<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:12:45.427-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ramblings...</title><subtitle type='html'>I really don't have any original thoughts to share with others, so I may end up just sharing my favorite quotes.  There are so many more people so much wiser than I am.  It's all about sharing the wisdom.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-5242750710585604720</id><published>2007-07-03T23:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T00:20:14.924-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories from Mongolia...</title><content type='html'>In preparation of moving back home, I have been doing alot of cleaning out.  I've been shredding and throwing away stored up papers (some from '00!), sorting various items into keep, trash, and yard sale, and experiencing some memories in the process.  I found a magazine that I didn't know I had about Campus Crusade's efforts in Mongolia.  (Maybe someone gave it to me before I went?)  And, blessed gift, I found all my notes, photo negatives, and keepsakes from the trip! &lt;br /&gt;My favorite of these notes is the translation of a song I learned.  I would type the Mongolian and then the English, but my Mongolian version is spelled out in "Kathryn's Phonetics," so it really wouldn't do it justice.  But I love how it translates into English:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I sing/worship You only;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I will give/adore only for You;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Very nice sound from my heart;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;God of the world, please take my praise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I will look/search only for You;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I will give gifts only for You;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Holy, Holiest, the best/first from my heart (I give You);&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Please take my gift, life's God.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Holy, Holiest Lord...I want to give you my best and my first from the whole of my heart.  Lord, I agree with Paul in that it is my desire to do right, but how to do it seems to escape me, for what I would, that I do not, and what I would not, that I do.  Thank You, Father, that it is not up to me to be holy enough.  Thank You for the precious gift of Your Son, Jesus. &lt;br /&gt;Lord my gift to You is my heart and my life.  You are my life's God.  Please take my gift and my praise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-5242750710585604720?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/5242750710585604720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=5242750710585604720&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/5242750710585604720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/5242750710585604720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2007/07/memories-from-mongolia.html' title='Memories from Mongolia...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-8591998293894242509</id><published>2007-05-12T23:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T00:18:39.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessed Again....</title><content type='html'>Well...who would have thought that God would be in charge of a leaking toilet, but let me be the first to say that God is sovereign over EVERYTHING. &lt;br /&gt;I am still amazed at what happened tonight.  I was supposed to be elsewhere, doing other things.  But I decided to clean up and move some furniture around at Mom's house so that she could move around with greater ease, and maybe avoid having to climb the stairs so often.  I was cleaning from about 3:30pm until 7pm when my friend Dorothy and I decided to break for some Sonic and a drive through the country.  When we got back, (thirty minutes later), I heard water running.  I went to the downstairs bathroom to check the faucet and to make sure the toilet wasn't running.  There, I found water all but pouring from the ceiling and vent.  I ran upstairs, splashed through the flooded floor, and saw water blasting from the plastic bolt that hooks the water hose to the toilet.  I tried to turn the water off but was a little too panicky.  Fortunately, a steadier hand reached in and saved the day.  So after a little freak-out session, (on my part, not Dorothy's), we called her dad, who awesomely ran right over, went back home to retrieve the needed part, and then fixed everything. &lt;br /&gt;So...as I was putting the 5 soaking-wet towels into the washing machine I thought, "how does that even begin to happen???  how does a plastic bolt crack suddenly and without even being used today???  what would have happened if I hadn't been here????"  Then it dawned on me...everything happened this way so that I would be here and would have help to get it fixed.&lt;br /&gt;And now I am reminded of God's sovereignty and His blessings towards me.  And I really haven't deserved to even be reminded.  I have had a tough week full of mini-freak-out sessions which stem from not trusting God to really be in control of everything.  I've heard 4 sermons on waiting on God in the past few weeks, and just recently, I got the message.  I have been pleading for God to show me what to do, and now I'm sure that it is to continue to wait.&lt;br /&gt;O Lord, when I find this waiting difficult, and begin to get impatient, and begin to question You all over again, remind me of tonight.  Remind me of Your timing.  Remind me that Your ways are not my ways, and Your thoughts are not my thoughts: Yours are higher.  You know the plans that You have for me, and You will accomplish that which concerns me.  Keep reminding me that if You care enough to make sure I'm at home so that water would not destroy this house, then You certainly care about more important things.  I am sorry, Lord, for my doubt and foolishness.  Thank You for blessing me anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-8591998293894242509?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/8591998293894242509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=8591998293894242509&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/8591998293894242509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/8591998293894242509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2007/05/blessed-again.html' title='Blessed Again....'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-4963666887659487514</id><published>2007-04-26T22:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T23:27:59.953-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In Pursuit of Fireflies...</title><content type='html'>Mom and I drove the loop the other night.  (For those who don't know, "the loop" is a road that goes back into some of the farms in Marion, and then circles around to get back into town.)  It's been a habit of ours to go by Sonic and then drive the loop.  We haven't done that in almost a year, it seems, but the weather was great and off we went.  A year or two ago, we discovered that there are a few spots where you can stop the car, turn off the lights, and watch thousands of fireflies against a dark backdrop of trees.  May is really the perfect month, because of the temperature.  June is too late.  Evidently, April is too early.  It is an awesome sight to see all those little lights in the middle of the pitch black.&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of darkness...I've been challenged lately with many anxious thoughts.  I wish I could say that my first response was true trust, but it hasn't been.  But I was reminded of that verse a few days ago, "When my anxious thoughts multiply within me, Thy consolations delight my soul." (Ps 94:19)  Then I thought about the Israelites, and how it was important for them to teach their children and their children's children, and to rehearse on a monthly, if not weekly, basis, as well as with the yearly celebration of feasts, all that God had done for them.  Why was this important?  Because when things get dark, it is all too easy for us to forget what God has done.  I mean, the Israelites walked through the Jordan river ON DRY GROUND, and later they complained about being led out of Egypt in order to die in the desert.  I mean... HELLO !!!!!&lt;br /&gt;I heard Chuck Swindoll, a few weeks ago, talking about sitting down with the family after dinner one night and telling the story (chronologically) about how God led them from the beginning of their lives and up until the present time.  He said that after the recount of each child's birth, they stopped, prayed, and thanked God for His blessings and leading.  So I listed my anxious thoughts, and then I listed His consolations.  As I began to list God's consolations and all the ways in which He has led me, I was overwhelmed again, but this time with gratitude and lowliness.  I mean, who am I that God would bless me?  And why do I act like I think that God won't continue to care for me and my family?&lt;br /&gt;Oh God, let me never forget all Your lovingkindness towards me.  You have blessed me FAR above what I could ever deserve and beyond what I could hope for.  Thank You that Your consolations are like those fireflies in the middle of the dark.  Little glimmers of light and hope in the midst of the pitch black that encourage me to continue to put my trust and hope in You for everything.  EVERY thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-4963666887659487514?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/4963666887659487514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=4963666887659487514&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/4963666887659487514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/4963666887659487514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2007/04/in-pursuit-of-fireflies.html' title='In Pursuit of Fireflies...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-116883864586700009</id><published>2007-01-15T00:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-15T00:24:05.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>See Spot Change...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2210/1149/1600/675292/spot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2210/1149/320/543623/spot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is at these moments that I truly love being a veterinarian. This cute little puppy was one of my most recent patients. Actually, the dad of the pup’s owner brought this little one in, as well as it’s brand-new twin. He told the receptionists that his wife had washed the new one over and over trying to fade it, but that his wife and son, Spot’s owner, would be by a little later to pick up the pooch from being seen by the vet.&lt;br /&gt;When they told me that Spot’s owner, a little boy named Connor had arrived, I had to collect myself a little. I LOVE doing this sort of thing! I went out into the waiting room and called out, “Spot?” Connor’s mom told him to go get his puppy. I told him that I hoped it was ok that we had bathed him, because he had gotten a little dirty when we were fixing him. He looked at Spot, looked at his mom, looked at me, and then hugged his pet. He asked me, “You stitched his heart?” I nodded. His little fingers gently touched the eyes, nose, ears, and heart. His mom asked him how Spot smelled. A little sniff of the nose and head… “Clean.” Some other words were exchanged, and I told Connor’s mom and grandmother “thank you.” We were all fighting back tears by the end, and the whole thing only took 20-30 seconds. You see, Connor is probably about 8 or 9 years old, but he is a special-needs child.&lt;br /&gt;Seeing Spot’s transformation reminded me of a few verses in Scripture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.” Ps 51:10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Search me, O God, and know my heart; Try me and know my anxious thoughts; and see if there be any hurtful way in me, and lead me in the everlasting way.” Ps 139:23-24&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“For Thou dost not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it; Thou art not pleased with burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise.” Ps 51:16-17&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Therefore if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.” 2 Cor 5:17&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see from the picture, Spot was a well-loved “pet,” whose heart was literally falling apart. But Spot did not return his owner broken. He was entrusted to the doctor, and was returned as good as new. It is the same with our Physician.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-116883864586700009?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/116883864586700009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=116883864586700009&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/116883864586700009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/116883864586700009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2007/01/see-spot-change_15.html' title='See Spot Change...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-116785746648878004</id><published>2007-01-03T15:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T15:51:06.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A change of plans...</title><content type='html'>Well...this was the first year having Christmas with my brother and his wife as part of the family.  I mean, we've always had Will as a part of the family, (duh), but this year it was a different Will.  I was shocked to meet this new person he has become.  He's only been married a couple of months, but as I sat with he and his wife at the table after brunch, I thought to myself..."Wow! He's an adult."  It brings a smile to my face even now to think about it.  Not that I'm SUCH an adult, and he was always SUCH a child, but I think I was finally able to see HIM.  My brother has always surprised me upon occasion with some tidbit of wisdom.  I don't know why I don't expect wisdom to come from my little brother...well...I guess I know why...when you are the big sister, you always know more than your brother, more about any thing regarding any subject.  That's just the way it is.  But not really so much anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I asked Will before the wedding how he and Lisa got together.  You see, they 'dated' for 5 years before he proposed.  And since I knew my brother was not the kind of guy to ask girls out (ie. he is not one of those guys that asks many girls out just to go on dates), I wanted to know how their relationship even started.  He said that they had been dating about 2 months when he found out about it.  (They did alot of group activities and hung out together quite a bit.)  He said that when he found out she was calling him her 'boyfriend', he panicked.  This was not what he had planned.  He was supposed to be single.  He had never been attached to anyone, nor had he planned to.  So he called it off.  (I asked how, to which he replied, "I didn't call her for a week.")  Then I asked if she called him, or if he took himself back to her.  He admitted that he went back of his own accord.  He said that Mom asked him, "Well, if she's not your 'girlfriend', what is she?"  He thought a minute, and answered, "She's my Lisa.  Like, my car, my room, my keys, my Lisa."  She is the other part of him, and it surprised him to find her.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...I just thought that was really sweet.  It's kinda like the story about my dad and the song "Brown-eyed Girl."  Mom says that every time that song came on, he would start singing, and then turn to her in the middle and exclaim, "You're eyes aren't brown!  I thought I liked brown-eyed girls."  To his surprise, he didn't.  He liked my Mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wanted to share.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-116785746648878004?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/116785746648878004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=116785746648878004&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/116785746648878004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/116785746648878004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2007/01/change-of-plans.html' title='A change of plans...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-116649956132850157</id><published>2006-12-18T21:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T22:42:22.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1 Cor 9:24-27</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Do you not know that all those who run in a race all run, but only one receives the prize? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Run in such a way that you may win&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And everyone who competes in the games exercises self-control in all things. They then do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. Therefore, I run in such a way as not without aim; I box in such a way as not beating the air; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;but I buffet my body and make it my slave, lest possibly, after I have preached to others, I myself should be disqualified&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-116649956132850157?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/116649956132850157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=116649956132850157&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/116649956132850157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/116649956132850157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/12/1-cor-924-27.html' title='1 Cor 9:24-27'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-116494382249326495</id><published>2006-11-30T22:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-30T23:14:03.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Battling the Unbelief of Impatience</title><content type='html'>Got this in a letter from Desiring God ministries. Piper has been doing a series on battling unbelief. This particular form of unbelief is one that I've just recently been dealing with in a new way. "Trust and obey, for there's no other way, to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey." Anyway...just wanted to share:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Willing to Stand in God's Place or Go at His Pace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you waiting for something? I mean really waiting with deep longing in your soul for something beyond your control? You might be waiting to conceive a child, receive financial provision, see a loved one come to faith, get married, see a serious illness healed, or move in a ministry direction to which you feel called. Are you waiting for God to answer? If so, you are in a good (though hard) place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God highly values the fruit produced in the soul that learns to wait patiently for him. So he takes pains to cultivate it in us. That's why God dealt with Abraham as he did and recorded Abraham's story for us--to encourage our anxious waiting hearts and show us what walking by faith look like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Genesis 12, Abram (as he was called then) is already seventy-five years old. And God promises to make him a great nation that would bless all the families of the earth and to give his offspring the land of the Canaanites. However, Abram has no offspring. His wife, Sarai, is barren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time goes by. No child. So Abram prudently plans to make his servant, Eliezer of Damascus, his heir. But God says, "This man shall not be your heir; your very own son shall be your heir" (Gen 15:4). Then he takes Abram out and shows him the night sky and tells him that his offspring will be so numerous that counting them would be like counting stars. But in the tent it's still just Abram and Sarai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More time goes by. Sarai gets desperate. Despite what her husband thinks God has told him, she can't conceive. She wants a child. She's done waiting. So she devises a solution: her maidservant, Hagar, could be a surrogate child-bearer for her. This sounds plausible to the eighty-six year-old Abram. But Abram did not consult God on this idea. Not wise. The solution backfires big-time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirteen more years go by before God finally tells the ninety-nine year-old Abram that eighty-nine year-old Sarai will bear a son. This is (almost) unbelievable news. Both respond with the equivalent of "No way!" But God says, "Yes way!" and changes their names to Abraham (father of a multitude) and Sarah (princess). A year later Isaac is born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twenty-five years of waiting and no earthly reason to hope for a child. Their only hope was a promise from God. And that's exactly how God wants his children to live: by faith in future grace--the assurance of things hoped for; the conviction of things not seen (Heb 11:1).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learning to walk by faith and not by sight is hard. It was hard for Abraham and Sarah. It is hard for all of us. God designed it that way. It is his process of mercifully weaning us off of self-sufficient delusion and letting us taste the joy of what it means to hope in him alone. Learning to patiently trust a promise from God develops our capacity to really hope in eternal life. We learn not to trust our perceptions or emotions but God's promises. And over time the unseen reality of heaven becomes more real to us. There is nothing like the experience of tasting hope when all looked hopeless to teach the soul that the death we fear is not the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm impatient, which is to say I'm selfish and prone to believe that my will ought to be sovereign in the ordering and timing of events, I need encouragement to "hold fast the confession of my hope without wavering" (Heb 10:23). So I just finished listening twice to John Piper's message, "Battling the Unbelief of Impatience." One of the things he said that rings in my ears is,&lt;br /&gt;The opposite of impatience is a deepening, sweetening willingness to stand in the place that God has appointed or to move at the pace that God has appointed...to stand in God's place or go at his pace."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the letter goes on with some other stuff not really related to the message. Anyway...just thought this was worth sharing. If you're interested, go to &lt;a href="http://www.desiringgod.org"&gt;DesiringGod.org&lt;/a&gt; and download the sermon or request the cd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-116494382249326495?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/116494382249326495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=116494382249326495&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/116494382249326495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/116494382249326495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/11/battling-unbelief-of-impatience.html' title='Battling the Unbelief of Impatience'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-116423809088901213</id><published>2006-11-22T18:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T18:32:48.570-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone in the kitchen...</title><content type='html'>...in aprons, doing something different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2210/1149/1600/138529/2006_1117scavengerhunt0088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2210/1149/320/225665/2006_1117scavengerhunt0088.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from a recent scavenger hunt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-116423809088901213?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/116423809088901213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=116423809088901213&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/116423809088901213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/116423809088901213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/11/everyone-in-kitchen.html' title='Everyone in the kitchen...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-116179227413752224</id><published>2006-10-25T11:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T12:04:34.280-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Led by His own hand...</title><content type='html'>Well...much has happened over the last few weeks.  I had been asking God to tell me if He wanted me to start to get involved at Bellevue or not, and I received an affirmative answer.  I asked again, and the words of that old hymn came to me, "What more can He say, than to you He has said..."  I thought back to Exodus to a verse that I have prayed many times, "Unless You lead us up from here, We will not move."  Only a few verses before that, God told Moses, " I am going with you."  How many times have I waited on God, received His direction, and then asked Him if He was sure?  Too many...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...They were about to start new studies in each of the Sunday School/Bible Fellowship classes at Bellevue, and I knew that this was the time to start.  So...I showed up at 8:00 am and went to the Pastor's class, because they had said the previous Sunday, that if you don't know where to go, go to the Pastor's class.   As I was walking in the building, I was telling God that I really can't back out, I guess.  There is no church service at 8am, so I really have to go to this class, and if He wants me in a SS class, He'll take me to one, and if He wanted take me, I'd stay the whole morning.  So I show up.  They immediately spotted me as a visitor (the Pastor's class was an older married's class that got renamed) and this sweet lady came up to me and asked me about myself and was I looking for a specific class.  I told her that I had been led to be more involved, and didn't know where to go.  She said she'd take me to her daughter's class that started at 9:30 if I wanted to go, so I said ok.  At 9, when we got out of class, she took me upstairs and told me that her daughter may not be there this early, but we'd go look anyway.  And who should greet us as we rounded the corner into the career/singles dept?  Her daughter.  They talked for a minute or two, and then I visited with her daughter for a few minutes, and she let me help her kinda greet and pray over the meeting time, and then we sat down for the announcements and worship.  When we got up to go to class, there was a voice from behind me that said, "Are you Kathryn?"  I turned around, and there was a girl named Bethany Kyzar.  As it turns out, I don't remember meeting her before, but I worked with her brother in high school, and she is a friend of one of my friends (Candice Hair).  She said that Candice had told her she might see me around.  She is in the same class that I was about to go to, so off we went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since that time, I have had several confirmations that this has been God's will.  I have been amazed in seeing how, even in a church the size of Bellevue, He has led me by His own hand to be exactly where I should be at precisely the right moment.  This decision to move was not an easy one.  When I left the church after telling Bro. Gary that I felt God was calling me to a different church, I knew there would be a challenge coming up.  The next day, Mom told me that they wanted her to start chemo, because the tumors seemed to be spreading.  Again, I began to doubt God's leading in taking me further away from her house.  She and I had discussed that if I began to get involved, I would probably not be home as often as I was before.  I asked God if He knew what He was doing.  The answer:  "You of little faith...to not follow My direction is a decision based on fear and not trust."  To move home or to stay at home is to say that God could not possibly take better care of my Mom than I can.  And who am I kidding about that?  She fell several months ago.  I didn't learn about it until days later.  At the very moment she fell, she could have died, because of where the break occured.  God chose not to take her home at that moment, because He has a purpose in all that has followed and is following.  He is over all things, and I am trusting Him completely.  When I hear news like, "they are putting me on chemo until whenever," I can't say that I listen and absorb it with complete joy and peace.  It still stings.  But I know that the sovereign Lord of the stars, the oceans, and the world events, is the same Lord Who has led me by His own hand and placed me where He wants me.  He is intimately acquainted and interested in my life, as He is the lives and hearts of all His children.  And even beyond that, He loves those people who are not His children.  He wants to have the same relationship He has with me, with them as well.  It just blows my mind.  It just completely blows my mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord, thank You for leading me and loving me, even as I falter and stumble.  You alone are the Rock that I can cling to and the Refuge to which I run as these storms, these rains that fall on the just and the unjust, come down.  You are the only strength by which I can stand up at all.  "Not by (my) strength and not by (my) might, but by (Your) Spirit..." Neh 4:6  Only by Your Spirit, Lord.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-116179227413752224?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/116179227413752224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=116179227413752224&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/116179227413752224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/116179227413752224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/10/led-by-his-own-hand.html' title='Led by His own hand...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-115999754036194576</id><published>2006-10-04T17:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T17:32:20.376-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Subscriptions...</title><content type='html'>Today, I have added a subscription availability to the blog.  I don't update as frequently as I need to, and I realized that I don't check my friends' blogs but every once in awhile, and when they've been faithful to blog, it takes me forever to catch up.  After subscribing to one, I found it alot easier to keep up.  So...for those who want to, enter your email address on the right side of the page to subscribe.  : )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-115999754036194576?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/115999754036194576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=115999754036194576&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115999754036194576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115999754036194576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/10/subscriptions.html' title='Subscriptions...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-115999732854284031</id><published>2006-10-04T17:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T17:28:48.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Favorite...</title><content type='html'>I know it's been a long time since I've updated, and I should write something about what all I have been learning, or how Jinotega was, etc.  But I really just wanted to share that I have found my new favorite dish at Bahama Breeze.  In case you haven't been, you have to go when it's either fall or spring and sit out on the patio.  And when you do go, you need to have the Chicken Santiago.  (If you go at lunch, it won't be on the menu, but you can get the lighter portion.  Just ask.)  Anyway...it's grilled chicken with a great red pepper (?) sauce, fried yucas (a member of the potato family) and a spicy/fruity salsa that is awesome.  Anyway...Just thought I'd share.  It's hard to pick a favorite dish, you know?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-115999732854284031?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/115999732854284031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=115999732854284031&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115999732854284031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115999732854284031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/10/new-favorite.html' title='A New Favorite...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-115750742932022514</id><published>2006-09-05T21:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T21:50:29.373-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tidbits from Chris Rice</title><content type='html'>On walking with God:&lt;br /&gt;"I would take no for an answer, just to know I heard you speak.  And I'm wondering why I've never seen the signs they claim they see.  Are there special revelations meant for everybody but me?  Maybe I don't really know You, and maybe I just simply believe.  'Cause I can sniff, I can see, and I can count up pretty high, but these faculties aren't getting me any closer to the sky.  But this heart of faith keeps pounding, so I know I'm doing fine.  But sometimes finding You is just like trying to smell the color 9.&lt;br /&gt;"Now I've never felt the presence, but I know You're always near.  And I've never heard the calling, but somehow You've led me right here.  So I'm not looking for burning bushes or some divine graffiti to appear.  I'm just begging for Your wisdom, and I believe You're putting some here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On prayer:&lt;br /&gt;"Fresh page, new pen, where do I begin?  Words fail, tears come, I need someone to take the thoughts I almost think and carry them to God for me.  Deep breath, exhale, breathe in deeper still.  Long sigh, I'm still numb.  Is there anyone who can find the things I'm barely feeling, and give them wings beyond my ceiling?  Right heart, wrong place, it's too far to outerspace.  Sorry, I forgot, You're right here.  I cup my hands around Your ear.  I feel You smile; You feel my breath.  You listen while I whisper nonsense.  Simple exchange.  Your will, I'm changed.  And now my prayer ends.  Thank You.  Amen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On feeling out of place:&lt;br /&gt;"Fading memories ignored, I crawl across the forest floor.  Pool reflects an orphaned child, dirty lost, alone, and wild.  Fatherless and nameless still, fallen heart and broken, will there ever be a place where I belong?  I cower 'neath the monster trees, and try to stand on tired feet.  But gravity knocks me to the ground, where I give up and tears roll down.  I claw the dust and beg the end; curse the day that I began to hope there'd be a place where I belong.  I hear a sound I recognize.  You lift my chin and seek my eyes.  The song of love You sing to me, I ache to sing it back to Thee.  'Father love prepares a place, and brother Jesus leads the way.  Follow to the place where you belong.'  How did I miss this wondrous song?  The forest sang it all along.  River rinses all your shame, and Father offers you His name.  'Father love prepares a home, and brother Jesus leads you on.  Follow to the place where you belong.'"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-115750742932022514?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/115750742932022514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=115750742932022514&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115750742932022514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115750742932022514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/09/tidbits-from-chris-rice.html' title='Tidbits from Chris Rice'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-115483736760625914</id><published>2006-08-05T21:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-06T00:09:27.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons...</title><content type='html'>Mom and I took a drive this evening. I haven't driven what I call "the loop" in almost a year. At first because of gas prices, and now because I've moved. But I used to drive this one little loop around the farms in Marion. In May and early June, if you drive shortly after the sun goes down, the fireflies are everywhere. I think, after June, it's too hot for them. Anyway...the milo is about ready for harvesting, and the color is spectacular. I'll post a picture soon. (My PC is on the fritz, and I'm having to use Mom's, and I don't have my camera's software on this computer.) Anyway...it was really nice to slow down a bit and enjoy the time. I have really been pretty busy lately, with work, play rehearsal, and running errands.&lt;br /&gt;But I've been thinking alot lately. I think I mentioned memorizing James several months (sadly) ago, and I'm almost finished. I can't believe how much I have learned just by chewing over some of those scriptures. I guess the better way to put that is that I can't believe how much there is &lt;em&gt;to be learned&lt;/em&gt; from those scriptures. Much self examination has taken place. I've been especially staying around chapter 4 in the latter verses. 13 "Come now you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we shall go to such and such a city, spend a year there, engage in business and make a profit.' 14 But you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away. 15 Instead, you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we shall live, and also do this and that.'"&lt;br /&gt;As I was thinking about these words, my mind went to: "If the Lord wills, we shall live." And I realized that I'd never seen that before. In my mind, verse 15 had always read "If the Lord wills, we will do this and that." As if to say that God is only action and goal oriented. He only cares about what we do. But that is not true. He has plans for us for whether we live or we die.&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking alot lately about living and dying. I guess I can't seem to help it. I also feel guilty talking to people about some of what I'm learning and struggling with, because I get the feeling that people are uncomfortable talking about such things. I don't blame them. Unless I was going through or had gone through something like this before, I don't know that I'd know how to respond. Fear and discomfort steer us to avoid such subjects and people. A quick word about that, though, to anyone who's listening: avoidance isn't the way to respond. It makes that person feel even more isolated and alone.  (I am still trying to understand the differences between a "load" and a "burden."  One is to be born; the other is to be shared.  I won't go into all of my questions on that tonight.)&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for digressing...back to what I was saying earlier...I guess I have been listening for the first time and learning a great deal in the process. I have been learning about the battle that is prayer. I have questioned that often quoted verse in James 5 about the effective, fervent prayer of the righteous. I've been pondering God's promises and why He should even make promises to us, filthy and faithless as we are. There are some truths, which I'll call hurdles, that I've had to stop and examine. Hurdles that I never saw before. It's not as if I even remember stumbling over them...perhaps, I just wasn't even running in the race. I have been just standing somewhere between start and finish.&lt;br /&gt;I have prayed that God would lead me out of the mediocre Christian life. I didn't, and don't, want to merely soak up the air conditioning and play my part in the hug-and-greet-ministry that is being a contemporary Christian.  I have struggled with being in the world but not of it.  I think I would love to live and work in a totally Christian environment, but then how would I grow, and how would the lost meet Jesus?  I want God to use me and be glorified. Yet even with all the fire and passion of pleading to be used, when the messiness of life comes, I beg to be released.  Did I not expect the refining process to be painful? Did I expect to be put into the fire, in order to purify my faith like gold, and for it not to hurt or surprise me, even just a little? Oh that this simple existence of mine would run untiringly the race set before me! That forgetting what lies behind, I would press on toward the goal. That I would cast off the things, little and large, that so easily entangle me and run.  Lord, thank You for a second wind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-115483736760625914?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/115483736760625914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=115483736760625914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115483736760625914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115483736760625914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/08/lessons.html' title='Lessons...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-115205659784288649</id><published>2006-07-04T18:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T19:43:17.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'>4th of July Memories...</title><content type='html'>Today is one of my favorite holidays.  Why?  I guess because it's a fuss-free time for family and friends to get together.  I can remember going to see the fireworks show (I think it was in Jonesboro) every year.  We'd break out the picnic blankets and coolers, claim a good spot, and run around until the show began.  I remember one year we had 3D glasses.  And another year, my dad began to think that the ash from the fireworks wasn't good for our eyes, so he bought us these sunglasses.  These were no ordinary glasses.  They were huge, and they had a little battery attached that powered the mini-lights along the top rim.  So we wore light-up sunglasses to watch the fireworks in the dark that year. &lt;br /&gt;Another fond memory is of going to the Twist's house in Earl, AR to have a huge buffet/picnic, parade, and a homemade fireworks display.  My grandmother sent us a video the other day of 1982 that had July 4th, as well as Will's and my birthdays on it.  It was pretty funny.  There were these fireworks that had parachutes attached, and that is where the video starts.  All of us kids (girls: ponytails on the side of the head, strawberry shortcake t-shirts; boys: knee-high white socks with colored stripes on the top, shorts with stripes down the sides) running around collecting them.  THEN you see the men (in the same clothing as previously described for the boys) setting up the fireworks and running away when they were finally lit.  There is the sound of my dad's voice calling out to me and Will to watch out and not get too close.  Dad was always behind the camera and very seldom in front of it.  My dad was pretty country.  Mom liked to make fun of me when I came back from college, but as I watch our old home videos, I am discovering that the potential for a deep southern accent has run in the family for years.   It's good to hear my dad's voice sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;I remember the year the youth group decided to do our own thing, and we set off our own fireworks.  There was one that went straight up the driveway and split the crowd.  We all hit the pavement.&lt;br /&gt;It's a time for potato salad, swimming pools, and bug spray...Iced tea, apple pie, sparklers, and staying up late.  There's not really any stress involved.  No picking whose family to spend it with; no presents to buy; no fuss over the menu.  It's all simple and pleasant.  It's a time to enjoy the people closest to you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God has been, and is, so very good to us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-115205659784288649?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/115205659784288649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=115205659784288649&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115205659784288649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115205659784288649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/07/4th-of-july-memories.html' title='4th of July Memories...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-115187050896552555</id><published>2006-07-02T15:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-02T16:01:48.976-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A picture is worth...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/1600/dwight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/320/dwight.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a thousand words (and memories). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture is from The Office, one of the few shows that I adore.  How excited am I that the season finale is playing again this Thursday?  Answer: very (since the power went out when I had tried to tape it the first time.)  I had to wait almost a week before I could find out what happened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-115187050896552555?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/115187050896552555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=115187050896552555&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115187050896552555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115187050896552555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/07/picture-is-worth.html' title='A picture is worth...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-115186651453847642</id><published>2006-07-02T14:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-09T14:30:51.286-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lyrics..In Christ Alone</title><content type='html'>This is probably an old song, but I think I'm just hearing it recently, even though the first time I heard it, it felt very familiar. But maybe that's just a quality of a great song. Anyway...my favorite is in &lt;strong&gt;bold&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In Christ alone my hope is found; He is my light, my strength, my song. This cornerstone, this solid ground, firm through the fiercest drought or storm. What heighths of love?! What depths of peace!? When fears are still, when striving cease, my Comforter, my All in All. Here in the love of Christ, I stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In Christ alone Who put on flesh, fullness of God in helpless babe. This gift of love and righteousness scorned by the ones He came to save. 'Til on that cross as Jesus died, the wrath of God was satisfied, for every sin on Him was laid. Here in the death of Christ, I live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There in the ground His body lay, Light of the world by darkness slain. Then bursting forth in glorious day, up from the grave He rose again. And as He stands in victory sin's curse has lost its grip on me, for I am His, and He is mine, bought with the precious blood of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"No guilt in life, no fear in death, this is the power of Christ in me. From life's first cry 'til final breath, Jesus commands my destiny. No power of hell, no scheme of man can ever pluck me from His hand. 'Til He returns or calls me home, here in the power of Christ, I'll stand."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-115186651453847642?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/115186651453847642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=115186651453847642&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115186651453847642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115186651453847642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/07/lyricsin-christ-alone.html' title='Lyrics..In Christ Alone'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-115151774191866698</id><published>2006-06-28T13:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T14:02:21.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A note on updates...</title><content type='html'>Unfortunately, I only get the opportunity get onto the internet once or twice a week.  (Really, I'm just too cheap to get internet at my apt.)  Anyway...it just means that when I update, it's a bunch of stuff.  Perhaps it's a good lesson for me to think through what I want to say instead of continually putting one or both feet in my mouth or saying the first stupid or silly thing that comes into  my head.  This way, it's the second or third stupid or silly thing that comes out.  ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-115151774191866698?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/115151774191866698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=115151774191866698&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115151774191866698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115151774191866698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/06/note-on-updates.html' title='A note on updates...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-115151641516314060</id><published>2006-06-28T13:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T13:40:15.163-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Going soon...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.mapquest.com/maps/map.adp?formtype=address&amp;country=NI&amp;amp;addtohistory=&amp;city=jinotega"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/320/map.web.0.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click on the map to see where.  Updates will follow.  Please be praying for our group.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-115151641516314060?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/115151641516314060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=115151641516314060&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115151641516314060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115151641516314060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/06/going-soon.html' title='Going soon...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-115151541974762596</id><published>2006-06-28T13:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T14:04:16.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'>From my garden...</title><content type='html'>Here is a sample from my small garden on my balcony. Really, it's the only flower. My peony is finally growing up through the dirt, so I can tell it will be a very long time before it blooms. And my banana tree has already doubled in height! Everything else is just green, but I can't wait to have all that green indoors in the winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/1600/flower4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/320/flower4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-115151541974762596?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/115151541974762596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=115151541974762596&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115151541974762596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115151541974762596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/06/from-my-garden.html' title='From my garden...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-115030999684859485</id><published>2006-06-14T14:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T14:33:16.873-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Photos...</title><content type='html'>Recently, Mom and I were able to salvage her wedding album from the storage shed. I'm SO glad we were able to save them!! And I'm SO glad that we have things like scanners and printers and memory sticks, so I don't have to worry about losing them! Anyway...can you tell I belong to this cute couple?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/1600/wedding002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/320/wedding002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way...HELLO 1972!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-115030999684859485?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/115030999684859485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=115030999684859485&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115030999684859485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115030999684859485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/06/wedding-photos.html' title='Wedding Photos...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-115006278161598014</id><published>2006-06-11T17:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T17:53:01.626-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A broken neck?  To God be the glory!!!</title><content type='html'>Well...many things have transpired since I last wrote.  Let me start by saying, as some of you may already know, Mom's breast cancer is back and has spread.  She has been taking a hormone that, by the grace and direction of God, has been working in shrinking the tumors.  We went for a PET and a CT scan last Friday, and she got the good news of the size decrease on Tuesday.  She also received a panicked plea from her oncologist to immediately put on her neck brace (from her surgery in '03) and see a neurosurgeon the next day.  So off we went...&lt;br /&gt;At the neurosurgeon's office, the neurologist came in, told us that it appears on the CT that C2 (the second vetebrae in the spine) had collapsed and sent a large fragment of bone into the spinal canal where the spinal cord likes to stay.  (Mom fell in April in the kitchen while climbing over a dog-gate.)  She said that Mom would more than likely need surgery to correct this.  She then took Mom away to take some x-rays, while I broke down in the room.  Sometimes, one just cries almost as if it were a reflex.  When you feel that old pain and fear, you cry.  Then, after the x-rays were consulted over, the surgeon came in to talk to us.  He stated that if any other vertebrae had broken, she would have immediately been a quadraplegic.  As it just so happens, (which I &lt;em&gt;know&lt;/em&gt; how it just so happened) the area around the spinal cord in that one spot, is two to three times the space needed by the spinal cord, so that as it stands now, Mom is still up and walking and feeling almost two months after shattering C2.  He also told us that the fracture is healing and is stable at this point in time, but she is to wear her brace for the next three to six months.  As he was sharing this information, I again began to cry, but this time not because of fear.  This time, tears of absolute gratitude and awe at what God has done were shed. &lt;br /&gt;Mom and I were in shock the rest of the day, and each time I share the story, I am still (almost) speechless.  I mean...Can anyone doubt God's hand over my Mom?  Can anyone ignore the gravity of what has happened?  People have said, "How lucky!" and I want to scream, "It's not luck!!!!"  It is because the God who orders the planets and the seasons, the God who created the heavens and the earth, the God Most High reached out his hand and had mercy over my Mom's life.  Out of His love for her, He spared her from this...this...I can even find the right word for what it would have been.  I can't praise Him enough for this love and mercy!  To God be the glory!! &lt;br /&gt;Mom says that people have said to her, "Why didn't God keep you from falling?"  Her reply: "God does not always protect us from our own stupidity."  She has also said that, as if it wasn't clear enough that she was walking around on this planet by the grace of God, she is now a billboard.  (She's a little self-conscious of the collar, as we would all be.)  And even though when we look at each other now, knowing how uncomfortable the collar is, and what a hassle it is to catch a ride to and from work and to every other place you want to go, we also know what a blessing it is to be able to wear this uncomfortable collar that interferes with every aspect of your day, because it means you can continue to walk, and feel the fabric of your socks, and type, and feed yourself each day.  We have truly been blessed.  I do not pretend to even begin to understand the goodness of God.  I really don't.  We have not deserved this kindness.  I know I have been so very weak with every little challenge.  I have failed Him in SO many ways.  And yet, He chooses to bless us?  I don't understand, but I am humbly grateful.  Praise and glory to God!!  Thank You, Lord, for Your mercy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-115006278161598014?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/115006278161598014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=115006278161598014&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115006278161598014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/115006278161598014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/06/broken-neck-to-god-be-glory.html' title='A broken neck?  To God be the glory!!!'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-114515839280279999</id><published>2006-04-15T23:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T00:21:27.910-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Minutiae of Healing...</title><content type='html'>I was thinking this morning, and I guess a little over the last couple of days, about healing. There is so much that goes into healing that just isn't expressed by saying, "He made the blind to see, the lame to walk, and the dead to live again."&lt;br /&gt;Skin, for example...Normal skin takes a few days to heal.  (7-10 and sometimes longer if you want the exact numbers.) First, there is a cut. A blood clot forms in the cut because it is exposed to collagen fibers in the surrounding tissues. As various cellular hormones, etc. are expressed, that clot becomes granulation tissue. Granulation tissue is fairly nerve/pain free, but it is very vascular. Believe it or not, this makes it great at fighting off infection. It then becomes the lattice on which the basal layer of skin cells can creep across until the two edges meet. Once that occurs, it can slowly fill in the gap, going from that sensitive "baby" skin to the kind that was there before the wound occurred. A small scar is most always left behind, especially if the basal layer of skin was separated.&lt;br /&gt;As for vision...There are SO many things and differences and pathways involving the eyes. First of all, depending on what side of your eye an object is visible, it may stay visible to the ipsilateral (same) side of the brain or cross over to the contralateral (opposite) side of the brain from where you "see" it. There are areas of the brain which store visual images which only took you nanoseconds to visualize, then an immediate assessment of depth, distance, and travel velocity are calculated so you can miss the fist coming at your face, or something like it. There are areas that detect movement in the stillest of environments (FYI: these areas are huge in prey animals, because they are always looking for their lurking enemy.) The retina has areas that detect the amount of light and the color of the light wave. (If matter is matter and doesn't change, and light is both a wave and particle, and you see something as blue that I see as aquamarine, then what color is it really? It's a question I've asked since high school physics...yes, I guess I truly am a geek.) The retina then transfers all that information via two major pathways, one that crosses, and one that doesn't, and your brain puts the whole image together. Did I mention that the lens flips the image upside down and then somehow between your retina and your brain it gets flipped back right-side up? Also, there are small muscles in charge of your lens attachments in the eye. They contract (involuntarily!) to focus both far and near. All of this occurs without your even thinking about it. How we translate what we are seeing into what is real takes awhile to develop. People say that babies best see primary colors and are near sighted as they are newborns, and they slowly develop the ability to de-fuzz who that is standing over them as they get older. Along with the seeing comes the perception associated with that image. It's all very intricate.&lt;br /&gt;People who've injured limbs or had prolonged brain injury must undergo lengthy physical therapy in order to build up strength, tone, balance, and fine motor control all over again. (I actually just deleted a long section from this very spot about the spinal cord, injuries, and the daschund. You can thank me later.) Ultimately, what I mean to point out is that muscle atrophy, either by disuse or because of lack of nervous stimulation, is very hard to combat.  There are muscle fibers which are best suited to sprinting (aka. endurance fibers.) There are some dedicated to strength (aka. bulky fibers.) There are whole muscle groups devoted to keeping your balance while standing up straight on level ground. These fibers, their nervous pathways, the perception of what is being sensed and is really happening, and the coordination of movement is something that we slowly develop as we learn to flip over, rock back and forth on our hands and knees, crawl, walk, run, and then skip or dance. It takes YEARS for us to develop these skills and strengths. For example, there are no 2 year old prodigy prima dona's in the Moscow Ballet.&lt;br /&gt;Finally...I can't speak to human medicine in this area, but I was taught in school that if you really want to resuscitate an animal via CPCR (they've changed it to cardiopulmonary cerebral resuscitation, because it is no use to bring back the heart and lungs if the brain is dead), then you must open the chest and do manual cardiac massage within 60 seconds of arrest. We can pump them full of drugs, shock them with a few hundred volts, and we can get a pulse back. But if the brain is without oxygen for mere minutes, irreversible damage occurs. Nervous cells don't like to regenerate. They die and deteriorate very quickly. And as we all know, the brain is the control panel for every function in your body. There are even reflexes set in place that will try to protect your brain in the event of trauma, etc. (I'm talking about shifts in your blood pressure, even in the face of stress, that attempt to keep your brain from swelling more than has already occurred.)&lt;br /&gt;I give you this long-winded science lesson to say that when God heals a leper and makes them whole, or when the paralytic stands up, picks up his pallet, and walks out, or when the blind man washes the mud from his eyes and sees, just what a miracle has truly occurred. God is sovereign even over the smallest cells in our bodies. He orchestrates and puts into being pathways and perceptions that our brain usually takes years to put into habit. It just amazes me that our Creator is in control of EVERY detail. Nothing is left out. When He heals, He heals COMPLETELY and FULLY. I know that right now, I'm speaking mostly of His ability to heal us physically, but the spiritually implications are just as real. He CAN make the blind man to see, the lame man to walk, and the dead to rise again. I am fearfully and wonderfully made, MARVELOUS are Thy works, and that my souls knows well. Praise God for his infinite wisdom, design, and control.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-114515839280279999?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/114515839280279999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=114515839280279999&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/114515839280279999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/114515839280279999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/04/minutiae-of-healing.html' title='The Minutiae of Healing...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-114187736737822857</id><published>2006-03-08T22:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T23:09:27.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cancer...</title><content type='html'>How much do I hate that word.  I hate everything about it.  It is insidious.  It is consuming.  It brings suffering of all kinds.  It brings doubt and questions.  It brings worry and fear.  It makes every minute felt.  It forces us to face our humanity and frailty.  It drives us into the very lap of God, to Whom we look for answers, comfort, strength, and endurance. &lt;br /&gt;Can I hate cancer and love God?...Can I hate the trial and not the fellowship it brings?...Can I be so honest with God that I actually verbalize all my desires before Him, even if they may not coincide with His will?...&lt;br /&gt;This last has been just one of the struggles for me.  My head says that I am to ask God for His will to be done.  My head says it's ok to ask God to heal my Mom.  My head says to keep the requests under control and not to let my heart scream out it's own requests.  But my heart cannot be silent.  I confess that what I want may not be God's will.  It shocks me to learn that I actually struggle with being that honest with God.  I'm almost ashamed to tell God exactly what I want, because I'm afraid that I'm out of His will.  And yet, He wants us to make our requests known to Him.  I mean, He knows our hearts, and He knows what we need before we even ask.  But He does want us to ask, doesn't He?&lt;br /&gt;I feel like that small child that is having to obediently clean his room, but that whimpers and cries the entire time.  I want to throw myself onto the floor and throw the biggest tantrum ever, and then just lay there until this all goes away.  But I cannot.  I must choose to make precious memories from each day and try to keep them stored so that I will never forget the sound of her voice, or the color of her eyes, or the way that she comforts me when I'm losing it.&lt;br /&gt;Oh God...thank You for this time.  I don't like it.  I'm uncomfortable.  I'm scared.  But I know that there is a purpose in this pain.  You are sovereign, Lord.  I know You are fully aware and fully in control of everything, no matter how minor, that is going on.  Please continue to sustain.  Give us grace.  If it would be Your will, Father, heal her.  Restore her.  I know you absolutely can.  You gave muscles that were mere fibers the immediate ability and strength to not only move the joints, but to allow the finely-tuned control needed to skip and not fall down.  Muscle fibers that had never really existed in the first place.  We spend years as toddlers and children developing those skills of balance and muscle tone.  You can put them there instantly.  I know You can heal her.  But Lord, I accept Your plan.  Just keep helping me through it.  Give Mom all she needs.  Please spare her from pain.  Please, Lord.  Please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-114187736737822857?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/114187736737822857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=114187736737822857&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/114187736737822857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/114187736737822857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/03/cancer.html' title='Cancer...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-114039231843395174</id><published>2006-02-19T17:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-19T18:38:38.456-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday Mornings...</title><content type='html'>Today I was reminded about some of my favorite Saturday morning traditions and memories from many years ago.  Why was I reminded about them today, as today is Sunday?  Well...I spent the night at a friend's house last night, and due to the icy roads, church was cancelled, so we had bacon, eggs, and biscuits this morning for breakfast.  As we were cooking and then eating, I was reminded of making Saturday morning breakfasts every time I'd spend the night with one of my friends.  She and I would get up on Sat., make pancakes, bacon, toast, eggs: the works, and then everyone would sit down and have breakfast.  Recently, another friend told me that their Sat. morning tradition was for her husband to get up and make breakfast for the kids.&lt;br /&gt;    I can remember special things, as a child, I either ate or learned to make on our Sat. mornings.  We had blueberry pancakes.  And we always begged Mom to make pancake teddy bears.  (They'd have either blueberry or raisin eyes.)  I learned that the best way to make scrambled eggs is to add a little milk and use the skillet after cooking the bacon.  Or we could have omelets.  Mom is really good at flipping them perfectly.  Occasionally we'd have fresh squeezed orange juice, ('cause there was some big craze about fresh juice back then.  Pity it just takes alot of work for a tiny cup of juice.)  And on your biscuits, there is nothing like "Kentucky Jam" as my grandad called it.  You mix a little bit of butter with sorghum (aka "sorgrum" as we kids called it) or molasses, and it's delicious !!  We really didn't use too much jelly.  OH!  And on special occasions (Christmas morning or birthdays) we had country ham.  I still like to put a slice of country ham in my biscuit to make a little sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;    I LOVE Sat. morning breakfasts!!  I had completely forgotten all about them.  I have to work most every Sat. now, and my family doesn't really do the whole family-get-up-and-cook thing.  Cereal or a smoothie is usually what I'm having for breakfast these days.  And I hate that I'm not even really sure how to make sausage and gravy (another southern breakfast tradition.)  Cooking is something that I enjoy but that I don't really do if I'm cooking for just me.  You know?  Anyway...I'm hoping to change all that in the near future.  I'm told that planning a menu and actually cooking those foods is a great way to save money and have homecooked food.  SO...that's what I'm going to start doing.  (I hope.)  I want to be able to cook effortlessly.  And that isn't how I cook now.  I've told myself in the past that I'd wait until I'm married, or until I have a bigger kitchen, or until I have that KitchenAid mixer I want, or until "put condition here" to learn.  All of those are just easy excuses to justify living off of ramen noodles and sandwiches.  So...I'm saying hello to my pots and pans.  I'm taking that microwave rice maker back to Wal-Mart.  (Really, that was just a lazy purchase.  I know how to make rice; I'm just impatient.)  I'm going to crack open one of the 10 cookbooks that I have, and I'm going to start cooking.  I'll let y'all know how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;    And maybe, someday, I'll have more fun Sat. morning breakfasts with my family.  If you haven't had one in awhile, I hope you'll take the time to do it.  The memories are priceless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-114039231843395174?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/114039231843395174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=114039231843395174&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/114039231843395174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/114039231843395174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/02/saturday-mornings.html' title='Saturday Mornings...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-114037529781559250</id><published>2006-02-19T13:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-19T13:58:51.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Scripture Memorization</title><content type='html'>I read this on &lt;a href="http://www.solus-christus.blogspot.com"&gt;Jordan Thomas's blog &lt;/a&gt;back in December, and it has really helped me out. Recently, I felt burdened to memorize more, and I've started attempting James. SO...I hope this helps all those who struggle to memorize God's Word. It's amazing to me how much it helps to say the verse number prior to each verse. My brain really functions much better to recall the verse accurately when I learn it that way. The site is by &lt;a href="http://fbcdurham.org"&gt;First Baptist Church in Durham, NC&lt;/a&gt;.  Click on the link, then click "writings," then "An Approach to the Extended Memorization of Scripture."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-114037529781559250?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/114037529781559250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=114037529781559250&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/114037529781559250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/114037529781559250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/02/scripture-memorization.html' title='Scripture Memorization'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113938013904566768</id><published>2006-02-08T00:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T01:28:59.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons from a shepherd...</title><content type='html'>Currently, we are going over Psalm 23 in church.  I was told some interesting things about that psalm in relation to actual shepherding, and I have seen with my own eyes some other characteristics of sheep that explain how we as people are described as such in the Bible.  I may add more as Bro. Gary goes along, but here is what I've learned thus far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 "&lt;em&gt;The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;Sheep are totally dependant upon the shepherd.  Sheep are not very bright creatures.  Without a leader, they scatter.  I watched a professor in school one time training his dog.  There were four sheep.  The dog cut the leader from the group, and the other three were clueless.  They all ran together, but each in different directions.  (It was like one of those vector equations in geometry.  The one in the middle ran straight, and the ones on each side ran towards the other side.)  Sheep are helpless.  So are we.  And because the LORD is our shepherd, we shall not want for anything.  He has promised to provide all we need for life and godliness.  If He clothes the lilies and feeds the birds, how much more will He provide for us?  Jehovah Jireh: God Who Provides.  The LORD is my shepherd.  I shall not want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 "&lt;em&gt;He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;Sheep do not drink from fast-running water.  They cannot rest when there is stress.  The shepherd leads them to peace and nourishment.  It is the same for us.  He is our Sabbath rest.  Without Him, there is no peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 "&lt;em&gt;He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;When a sheep was prone to wander, the shepherd would break it's leg and set it straight again.  Then, during the healing process, the sheep would, by necessity, stay close to the shepherd.  For it's own protection, some pain must be encountered, but the end result was a closer walk with the shepherd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 "&lt;em&gt;Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and staff, they comfort me&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;The rod and staff were used both for defense and discipline.  Who would have thought that the discipline of the Lord would be a comfort, but He says that he disciplines those whom He loves.  What a comfort to know that we can trust Him and be grateful for His protection and His discipline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 "&lt;em&gt;Thou dost prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; Thou has anointed my head with oil; My cup overflows&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;The shepherd would go into the fields ahead of the sheep and plug any holes where predators (snakes, etc) may be dwelling.  A table prepared in the presence of enemies.  He would also put oil on their heads to keep insects away.  How much does the shepherd care for his sheep?!  Of course the cup overflows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 "&lt;em&gt;Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113938013904566768?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113938013904566768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113938013904566768&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113938013904566768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113938013904566768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/02/lessons-from-shepherd.html' title='Lessons from a shepherd...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113824788324537058</id><published>2006-01-25T22:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T22:58:03.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Next Thing...</title><content type='html'>Well...I have determined my next thing.  I'm moving.  I've been praying about it for several months (if not for the past 2 years), and things have just finally fallen into place.  You see...I think God finally hit me over the head with a tack hammer.  Recently, I had been telling some of my friends that no matter how crazy your authority is, you should trust that God will protect you if you obey...ie.  if you're under His authority, then you're under His protection.  Well...one night, Mom and I were having a discussion, when I realized that &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;wasn't under my authority.  She was saying "it's time," and I was saying, "oh, you don't know."  Umm...Hello?!?  Anyway...so...all these doors started to open, and even though I don't know what I'm doing, or why, I know that I should take each step as it comes.&lt;br /&gt;It's a strange feeling.  People have asked, "are you excited?"  Well...I'm not sure.  Others have asked why on earth I'm moving out.  All I can say is that it's the next step and that it's time.  Other than that, I don't know.  That's what's strange.  I'm not one that adapts to change easily, and I very seldom step out without having the next 10 years mapped out, etc.  But I'm learning.  And I &lt;strong&gt;am&lt;/strong&gt; excited to know that I'm moving as God directs.  And that's enough for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113824788324537058?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113824788324537058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113824788324537058&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113824788324537058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113824788324537058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2006/01/next-thing.html' title='The Next Thing...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113581327058285488</id><published>2005-12-28T17:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-01T23:28:17.576-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Yardman Strikes Again....</title><content type='html'>Ok....I am struggling a little...well, a lot, with all things relating to Random Yardman. Let me clue some of you in to the past few days.&lt;br /&gt;First of all, this new guy is really Random Yardman number 2 (RY2). The other one hasn't been back since last spring. Maybe they rotate neighborhoods. Anyway...he showed up at 3pm two days before Christmas and asked for $100 to rake our yard. A. That is OUTRAGEOUS for our yard. We don't live on 5 acres. Most of the leaves have already been taken care of, and he expected us to provide the bags. B. Do you really plan on starting a yard at 3pm? C. That is OUTRAGEOUS. So...after he gives Mom some long sap story...she agrees to let him work. THEN, after working 2 hours, and ringing the doorbell no less than 3 times in the 2 hours, he asks for an advance. Again with the sap story and a promise to return to finish. Mom said she told him that she trusted the Lord, because when He sent someone to help her, He always made sure they finished. His reply, "That's right; that's right. The Lord sent me."&lt;br /&gt;So...on Christmas Eve, he returned...this time, he was brought by a policeman. To make a long story short, the policeman told him that if he didn't finish our yard in a time he (the policeman) thought was appropriate, that he would be coming after RY2. Mom said, "Well...I guess the Lord wanted to make sure that he came back to finish the job."&lt;br /&gt;He came back today. He got very upset when he found out that Mom was not there to get him some garbage bags and to pay him. He began to give me the sap story and demanded I call her. So...I called her, and we determined that I would get the bags and his money, and since I had to leave shortly, Will would look over the work when RY2 was finished and pay him, if it was complete. When I left, there were open bags of leaves everywhere. When I arrived home...there were open bags of leaves everywhere. When I called my brother to ask what happened, he told me that RY2 was finished. I asked about the open bags, and Will said that RY2 promised that he'd close them and put them on the side of the road. So he paid him and left. So...I closed the bags and put them on the side of the road.&lt;br /&gt;I have spent much of today ranting and raving about being conned and taken and how irate it makes me. Maybe it's a result of getting robbed at knifepoint in my car for accidentally cutting someone off. Maybe it's a result of being harassed in Subway by someone asking for money and then making comments about cutting someone up for crossing his path. Maybe it's a result of working over 40 hours a week, cleaning house, etc. in my spare time, and being taught that everything you do should be as if doing it for the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;And it is this last statement that causes me trouble. It makes me really mad to feel taken advantage of. I've really considered putting up a sign at both doors: "NO SOLICITING!!! This means for yardwork, Girl Scout cookies, hand-outs, etc." However...when I think that what that really says is, "If you're looking for grace, you'll not find it here," that upsets me. I mean, Mom, and even my brother, has this soft place for people out to do a very little work for an unreasonable amount of money. I think our house is well known. I'm sure they say to each other, "Try to avoid going if the little white car is there. Look for the silver one." Mom and I have gone round and round over this kind of thing. I find it very easy to say "no." She says yes, tries to hide it from me, and then inevitably I find out, and we have a discussion about being suckered. I hate it.&lt;br /&gt;And I really hate thinking that I have no mercy. Where is my compassion? And then I wonder...well, does having compassion mean being blind to being suckered? I mean, shouldn't we be able to expect to give what is due when it is due, and not until then? That guy had no intention of returning to our yard. At least, not until he needed the rest of the money. Had that policeman not told him that he would be seeking him out, RY2 would not have come back. And now...since I would rather have a yard free of open leaf-bags, when that policeman drives by, he will think that the job was done and go on about his way.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't thought about myself as a heartless tight-wad. I like to think that I'm a generous, big-hearted, softy. HA !!!! One can dream. Anyway...It's times like these that I'm aware of the cynicism that is growing within me. There has to be a balance to it. Surely, there is a balance. I don't think that compassion is blind. I think compassion sees exactly what is there and still has pity. But it is not blind. Lord, help me to see what You see, and to act as You would want me to. Help me to not let the anger that wells up within me to govern my actions if You say to act otherwise. Show me what the balance is. I want it to be obvious that You, O Lord, are responsible for the grace being given and received. I don't want people to look at me and question my love for You. If being suckered is what it's going to take, then Lord let it be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113581327058285488?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113581327058285488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113581327058285488&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113581327058285488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113581327058285488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/12/random-yardman-strikes-again.html' title='Random Yardman Strikes Again....'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113565183518152299</id><published>2005-12-26T20:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-26T21:50:35.196-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Brushing Hair"...from Further Still by Beth Moore</title><content type='html'>I was in Knoxville airport waiting to board my plane.  I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing.  I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord.  I say that because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you.  You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise.  Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for  a thousand reasons not the least of which is your ego......            &lt;br /&gt;I tried to keep from staring but he was such a strange sight.  Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier.  His knees protruded from underneath  his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his  shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of veins and bones.  The strangest part of him was his hair and nails.  Stringy grey hair hungwell over his shoulders and down part of his back.  His fingernails were long.  Clean, but strangely out of place on an old man. &lt;br /&gt;I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my face.  As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting.  Then, I remembered reading somewhere that he was dead.  So this man in the airport...an impersonator maybe?   Was a camera on us somewhere?....&lt;br /&gt;There I sat trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me. All the while my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him.  Let's admit it.   Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern, and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old man.&lt;br /&gt;I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall.   I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen.  And it may be embarrassing!   I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind.  "Oh no, God please no."   I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it into heaven and said, "Don't make me witness to this man.  Not right here and now.  Please!   I'll do anything!   Put me on the same plane, but don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!" ...&lt;br /&gt;There I sat in  begging His Highness, "Please don't make me witness to this man.  Not now!   I'll do it on the plane.  Then I heard it..."I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to brush his hair."  The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts  spun like a top.   Do I witness to the man or brush his hair?   No brainer.   I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, "God, as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man, now.   I'm on this Lord.   I'm you're girl! You've never seen a woman witness to a man faster in  your life.  What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if  he is not redeemed?   I am on him.   I am going to witness to this man."&lt;br /&gt;Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write this statement across the wall of my mind. "That is not what I said, Beth. I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to go brush his hair."  I looked up at God and quipped, "I don't have a hairbrush, it's in my suitcase. How am I suppose to brush his hair without a hairbrush?"...&lt;br /&gt;God was so insistent that I  involuntarily began to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word: "I will thoroughly finish you unto all good works." (2 Tim 3:7)   I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself.   Even as I retell this story my pulse  quickens and I feel those same butterflies.  I knelt down in front of the man, and asked as demurely as possible, "Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?"            &lt;br /&gt;He looked back at me and said, "What did you say?"   "May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?"  To which he  responded in volume ten, "Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that. At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, "SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?"  At which point every eye in the place darted right at me. I was the only thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks.   Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on  his face, and say, "If you really want to."  Are you kidding?  Of course I didn't want to.  But God didn't seem interested in my personal preference right about then.   He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, "Yes, sir, I would be pleased.  But I have one little problem, I don't have a hairbrush."   "I have one in my bag," he responded.   I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger's old  carry-on,  hardly believing what I was doing.   I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair.   It was perfectly clean, and clean smelling, but it was tangled and matted.  I  don't do many things well, but I must admit I've had notable experience untangling knotted hair, mothering two little girls.   Like I'd done with either Amanda or Melissa in such a condition,  I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull.      &lt;br /&gt;A miraculous  thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man's hair.   Everybody else in the room disappeared.   There was no one alive for those moments except that old man and me.   I brushed and I brushed and I brushed until  every tangle was out of that hair.   I know this sounds so strange but I've never felt that kind of love for another soul in my entire life.   I  believe with all my heart, I--for that few minutes--felt a portion of the very love of God.   That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like someone renting a room and making Himself at home for a short while.   The emotions  were so strong and so pure that I knew they had to be God's.&lt;br /&gt;His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's.  I slipped  the brush back in the bag, went around the chair to face him.   I got back  down on my knees, put my hands on his knees, and said, "Sir, do you know my Jesus?"  He said, "Yes, I do."  Well, that figures!  He explained, "I've known Him since I married my bride.  She wouldn't marry me until I got to know the Savior.    You see, the problem is, I haven't seen my bride in months.   I've had open-heart surgery, and she's been too ill to come see me.   I was sitting here thinking to myself, "What a mess I must be for my bride."&lt;br /&gt;Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine  moment when we're completely unaware of the significance.    This, on the other  hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known.   It was a God moment, and I'll never forget it. &lt;br /&gt;Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane.   I was deeply  ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have  accompanied him on that aircraft.  I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board the plane, an airline hostess returned from the corridor,  tears streaming down her cheeks.  She said, "That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing.  Can you tell me what made you do that kind act?"  I said "Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest thing!" &lt;br /&gt;I learned something about God that day. He knows if you're exhausted, or hungry, if you're serving in the wrong place or it is time to move on but you feel too responsible to budge.   He knows if you're hurting or feeling rejected.   He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of temptation.   Or, He knows if you just need your hair brushed.   He  sees you as an individual. Tell Him your need! &lt;br /&gt;I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way...all  because I didn't want people to think I was strange.  God didn't send me to that old man.   He sent that old man to me.&lt;br /&gt;John 1:14 "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.  We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113565183518152299?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113565183518152299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113565183518152299&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113565183518152299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113565183518152299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/12/brushing-hairfrom-further-still-by.html' title='&quot;Brushing Hair&quot;...from Further Still by Beth Moore'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113392693290690878</id><published>2005-12-26T20:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-26T21:53:23.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>While in exile...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, &lt;em&gt;to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile&lt;/em&gt; from Jerusalem to Babylon, 'Build houses, and &lt;em&gt;live&lt;/em&gt; in them; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and plant gardens, and eat their produce.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Take wives and become the fathers of sons and daughters, and take wives for your sons and give your daughters to husbands, that they may bear sons and daughters; and multiply there and &lt;em&gt;do not decrease&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And &lt;em&gt;seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile&lt;/em&gt;, and pray to the Lord on its behalf; for in its welfare you will have welfare.'...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"For thus says the Lord, 'When seventy years have been completed for Babylon, I will visit you and fulfill My good word to you, to bring you back to this place. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'For I know the plans that I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Then you will &lt;em&gt;call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you&lt;/em&gt;. And you will &lt;em&gt;seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I will be found by you,' declares the Lord, '&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and I will restore your fortunes and will gather you from all the nations and from all the places where I have driven you,' declares the Lord,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'and &lt;em&gt;I will bring you back to the place from where I sent you into exile&lt;/em&gt;.'" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Jeremiah 29:4-7, 10-14&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113392693290690878?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113392693290690878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113392693290690878&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113392693290690878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113392693290690878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/12/while-in-exile.html' title='While in exile...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113522439445205705</id><published>2005-12-21T22:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T23:07:30.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hold On....Nicole Nordeman</title><content type='html'>"It will find you at the bottom of a bottle. I will find you at the needle's end. It will find you when you beg, steal, and borrow. It will follow you into a stranger's bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It will find you when they serve you with the papers. It will find you when the locks are changed again. It will find you when you've called in all your favors. It will reach you on the bridge's highest ledge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, baby, don't look down; it's a long way. The sun will come around for a new day. So, hold on; love will find you. Hold on; He's right behind you now. Just turn around, and love will find you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It will find you when the doctor's head is shaking. It will find you in a boardroom, mostly dead. It will crawl into the foxhole where you're praying. It will curl up in your halfway empty bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, baby, don't believe that it's over. Baby, you can't see 'round the corner. So, hold on; love will find you. Hold on; He's right behind you now. Just turn around, and love will find you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To hang between two thieves in the the darkness, love must believe you are worth it. You're worth it. So, hold on; love will find you. Hold on; He's right behind you now. Just turn around; He's right behind you now. Just turn around; Love will find you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113522439445205705?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113522439445205705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113522439445205705&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113522439445205705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113522439445205705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/12/hold-onnicole-nordeman.html' title='Hold On....Nicole Nordeman'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113522399387880747</id><published>2005-12-21T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T22:59:53.896-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Command whatever You will...</title><content type='html'>"On your exceedingly great mercy rests all my hope.  Give what you command, and then command whatever you will.  You order us to practice continence.  A certain writer tells us, &lt;em&gt;I knew that no one can be continent except by God's gift, and that it is already a mark of wisdom to recognize whose gift this is.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;57&lt;/span&gt;  By continence the scattered elements of the self are collected and brought back into the unity from which we have slid away into dispersion; for anyone who loves something else along with you, but does not love it for your sake, loves you less.  O Love, ever burning, never extinguished, O Charity, my God, set me on fire!  You command continence: give what you command, and then command whatever you will."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-St. Augustine X:40&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;57&lt;/span&gt;: Wis 8:21&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113522399387880747?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113522399387880747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113522399387880747&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113522399387880747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113522399387880747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/12/command-whatever-you-will.html' title='Command whatever You will...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113444867234390765</id><published>2005-12-12T22:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-12T23:40:20.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Belong....Chris Rice</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Fading memories ignored, I crawl across the forest floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pool reflects an orphan child, dirty, lost, alone, and wild.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fatherless, and nameless still; fallen heart, and broken,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Will there ever be a place where I belong?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"I cower 'neath the monster trees, and try to stand on tired feet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But gravity knocks me to the ground, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;where I give up and tears roll down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I claw the dust and beg the end, curse the day that I began to hope&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;there'd be a place where I belong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"I hear a sound I recognize. You lift my chin and seek my eyes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The song of love You sing to me, I ache to sing it back to Thee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Father Love prepares a place, and brother Jesus leads the way,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Follow to the place where you belong.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"How did I miss this wondrous song? The forest sang it all along.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;River rinses all your shame, and Father offers you His name.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Father Love prepares a home, and brother Jesus leads you on,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Follow to the place where you belong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Father Love prepares a place, and brother Jesus leads the way,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Follow to the place where you belong."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113444867234390765?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113444867234390765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113444867234390765&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113444867234390765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113444867234390765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/12/belongchris-rice.html' title='Belong....Chris Rice'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113313343901156081</id><published>2005-11-27T17:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-27T18:17:19.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Egg Bowl 2005</title><content type='html'>I wasn't able to get there, but I really wish I had been !!!!!! Go Dawgs !!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/1600/eggbowl05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/400/eggbowl05.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113313343901156081?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113313343901156081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113313343901156081&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113313343901156081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113313343901156081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/11/egg-bowl-2005.html' title='Egg Bowl 2005'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113278045851057711</id><published>2005-11-23T15:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T16:14:18.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stewardship....</title><content type='html'>"We make a living by what we get; we make a life by what we give."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;-Winston Churchill&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113278045851057711?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113278045851057711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113278045851057711&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113278045851057711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113278045851057711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/11/stewardship.html' title='Stewardship....'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113220010594871170</id><published>2005-11-16T22:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T23:01:45.963-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trail of the cross...</title><content type='html'>"If you are properly devoted to the Lord Jesus, you have reached the lofty height where no one would ever notice you personally. All that is noticed is the power of God coming through you all the time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got this quote from a link on my friend Leigh Anne's blog. I once heard it said that when you pick up your cross daily and follow Jesus, you don't leave your footprints behind, but you leave the trail of the cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To read this full devotion click here: &lt;a href="http://www.rbc.org/utmost/"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/200/oc.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113220010594871170?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113220010594871170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113220010594871170&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113220010594871170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113220010594871170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/11/trail-of-cross.html' title='Trail of the cross...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113211056199160318</id><published>2005-11-15T21:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-18T00:45:15.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Photos from CA...</title><content type='html'>My brother and I recently went to Santa Barbara, CA to visit my grandmother (Dad's mom), Aunt Janet, and Cousin Willis. (Lizzie couldn't join us 'cause she was studying for some big tests.) It was BEAUTIFUL !!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/1600/fam1.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/400/fam1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is (l to r) my brother, Aunt Janet, Poke (aka grandmother), and Willis. This was taken at the Mission in Santa Barbara. It was built sometime in the 1700s. It's really beautiful and full of history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/1600/flower1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/400/flower1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this picture at a Danish village up the coast from Santa Barbara. There was a huge windmill and all sorts of pastry shoppes. (Ah yes, the olde worlde spellingse.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/1600/fam2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/400/fam2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here we are on the coast! We ate at this great little seafood place on the pier. We were sitting there, eating our lobster bisque, and these HUGE crabs were attempting an escape from the tank. The smaller ones would stand on top of each other, and the larger ones would take a running start like  gymnasts jumping over the pummel horse. Too bad...they didn't make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/1600/flower2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/400/flower2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; How cool is this hydrangea??!!?? They had a bunch of them at this old hotel where we had Sunday brunch before having to say goodbye. The hotel was on the side of a mountain with this AWESOME view of the coast through the trees. It just blows my mind!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/1600/poke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/400/poke.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; At the same hotel, they had this huge garden, complete with fountain and little pool with fish. I can't imagine living someplace where spring/summer is how you spend your entire year. No overcoats. No scarves. I'd love it, but I'd miss my scarves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113211056199160318?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113211056199160318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113211056199160318&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113211056199160318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113211056199160318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/11/photos-from-ca.html' title='Photos from CA...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113194313923645548</id><published>2005-11-13T22:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T22:54:19.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Be prepared...this one is long...</title><content type='html'>"&lt;strong&gt;Early Morning at the Manse: How a Father Fights for His Faith and His Family&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;-John Piper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Click&lt;/em&gt;. KSJN plays softly. &lt;em&gt;Click&lt;/em&gt;. I turn it off in three seconds. It is 6:00 a.m. I want Noel to sleep till 6:30. I slip out from under the sheet and quilt and tuck them in around her again. 'God, I'm tired. Help me.' I can hardly move. My eyelids are paralyzed. I can lift them with my fingers. Not necessary. My blue energy boot slippers and terry cloth robe are in their usual spot on the floor by the bed. I could find them in my sleep.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sitting on the edge of the bed. 'Maybe I should sleep in this morning. Noel can get the boys off to school. I might get sick if I don't get more rest. I'll be more efficient. I spent half of my 'day off' at the hospital....Get off of me, Satan! In the name of Jesus Christ, the Almighty, get off my back! God, I'm tired. Help me....Those who wait upon the Lord will renew their strength. They will mount up with wings like eagles. They will run and not be weary.' (Isaiah 40:31)&lt;br /&gt;"The slippers and robe are on now. The night-light in the bathroom spills out into the hall. I creep by the open door of the boys' bedroom on the way to the basement. 'God, thank you for my sons. Oh, how I love my boys! Wake them up in righteousness, Jesus.'&lt;br /&gt;"The basement has no heat, but one room is finished and has a carpet and a sofa and a desk. &lt;em&gt;Click&lt;/em&gt;. I turn the three-way lamp on low. It is 6:05. The Bible is open on the couch from the day before. There is an orange pillow for my elbows. I throw the brown sweater Noel made over my head like a monk's habit (to keep off the draft from the window) and begin.&lt;br /&gt;"'God, I'm tired. Help me. Please, open my eyes so I can see wonders in your Word. Oh, God. Mighty God! Maker of heaven and earth and all the galaxies of the universe. That you should lend an ear to me in this little room half awake. That you should occupy yourself with me while millions of your people pray, and all the while you hold New York and Tokyo and Paris in the palm of your hand. That you should call this tempted flesh the temple of the Holy Spirit. That you speak to me from this page as personally and powerfully as though you sat here on the couch and talked. Oh, God, what condescension. What unutterable mercy to attend to a little ant like me. Help me believe, O God, and feel this truth: that all my hairs are numbered. 'Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God' (Psalm 42:5-6, RSV).&lt;br /&gt;"And now for my wife, Lord. Thank you for her. Protect her from harm and from the evil one. Give her joy in the ministry with me. Waken her this morning with a song of praise in her heart and on her lips. Give her vision for service in this neighborhood. Incline her heart to the Word and not to getting gain. Fill her with your Spirit--of wisdom and joy and righteousness. Make her a wise and happy mother. Oh, bind our hearts together as you bind our hearts to yours.&lt;br /&gt;"And finally, my sons. Even in their sleep, Lord, turn their hearts to you. And when I wake them with your Word, sow that seed in humble, open soil. And send its roots down to the inner heart and make an oak of faith. Oh, Christ, take my sons for your servants. Obliterate rebellion from their hearts. And may they grow to godly manhood, full of love to you and love to men. Let them not love the world, nor give a hoot for things or praise. But may your glory be their passion day and night until the Kingdom comes.&lt;br /&gt;"I meditate on Mark today and try to see the inner meaning on the miracle of the feeding of the five thousand. I think it means that Jesus is the all-sufficient One. Little is much when he is in it. You can never give so much that you have nothing left over.&lt;br /&gt;"The grandfather clock sounds half the Westminster chime. It is 6:30. My heart is full. My eyes are open. My faith is alive. My joy is warm. My conscience is still. My hope is strong. I will awaken them all with love!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.desiringgod.org"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/320/jp1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The above was from &lt;em&gt;Taste and See&lt;/em&gt; by John Piper. I highly recommend it. Oh, Lord...for a husband who prays like that...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113194313923645548?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113194313923645548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113194313923645548&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113194313923645548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113194313923645548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/11/be-preparedthis-one-is-long.html' title='Be prepared...this one is long...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113150795315492004</id><published>2005-11-08T22:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T22:45:53.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10 Reasons to Listen to Questions Before You Answer</title><content type='html'>Fresh Words from John Piper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God has been showing me how lately I really have a bad habit of doing this. Click the link to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.desiringgod.org/library/fresh_words/2005/102505.html"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/320/dg.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113150795315492004?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113150795315492004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113150795315492004&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113150795315492004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113150795315492004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/11/10-reasons-to-listen-to-questions.html' title='10 Reasons to Listen to Questions Before You Answer'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113131650548538435</id><published>2005-11-06T17:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T18:10:23.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 26</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What Makes God's Work Shine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Brother Masseo asked Saint Francis of Assisi why all the world should go running after him, who was neither handsome nor learned nor even of noble birth. At this, Francis was overjoyed, and after kneeling to thank God, said, "Why me? Why me? The all-seeing God, looking down and finding nothing viler on Earth, quite naturally fixed His gaze on me. For to make His work shine forth in men's eyes, the Lord takes what is learned, strong, and noble, so that the glory may go to the sole Author of all good."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We are only pots--common ones of clay--so that the splendid power may belong to God and not to us (see 2 Cor 4:7).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.elisabethelliot.org"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/320/ee9.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; {From Elisabeth Elliot's &lt;em&gt;A Lamp Unto My Feet&lt;/em&gt;}&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113131650548538435?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113131650548538435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113131650548538435&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113131650548538435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113131650548538435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/11/day-26.html' title='Day 26'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113116563272935600</id><published>2005-11-04T22:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-04T23:40:32.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So...Do you trust me?</title><content type='html'>This past Wednesday night was Family Night Supper, and I made my apple crisp for the first time this season.  How much do I love apple crisp?  Very much.  Anyway...on FNS nights, we break from the usual lesson with the kids and either sing the whole time or go to small groups or play or whatever.  This past Wed., we sang some Christmas carols in preparation for our Christmas program.  We only had 5 kids, so it was kinda relaxed.  Well...after about 20 minutes, the kids were tired of singing, and so we did a short lesson.  It was something I had done with the 4-6 year olds, but since it might be new to them, I decided to share.&lt;br /&gt;    I'm sure everyone has participated at some point in time in a "trust fall."  You know..."close your eyes, hold out your arms, and just fall back, trusting that someone will catch you."  Well...I asked for a volunteer.  (About 10 hands went up.  Remember, there's only 5 kids.)  I asked my volunteer if he trusted me.  "Yes."  So I tried to get him to fall back.  Um...no.  About 15 degrees into the fall, he started stepping back and just leaning.  So...We discussed that we can SAY that we trust someone, and we can THINK that we trust someone, but our ACTIONs will tell the truth.&lt;br /&gt;     What does God say about trust?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Prov 3:5-6&lt;/div&gt;    Then we discussed the fact that it's scary to trust.  And sometimes it surprises us to discover that we don't trust as much as we think we do.  Nonetheless...God, who is SO worthy of our complete and utter trust, demands it of us.&lt;br /&gt;    And what surprised me, I think, most of all during this lesson, is that as I'm teaching, I'm hearing God say, "this lesson is for you."  I even told the kids, toward the end of the lesson, that I struggle somewhere between the THINK and the ACTION of trust.  It's scary for me, too.  I don't stand before them as someone who has learned the lesson and perfected it in practice.  I'm still learning and forcing myself to ACT like I trust God.  The next morning, I had such hope, as I recited that verse over and over on the way to work.  When I am puzzled by things, and confused as to whether I've got it figured out or not, "do not lean on (my) own understanding." &lt;br /&gt;"Trust in the Lord with all your heart." &lt;br /&gt;    Right now, that is a truth and command that I must cling to tightly.  Actually, it's a common thread throughout my short life.  Trusting has always been hard for me.  For someone who's had as many sudden, out-of-my-control events in my life, you'd think that trusting was something that would come easily to me.  I mean, who better to be accustomed to not being in control?  Not so much the case.  But God is teaching, and I'm learning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113116563272935600?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113116563272935600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113116563272935600&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113116563272935600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113116563272935600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/11/sodo-you-trust-me.html' title='So...Do you trust me?'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-113046894130228624</id><published>2005-10-27T21:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T21:17:55.563-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If...</title><content type='html'>"&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;If&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I can enjoy a joke at the expense of another;&lt;br /&gt;if I can in any way slight another in conversation,&lt;br /&gt;or even in thought,&lt;br /&gt;then I know nothing of Calvary love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;"Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Keep watch over the door of my lips."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Psalm 141:3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;If&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I belittle those whom I am called to serve,&lt;br /&gt;talk of their weak points in constrast with what I&lt;br /&gt;think of as my strong points;&lt;br /&gt;if I adopt a superior attitude, forgetting&lt;br /&gt;'who made thee to differ? and what hast thou that&lt;br /&gt;thou hast not received?'&lt;br /&gt;then I know nothing of Calvary love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dohnavurfellowship.org"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/320/ac5.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; IF&lt;/strong&gt;: written by Amy Carmichael&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-113046894130228624?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/113046894130228624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=113046894130228624&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113046894130228624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/113046894130228624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/10/if.html' title='If...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112994996944322193</id><published>2005-10-22T23:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T00:02:41.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"This is what I do when I'm excited:"...</title><content type='html'>One of the benefits that I have as a single girl, is that I get to play, hang out with, and observe all of my friends' kids.  I &lt;strong&gt;love&lt;/strong&gt; watching them and seeing their little personalities.  I have seen the older children convince the younger that the toy he has is not really the one he wants, and wouldn't he like to trade?  And their facial expressions are &lt;strong&gt;huge&lt;/strong&gt;.  There is no subtle movement. When the eyebrows are up, they are WAY up.  When the smile shows teeth, it shows ALL of the teeth.  They will run and hug you, even give you a kiss sometimes, when all you did was walk in the door and smile at them.  They do not leave you in doubt of what they are feeling.&lt;br /&gt;    I also help out with the Wednesday Night Live (WNL) childrens' ministry on (obviously) Wed. nights.  I lead the music time, and then I teach, when they are there, the 4-6 year olds.  There is one in particular who gave me the title of this post.  His name is Ryan, and he is 6.  He told me one night that "this" (the motion I'm about to describe) is what he does when he's excited about something.  Imagine, if you will, a little boy with brown hair and big brown eyes.  He takes his hands and puts them with the back of his wrists to each side of his nose.  Then he wriggles his little fingers back and forth and amongst each other, while giggling, squinting his eyes, and hopping back and forth on each foot very quickly.  If you've ever seen a little puppy try to contain all of its excited energy in one place, then you've seen Ryan's excited expression.  Whenever the kids get split up into groups and given a challenge to complete, or they are told they can go to the treasure box and get a piece of candy, or they get cookies after dinner, or they get to go to the playground, you'll see Ryan doing his little motion.  It is just too precious, and it brings a smile to my face to SEE him be happy.&lt;br /&gt;    This past week, we had a visitor at WNL.  His name is Chris, and he turned 16 years old on Wed.  Why, might you ask, would a 16 year old be attending a childrens' ministry?  (The program is for 4 year olds and up through the 6th grade.)  The reason is because Chris was born addicted to cocaine.  He wears a hearing aid, and mentally, he is many years younger than his age.  Anyway...It was his birthday, and Bro. Gary suggested we get him a cake, etc.  So we did.  I &lt;em&gt;wish&lt;/em&gt; that you could have seen his face when we came out singing "Happy Birthday" with that cake.  At first, he was puzzled...then he pointed to himself, as if to question the gift.  When we sang his name, and he realized it was HIS cake...he bounced up and down in his chair, clapped his hands rapidly, and just squealed with joy.  He looked around at all the kids singing and all the adults singing, and just grinned the biggest grin ever.  He was SO excited!!  His mom came up later and said that he had just asked her earlier if he would get a cake for his birthday, and she had said yes, not knowing if she could get him one.  It has been a few days since that happened, and it still brings tears to my eyes.  I had the priviledge of being a part of bringing a child such joy that he couldn't even contain it.&lt;br /&gt;    I think that as adults, we somehow lose that freedom...the freedom of trying our hardest to express joy inexpressible.  We keep up that facade of "maturity" and stand or sit still.  Or maybe that's not our problem. Maybe we don't get excited about anything anymore.  Maybe all the joy in life has been drained away, and we don't even know that it happened.  Heaven please forbid.&lt;br /&gt;    As I watched that precious boy clap and laugh at the knowledge of receiving such a small gift, I thought, "I bet God loves it when we do the same to Him."  I mean...what is a true expression of joy without also being an expression of gratitude?  I'm not saying that every time we are overflowing with joy that we should run around, screaming and shouting.  And I'm not saying that we should stand sedately, thinking we lose reverance if we budge.  But when was the last time that in the &lt;em&gt;solitude&lt;/em&gt; of your bedroom, apartment, car, where-ever, you laughed and jumped around because you couldn't contain the joy inside?  Chris Rice sings about it.  Little kids do it impulsively.  King David danced with joy, because he just couldn't be still and express that much joy.  The word "overflow" means that it is SO MUCH that it can't be contained.&lt;br /&gt;    Unbeknownst to some of you, and sadly, known a little too well to a few others, I still jump up and down and scream and laugh when I'm really excited or happy.  I can't help it.  I'm still a kid in many ways.  And I don't want to get into some long discussion on the appropriate posture or behavior for worship (ie. in the church).  I just hope that each of us, in our daily, personal walk with the Lord, would show &lt;strong&gt;Him&lt;/strong&gt; some of that uncontainable joy that is a result of knowing Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112994996944322193?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112994996944322193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112994996944322193&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112994996944322193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112994996944322193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/10/this-is-what-i-do-when-im-excited.html' title='&quot;This is what I do when I&apos;m excited:&quot;...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112951671652168386</id><published>2005-10-16T20:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T22:02:19.556-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Do the next thing...</title><content type='html'>My brother and I were talking, oh, probably about a month or more ago, about the future and setting goals and stuff. He said that he had always supposed the main difference between the two of us was that I set goals to achieve, and he didn't. Of course, I had to set the record straight. I don't know that I've ever really set a goal in my life. I've just always done the next thing. Hard to believe for some, I guess, but it's really true. A couple of years ago, I came across this poem (from an old Saxon legend) in Elisabeth Elliot's &lt;em&gt;Secure in the Everlasting Arms&lt;/em&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Many a questioning, many a fear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Many a doubt hath its quieting here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Moment by moment, let down from heaven,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Time, opportunity, guidance are given.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fear not tomorrows, child of the King--&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Trust them with Jesus. Do the next thing!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Anyway...we were talking about him finding a job and what kind, and for how long, etc. And I passed along that little bit of advice, as well as some other encouragement I'd been given by some friends, in that as we do the next thing, God shows us the next thing, and then the next, etc. Well...he got a job, one that he's not super excited about, but that he can do and at the end of three months, he/they will decide if he will stay or not. Well...he now knows he doesn't really want to stay, but he hasn't known in what direction to go. WELL...he told me the other night that as someone was checking out (Will is a receptionist at a vet clinic. Go figure!), he had to explain some charges on the guy's bill. To make a interesting-to-probably-only-me-story short, he found out that they both have the same degree, and that this guy (a prosecuting attorney) may have a job for him whenever he's ready. THEN that same day, he met someone he already knew but found out that she, too, is a receptionist at a vet clinic, and looking to work at a different clinic. Voila! Possible new job and possible new replacement in the same day.&lt;/div&gt;While I was listening to Will get excited about the possibility of this new job, and being amazed at how it was all coming together, I, too, was in awe. I mean, could this possibly demonstrate any better "Trust them to Jesus. Do the next thing"?&lt;br /&gt;So as I walk, I am reminded of this: "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." (Ps 119:105). As most everyone has heard, the lamp that you carry shows only enough light for the next step, and no more. I have just really been encouraged to see, yet again, how God WILL show you the next step, and then the next, and so on. Plus, I have also seen how the steps may not come day to day or week to week. My brother and I had that discussion close to a month or more ago. It wasn't until this week that he got, quite possibly, the next thing. Other friends have said it took years before the next thing was brought. You see, I get so impatient to see God move quickly. But He doesn't move on my timetable. (Hallelujah!) The thing to remember is that He IS moving.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so elementary in my learning processes. I've had this knowledge for quite some time now, and yet I didn't really get it. I am still learning to trust God in EVERY aspect of my life. I mean, it's easy to trust God with my husband, house, and kids. These are things I DON'T have and DON'T face on a daily basis. However, I worry about all sorts of other little things that are completely stupid. How freeing and relaxing it is to KNOW that God is at work, and that He WILL show me the next thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.elisabethelliot.org"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/320/ee2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    By the way, I HIGHLY recommend &lt;em&gt;Secure in the Everlasting Arms&lt;/em&gt; by Elisabeth Elliot. She is such a great author, and when I read it the first time, I thought for sure she had written it just for me. Get it. Read it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112951671652168386?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112951671652168386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112951671652168386&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112951671652168386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112951671652168386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/10/do-next-thing.html' title='Do the next thing...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112908743601581859</id><published>2005-10-11T21:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T22:23:56.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Introducing...three</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/1600/Spike2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/320/Spike2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Spike.  Aka. Spud, Sparticus, and Sparkle.  But when he gets out of the yard, he doesn't really answer to anything.  He's everyone's favorite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112908743601581859?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112908743601581859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112908743601581859&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112908743601581859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112908743601581859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/10/introducingthree.html' title='Introducing...three'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112908712700573213</id><published>2005-10-11T21:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T22:18:47.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Introducing...too</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/1600/Maggie2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/320/Maggie2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Maggie.  Her full name is Miss Magnolia Festival of 1996.  I didn't name her...I promise.  She also answers to Magpie, Magdalene, Mags, and Magnolia (of course).  She'll be 10 years old this month.  She's getting old.  It's kinda sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112908712700573213?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112908712700573213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112908712700573213&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112908712700573213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112908712700573213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/10/introducingtoo.html' title='Introducing...too'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112908638582383329</id><published>2005-10-11T21:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T22:29:21.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Introducing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/1600/Jane1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/320/Jane1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the dogs:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Jane. I adopted her my second year of vet school. She is the best dog and my running buddy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112908638582383329?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112908638582383329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112908638582383329&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112908638582383329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112908638582383329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/10/introducing.html' title='Introducing...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112890797233216625</id><published>2005-10-09T19:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-09T20:32:52.343-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Come to Jesus....Chris Rice</title><content type='html'>"Weak and wounded sinner, lost and left to die, well raise your head for love is passing by.  Come to Jesus.  Come to Jesus.  Come to Jesus and live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now your burdens lifted, and carried far away.  Precious blood has washed away the stain.  So sing to Jesus.  Sing to Jesus.  Sing to Jesus and live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like a newborn baby, don't be afraid to crawl.  And remember when you walk, sometimes we fall.  So fall on Jesus.  Fall on Jesus.  Fall on Jesus and live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sometimes the way is lonely, and steep, and filled with pain.  So if your sky is dark and pours the rain.  Cry to Jesus.  Cry to Jesus.  Cry to Jesus and live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh and when the joy spills over, and music fills the night.  And when you can't contain the joy inside.  Dance for Jesus.  Dance for Jesus.  Dance for Jesus and live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And with your final heartbeat, kiss the world goodbye.  And go in peace, and laugh on glory's side.  Fly to Jesus.  Fly to Jesus.  Fly to Jesus and live."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112890797233216625?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112890797233216625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112890797233216625&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112890797233216625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112890797233216625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/10/come-to-jesuschris-rice.html' title='Come to Jesus....Chris Rice'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112855051539820479</id><published>2005-10-05T16:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T22:08:02.740-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my clothes are too big...</title><content type='html'>Here lately, Romans 12:2, as well as some others, have been hanging out in my head. Much of it all goes back to what I said earlier about having to form new habits.&lt;br /&gt;I read a book recently, at the recommendation of several godly women, through which I was surprised to learn how much I had "conformed to this world" in some areas of thinking. Even though I have filtered much of the movies and t.v. and music that I am surrounded by, and even though I have grown up in a Bible-believing church and been taught by a godly pastor and Sunday school teachers, I still had the hairs of pride stand up on the back of my neck as I read and felt slighted at some of what she (the author) had to say. And immediately I wondered at myself, because the author is scripturally sound, and I was having a hard time submitting to it. It just made me have to sit down and rethink alot of things that I never knew I had even formed an opinion about but that somehow I had. (Did that last sentence make sense? I don't know how to word it any better.) I agree with the author, and I highly recommend the book, but I was surprised at what I had learned about myself in the process.&lt;br /&gt;It was my turn to teach the Wednesday Night Live kids last week, and my topic was sanctification. One of the visuals was that of a child wearing clothes that are too big. The idea was that as Christians, we are to "grow up" in Christ, to be sanctified: set apart, made more like Christ. It's such a great visual. I wish I had taken pictures. As I was getting ready, I also realized that as Christians, we want, and sometimes expect, the clothes to fit immediately. I remember being in Mongolia and asking the head missionary there why the Mongolian Christians still lied. His response was that it was in their culture to do it. No one had ever told them that they had to tell the truth. They needed to be taught, and re-taught, what is true and right. Then, they had to make it a habit to choose what is right. It is not in our nature to continually choose what is right.&lt;br /&gt;As for expecting the clothes to fit immediately...I know I have been guilty of both expecting others' "clothes" to fit, as well as getting very discouraged with myself when my "clothes" didn't fit yet. My point is that as Christians, we are all still growing. I can't give up simply 'cause I'm not there yet. I'll never be there...in this life; on this earth. No one else will either. It is something I too easily forget. I can be pretty hard on other people, as well as myself.&lt;br /&gt;So how do I continue to grow? Another section that has been a mantra for the past couple of weeks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win. And everyone who competes in the games exercises &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;self-control&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; in all things. They then do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. Therefore I run in such a way, as not without aim; I box in such a way, as not beating the air; but &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I buffet my body and make it my slave&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, lest possibly, after I have preached to others, I myself should be diqualified."&lt;br /&gt;1 Cor 9:24-27&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, since I've been running, that verse has had dual meaning for me. Getting up early and running is neither natural nor easy for me. I have to buffet my body and make it get out of that comfortable, warm, topped-with-the-best-down-comforter-ever, bed and go wear myself out. Likewise, it is not natural for me to have the mindset of Christ. It is something that I must work at and pray for more of. And then I must listen and obey when I hear Him direct. How many times, as a child, did I hear my parents say, "I need you to obey me the first time I tell you"? How many times has God said the same? How many times would I have avoided failure in so many areas if I had obeyed the first time?&lt;br /&gt;It's all about forming new habits...willfully buffeting my body and mind into turning from that which separates me from my Lord, and running (consistently, mentally, emotionally) to Him. To run in such as way as to win the prize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The book I mentioned earlier: "Created to be His Helpmeet" by Debi Pearl. &lt;a href="http://www.nogreaterjoy.org"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 87px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 113px" height="134" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2210/1149/200/dp.jpg" width="107" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112855051539820479?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112855051539820479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112855051539820479&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112855051539820479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112855051539820479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/10/my-clothes-are-too-big.html' title='my clothes are too big...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112854090200014860</id><published>2005-10-05T13:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-05T14:35:02.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Romans 12:1-2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"I urge you therefore, brethren, by the mercies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"And do not be conformed to this world, but &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;be transformed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;by the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;renewing of your mind&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, that you may prove&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and perfect."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112854090200014860?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112854090200014860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112854090200014860&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112854090200014860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112854090200014860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/10/romans-121-2.html' title='Romans 12:1-2'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112778164360042808</id><published>2005-09-26T19:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T19:45:18.913-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Romans 8:35-39</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;or peril, or sword? Just as it is written, 'For Thy sake we are being&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;put to death all day long; We were considered as sheep &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to be slaughtered'. But in all these things we overwhelmingly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nor any other created thing, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;shall be able to separate us from the love of God,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112778164360042808?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112778164360042808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112778164360042808&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112778164360042808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112778164360042808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/09/romans-835-39.html' title='Romans 8:35-39'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112732796985346583</id><published>2005-09-21T12:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T13:41:58.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Constant in Prayer...</title><content type='html'>Well...I have started jogging about 3 times a week, and it was suggested to me to download some of John Piper's sermons to listen to as I go. Since I'm not a fan of talk radio, I didn't think I'd like trying to exercise to a sermon. This thing is...when you're out early in the morning, and you're not distracted by your surroundings, and you're focused, it's the perfect thing to listen to. I listened to "Be Constant in Prayer for the Joy of Hope" today. Umm...Wow. I highly recommend it. In fact, I've included a link to Piper's website for those who want to download and listen to that one and more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112732796985346583?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112732796985346583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112732796985346583&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112732796985346583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112732796985346583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/09/constant-in-prayer.html' title='Constant in Prayer...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112732742249620746</id><published>2005-09-21T12:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T13:30:22.510-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lyrics...Jeremy Camp</title><content type='html'>"My Desire"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You want to be real.  You want to be empty inside.  You want to be someone laying down your pride.  You want to be someone someday, then lay it all down before the King.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You want to be whole.  You want to have purpose inside.  You want to have virtue and purify your mind.  You want to be set free today then lay it all down before the King.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is my desire.  This is my return.  This is my desire, to be used by You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You want to be real.  You want to be emptied inside.  And I know my heart: is to feel You near, and I know my life: it's to do Your will.  It's to do Your will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All my life I have seen where you've taken me beyond all I have hoped and there's more left unseen.  There's not much I can do to repay all you've done so I give my hands to use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is my desire.  This is my return.  This is my desire, to be used by You."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112732742249620746?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112732742249620746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112732742249620746&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112732742249620746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112732742249620746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/09/lyricsjeremy-camp.html' title='Lyrics...Jeremy Camp'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112718006932212350</id><published>2005-09-19T19:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T20:34:29.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another World...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"If I find in myself a desire which no experience&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;is that I was made for another world."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;C. S. Lewis&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"For here we do not have a lasting city,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but we are seeking the city which is to come."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Heb 13:14&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112718006932212350?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112718006932212350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112718006932212350&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112718006932212350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112718006932212350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/09/another-world.html' title='Another World...'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112701028591661004</id><published>2005-09-17T20:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-17T21:24:45.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Spoon Faith</title><content type='html'>Well...quite a bit has happened over the last couple of weeks.  So much, in fact, that I had to share. &lt;br /&gt;    Our church decided soon after Katrina hit the coast that we'd help feed people each night.  Actually, we decided that we'd feed people for Wednesday and Thursday nights, and that we'd "think" about feeding them through the wkd depending on the need.  What part did I play?  I traveled to all the hotels in the area and passed out fliers with the necessary information.  To make a long story short, I was SO overwhelmed by the numbers of people, that I elected (foolishly) not to send fliers to a hotel in Marion.  My thought: "Well...I've already had to ask Bro. Gary to get more lasagna, so we'll see what the turn-out is tonight, and I can always take the fliers by tomorrow if we don't overflow tonight." &lt;br /&gt;    That night, we fed somewhere between 150 and 200 people.  At the end of the evening, even after sending out plates of food and dessert, the kitchen staff was able to sit down and finish off the last tray of lasagna.  It is a humbling experience to eat food that you know is/was blessed.  With each bite, I was reminded of my own faithlessness earlier that day.  Who was I to say that God couldn't feed as many people as showed up?  When did it become my job to determine what God could and couldn't do?  I had completely forgotten the loaves of bread and fish.&lt;br /&gt;    The next night, before we started serving people, someone called in and asked for 14 plates of food.  (They had picked up 8 the night before.)  As I stood in that kitchen, I was amazed at the discussion that took place in lieu of the plate preparation.  "Would we have enough food?"  "There were so many last night, wouldn't there be as many, if not more, tonight?"  "14....that's alot of food."  Well....I couldn't believe my ears.  I didn't want to re-live the shame of the night before.  So...again to make a long story short, we prepared the plates.  In the process, it was pointed out that we only had 2 very large tubs of veggies, so couldn't we just put less than a serving-spoon full on each plate?  After all, "there may not be enough."  That night...we fed about 50 people.  We had veggies, chicken and dumplins', and fried chicken coming out of our ears.&lt;br /&gt;    The lesson from all of this:  I want to have, and live, big spoon faith.  It's the kind of faith that says "I can serve large, heaping spoonfuls, because God will provide."  That kind of faith is nothing new.  It is "...the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." (Heb 11:1)  It is an action.  It is proceeding based on the belief that God is big enough and is in charge enough to take care of whatever lies ahead.  If we are in His will, then we are under His protection.  Does that mean nothing but cushy times lay ahead?  Certainly not.  But does it mean that when tough times occur, that He has ceased to be in control or to care?  Absolutely not. &lt;br /&gt;    AND....since that time, I have been awed by even more.  God answered the smallest of my prayers in such an obvious way, and I was completely blown away.  Both by the fact that He chose to answer "yes" when He could have said "no," and by the fact that I was so surprised that He did choose "yes"to such a small, selfish request.  I mean, I think we get so accustomed to rattling off requests that I think we often forget to actually talk to God from our heart.  We don't ask for things, because we decide that they aren't worth God's time to listen to or grant.  "Surely that is something stupid that I shouldn't even bother God with."  Again...faithlessness.  God desires a PERSONAL relationship with us.  How freeing it is to come to God with EVERYTHING.  Everything!!  And, I was reminded, yet again, that God is in control of even the tiniest of events in our lives.  And if He is in control of the small things, then how much more does He orchestrate the big things. &lt;br /&gt;    I am, unfortunately, a worrier.  I get so caught up in trying to see 10 years from now, that I have a hard time taking the next step.  I am learning, thankfully, to obediently take that next step regardless of what I think or the fear that I feel.  I have experienced a new confidence that I don't remember having for a very long time.  Why do I doubt?  What do I fear?  Because I am such an idiot. &lt;br /&gt;    Anyway...I hope that I will remember and continue to live these lessons that I'm learning.  I seem to have to relearn them over and over again.  You'd think that I would have gotten some of them by now.  It's all about training and conditioning myself to obey.  For example, my body does not like to get up early and run.  But my body is not in authority over me.  The natural is exactly that: natural...comfortable...habitual.  I have to form new habits.  Am I making any kind of sense?  I know I'm not saying anything that hasn't been said before.  I am just really encouraged and excited to see God at work and to see what He's going to do.  'Cause the possiblities are unlimited.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112701028591661004?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112701028591661004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112701028591661004&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112701028591661004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112701028591661004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/09/big-spoon-faith.html' title='Big Spoon Faith'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112657805473311409</id><published>2005-09-12T20:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T21:20:54.740-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Still My Soul...Katharina von Schlegel</title><content type='html'>"Be still my soul, the Lord is on thy side!  Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain; leave to thy God to order and provide, in every change, He faithful will remain.  Be still my soul, thy best, thy heavenly Friend through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be still my soul, thy God doth undertake to guide the future as He has the past; thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake, all now mysterious shall be bright at last.  Be still my soul, the waves and winds still know His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be still my soul, the hour is hastening on when we shall be forever with the Lord, when disappointment, grief, and fear are gone.  Sorrows forgot; love's purest joys restored.  Be still my soul, when change and tears are past, all safe and blessed, we shall meet at last."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112657805473311409?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112657805473311409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112657805473311409&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112657805473311409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112657805473311409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/09/be-still-my-soulkatharina-von-schlegel.html' title='Be Still My Soul...Katharina von Schlegel'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112631268602086720</id><published>2005-09-09T19:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T23:04:48.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hymn 410...It Is Well</title><content type='html'>"When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll, whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, 'It is well; it is well with my soul.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Though Satan should buffet when trials should come, let this blessed assurance control, that Christ has regarded my helpless estate and has shed His own blood for my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought, my sin, not in part, but the whole, is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more. Praise the Lord; Praise the Lord, oh my soul!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight...the clouds be rolled back as a scroll...the trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, even so, it is well with my soul!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is well (it is well) with my soul (with my soul). It is well; it is well with my soul."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112631268602086720?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112631268602086720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112631268602086720&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112631268602086720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112631268602086720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/09/hymn-410it-is-well.html' title='Hymn 410...It Is Well'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112432891130298060</id><published>2005-08-17T20:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T20:39:11.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Someday...Nicole Nordeman</title><content type='html'>"I believe in the rest of the story. I believe there's still ink in the pen. I have wasted my very last day trying to change what happened way back when. I believe it's the human condition. We all need to have answers to why. More than ever, I'm ready to say that I will still sleep peacefully with answers out of reach from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Until someday all that's crazy, all that's unexplained, will fall into place.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;And someday all that's hazy through a clouded glass will be clear at last.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;And sometimes we're just waiting for someday&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"We are born with a lingering hunger. We are born to be unsatisfied. We are strangers who can't help but wander and dream about the other side of...Every puzzle's missing piece, every unsolved mystery. More than half of every whole rests in the Hands that hold you for someday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Someday all that's crazy, all that's unexplained, will be beautiful, beautiful.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;And someday all that's hazy through a clouded glass will be clear at last.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Cause sometimes we're just waiting for someday&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112432891130298060?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112432891130298060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112432891130298060&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112432891130298060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112432891130298060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/08/somedaynicole-nordeman.html' title='Someday...Nicole Nordeman'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-112345929672903636</id><published>2005-08-07T19:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T20:40:02.860-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lyrics...Nicole Nordeman</title><content type='html'>We Build by Nicole Nordeman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's bigger than we thought; it's taller than it ought to be, this pile of rubble and ruins. The neighbors must talk. It's the worst yard on the block. Just branches and boards where walls stood. Did it seem to you like the storm just knew we weren't quite finished with the roof when it started?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;So we build...we build. We clear away what was and make room for what will be. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;If you hold the nails, I'll take the hammer. I'll hold it still, if you'll climb the ladder.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;If you will, I will build&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"On any given day we could simply walk away and let someone else hold the pieces. The lie that we tell says it's better somewhere else. As if love flies south when it freezes. What I'm trying to say, in some clumsy way, is that it's you and only you, for always.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;That's why we build...we build. We clear away what was and make room for what will be. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;If you hold the nails, I'll take the hammer. I'll hold it still, if you'll climb the ladder.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;If you will, then I will build&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"What I'm trying to say, in some clumsy way is that it's you and only you, not just for now, not just today. But it's you and only you for always. If you hold the nails, I'll take the hammer. I'll hold it still, if you'll climb the ladder. If you will, then I will build."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-112345929672903636?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/112345929672903636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=112345929672903636&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112345929672903636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/112345929672903636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/08/lyricsnicole-nordeman.html' title='Lyrics...Nicole Nordeman'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-111739796911351191</id><published>2005-05-29T17:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-29T15:19:29.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lyrics...Natalie Grant</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is a song that has just recently been recorded and getting some air-time by Natalie Grant.  The song is titled "Held," and I've been listening to it nonstop since I got the track a few days ago.  It talks about suffering and how sometimes we think that as Christians we should be exempt from pain.  But we're not.  The promise was not that life would be smooth sailing, but that when everything dear to us falls apart, betrays us, crashes and burns, leaving us alone and trembling in the pile of ashes, that He would still be there.  In my small life, I have had some suffering.  But I cannot begin to compare it with some of the things either my friends or people I've known have experienced.  But I can promise one thing: I have been held by the everlasting arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Two months is too little.  They let him go.  They had no sudden healing.  To think that Providence would take a child from his mother while she prays is appalling.  Who told us we'd be rescued?  What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?  We're asking why this happens to us to have died to live?  It's unfair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is what it means to be held.  How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life and you survive.  This is what it is to be loved, and to know that the promise was when everything fell we'd be held.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"This hand is bitterness.  We want to taste it and let the hatred numb our sorrow.  The wise hand opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is what it means to be held.  How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life and you survive.  This is what it is to be loved, and to know that the promise was when everything fell we'd be held.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"If hope is born of suffering, if this is only the beginning, can we not wait for one hour watching for our Saviour?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is what it means to be held.  How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life and you survive.  This is what it is to be loved, and to know that the promise was when everything fell we'd be held...This is what it means to be held."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-111739796911351191?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/111739796911351191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=111739796911351191&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/111739796911351191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/111739796911351191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/05/lyricsnatalie-grant.html' title='Lyrics...Natalie Grant'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-111739695254135210</id><published>2005-05-29T17:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-29T15:02:32.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lyrics....Nicole Nordeman</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The following is the lyrics to Nicole Nordeman's song "My Offering" on the Woven and Spun cd.  (A cd, by the way, that I would wholly recommend to anyone and everyone.  The entire cd is awesome.)  If I could play the piano very well, I'd learn this song.  I think it's just beautiful.  The ultimate message is one I'd want said of my life:  no matter what God has made me, I do and will have a song of praise to sing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you made me, like the grass that is green, growing tall and covering the hills above me, maybe I would pray for sunshine and a little rain to fall now and then to make me lovely.  I would be a place where sheep could graze or barefoot feet could play.  I would grow and grow, and hope You'd bend down low, and I would sing my offering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Open up the heavens; open up the sky.  'Cause all of Your creation wants to testify.  I have a song.  So let the earth sing along.  'Cause I just want to praise You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"If you made me like a cloud in the sky and found the perfect place way up high where I could hover.  Maybe I would pray for skies that were blue or a sunset or two to show Your colors.  Or maybe I might be a mountain tall and steep.  But I would try and stand as tall as I can, and I would sing my offering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Open up the heavens; open up the sky.  'Cause all of Your creation wants to testify.  I have a song.  So let the earth sing along.  'Cause I just want to praise You.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The sun every morning cannot wait to shine.  And the stars in the evening are all standing by to light the sky.  Give the rocks and the stones voices of their own if we forget to sing praises to our King.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Open up the heavens; open up the sky.  'Cause all of Your creation wants to testify.  We just want to praise You; we just want to praise You."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-111739695254135210?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/111739695254135210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=111739695254135210&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/111739695254135210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/111739695254135210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/05/lyricsnicole-nordeman.html' title='Lyrics....Nicole Nordeman'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-111716494386352187</id><published>2005-05-27T00:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-26T22:44:22.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jim Elliot</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;"Let not our longing slay the appetite of our living."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;"...Lamentations 3:2: 'He hath led me, and brought me into darkness, but not into light.' Because I cannot see, nor even assuredly feel, His satisfaction with me, I cannot doubt the leading simply because of the dark. The leading is nonetheless real; the pathway has simply been into a place I didn't expect or ask for."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-111716494386352187?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/111716494386352187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=111716494386352187&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/111716494386352187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/111716494386352187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/05/jim-elliot.html' title='Jim Elliot'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13181535.post-111716431494263839</id><published>2005-05-27T00:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-05-26T22:26:10.683-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Quotes...Amy Carmichael</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"I wish Thy way,&lt;br /&gt;But when in me myself would rise,&lt;br /&gt;And long for something otherwise,&lt;br /&gt;Then, Holy One, take sword and spear,&lt;br /&gt;And slay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;"Oh Thou who art my quietness, my deep repose,&lt;br /&gt;My rest from strife of tongues, my holy hill,&lt;br /&gt;Fair is Thy pavilion, where I hold me still.&lt;br /&gt;Back let them fall from me, my clamorous foes,&lt;br /&gt;Confusions multiplied;&lt;br /&gt;From crowding things of sense I flee, and in Thee hide,&lt;br /&gt;Until this tyranny be overpast,&lt;br /&gt;Thy hand will hold me fast;&lt;br /&gt;What though the tumult of the storm increase,&lt;br /&gt;Grant to Thy servant strength, O Lord,&lt;br /&gt;And bless with peace."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Hold me in quiet through the age-long minute,&lt;br /&gt;When Thou art silent, and the wind is shrill.&lt;br /&gt;Can a boat sink when Thou, dear Lord, art in it?&lt;br /&gt;Can the heart faint that waiteth on Thy will?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;"From prayer that asks that I may be,&lt;br /&gt;Sheltered from winds that beat on Thee,&lt;br /&gt;From fearing when I shoud aspire,&lt;br /&gt;From faltering when I should climb higher,&lt;br /&gt;From silken self, O Captain, free&lt;br /&gt;Thy soldier who would follow Thee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"From subtle love of softening things,&lt;br /&gt;From easy choices, weakenings,&lt;br /&gt;(Not thus are spirits fortified,&lt;br /&gt;Not this way went the crucified,)&lt;br /&gt;From all that dims Thy Calvary,&lt;br /&gt;O Lamb of God, deliver me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Give me the love that leads the way,&lt;br /&gt;The faith that nothing can dismay,&lt;br /&gt;The hope no disappointments tire,&lt;br /&gt;The passion that will burn like fire,&lt;br /&gt;Let me not sink to be a clod;&lt;br /&gt;Make me Thy fuel, Flame of God."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Lord, grant to me a quiet mind,&lt;br /&gt;That trusting Thee--for Thou art kind--&lt;br /&gt;I may go on without a fear,&lt;br /&gt;For Thou, my Lord, art always near."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;"He said, 'I will forget the dying faces;&lt;br /&gt;The empty places--&lt;br /&gt;They shall be filled again.&lt;br /&gt;O voices moaning deep within me, cease.'&lt;br /&gt;But vain the word; vain, vain:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Not in forgetting lieth peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He said, 'I will crowd action upon action;&lt;br /&gt;The strife of faction&lt;br /&gt;Shall stir me and sustain.&lt;br /&gt;O tears that drown the fire of manhood, cease.'&lt;br /&gt;But vain the word; vain, vain:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Not in endeavor lieth peace&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He said, 'I will withdraw me and be quiet;&lt;br /&gt;Why meddle in life's riot?&lt;br /&gt;Shut be my door to pain.&lt;br /&gt;Desire, thou dost befool me; thou shalt cease.'&lt;br /&gt;But vain the word; vain, vain:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Not in aloofness lieth peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He said, 'I will submit; I am defeated.&lt;br /&gt;God hath depleted&lt;br /&gt;My life of its rich gain.&lt;br /&gt;O futile murmurings, why will ye not cease?'&lt;br /&gt;But vain the word; vain, vain:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Not in submission lieth peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He said, 'I will accept the breaking sorrow&lt;br /&gt;Which God tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Will to His son explain."&lt;br /&gt;Then did the turmoil deep within him cease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Not vain the word, not vain;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;For in acceptance lieth peace.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"See in this which seems to stir up&lt;br /&gt;all you most wish were not stirred up--&lt;br /&gt;see in it a chance to die to self in every form.&lt;br /&gt;Accept it as just that--a chance to die."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13181535-111716431494263839?l=katedvm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/feeds/111716431494263839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13181535&amp;postID=111716431494263839&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/111716431494263839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13181535/posts/default/111716431494263839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katedvm.blogspot.com/2005/05/good-quotesamy-carmichael.html' title='Good Quotes...Amy Carmichael'/><author><name>kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11188043267502109898</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ScMH4IFxsMo/TDpR_kTQe1I/AAAAAAAAABk/lZqYBFzJhY4/S220/donny2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
