crammed a chair and old mirror in my trunk. Wanna see it? Here's a link I found: <a href="http://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/513-Portland-Ave_Saint-Paul_MN_55102_M72714-65094" target="_blank">513 Portland Ave.</a><br />
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God knew what the future held, and that it wouldn't have worked out. That Dad was going to die just six months later and that life was about to drastically change.<br />
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It's been a while since I have really had huge dreams about huge things happening. After my dad died I think I stopped hoping and dreaming for big huge out-of-the-box miracles. I wanted to protect my heart, so I started having low expectations so that no matter what happened I wouldn't get hurt if things didn't turn out the way I wanted them to.<br />
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My life is full of miracles. Miracles I don't even recognize.<br />
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I want to have my eyes open to them again. I don't want to be surprised when they take place anymore. I want to expect the best. I want to dream big again.<br />
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My dreams scare me these days. Not in a bad way, in a <i>good</i> way. And the best part about it, is that when I talk about them with my husband, he isn't scared at all.<br />
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I want to have faith like a yellow mustard seed. And I'm tellin' those mountains to move.</div>
sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-70052023839558985462014-02-17T14:22:00.000-08:002014-02-19T17:45:06.350-08:00the case for quiet.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I. am. so. tired. of. all. the. LOUD.<br />
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It has been a freakishly long and cold winter here in Minnesota. And we are only half way through February. Last year we were still getting snow in <i>May.</i><br />
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I'm trying to remain calm. I am trying to be positive. But this has been rough.<br />
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Gabriel will be four in April. He has had a rough last couple of years. A week before he turned two it began. His "terrible twos" hit hard and have not loosened up since. He is a whole lot of emotions and tears and passion and strong will wrapped up in to one little fragile body. He's so sensitive. There are days that I don't feel that I can handle one more minute of the constant whining, crying, and his daily "I HATE YOU"s. He is easy to love but so hard to handle sometimes.<br />
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So I yell. And I hate it. I<i> try</i> to keep my cool. I <i>try</i> to speak gently and quietly. But <strike><i>I can't</i></strike> it's hard. Oh so hard. And I justify it by feeling like it's better to be harsh with my <i>tone</i> than with my <i>hands</i>... 'cause OH MY GOSH I want to get harsh with my hands. And sometimes I do. I hate admitting it.<br />
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It's just that I want a few moments of quiet. And for some <i>strange </i>reason my hollering at the kids for a little bit of quiet doesn't work....<br />
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My days are filled with (quiet) swears + prayers.</div>
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God gets it. He understands. And he loves me even when I am weary and tired.</div>
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Swears when my smoothie spills all over and the kids walked through the house with sloppy snowy boots. Swears when there is red lipstick on the couch pillows and the carpet because Eli gets in to my red lipstick again.<br />
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Prayers when I am grateful that Gabriel didn't totally wipe out when he missed the last step, and when I'm thankful that he fell asleep on the couch while watching Curious George. Prayers when I feel like I am about to lose it over spilled milk. Prayers that spring comes quick and that Matt gets home soon.<br />
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Being a mom means that <strike>sometimes</strike> <i>most of the time</i> our happiness or need for quiet doesn't matter. We just gotta stick it through. And we can't holler and yell just because we aren't getting our way. When we are in the thick of raising the littles, we gotta remain loving, selfless, and intentional about how we speak to them. Ouch. I have so much room for improvement in this area. </div>
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I read a few interesting articles today and yesterday. I got some good stuff out of each. Here they are in case you are interested:</div>
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<i><a href="http://www.janetlansbury.com/2013/02/i-think-i-know-why-youre-yelling/" target="_blank">I Think I Know Why You're Yelling</a></i></div>
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<i><a href="http://www.mamaeve.com/effective-discipline/my-children-are-people/" target="_blank">My children are people</a></i></div>
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So whether you were home with kids too, or driving on the icky snow today, hope you are surviving this Presidents day, and that you are finding hope and light in the midst of it all.<br />
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His mercies are new every morning.<br />
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<br />sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-83357291440137289142014-02-11T14:06:00.005-08:002014-02-11T14:06:54.436-08:00A little encouragement from a fellow mamaI met Bridget 12 years and one month ago when I arrived at <a href="http://lovehopemercy.org/ministries-esperanza-viva.asp" target="_blank">Esperanza Viva</a> as a young girl on a mission to serve Puebla, Mexico's little orphans. My first room assignement was with Bridget and 12 little girls under 8 years old. We loved each other like best friends and fought like sisters. We had a million inside jokes and a hundred times we disagreed over something or another. We teased each other over cute boys, our home towns, and our lack of fashion sense out on the mission field. Many nights we stayed up way too late crying and laughing together as we talked for hours. We co-parented many children together, held each other accountable and were a huge support to one another... and we had <i>a lot </i>of fun that year.<br />
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Now as the years have passed, we are still close. Just last year <a href="http://sierramadres.blogspot.com/2013/09/swearsprayers.html" target="_blank">she was able to finally make it to Minnesota</a> with her family. Our husbands and children got to meet. It was a total dream come true.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twelve of us successfully sat around that table and had a few meals together, slept under the<br />same roof and even got a long for three whole days!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6MKXORBoOjsWmLBbQ5qC_sNkjo-c_pX5QgOKjg25RUnYGpItd4czdOZAhj40mcShERWC85s51nNtBHeIr0cN5XeWKW3HhJliLvqVmgcuPT03HmILgyCIF4SF8xe9UkRKGiFIRU6Hyqdy/s1600/IMG_2951.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6MKXORBoOjsWmLBbQ5qC_sNkjo-c_pX5QgOKjg25RUnYGpItd4czdOZAhj40mcShERWC85s51nNtBHeIr0cN5XeWKW3HhJliLvqVmgcuPT03HmILgyCIF4SF8xe9UkRKGiFIRU6Hyqdy/s1600/IMG_2951.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This sweet thang stole my heart (little Gracie)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZBDq4bKE8vGrP5gVKzDzXZ70Po6OJBmLTAHGc7Tk4uV1khJjsgrMMu2_cQPqsCHfVltlg0zywunx0jY-H213dXfMocraZ9sMV8IjOD2ITEN-PA3xfz2Qz7jzBBI0sHAwqADnxFHdiH03/s1600/IMG_2985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZBDq4bKE8vGrP5gVKzDzXZ70Po6OJBmLTAHGc7Tk4uV1khJjsgrMMu2_cQPqsCHfVltlg0zywunx0jY-H213dXfMocraZ9sMV8IjOD2ITEN-PA3xfz2Qz7jzBBI0sHAwqADnxFHdiH03/s1600/IMG_2985.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hers and mine. Add one niece and minus Max <br />(who was too cool for the picture since he had a little crush on said niece <br />pictured in the middle)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgup_2Q7_SJq8YKjHv2CFI5ruBe2OxuP-7UQiTMwe6FaetCSBCDNMdYjBUcXAx2vjQPXUBYt89GrOnywfbYQCLCwotsXmVYtuZSjUo-fNJZbwYvJd6-T8gzKe3P4Fcn7sg8YOFchMieF-I6/s1600/IMG_2968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgup_2Q7_SJq8YKjHv2CFI5ruBe2OxuP-7UQiTMwe6FaetCSBCDNMdYjBUcXAx2vjQPXUBYt89GrOnywfbYQCLCwotsXmVYtuZSjUo-fNJZbwYvJd6-T8gzKe3P4Fcn7sg8YOFchMieF-I6/s1600/IMG_2968.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bridget and her handsome Miguel</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbSDzoKP2bYTtYpcfoXAmoDOd4sdMAULLBB247xkvx32CxClovIgo15ww2-Qx1mej2IOybyKCq21YzT0YYt1Lh6_qPEhykYhyphenhyphenfMLY3Gw6hFZFAXCom7R6_YFfc5dK7zV-TK8l2cubLTi0c/s1600/IMG_2978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbSDzoKP2bYTtYpcfoXAmoDOd4sdMAULLBB247xkvx32CxClovIgo15ww2-Qx1mej2IOybyKCq21YzT0YYt1Lh6_qPEhykYhyphenhyphenfMLY3Gw6hFZFAXCom7R6_YFfc5dK7zV-TK8l2cubLTi0c/s1600/IMG_2978.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my hermana</td></tr>
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Bridget and I check in on Facebook regularly. Sometimes it's a cry of desperation on the rough days, and sometimes it's excitement over happy things.<br />
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She contacted me last week with a guest post. Enjoy!<br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #666666;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Parenting is hard. We already knew that. Some days some people's kids make the day especially hard. Some seasons it feels like one little person (kid... 2 year old boy, you fill in the blank) makes it his or her goal to make every day a little harder for us as moms. </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">So today was one of those days. One shenanigan after another. One mess to clean up, including diaper messes, after another. One correction after another. One whine after another. In the midst of it, I started to rant to my little tribe (4 of them, two boys and two girls, to be exact) about how they were just "making this harder for mommy".... And I reached out for a truth in God's word that made the light bulb flick on in my head.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><i><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /></i></span>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #666666;"><i>Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>and I will give you rest. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>for I am gentle and lowly in heart, </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>and you will find rest for your souls. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #666666;"><i>(Matthew 11:25, 28-30 ESV)</i></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: #666666;"><i><br /></i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: #666666;"><i>While I am spending a lot of time pointing the finger at the kiddies and saying how they make it all harder, Jesus says to come to Him and learn from Him .....and find rest for our souls ....and that His yoke is easy, and His burden is light. Hanging out with Jesus will make a hard day easier, not harder. It will be restful, and not a heavy burden. Such truth! </i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for sharing your heart Bridget. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">Be encouraged mamas.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If you would like to hear about how Bridget and her husband are </span>continuing<span style="font-family: inherit;"> to serve the youth of Esperanza Viva, click <i style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://lovehopemercy.org/giving-international-support.asp" target="_blank">here </a></i>and then select the fourth picture over)</span></span>sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-67814314159382969752014-02-10T19:22:00.001-08:002014-02-10T19:22:13.766-08:00Too Cool For Naps...As of late, most of the children in my care during the day-time hours are feeling too cool for nap times.<br />
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We'll start with "Miss Thang", "baby booty", "bebe mona"..... (just a few nick names we have for this little one that joined the daily crew at the Hegstrom house.) Meet my LP's baby girl. Remember when I <a href="http://sierramadres.blogspot.com/2013/06/mama-you-are-beautiful-emily.html" target="_blank">did a post about her with her cute little pregnant belly</a>? Well her daughter sleeps perfectly for her mother and father. PER-FECT-LY. Like 12 hours straight through the night PERFECT. So then she sleeps for me NE-VER. I ain't even mad at ya 'mona. As long as you remain perfect for my lp.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjPVy87PS9n7SzyA9rzJmOec-RfrS84RIM_nlKMmwQ-KHgA36QAyuaSNuKux2y_5IqMTE4Xh_aVrwGbboPwr7jnhHoBDWe2ec4qrkCYxAYHZrChCda-zkVTLS61v0Ik2ZrC8kjubZBhQkO/s1600/IMG_6714%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjPVy87PS9n7SzyA9rzJmOec-RfrS84RIM_nlKMmwQ-KHgA36QAyuaSNuKux2y_5IqMTE4Xh_aVrwGbboPwr7jnhHoBDWe2ec4qrkCYxAYHZrChCda-zkVTLS61v0Ik2ZrC8kjubZBhQkO/s1600/IMG_6714%5B1%5D.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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Gabriel quit naps long ago, but in the fall he fell back in to a little bit of a routine just because I'd lay down with him and bribe him with cookies or a movie if he would just close his eyes for 10 minutes.... and usually it worked 'cause he'd pass out by the 8th minute. Don't judge. And it doesn't even work anymore anyway. Bummer.<br />
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Eli has refused for the last two weeks. He is sooooo over sleeping in a crib, but he is tiny, and a crib is what ya get when there isn't a bigger bed for you yet. So get over it pal. <i>No you get over it Sierra. </i>Okay fine. skip it. But then he was just falling asleep while watching our daily afternoon viewing of Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2.<br />
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And then last week, something happened when little boys were tired but fought with all their might to skip naps.<br />
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They fell asleep having major temper tantrums. </div>
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So here is Gabe who refused to eat his delicious and creamy potato soup (complete with bacon and cheese). He wanted more bacon. We said no. He screamed and yelled. Then fell asleep at 6:30 pm.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5CwOgURsx1MOGwCLphmrH1w15Hfn7xNtGtXHOZrGiWvgnHvpNKgn8wCYJCUdSAZ0OKurLl2Tr99WfZ3jbKBJNOT2TV_1UKbViCCXfdnS0VhmLp65_TA6OD7KzdQgLO1UlFIQ0AUaTYLX4/s1600/IMG_6709%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5CwOgURsx1MOGwCLphmrH1w15Hfn7xNtGtXHOZrGiWvgnHvpNKgn8wCYJCUdSAZ0OKurLl2Tr99WfZ3jbKBJNOT2TV_1UKbViCCXfdnS0VhmLp65_TA6OD7KzdQgLO1UlFIQ0AUaTYLX4/s1600/IMG_6709%5B1%5D.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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And here is Eli. Passed out over something, I don't even know what. And yes, these are the same pajamas that he fell asleep on Ronan in the day before. My kid wore pajamas (the <i>SAME</i> pajamas) two days in a row. Don't judge. And yes, we got a dog. Didn't I tell you?</div>
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And then the next day, again, a major-snot-and-tears-all-over-the-face, screaming, yelling all-out melt down at 3:30pm. Out. Face-down.</div>
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Eli is 2 1/2 years old. His terrible two's only rear their ugly head about once a day. It's exhausting for him. Poor guy.<br />
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The constant Minnesota cold is making all of us a little crazy and irrational. It's been a billion below zero for days and days. There has been many MANY days I wish I coulda just buried my face into the floor and cried myself to sleep. ugh. I can't wait for spring. We need to be able to go outside.<br />
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Tomorrow will be my first attempt at mom's group with all four kiddos. Send this girl a prayer or two. 'kay thanks.<br />
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Sorry this was a boring post. i kinda just wanted to show off the funny pictures of my sleeping kiddos. Yeah. I use the word "kiddo" LP.... sorry. You will too one day.sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-20710621050321109662014-01-30T17:54:00.001-08:002014-01-30T18:02:55.213-08:00...how things were supposed to be<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">A
friend of mine posted this today on Facebook and it struck me.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I don't really agree that our
perfect pictures are what screw us up <i>the most</i>. But. They <b><i>can</i></b> screw
us up pretty bad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was talking to a new
friend last night about a season I was in a few years ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">With toddlers and a brand new baby.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>All I did </i>was nurse. Peel wrappers off of string cheese.
Fill sippy cups. Change diapers. Cut crusts off sandwiches. Wash dishes. All
while husband was <i>getting</i> to go out and work, have a ministry life,
having contact with adults and getting to leave the house everyday.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There were many
days that I was mad (or maybe just jealous?) That wasn’t what I had signed up for. When we got
married I was in school to fulfill my dream of being a marriage and family
therapist. I wanted to change lives and help people. I was going to pick my
babes up from daycare and bring home a paycheck. I didn't have plans to be a stay-at-home-mom. I had done my time as a nanny. I did my time raising kids as big
sister in a big family and then for a year as a volunteer in Mexico mothering 14
little girls. I couldn't wait to be a working mama.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So I was pissed.
'Cause this was <i>not </i>how it was supposed to be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And a couple years before that... marriage. Mine
was <i>not</i> how marriage was <i>supposed</i> to be. I had a husband that
suffered severely from depression, anxiety and years of heavy baggage. He found
every way possible to escape the hardships of our marriage. Video games,
internet... etc. etc. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We were a mess. We almost called it
quits. This was <i>not </i>how it was supposed to be.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New';">I feel like so many things in life </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="color: #999999;">disappoint us because they contradict the ideas and
expectations that we still hold from childhood: pictures of what our lives were
supposed to look like when we grew up.<b> </b></span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Luckily, it
is deeply embedded in my utmost being that I am a long suffering and merci<i>ful </i>fighter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So
I persevered - got through those early years of being lonely, at home, and stuck
25 minutes outside of the city. But now? My world has opened up and it is expanding
as my children get older and my husband continues to encourage my personal
growth and new opportunities. I'm doing things now that I never would have imagined I'd be doing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I
fought hard for my marriage and for my husband. Thank God I did. Our marriage
is so strong now. And we have three amazing kids that would never have entered
into the world had we not worked through the messiness and muck of hard marital
circumstances. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKEu0kAeUKPiVxsxMqXpxw4hIu9n1xsCnffoiJjWCmYFWV6iCgdxaGbHVIKE2MgZOwn4F13CLe6oi8wr6qi7chFeIa9fBXHfQoObvz6N6W6D3_Zs_Rp2KiNijVykv4P8g0JNgTNHZ0cvh2/s1600/2012-09-17+17.33.11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKEu0kAeUKPiVxsxMqXpxw4hIu9n1xsCnffoiJjWCmYFWV6iCgdxaGbHVIKE2MgZOwn4F13CLe6oi8wr6qi7chFeIa9fBXHfQoObvz6N6W6D3_Zs_Rp2KiNijVykv4P8g0JNgTNHZ0cvh2/s1600/2012-09-17+17.33.11.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So.
Bottom line (if you are asking me) ?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Get
rid of the pictures in your head of how things were <i>supposed </i>to
be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Work
with what you got. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So. Just wanted to share what was on my mind today. What are your thoughts?</span></div>
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sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-12374111533010198612014-01-30T11:37:00.000-08:002014-01-30T11:37:39.454-08:00A guest post.<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It's funny. This week two of my friends have contacted me with the desire to share on my blog. I'm generous (and have been too busy to blog out my thoughts lately) so I said "YES PLEASE!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">One of my friends is Steph. She just texted me yesterday and said "I got a post for you." and I agreed to post it. She e-mailed it to me. Then I read it. Then I cried. She told me that I could change it. She told me that I could edit it and take out the swear word.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">This is hard for me to post, because when I said "yes" I had no idea what it was going to be about. As I read it my heart burst with love. My friend loves me. And she knows that I love her. I have never read anything like this before. No one has ever typed out these descriptions of me, especially for me to read. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEePgRFJsMzdO2Nn5gLTZPrAQ1Q8JNjkMotpMJYHCDI163dYE-aysbRCHNNBcOSvMztWuWFe13c5Mq0ETmHSUR-7w5NoKVBC998H1sf5QKFQdmmARaEidh0LLODa6ciKcgC1CWj5oPV-qM/s1600/2012-09-24+21.20.42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEePgRFJsMzdO2Nn5gLTZPrAQ1Q8JNjkMotpMJYHCDI163dYE-aysbRCHNNBcOSvMztWuWFe13c5Mq0ETmHSUR-7w5NoKVBC998H1sf5QKFQdmmARaEidh0LLODa6ciKcgC1CWj5oPV-qM/s1600/2012-09-24+21.20.42.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I'm deciding to post it <strike>because she is forcing me to</strike> because I want to show you that when you make the effort to pour in to friends and loved ones, it makes a huge impact, and if you are lucky, they will pour back in to you... which Steph has done on so many occasions. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">She really is the octopus that stays stuck on my face. </span><br />
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The “Friend” everyone should have…</div>
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It all started with a couple of little boys who have been friends for over 30 years. Matt and Mike are our husbands, and it just so happens that nothing will ever bust them apart. They’re brothers. They’ve been through the good, the bad, and the ugly…just as real brothers should. So it goes that as their wives, we (me and Sierra) are expected to get along and hang out.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvTGzJLrgkXvfbrR0TZ9ijbUalsXQxO3juKCozDxcgwM7XOJwOah2frFviBEf-LboNPn0bnkNA3zXLJf2OtcMMSMzKd_wKLO_o2okWmjdSePFktjTim9jOL4nsyhHS75CPSMcl6G3hyrM/s1600/2013-07-05+20.11.03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvTGzJLrgkXvfbrR0TZ9ijbUalsXQxO3juKCozDxcgwM7XOJwOah2frFviBEf-LboNPn0bnkNA3zXLJf2OtcMMSMzKd_wKLO_o2okWmjdSePFktjTim9jOL4nsyhHS75CPSMcl6G3hyrM/s1600/2013-07-05+20.11.03.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the husbands</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVwIGGyK_tdXDl-YZjVqX75nFAdOsUUXE49cucB3IIra0YshSluj1d7K8m4XrXnht4vqm56cOBbGy7HAYRqf_-hUYBk7DbBbYQ7PIOVDq8tjgQZ8AFiiwqG4P2mQbbOfnk7M3DF_ujBlR4/s1600/2013-07-05+20.11.13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVwIGGyK_tdXDl-YZjVqX75nFAdOsUUXE49cucB3IIra0YshSluj1d7K8m4XrXnht4vqm56cOBbGy7HAYRqf_-hUYBk7DbBbYQ7PIOVDq8tjgQZ8AFiiwqG4P2mQbbOfnk7M3DF_ujBlR4/s1600/2013-07-05+20.11.13.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the wives</td></tr>
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So we did. We got together and hung out. We went to the movies, we grilled out in their backyard, we even went camping together. Though when we would talk about each other it was always, “Matt’s best friend’s wife…” or “Mike’s wifey” and so our friendship began. You know, one of those, friendship by marriage kind of things. Except that it wasn’t. When I moved to the Twin Cities, she was pretty much my ONLY friend here, and was she really my friend, or was she simply “Matt’s wife”?</div>
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So she has this thing with all her friends where they all have a special name. There’s her BFF, who from I can tell is her best friend. But then there’s her LP (Life Partner) and from what I can tell, she’s her best friend. And then there’s her Seester, which you guessed it, is probably her best friend. Let’s just put it this way: SO many women think Sierra is her best friend, that there are probably a dozen half-heart necklaces in her jewelry box, if you know what I mean. The girl gets around. </div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21.299999237060547px;">ANYWAY-</span><br />
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I could never figure out how I fit into the friend equation. She knows some of the deepest, darkest <s>shit </s>stuff that I have ever been through, and she makes me feel like her only friend in the world (that’s how her light shines on you). Yet, I have met so many of her friends and she is not possessive in the slightest.</div>
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So what DO you call a friend like this??</div>
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A friend that will make YOU dinner even though she has 3 of her own kids and watches 2 more during the day, and oh yeah, "I just painted my living room while I was making you soup."</div>
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A friend that just calls and says, “I have Ben and Jerry’s in my freezer and you can come whenever you want.”</div>
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A friend that will spend a year praying with you faithfully every Sunday that you will have the baby of your dreams…</div>
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A friend that hosts a legit cocktail party at her house and then proceeds to make you hot, doing your hair and makeup, before other guests arrive…cause did I tell you that she could do hair professionally? She’s that good. And she wants YOU to look hot.</div>
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A friend that shows up at the hospital at 10 o’clock at night to be with you after you just gave birth. Then breaks the news that your mom was just in a car accident leaving the hospital….but don’t worry, it’ll be fine, just a fender bender, your husband’s taking care of her. Oh, and did I mention she convinced the nurse to give me a mixed drink and then proceeded to teach me how to breastfeed until 1 am when my husband got back. Yes. That kind of a friend.</div>
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A friend that listens when you call her hysterically crying about your <s>dumb</s> awesome husband, family drama, or how much breastfeeding REALLY FRICKIN' hurts.</div>
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A friend that if you don’t call her for a month, she’s not secretly holding a grudge against you (ain't nobody got time for that and she knows it).</div>
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A friend that is now the godmother of my sweet baby boy…</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwUW0QAP4ORAf8dyaAr_2bQeQIF1IuHgOfmYj8sBM3q-lAxZS1iYiKR1Z6sie9oQ_PvJE1sLqiEuRRZ-cclCByKfX0PJmXQvOZltIpyfLy0bpzRYcdK8Li0Xf2Mk2MyuLB3x47p1cITHLy/s1600/2013-11-23+12.08.10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwUW0QAP4ORAf8dyaAr_2bQeQIF1IuHgOfmYj8sBM3q-lAxZS1iYiKR1Z6sie9oQ_PvJE1sLqiEuRRZ-cclCByKfX0PJmXQvOZltIpyfLy0bpzRYcdK8Li0Xf2Mk2MyuLB3x47p1cITHLy/s1600/2013-11-23+12.08.10.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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A friend that stands strong for her brothers and sister after her dad died and they lost their house.</div>
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A friend that loves Jesus, loves her kids, loves her husband, and will love on you- no matter what.</div>
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She’s Sierra. She’s my friend, and really, the friend that everyone should have.</div>
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sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-38847085650288625332014-01-07T08:02:00.000-08:002014-01-08T19:08:40.225-08:00A few findings in my cozy little casita<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXeyvmCHeymzApKxeMWGPCFRTsrB16HRErHmyTjKBiwzTM5tMPu4MtNv9KzQxDRKa34vhh7jogxyrlhysdi4J1VQaGThAoFiuXXjTxZWC20NocGSjTQbSGiuu1smba8e7JywLedzQ2yj0X/s1600/IMG_6069%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></div>
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Well we are just about done with the unbelievably chilly cold front that just swept through the good ol' MN. </div>
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I feel so fortunate to have a warm house.</div>
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Just before it hit we spent an afternoon sledding near our house with some of our favorite neighbors. While Eli slept and daddy cleaned the basement at home, Maximo, Gabriel and I walked through the snowy streets to the park near our house. See kids? I <i>am </i>a fun and nice mom <i>sometimes.</i></div>
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<img height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJGQ3risGfSn8ZPieaGANHzlplU8REU5dXwl-gPV7QVukTEVtb7aa0es59TaG2jpNAfMSNpMDqRMuB0CuxrvGpbYLreoOVxO95WVWWkKwv4xD4ufzVbhyphenhyphenGJrsSdy-ejBJd-orwyfSlYlXy/s1600/IMG_6083%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></div>
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Over the last few weeks with holidays and numerous gatherings of friends and family at our house, I enjoyed making my house feel warm and welcoming for my loved ones. </div>
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I spend most of my time on our main level. So that is where I spend the most time decorating and cleaning. I love changing up the decor when the season's change. Recently my friend did a class about finding her decor style. I don't know what mine is, but I know that everything that I display is meaningful, has a purpose or just makes me feel happy. Here are a few updates of the findings in my cozy casita.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtUChO6WrBkk2_ns6ZP0iJHipIZzHPd17sWy9ufqRAxbJsEQrOXcZ0EbhPCxyhtuC0R-9YaXxm0ziGtPk9dxM5mGfyCrrnhhyapMEOfUWwyw-YGDaD5HMVRZlELVAWzD8MwE4xzumxqq27/s1600/IMG_6265%5B2%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtUChO6WrBkk2_ns6ZP0iJHipIZzHPd17sWy9ufqRAxbJsEQrOXcZ0EbhPCxyhtuC0R-9YaXxm0ziGtPk9dxM5mGfyCrrnhhyapMEOfUWwyw-YGDaD5HMVRZlELVAWzD8MwE4xzumxqq27/s1600/IMG_6265%5B2%5D.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a tea cup and saucer from my friend, Halie's wedding last year. <br />
The beehive candle is from my neighbor Amy.<br />
The greenery is from my mama.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3t1smZV1OurHS0HZ_Ewpz1p0x83MAi10pdldMadquKcjXm9Gu6SgLCvNgyzbT7hGEs0vRp-qNA9hqezeZfuSrCJwVbB6-V2VOKv_4VlpLYH7ukM08pD1lI2xDcvQ9z4XpiTHyygDSGZkd/s1600/IMG_6235%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3t1smZV1OurHS0HZ_Ewpz1p0x83MAi10pdldMadquKcjXm9Gu6SgLCvNgyzbT7hGEs0vRp-qNA9hqezeZfuSrCJwVbB6-V2VOKv_4VlpLYH7ukM08pD1lI2xDcvQ9z4XpiTHyygDSGZkd/s1600/IMG_6235%5B1%5D.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I sure love little plants. <br />
The cider jug is an antique my MIL found among abandoned items in an elderly neighbor's home.<br />
Dipped pine cones from a Christmas season project.<br />
Our neighbor got us the wooden manikin for Christmas. Reminds me of the one my parents had.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibY0s1-4oqpCKILT-3HOvsdg30vHkwToAHqVz3oR6ZqiOn_l2PRSeDNKFS1OYAXyK3RqHlOQX3aBao194Rq1v7l4tm6zbhSf6z6AYTmzPdpUz8ZC5_1UhRfmAKRKatzWVijl0zQpy8xcD7/s1600/IMG_6236%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibY0s1-4oqpCKILT-3HOvsdg30vHkwToAHqVz3oR6ZqiOn_l2PRSeDNKFS1OYAXyK3RqHlOQX3aBao194Rq1v7l4tm6zbhSf6z6AYTmzPdpUz8ZC5_1UhRfmAKRKatzWVijl0zQpy8xcD7/s1600/IMG_6236%5B1%5D.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More and more... </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQ0XXkbVD6n_2tljiIV4rcYkDfSa-kFW7ixTCj2RkGGpTtblI7HQ1lg9Br-rnHrrLBlv-SiCK82wGoejeJ9ltTRRD_ntOzMCosSieT463uBgYIp64HZ7jEDYUvmhr-oz2KFRd7KFXOy0x/s1600/IMG_6237%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAQ0XXkbVD6n_2tljiIV4rcYkDfSa-kFW7ixTCj2RkGGpTtblI7HQ1lg9Br-rnHrrLBlv-SiCK82wGoejeJ9ltTRRD_ntOzMCosSieT463uBgYIp64HZ7jEDYUvmhr-oz2KFRd7KFXOy0x/s1600/IMG_6237%5B1%5D.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And more greenery.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Xf5u5QEl0WgsTdGOqVaXN3Y_wsigu2A-8TNXK1lqk3h8LWrpr6xExs6Pec-lqIbvibJUzL7eW4_i_ZLna2OZWUSlVJ8Aubk9BcgW8-kfSs1nj6qF3VJSgvkuSizU1OTEHKfNfiwt6PN6/s1600/IMG_6238%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Xf5u5QEl0WgsTdGOqVaXN3Y_wsigu2A-8TNXK1lqk3h8LWrpr6xExs6Pec-lqIbvibJUzL7eW4_i_ZLna2OZWUSlVJ8Aubk9BcgW8-kfSs1nj6qF3VJSgvkuSizU1OTEHKfNfiwt6PN6/s1600/IMG_6238%5B1%5D.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I still need to get pictures in my empty frames.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDX7btFfEMtNzAiPytiqqP7YHUIauQyKsOnnkw17DtvDsC1L9nMI3QOhDUzwGtVdynsMRHfwX6G-F7pM69rcI1Ht4sJEJ9hFb9M4cA9J9Mpv2zMz3jXdP1jAvO3H3ynpP219TSRhTavr7V/s1600/IMG_6240%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDX7btFfEMtNzAiPytiqqP7YHUIauQyKsOnnkw17DtvDsC1L9nMI3QOhDUzwGtVdynsMRHfwX6G-F7pM69rcI1Ht4sJEJ9hFb9M4cA9J9Mpv2zMz3jXdP1jAvO3H3ynpP219TSRhTavr7V/s1600/IMG_6240%5B1%5D.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I just hung this mirror in the entry way.<br />
A little floral wreath adorns the top.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzDnWUQU03GisTPLYICOWB5TtqgMEhM3RrUw9R5tLgaewsjokofdsy6e-AWCHl4muqxWfs3Lkt94R1GWwxnHI3ily7sdoxyo292NZMXGIPPrgSYNVS9SCeaGu0Uj42EXvlBfogHxXsYzQx/s1600/IMG_6241%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzDnWUQU03GisTPLYICOWB5TtqgMEhM3RrUw9R5tLgaewsjokofdsy6e-AWCHl4muqxWfs3Lkt94R1GWwxnHI3ily7sdoxyo292NZMXGIPPrgSYNVS9SCeaGu0Uj42EXvlBfogHxXsYzQx/s1600/IMG_6241%5B1%5D.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And in the wreath is an awesome sign my friend made with her <br />
wood burning kit. "Dude... slow your roll" is a frequent saying coming from my mouth. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74ryfcZ2lz9BrTAYDz8IPDmZ7U8FINajiStdbGAcqVM1ygrr_Z83OM-rhRYCL-UmCQbkO6Ku-kv1BEGLTtbenU7sZ5_0DdGDK1Nh20LjYjpCTeYppzWGsKS9dmftYICPxdn_EXov9Obr5/s1600/IMG_6260%255B1%255D.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I simplified our entry way dresser. <br />We decided to keep hats/gloves/mittens/scarves<br />in here this year. It's worked out super well.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRO7_MsFiLD1wOVHgdK4c4E2X5XLhoAcXtzicN3BIpk-c6q94WqkS_1epU1azo7SNg_0jjwAlurkhYvbRad0DKkgyu-uhOfyGiQNDLsj5N7W__V-EjwJQlSTcQ0C2EnLqz4UDrXEeSYsBD/s1600/IMG_6242%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRO7_MsFiLD1wOVHgdK4c4E2X5XLhoAcXtzicN3BIpk-c6q94WqkS_1epU1azo7SNg_0jjwAlurkhYvbRad0DKkgyu-uhOfyGiQNDLsj5N7W__V-EjwJQlSTcQ0C2EnLqz4UDrXEeSYsBD/s1600/IMG_6242%5B1%5D.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love having a chalk board sign in my porch. </td></tr>
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There are two rooms in our house that have not been formally decorated. Our bathroom and our bedroom. </div>
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<i>Someday </i>our bedroom will be painted and pretty <strike>when Matt let's me take over and decorate the way that <i>I </i>want to</strike>, but until then I decided that I could at least decorate <i>my corner</i> the way I want to.</div>
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My corner is the furthest from the closet. It is always a mess, always has a pile of clothes that I need to put away and never looks pretty or organized. </div>
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So I <strike>pintrested the heck out of it</strike> transformed it and now it is <i>so</i> cute to look at. It's also <i>functional</i> and makes me less likely to fill with clothing that will never make it to the closet. And how much did I spend? (I'm making a 'zero' with my fingers and looking through it) ZERO DOLLARS!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0Z507fUIWrXxMZsqa7eV7XSkJrQhJl9DGQt4PNN40dGSxxKIBKECIXHwNp73C6pW0PM0SY13eD6iTKMXNEd7AAw4vtw3IgJfGCpnNFHdlTZcIiVE6y7n-tcrBNVzLQLasMHhYRs4PnNT/s1600/IMG_6251%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0Z507fUIWrXxMZsqa7eV7XSkJrQhJl9DGQt4PNN40dGSxxKIBKECIXHwNp73C6pW0PM0SY13eD6iTKMXNEd7AAw4vtw3IgJfGCpnNFHdlTZcIiVE6y7n-tcrBNVzLQLasMHhYRs4PnNT/s1600/IMG_6251%255B1%255D.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mama got me these sweet bird cage hooks last year. (Thanks ma!) I had no where to hang them<br />until NOW! How cute are they? And I still have another one that is a pretty vintage blue<br />that I'll be able to use somewhere else.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdg4Pr3clMwP61zvSDmp1sndGHCPtLiKsTw35uN8-WeNoEi6xFpFA-EoAYu6bnRC_1Yi8D3ERzMgnc0KvPpd3R0Lkxgj0Q-_hNa-kvVNzG1U1DI3ANVkRXe9dxKvwHOOkWGz49bnb1Bvg/s1600/IMG_6250%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdg4Pr3clMwP61zvSDmp1sndGHCPtLiKsTw35uN8-WeNoEi6xFpFA-EoAYu6bnRC_1Yi8D3ERzMgnc0KvPpd3R0Lkxgj0Q-_hNa-kvVNzG1U1DI3ANVkRXe9dxKvwHOOkWGz49bnb1Bvg/s1600/IMG_6250%255B1%255D.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This frame thingy I made when my friend brought over some<br />left over chicken wire (thanks Andrea!)<br />I had the empty frame from when my friend left me treasures <br />when she moved to Florida (thanks Cindy!)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">And here it is! TAAAAH DAH!!!!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhyxnC6dFsoIQArVx0gXYaHHUqwpQ49pG7buCAirWLUgqE-ZCx5P0NF39RV5HWHE5OyYP4DxsfYM77PSKsrq5oNX115jJA_cCI0lNXTPKbSxD-z5tMOzZhLVJyU1TCmGRzcuNY7rWoI1J/s1600/IMG_6259%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhyxnC6dFsoIQArVx0gXYaHHUqwpQ49pG7buCAirWLUgqE-ZCx5P0NF39RV5HWHE5OyYP4DxsfYM77PSKsrq5oNX115jJA_cCI0lNXTPKbSxD-z5tMOzZhLVJyU1TCmGRzcuNY7rWoI1J/s1600/IMG_6259%255B1%255D.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Husband hung up a third rack for my scarves and so now they all fit! (Thanks babe!)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Next project on my to-do list.... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">tackling that mess that is</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> the top of my dresser. Yikes.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgortdKPQRxxJh9A5Ld3bn1KZtrULdsHEznuV4e0ECjxC3NsGud22w7FTwgj6NBtOMZsN9NNh6YRNkZPCfmW-jb7nS91dYaHRTutYKJPU9m0fF85LZhx-8yf4TcgEOfqy9sj-LE2xULtkz1/s1600/IMG_6256%255B1%255D.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still need to hang a few more dangly earrings. <br />And then figure out how to display my studs for easy access. <br />And figure out what to do with all the other little<br />mis-matched things.</td></tr>
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So, there's that. A light and airy little post about the little things and simple tasks that make my heart happy these days. Hope you all are finding little ways to make your days go by just a little bit smoother and brighter.<br />
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Also I thought I'd add a little picture from Christmas. Our Christmas was simple and sweet. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI9DhHucy65O1oo0ZPdP6qrPAAhr16i4Y-0YwSwsScWAoSI_EOrUVhrJvWvOiHy-Lv1CnxcSYFrpNe_GFugAf1YOq0IgvzA9jkU4veZJ8zcdLBXEAKDyya6weoGBLlxjN97BJWACUB5PZd/s1600/IMG_6073%5B1%5D.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our little boys on Christmas morning right before they got to open their presents.<br />They couldn't have been happier.</td></tr>
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Good night!
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I needed a break away and my wonderful husband let me escape to our favorite hang out (<a href="http://www.groundswellmn.com/" target="_blank">Groundswell </a>of course) to get a break.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm dinking around on my laptop and sippin' my tea, catching bits and pieces from all the conversations around me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The nice older ladies at the table beside me are talking about their goals for the year. Their goals sound like all of our goals: Important yet redundant. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then there are three 20-something dudes. They are sitting a little further away but a few of their words trail over to me and my ears perk up when I hear "sex trafficking.... strip clubs... healing and restoration... God's love.... righteous anger..." and then I start to get that tingly feeling that I get when I know God's about to have me do something crazy. So I text my friend Kjersti. One of my fellow fighting-the-good-fight girls and tell her. She's the one <a href="http://sierramadres.blogspot.com/2013/12/broken-hearts-lead-to-making-change.html" target="_blank">I mentioned recently</a> that also has a heart for women in the sex industry. My text ended with "pray that if this is a divine appointment that God makes it happen!" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was sorta hoping maybe she would get the text later and not make me go talk to them. But she yelled at me over text to TALK TO THEM!!! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I have talked about it before that I am struggling with what my role is supposed to be in connection with the women and children being affected by sex trafficking and the sex industry. Lately I feel like God's revealing to me that it is simple. That I am just supposed to raise awareness. Start conversations. Make connections. Point people in the direction of my friends who are getting to be the hands and feet. Pray. Educate myself. Know resources. Be a voice for the voiceless. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So I did it. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I risked looking dumb. I risked sounding nosy. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I walked up and said "Sooooo.... this is gonna sound weird, but, I was kinda hearing parts of your conversation and was wondering...." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And guess what? These guys are broken hearted over this issue too. They were so willing to open their hearts and share their thoughts. They were from Mill City Church in NE Minneapolis. Their church has <a href="http://www.millcitychurch.com/#/participate/missional-communities" target="_blank">missional communities</a> and one of them is dedicated to loving and serving victims of sex trafficking. One of the guys has felt lead to go to Moldova to work with children being rescued out of sex trafficking. What a cool connection! I got to share with them what my friends are doing in their ministries, I got to encourage these guys and thank them for being strong men willing to stand up for the millions of victims out there. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I tried not to cry as we talked. Dudes never know what to do with girls that cry. So I kept my cool :)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then I went back to my chair, sat back down at my laptop and erased how this blog post had originally started (new year, new goals, yadda yadda yadda...) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yep, I will <i>try</i> to work on the list of things my lady neighbors are working on: take better care of myself, more rest, eat better etc. etc. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">But I think the biggest thing </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I want to work on this year </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">is being brave.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Even if I look dumb sometimes. I want to be brave, I want to respond to the tingly feeling that comes when I know I am supposed to speak up or do something crazy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Other things I am working on this year:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-being a voice for the voiceless</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">-growing my <a href="http://mytradesofhope.com/home.aspx" target="_blank">Trades of Hope business</a> (I have my first three parties booked this month!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">-more dates with my man</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">-being a more patient mama</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-learning to play the ukulele!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Happy New Year! What are you working on this year?</span></div>
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sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4686510024517648761.post-50024903732985193562013-12-17T22:24:00.001-08:002013-12-17T22:24:51.852-08:00A little life lesson...Watch this short eight minute clip. It's about growing up:<br />
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<a href="http://sharepowered.com/inspiring/a-must-watch-for-anyone-frustrated-with-growing-up/#sthash.lNjYxa2p.cmfs">A Must-Watch For Anyone Frustrated With Growing Up</a><br />
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It's so funny because this evening I was stuck in a ginormous line at JoAnne Fabrics and there was a cranky lady at the check out desk. She was reaming the worker out for a sign that led her to believe one price, when in reality it was another price. The manager finally did an over-ride giving her the price she wanted as she said super loud "...and <i>ONLY</i> because we need to move <i>forward</i> here and there is a long line <i>waiting </i>behind you!" When her total came up she counted out the correct change down to the penny, and then complained again. I couldn't hear the entire conversation but I began getting annoyed.<br />
<br />
There were 10 people in front of me in line, and at least 10 more behind me. I got the snarky smirks from those around me, the snarly smirk that says "this lady is nuts... what an idiot..." I did the courteous smirk back, showing my understanding and agreement, but then I looked at the lady again, and this time I saw her with different eyes. I felt empathy towards her. The holidays are supposed to be merry and bright, but they are far from it usually. So many of us strive to make Christmas morning perfect for our kids. We strive to make our house perfect for company. We strive to make the best side dish to display at our mother-in-law's. We are all just trying to do our best. This lady was probably trying to do her best too. I imagined that she was on a tight budget and trying to make her money stretch as far as it could. Maybe she was trying to make home-made gifts for her kids or her siblings. I looked at her face and her cheeks were hot and flushed with frustration and probably embarrassment. Her daughter kept coming in to the store asking her when she was going to be done, that it was cold outside and "YOU HAVE BEEN IN HERE FOREVERRRRR!!" I said a little prayer for that woman, and I truly hoped that she would experience peace and hope.<br />
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In the clip I posted there is the mom struggling with the cranky kid. I've been there sooo many times.<br />
There's the single girl, irritated with those around her. I've been there before.<br />
There's the guy, mad that he has to wait in line. I've been there too.<br />
There's the lady on her phone, annoying those around her. Been there.<br />
And traffic. yep.<br />
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I love that it mentions that we have a choice about how we react in those "day to day" situations.<br />
That it's not all about us.<br />
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I need to remember this daily. 'Cause most days I am stuck on feeling like it is <i>all about me.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/originals/ec/55/b2/ec55b2ef8ab5a55f7948a744e193d66b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/originals/ec/55/b2/ec55b2ef8ab5a55f7948a744e193d66b.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><i><br />
</i>sierrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00147741871314501496noreply@blogger.com2