tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8697291631016777352024-03-16T11:50:58.205-07:00For Your Emotional HealthEvery day we are faced with challenges. How we react with our thoughts, feelings and actions determines our emotional health. Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-38872734124516728952023-07-20T11:04:00.000-07:002023-07-20T11:04:03.461-07:00Ten Ways to Help Others When Tragedy Strikes<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPK7klXDIv4XIfUEstZtnvtcRUuiKGIot8cGDgaD4bA0FTS-iWLo4T7FsF3dtWBaLoIQvsJWVVOapk2aXGJyBR-x-pmucrBazWj-8170DXTX0-c_Uie1poTu4bJSIdU928tPbB_AY9k4JI9BZS313e8YHU8obMNjZ84aAy7XEIe5Lu86O5KjoJaZwHhY8/s1648/7-20-23%20Each%20Other.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1092" data-original-width="1648" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPK7klXDIv4XIfUEstZtnvtcRUuiKGIot8cGDgaD4bA0FTS-iWLo4T7FsF3dtWBaLoIQvsJWVVOapk2aXGJyBR-x-pmucrBazWj-8170DXTX0-c_Uie1poTu4bJSIdU928tPbB_AY9k4JI9BZS313e8YHU8obMNjZ84aAy7XEIe5Lu86O5KjoJaZwHhY8/s320/7-20-23%20Each%20Other.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">News flash:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Shooter enters shopping mall and opens fire. Thirty-seven dead,
many others wounded.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Entire family killed in head-on collision. Accident caused by
intoxicated driver. He survives.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Woman found dead in apartment. Investigation reveals cause as
suicide.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Hurricane wipes out entire village. Hundreds left homeless.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">With mass shootings reported in the media </span><span style="font-size: 14px;">regularly</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">, the chances that someone we love will be torn by tragedy increases daily. Add
to it the deaths by suicide, drunk driving, airplane crashes, and natural
disasters, and the odds increase dramatically.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What will we do when we receive that phone call, text, or knock on
the door telling us that someone we love is no longer with us? How will we
respond when one of our own is hurting? In the midst of our shock, disbelief
and horror, we know we need to act, but how? The acronym COMPASSION gives us 10
ways we can be of assistance:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">C – Come now!</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When tragedy strikes someone we love, our immediate response is
crucial. Our presence is a calming influence. We provide a sense of stability
while the rest of the world is crashing down around them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">O – Open your mouth</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Simplicity is the key to our words, since they will make our break
our relationship with those that are hurting. There are three basic messages we
want to give:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<ol start="1" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">We love <o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">you.</span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">We care about
what is happening to <o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">you.</span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">We will help you through this difficulty</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">.</span></span></li>
</ol>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">M – Monitor daily activities</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">During a tragedy, daily routines are interrupted. The focus on
personal health and well-being is lost in lieu of the logistics surrounding the
present circumstances. Our job is to make sure that our loved ones have
nutritious meals, plenty of rest, and remember necessary medical protocol. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">P – Pray for all involved in the tragedy</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Praying for our loved ones helps them feel peace in the midst of
the storm. Our prayers in their presence bear testimony that we know God will
be there for them. It also gives them the reminder that they can pray on their
own for needed comfort, peace, and guidance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A – Ask the hard questions</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sometimes it is necessary to ask difficult questions. Tragedy
leaves families in a state of shock. We may think of something that needs to be
done that may have been overlooked. Asking about the issue brings it to their
attention, and gives us the opportunity to help resolve the issue with them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">S – Smile</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tragedy takes away our reasons to smile. Making the effort to put
both corners of the mouth upward at the right moment lightens the atmosphere
and gives us permission to find humor in a difficult situation. Laughter
releases valuable feel good hormones in our brains, a sorely needed momentary
benefit.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">S – Share positive memories</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When the family is ready to talk about their loved one’s past, we
can help them bring back positive memories by sharing photos and reminiscing.
Allowing ourselves this respite from the past gives us a better perspective in
the present. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I – Ignore little offences</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Be careful not to take offence if things are said or done that
grate on the nerves. When tragedy is raw, people sometimes do not think before
they speak. Decisions are made that just don’t make sense. Toes get stepped
on and feelings are hurt. Don’t dwell on it. Let it go.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">O – Offer options to explore</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Adjustments must be made in order for life to go after a tragedy.
Allow people to explore and offer possibilities to consider. At first, when
anger and frustration are high, options may seem extreme. This is normal. As
things settle down, more reasonable thinking returns.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">N – Never give up</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The grieving process takes time. Everyone goes about it in their
own way. Our grief may take a different course than that of those we love. That
is okay. Continuing to help them work through it helps us to work through our
own.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Compassion is simply emotional first aid. When we keep in mind
that love is constant, we help those we care about in ways that bring relief to
their suffering and peace to our own souls. After all, that is what the life of
our Savior was all about!<o:p></o:p></span></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-54869396946631994522023-06-09T08:36:00.006-07:002023-06-09T08:36:54.712-07:00Weeds<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGdG1EVobFUOMiFlIcI9iJcQJyVgtrdd9CVfH8aLcFMZXOqHjR5HXKmR6bl-8SxDsHdqJ7JbPDX--k625yO64ZcU169ZMEbYwECS6TWxEF4EscFXG5Le590HeGbT2c8HWKVUFSEvcEFSUJverKhJKEo33gC6bcd8kfeULfHBeP5ThzpUT1kqlJDdCy/s1276/6-9-23%20Love%20-%20Life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1256" data-original-width="1276" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGdG1EVobFUOMiFlIcI9iJcQJyVgtrdd9CVfH8aLcFMZXOqHjR5HXKmR6bl-8SxDsHdqJ7JbPDX--k625yO64ZcU169ZMEbYwECS6TWxEF4EscFXG5Le590HeGbT2c8HWKVUFSEvcEFSUJverKhJKEo33gC6bcd8kfeULfHBeP5ThzpUT1kqlJDdCy/s320/6-9-23%20Love%20-%20Life.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Thorns, thistles, crab grass, and oh, yes, creeping Jenny,
or morning glory. Let’s see, what other names can I find for it, that weed that
winds around the other plants and chokes them to death before it can even be
seen!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There it is, sticking its tendrils up above the caragana.
They call it the “hedge bindweed.” That’s just what it does! It binds the plants
so they can’t grow right. If I follow it down to the roots, maybe I can get rid
of it. Oh, no! There is another one, and another! Will I ever get rid of this
insidious predator?!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What, it has flowers? You mean something so unsightly and
annoying has a redeeming quality? How can it be? The article I read says that I
must be vigilant if I want to get rid of this plague. Ok. I will check the
hedge each time I water the garden. Let’s see, that will be every other day,
all summer long!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If I add that to everything else I am doing, the washing,
the cleaning, the visiting, the taking care of the sick and infirm, the
supporting of my spouse and children in their endeavors, and last, but
certainly not least, taking care of my own needs. The list keeps getting longer
and longer!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Oh, Lord, help me! I can’t do this alone! It is too hard! It
takes too long! There is too much to do! I am overwhelmed at the very thought
of it! I will never be able to have the strength to do all that needs to be
done!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Oh, my precious child, you were never meant to do it alone.
I am here. I will always be with you! My angels will be round about you to bear
you up. They will go before you to prepare the way. They will be by your side watching
over you and aiding your every step. They will come after you to soften the
blows of your learning processes. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Lean on me. Learn of me. Love me! For I love you! I always have
and I always will! You are never alone!<o:p></o:p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-1062250673595603622023-05-08T09:49:00.000-07:002023-05-08T09:49:33.176-07:00Money is not for Spending<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXsFwaRqY3EEF7TKOfFnC-K_Ag6kqhxxgaXzffZuZbjj8hVVhxk39V1U3hVxvhVAa2KFk_1-4FzQvdQwQcgiHy3ZtZrVn8i2RdtAWkBiOaDaVcjmmrYX2HlEm4iGJ7KgXpQ0xdLHX8B9UWkYUBHRCkpEKXG3U28ztFpztblKfndCcKwPNhbCD0zxB3/s1650/Money.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="1650" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXsFwaRqY3EEF7TKOfFnC-K_Ag6kqhxxgaXzffZuZbjj8hVVhxk39V1U3hVxvhVAa2KFk_1-4FzQvdQwQcgiHy3ZtZrVn8i2RdtAWkBiOaDaVcjmmrYX2HlEm4iGJ7KgXpQ0xdLHX8B9UWkYUBHRCkpEKXG3U28ztFpztblKfndCcKwPNhbCD0zxB3/s320/Money.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">“Money is not for spending” the headline screamed. Intrigued
by the seeming misnomer, I dove into the article. Financial management skills
had never been one of my strengths, and I was eager to learn. By the time I
reached the end of the article, I had a firm understanding of this principle. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Where does money come
from?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Money is a natural resource, just water and land. It is
already a part of the earth. We obtain money by tapping into the economic cycle
that already exists. It has three key components:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Obtaining raw materials and turning them into
products<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->The sale and distribution of products to
consumers<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Providing consumer services <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">What do we do with
our money?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Once we obtain money, our financial management skills
provide us with a blue-print for its use.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is done through the following step-by-step process: <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Put the money in a safe place <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We put our money in a financial institution that provides
banking services, including (but not limited to) checking, savings, money
market, debit cards, credit cards, and bill paying services, along with
protection of our assets.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Give a percentage to charity<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Giving back to society through charitable donations creates
an attitude of gratitude. When we give, we are more likely to care about those
who are in less desirable circumstances. Setting aside a certain amount each
month for giving puts us in a position to be an asset rather than a liability.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Set aside a suitable amount for future needs<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Creating a nest egg of funds allows us to make major
purchases without incurring debt. We use these funds for such things as
appliances, home repairs, school tuition, and vehicles. The more we set aside,
the sooner we are ready for the unexpected. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Take care of essential expenses<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Pay the “bills” first. Expenses for such things as a place
to live, electricity, running water, and transportation usually come in the
form of monthly statements. Paying these expenses on-time increases our credit
rating and gives us financial security. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Budget wants carefully<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The remainder of our money is allocated for food, clothing,
communication, entertainment, and other personal and family desires. Keeping
these expenses within reasonable limits allows us to have discretionary funds
for the things that we really want.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">How do we control
spending?<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our financial management skills are tested regularly when we
enter the market place. Advertisers know that spending money is an emotional
experience, and they do everything they can to get us to make the decision to
open our wallets.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If we decide ahead of time what we will purchase, how much
we will spend, and when we will walk away, we can get out of the store and back
home with money still in our pockets. Remember, there is always a sale, and if
we don’t find what we are looking for today, chances are, we will find it later.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The important lesson that I learned from the article was
that money is not for spending! Money is a resource at our disposal. Our
efforts to conserve it will bring great dividends. When properly managed, money
is an asset that will take us into a productive and promising future!<o:p></o:p></p><br /><p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-23648352080216971682023-03-23T09:39:00.002-07:002023-03-23T09:39:43.230-07:00Pain<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6j8IaWJngc2kGL_1MJrXsEfw62jzzEFXJgdJb6SlBCqG4CQrOtlgqSRZ-1lMEFztzFmDYgYYTFMMF9Gq60EYVb09gnKLQrbz2Sz5yNezqilZjZpPhl6ZiRNqwto6j5QAFJu616HZvVWCERkOgonQzKPBDVO5-S2bS3QKlnqvvNI_Fayo46o1wFdt/s872/3-23-23%20Pain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="571" data-original-width="872" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6j8IaWJngc2kGL_1MJrXsEfw62jzzEFXJgdJb6SlBCqG4CQrOtlgqSRZ-1lMEFztzFmDYgYYTFMMF9Gq60EYVb09gnKLQrbz2Sz5yNezqilZjZpPhl6ZiRNqwto6j5QAFJu616HZvVWCERkOgonQzKPBDVO5-S2bS3QKlnqvvNI_Fayo46o1wFdt/s320/3-23-23%20Pain.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Like fingers of fire shooting
through my veins, the pain comes around again and again. How can I make it
through this day when the pain I feel never goes away? How can I rest when the
night comes around when my heart cries out and my agony abounds?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Like a hammer pounding upon my
bones, the throbbing pain makes me writhe and groan. I shift my position or
change my chair hoping the pain just won’t be there, but no matter what I seem
to do, it follows me the whole day through!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Like a vice grip squeezing around my
head, the pain and the pressure fill me with dread. I wish that the world would
just go away, then I wouldn’t have to endure today. Dear Lord, please help me,
I cannot go on! Take this pain away! Oh, Thy will be done!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then to my mind’s eye there comes
anew Christ carrying His cross with Calvary in view. They laid him down on the
beams that day to end his mortal tabernacle of clay. Oh, how can I witness this
awful scene? Please spare me, Lord, wipe the slate clean!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They spread out his hands and they
pierced them there. The fingers of fire, Him did not spare. They nailed his
feet to the cross and again, the throbbing pain through his bones did send. The
crown of thorns slammed upon his brow, a vice grip the pain must have been, and
how!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My heart cries out and the teardrops
fall. He died for me! For one and for all! He knows how I feel, the tears that
I’ve cried, the long lonely nights and the things that I’ve tried! And still He
says, “Come, follow me, I will take you there, then set you free.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Forgive me, Lord, for my complaints
this day. You have suffered much more than I can ever say! I thank Thee for
giving Thy life for me. I can go on now. Yes, I have strength, I see. The pain
that I feel for a moment is gone, because of the war you have fought and won!<o:p></o:p></span></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-82462366334577229652023-02-14T09:33:00.000-08:002023-02-14T09:33:05.563-08:00Five Steps for Mending a Broken Relationship<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmQsWuMxnK5LArCC5WaUCp5rttJusDwnEW7-41efxJzOGJG0nJGr2wq1_KqEXNfL0F6aOHCkgtobHTfBPBls4b-3fZbBAq-tnZexqDEHlynp61Daj5E_UgdarQWHyVNC8Ctz4w8NUsm_HdVCfYo1N_4zw7CaELXOYG591UsHIkv-CeGeNyy6i5_sSP/s1276/Compassion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1276" data-original-width="1272" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmQsWuMxnK5LArCC5WaUCp5rttJusDwnEW7-41efxJzOGJG0nJGr2wq1_KqEXNfL0F6aOHCkgtobHTfBPBls4b-3fZbBAq-tnZexqDEHlynp61Daj5E_UgdarQWHyVNC8Ctz4w8NUsm_HdVCfYo1N_4zw7CaELXOYG591UsHIkv-CeGeNyy6i5_sSP/s320/Compassion.jpg" width="319" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
<p class="MsoNormal">Communication is the stuff of which relationships are made.
We send messages back and forth for the relaying of information, sharing of
feelings, and working through difficulties. These messages are sent and
received through words, looks, facial expressions, body language, and the tone
of our voice.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">When communication ceases, we consider our relationship to
be “broken.” Perhaps we said or did something that offended the other party, or
an event occurred that lead them to believe that our relationship was no longer
desirable. The resulting “silent treatment” breeds misunderstanding and
distrust. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">The problem only escalates when we make assumptions about
what the other party is thinking and feeling based on their body language and
the current circumstances. In order to bridge the communication gap that has
occurred and mend our broken relationship, we need patience and understanding.
The following five steps give us a pattern to follow: <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Step One: Express Concern<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">We express concern by approaching the other person in a
spirit of reconciliation. We engage in eye contact, and get in close proximity,
then let them know that we notice that something is amiss in the relationship,
but we aren’t sure what. We value them as a person, and miss the interaction
previously enjoyed. We are willing to do what is necessary to re-establish
communication. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Step Two: Listen Without Judgment<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">When we let others know that we care for them, we are
opening the door for them to share their deepest feelings with us. Since we
don’t know what has caused the rift, we must prepare ourselves for the worst.
The silence was like a dam holding back some strong negative feelings. Our
ability to listen without passing judgement enables them to tell their story. We
show them that we care by listening to what they have to say without stepping
in to fix the problem. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Step Three: Reflect Back to Indicate Understanding.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Like a mirror, we reflect back the feelings or summarize the
experience that they have just shared with us. As we do so, we validate them as
a person, and let them know that it is okay for them to feel this way. They
realize that we understand what they are saying and feeling and accept them as
an individual. Our validation gives them additional feelings of self-worth. We
let them know that they are important to us and that what is happening in their
lives is worth taking the time to know and understand. We deepen our
relationship by being trustworthy.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Step Four: Support Them While They Work Through the Problem<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Once we have listened to their story, it is our job to
provide support while they come up with a plan of action. We do this be
continuing to reflect back what they are saying. Allowing them to process
through the difficulty and come up with a proposed plan of action giving them a
positive resolution to the experience. The worst thing we can do at this point
is to tell them what they should do. That would close the communication door
very quickly and put us at odds in our relationship again. They need to figure
things out on their own and come up with a solution. Our job is to simply
provide strength and support.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Step Five: Leave the Door Open for Future Contact<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Once they have come up with a plan of action, we can help
them to be accountable for it by encouraging them to call and let us know what
happens or saying that we will see them in a particular day or time. We may
even want to provide some sort of incentive for them to complete the plan by
offering to take them out to dinner or doing something desirable together when
they have finished the project.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Each time we open the door of communication that someone
else has closed, we are being proactive in strengthening our relationship and
giving others a reason to call us a friend. The time we take to provide this type
of emotional first aid will be a boon to us when we are need of someone to talk
with about the issues we are having in our lives!<o:p></o:p></p><p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-76483247859693475692023-01-20T08:15:00.003-08:002023-01-20T08:17:48.132-08:00Ten Ways to Help Anxious Children<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOv-7EXRzbceuVjLSsgdxgW1Qw-eYTkx6FIGELoUjmdZR0pckFvQmJrOlP_TvCvjOrUac5EQX1phqNz94TMP9efmNjcQ2zMKBnZJJSwhhev1fE0IiZdFzXWWO4r9zmOaJ0eQNt8hCRgW_FzYr5PsHmiZMyqOw65clTtCdCzrVXlxygZ76TcT_Fq8Cg/s1648/1-20-23%20Help%20-%20Children.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1088" data-original-width="1648" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOv-7EXRzbceuVjLSsgdxgW1Qw-eYTkx6FIGELoUjmdZR0pckFvQmJrOlP_TvCvjOrUac5EQX1phqNz94TMP9efmNjcQ2zMKBnZJJSwhhev1fE0IiZdFzXWWO4r9zmOaJ0eQNt8hCRgW_FzYr5PsHmiZMyqOw65clTtCdCzrVXlxygZ76TcT_Fq8Cg/s320/1-20-23%20Help%20-%20Children.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">Children often do not know why they are anxious; they just know
that they are experiencing discomfort. We may notice what is happening before
they are able to express their feelings verbally. The following actions give us
a clue:</span></p>
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What if
questions<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Repetitive
preparations<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Needing objects
for security, either to hold or hide behind<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Stuttering or
mumbling<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dropping things,
tripping, or falling<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Looking down to
avoid eye contact, or looking elsewhere, as if wary of danger<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Shoulders
slumped forward<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ul>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anxious feelings are based on doubt and fear. When we are filled
with fear, our body systems try to protect our delicate organs. Our extremities
become cold. We are drained of energy, and we move differently than when we are
strong and confident.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As adults, we have a profound effect on the children in our world.
When they are anxious, there are many things we can do to help calm their minds
and hearts. The following are ten of them:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<ol start="1" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Get down on the
child's level. </span></b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Our proximity alone provides the child with a sense of
importance. When we are close to them and look them in the eye, we let
them know that whatever is troubling them is important to us.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Talk softly and
slowly. </span></b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
tone of our voice, its cadence and rhythm will either escalate the child’s
anxiety or provide a calming influence. Talking softly allows us to be on
more intimate terms with the child. Speaking slowly soothes jittery nerves
and slows the heart rate.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Listen
actively. </span></b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Once
we are close and personal with the child, they will feel comfortable
sharing their innermost feelings. We nod and comment to let the child know
we are hearing what is being said. Our undivided attention encourages open
dialogue and allows the ready sharing of thoughts and feelings.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Reflect what is
being said. </span></b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Reflecting back to the child what we hear they are
saying or feeling gives them words to identify fears and verbalize
discomfort. We add understanding to the situation and help the child work
through it more effectively.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Give physical
affection, if and when appropriate. </span></b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Our soft touch
will provide feelings of comfort and help them to relax. Note that this is
only appropriate if we have a relationship of trust with the child and are
a close relative or friend.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Provide
reassurance. </span></b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Words that provide reassurance include but are not
limited to the following phrases: “Things will be all right,” “I am sure
that you will find out soon,” “It’s okay to be afraid,” and “You are
important to me. I will stay with you while we work this out.”<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Breathe deeply
together. </span></b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Deep
breathing allows the body to relax and alleviates anxious feelings. When
we breathe deeply with the child, we are teaching them a calming technique
and giving them a pattern to follow when they are alone.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Pray
together. </span></b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Prayer
activates our faith and dispels doubt and fear. Praying with an anxious
child gives them the confidence to approach God on their own when they are
having difficulty.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Make
preparations for future events. </span></b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Preparing provides concrete action
that calms anxious feelings. It gives us something to do while we are
waiting for an event to happen, especially when we do not know what the
outcome will be.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Check in with
the child after the event.</span></b><span face=""Verdana",sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Our presence after a
difficult event gives the child a chance to process what happened and
transfer positive memories for long term storage and later retrieval. When
we let them know that they continue to be important to us we increase
their feelings of confidence and worth.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ol>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="font-size: 10.5pt;">These ten ways not only calm an anxious child, but they give the
most important gift that we as adults have to give, our unconditional love.
Like a gentle spring rain, we provide life giving nourishment that has a
profound effect on the children in our world. We know that we have succeeded
when we see them providing the same service to their peers!</span></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-6423204464696399652022-12-13T10:50:00.000-08:002022-12-13T10:50:16.714-08:00No is Not a Four-Letter Word<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu7ILnDVtBildx5GH5VPY-pWsBVSpQPAh_2-UWEJtOEcHGZ7y5lNF5qNTm91SDJiasgCQ7Ahao8fCKmbeqLPysRnFKK_I0ix2iRksghk5OEFQPUhCv5FsRl2l_aKongEe6LEl4TtH0Jj8saaeNN9CwbJeS5gWSQE1O00bf2n6YC0R-4NXhI9n_s1Qh/s928/No.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="928" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu7ILnDVtBildx5GH5VPY-pWsBVSpQPAh_2-UWEJtOEcHGZ7y5lNF5qNTm91SDJiasgCQ7Ahao8fCKmbeqLPysRnFKK_I0ix2iRksghk5OEFQPUhCv5FsRl2l_aKongEe6LEl4TtH0Jj8saaeNN9CwbJeS5gWSQE1O00bf2n6YC0R-4NXhI9n_s1Qh/s320/No.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;">“No” is not a four-letter word. Now really,
that sounds a bit absurd to think that when we say “no” we swear and use God’s
name in vain or don’t care. Rather “No” is a way to protect our own worth that
we were born with here on this earth. It is a way to keep others from taking
advantage of us or throwing us under a passing bus.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt;">We say “No” when others try to step on our </span><span style="font-size: 12.6667px;">toes,</span><span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"> or we don’t like the way a situation goes. If our calendar is full and a
request is made, “No” keeps us from thinking we must make a grade and saying “Yes”
just to please another when we really don’t have the time to muster. “No” is
simply the easiest way to keep that hounding temptation at bay.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“No” helps us stay pure and clean and white
while others are having to suffer from blight that came into being when they
said “Yes” instead of holding up under duress. It’s the easiest way to arrive
home on time to family and friends, and clocks that chime, with all your money
still in your hand, you see, rather than spending it on a shopping spree.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8.0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We all know, however, there will come a time,
when we cannot say “No,” as we will be in that line that enters the great
towering clouds above, and we will be surrounded by those arms of love. Then we
will look through tears of joy and know that we said it enough when we were
down here below. We kept ourselves free from temptation and snare, and now we
are ready to happily share!<o:p></o:p></span></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-8932930599587408442022-11-10T09:08:00.002-08:002022-11-10T09:11:50.040-08:00Comparison<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQT_xvBEgj8UJ7le1346eqTxm_zRzyR9N4Jn5ehCJafjbudeUiscx4Nij1aTBZ9AB8HSO8srxexv7BM4zGmT5kbeETRLyHwLPEwGRij5jXSBCcKnF1ttY9X_iY7vDcmRAq1S4vRVoD9a9kiK4UDuV5W7B30ipPuf7YwBse5RzXCXt7uMbBl2JanHLr/s1090/11-10-22%20Comparison.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="818" data-original-width="1090" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQT_xvBEgj8UJ7le1346eqTxm_zRzyR9N4Jn5ehCJafjbudeUiscx4Nij1aTBZ9AB8HSO8srxexv7BM4zGmT5kbeETRLyHwLPEwGRij5jXSBCcKnF1ttY9X_iY7vDcmRAq1S4vRVoD9a9kiK4UDuV5W7B30ipPuf7YwBse5RzXCXt7uMbBl2JanHLr/s320/11-10-22%20Comparison.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Do you have an invisible rope
around your children?" a woman said to me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Excuse me?” I replied.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She said that whenever she saw me,
my children were so well behaved that she thought I had an invisible rope
around them. I was surprised to hear this, as I had just struggled keeping them
in line as we watched a school band concert.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"I wish my children were that
well behaved," she mused. Apparently, in comparing herself to me, she had
found herself wanting, and thought less of herself. Her happiness and contentment
decreased automatically. This often happens when we look at others, and then
back at ourselves. Here are four reasons why:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<ol start="1" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We compare weaknesses to strengths.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ol>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Comparison often leads to jealousy.
We want what we see others have. We see the things that they do well, or their
character strengths, and compare them to our weaknesses. The poem </span></span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Desiderata</i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span>says,<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> “If you compare
yourself with </span>others,<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be
greater and lesser persons than yourself." The anecdote for comparison is acceptance
or finding things we have in common with others. Then we rejoice in each
other's strengths and see our mutual benefit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<ol start="2" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We criticize our own efforts.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ol>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Comparison leads to criticism. We
tear ourselves down for what we don't have or what we "should have"
done. We beat ourselves up for not being better, minimizing our own feelings of
worth. After we feel bad, we look for what is bad in others. Animosity and
enmity result. Our relationships become less than what they could be. In
contrast, when we see that others are doing well and rejoice in their
successes, we build feelings of friendship and camaraderie.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<ol start="3" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo3; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We become prideful.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ol>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">C. S. Lewis once said, “Pride gets
no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the
next man.” Comparing ourselves to others makes us start to think that we are
better, smarter, or more worthwhile than them, and we look down on
them. The opposite is also true. When we have what we perceive is less
than others, we become envious of them and place barriers between us. Humility
is the opposite of pride. When we are humble, we learn from others rather than
comparing ourselves to them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<ol start="4" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo4; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We end up competing with others.<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ol>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Comparison leads to competition. We
want to do better and be better to show ourselves ahead of others. The constant
competition grates on our relationships and rather than talking about things
that uplift and strengthen each other, we boast and brag about what we have and
what we have accomplished.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Comparison is the thief of
happiness. It places our hearts upon the things of this world. In the end,
however, we discover that accumulation of things does not equal
happiness. Happiness comes in rejoicing in the good. The best thing we can
do is forget what we and others have and use our time loving ourselves and others.</span></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-9689502197108246092022-10-14T09:37:00.002-07:002022-10-14T09:37:30.084-07:00Posterity<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINkg0Y_v5l3DGwCD95stVIh5dHD6S5LyigN8z6ZwrfCLWYg5zZ2Bcym1x-faAQ6R_Wh0FDeTUWy8cYXZ8YXkTg8ZF52M2Ht9bCKoX_ALtQctTeRfweydxpz0eK25jBTSFw3wXBrA9hX1NMTi-WE8FVcIw8yJ-kqSeOt76cPAEPptuLbB8C3BQmdoX/s1272/Posterity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1012" data-original-width="1272" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINkg0Y_v5l3DGwCD95stVIh5dHD6S5LyigN8z6ZwrfCLWYg5zZ2Bcym1x-faAQ6R_Wh0FDeTUWy8cYXZ8YXkTg8ZF52M2Ht9bCKoX_ALtQctTeRfweydxpz0eK25jBTSFw3wXBrA9hX1NMTi-WE8FVcIw8yJ-kqSeOt76cPAEPptuLbB8C3BQmdoX/s320/Posterity.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Once again, I see your face, a gentle reminder of God’s good
grace. I take your hand and hold it close, then look in your eyes, I see the
most reveling part of my own heart, as if it has been opened wide and for a
moment, I see inside. A part of me has become its own, growing and changing,
like a seed that was sewn.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For years, I watered and fed it with care, the daily deeds,
the work that was there, the ins and outs, the ups and downs, the hurt and the
pain, the smiles and frowns. The life that we lived, forever a part, the time
that we ran and jumped and played, the late nights where we wept and prayed,
the days when we laughed and rejoiced in the sun, the moments we tumbled around
and had fun.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now I see the seed grown so straight and tall, with branches
spread wide, holding one and all. The shade provided to all around has come
full circle, back to my own ground. Who would have known back when we did start
that one day new life would come back to me and give me eyes with which I could
see the small hands and feet, a spirit now given, a part of me has been blessed
from heaven.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Tears of joy fill my eyes and fall down as I hold my
posterity in any size of gown, the weddings, the blessings, the graduations,
the race, the moments that are laced with heavenly grace, the daily tasks, the
shopping, the cart, the times we were afraid, the night of darkness and fear
when we didn’t know how long we would hold them near. For as our posterity grow
and move on, our eyes grow dim, and we prepare to sing a new song!<o:p></o:p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-40009564555885360542022-09-21T09:10:00.000-07:002022-09-21T09:10:01.279-07:00Forgive Yourself<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1rOdqa_wL67ab-iBXe7yWqGyd-EtnXe5iRAUsqJMyG79DZ6K3tzvfp1Knc4DimCU0I1Jk6G4dhNmC0szJY_xCK-s6Ze1m7FSuefqI_OdrD2N4Zn_U4Vmvg4aup36gW8kw1ybr5w7yJ829MLnNwjsbqChFUPXwiDbszVelE0Bb7L4pQkytpxk44tZl/s1100/9-21-22Best%20Friend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="708" data-original-width="1100" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1rOdqa_wL67ab-iBXe7yWqGyd-EtnXe5iRAUsqJMyG79DZ6K3tzvfp1Knc4DimCU0I1Jk6G4dhNmC0szJY_xCK-s6Ze1m7FSuefqI_OdrD2N4Zn_U4Vmvg4aup36gW8kw1ybr5w7yJ829MLnNwjsbqChFUPXwiDbszVelE0Bb7L4pQkytpxk44tZl/s320/9-21-22Best%20Friend.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Forgive yourself. You can, you know. The pain is not worth
the scars that grow building walls of hate around your heart that keep you
separate, from being a part of the love that God sheds abroad on mankind for
all who would see it without being blind.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Forgive yourself. It is balm for the soul. It helps you heal
so that you can be whole. It gives you a sense of worth to yourself, and keeps
you from being left on the shelf to wither and die of loneliness there, a
burden no being need ever bear.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Forgive yourself. You deserve a break, for life is not just
made out of fate. There are choices we make in and around. We all make
mistakes, but we can rebound. There will always be lessons that we can learn,
there is always another dollar to earn.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Forgive yourself. Let yourself live! There is plenty of time
for you to give. It isn’t necessary to put yourself out to the point that you
want to grumble and shout. Let yourself breathe, take some time to relax, you
needn’t be burdened and overtaxed!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Forgive yourself for that’s what Christ would do, if He were
here and in your shoe. Accept the gift that He gave on the cross, the price
that He paid so that none would be lost. Embrace Him now, feel of His love, and
let the sun shine, a gift from above! <o:p></o:p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-67049715700366922132022-08-25T08:25:00.004-07:002022-08-25T08:25:28.390-07:00Trust<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyErEOxDFKN_E2f3Jm-pO7tHkV4po9P34_tbHer_vafIYXWvdQzKPH7hUdkNLFSVYAhifEIRgHOXc1Nfk4JTFMeP67NJErSi7XCkpWTDwIsy5lwluynZZ3wZfOCXD8aPcryCg2TRlVTvxTNqfYwb7E3VgH0RhsHvLIaQhAiNKQPwG2Pn-190T7k2Kc/s1288/8-25-22%20Trust.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1288" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyErEOxDFKN_E2f3Jm-pO7tHkV4po9P34_tbHer_vafIYXWvdQzKPH7hUdkNLFSVYAhifEIRgHOXc1Nfk4JTFMeP67NJErSi7XCkpWTDwIsy5lwluynZZ3wZfOCXD8aPcryCg2TRlVTvxTNqfYwb7E3VgH0RhsHvLIaQhAiNKQPwG2Pn-190T7k2Kc/s320/8-25-22%20Trust.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p>The girl pointed her
finger at me, her brows knit together in scorn, then to the “Angry” icon on her
assistive technology device. Though she spoke no words, I could feel the
distrust emanating from her. I was there in the place of her regular teacher,
and she did not know why.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I voiced the words
that she could not, saying to the paraprofessional that was helping her, “Her
teacher is not here, and she does not know me.” The woman’s eyebrows raised, and
she said to the girl, “You are sad because your teacher is not here.” The girl
stopped pointing at me, found the “Sad” icon, and was able to move on.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Later, as we sat
together and watched a video book presentation, the girl reached her hand over
to mine and held it softly. I put mine on top of hers, and together we
watched in silence. There was no need for words to express the poignant
feelings shared. I could tell. She trusted me!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I had prayed that
morning that my first day on the job substitute teaching would be a successful
one, that I would feel God’s love for the students, and that I could share his
love with them. It had happened in a way I never thought possible.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At the end of the
class period, the girl gave me a hug, and we walked hand in hand to the door.
Still, no words were spoken, but I knew that I was in the right place at the
right time. My purpose had been fulfilled in that small moment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Proverbs 3:5-6 tells
us to “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own
understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”
This was my theme song when I left the mental health unit years ago. Now, it
has become my lifeline.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When I decided to
leave my employment as an office manager, I felt that God was directing me to
go and serve his children as a substitute teacher in the public school system.
At first, I was frightened. So many things had happened in my past that had
taken me from that realm of the world.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Now, here I am,
stepping back into it, having the very experiences that called me in that
direction in the first place. Surely, a way will be provided, and I can go
forward with faith, trusting that all will be well!</span></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-52501532437513969072022-04-27T14:17:00.002-07:002022-04-27T14:17:24.984-07:00Clean<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5waxDNBKMUsQSzaE_mnwGRKSqreFAAnWhuo5rcn2aCCVr03K7VUUGpKhSfKwUYthCzme14osE3UXEpYbxVDlDXmGcHPgYdEBLCH6NTdc_rRHokMZmFQVc-nNoDr34Ltvu95MLZMZcH9PNt0Y-e-8ZgAv0Qz0iPbsx_dLDBVwsgpTT1YhebEJZuNWq/s1272/Clean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="944" data-original-width="1272" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5waxDNBKMUsQSzaE_mnwGRKSqreFAAnWhuo5rcn2aCCVr03K7VUUGpKhSfKwUYthCzme14osE3UXEpYbxVDlDXmGcHPgYdEBLCH6NTdc_rRHokMZmFQVc-nNoDr34Ltvu95MLZMZcH9PNt0Y-e-8ZgAv0Qz0iPbsx_dLDBVwsgpTT1YhebEJZuNWq/s320/Clean.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> Once again on my hands and knees, scrubbing the dirt from
the cracks and the seams. I thought that the floor was clean when I mopped, but
then I noticed the flecks and I stopped. I grabbed a sponge and got down on all
fours, and there it was around all the mop boards as if little tractors had
deposited their grime when they marched through the house in double time!<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I groaned and I fretted until the mopping was done and
determined that before the day’s setting sun, I would take the time to clean it
all out and make the floor shine. It would be clean, no doubt! Little did I
know what lie in store, and the lesson I would learn from a simple floor. My
heart must have been right for the teacher appeared, the message delivered, my
conscience cleared.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I started in the easiest spot that I found by the bedroom
carpet, there I put my knees down. With my nose as close to the floor as I
could, I noticed the tracks across the edge of the wood. Like flecks of tar that
came in from the street, they stuck to the floor, and I sprayed on a sheet of
chemical to loosen them so I could scrub and then took a rag and began to rub.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It didn’t come loose unless I pushed with my hands, my
fingertips ached, my muscles like bands, my shoulders hunched forward, hard to
the task, my back sinews taut as time marched on past. I moved down the hall to
the dining room, under the table, each crack I did groom. The sweat poured like
rain from my brow up above, so I wiped with my sleeve and wished for a glove.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Then somewhere, somehow, in my simple mind’s eye, the sweat
became blood where my Savior did cry. He, too, was down on his hands and his
knees, the sweat there did pour, his muscles pain seized. He was determined to
stay strong to the end, to finish the work, God’s will not to bend. He prayed
and he bled from every pore, when he thought that he could not take any more. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For a moment I watched him, my heart opened wide, wanting to
hold him, aching inside. I felt as if I was there in the flesh, his spirit and
mine were one, enmeshed. Tears fell down my face as I prayed silently. “Thy
will be done,” he said quietly. Only then did my eyes see again the floor and
the task that I faced was no longer a bore.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What he did there that day for you and for me, we will never
know, we will never see. All that we know is that when he was done, we were no
longer ours past the setting sun. We were bought with a price that he paid then
and there, no matter what we’ve done, whether or not we do care. He simply says
“Come, follow me,” I will take you there, then set you free.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">By the time I was finished, I knew in my heart, that a clean
floor may be important, if I do my part, but there is something that I cannot
do for myself that he did for me, not just a book on a shelf. He gave me a
chance to be clean through and through, much past the surface, my heart and
soul, too. He paid the price that I might live. His blood washed me clean. His
praises I give!<o:p></o:p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-66458694219655884962022-03-17T05:58:00.010-07:002022-03-17T06:10:07.943-07:00Assertiveness<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgakYzPayaz7dBECwJobtXwrJbtAG1tr0gAfHxSIzzz9XO9N_OmfutuWrdRo5IERiUI2I76eD8zdERqjymNFJfZas6dU90QS-TRTZI-4Zg0Pm8Fjq0VojAB0Z5biUakjG5_6m9vXeOfnW9laOHbk4FlrXWSm2tLeQqltUViDTNVNSxyhuAQjmSNOvYp=s928" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="928" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgakYzPayaz7dBECwJobtXwrJbtAG1tr0gAfHxSIzzz9XO9N_OmfutuWrdRo5IERiUI2I76eD8zdERqjymNFJfZas6dU90QS-TRTZI-4Zg0Pm8Fjq0VojAB0Z5biUakjG5_6m9vXeOfnW9laOHbk4FlrXWSm2tLeQqltUViDTNVNSxyhuAQjmSNOvYp=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal">“No, I cannot help you, I am not available then,” but in my
mind I am saying, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I will not do that
again. You stepped upon me once before and left me injured there. I will not be
in that place again, although you say you care.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Assertiveness is a skill that I am learning how to use. It
gives my heart protection and keeps me from being used. It means that I will
say how I feel at the time the event takes place rather than waiting and trying
to please, or rather than saving face.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Do you have a minute? We need to talk,” I said to my
colleague and friend. “Just a moment, I’ll be right there,” she said as she
rounded the bend. We went into a private room and there discussed the scene
that had unfolded just moments before leaving me embarrassed, it seemed.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“You say I did this thing to you, you may feel rightly so,” but in my mind I am saying,</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">your choices you made, you know. I cannot take the credit for making you what you are. The things that you have done before are bringing you this far.</i></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I will stand and hold
my ground; I am just as important as you. I need to not cower or run and hide,
to myself, I will be true. For I am strong, and I am free, to choose how I want
to live. And God, He will be with me. For me, new life He did give.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<br /></div>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-68165286944015779972022-02-22T14:25:00.001-08:002022-02-22T14:25:12.361-08:00Stuck<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi38oVQYklY-Gshwg7hkEVqKDMB3ckoDRQwsZrgO13_Re5g5NyPOVczUiM3PkjxDJTlHL-yRupkv3DV65qouQ5JZWHKykH9J0hpYAFmj0iUDingrLFIM7-_ntnyNZQ9z-abCW5noBPGbc_q6CMkb8ytHG0M9Z82MpnqyA3cv8rnObMzwdZkBPOe4giH=s1320" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1320" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi38oVQYklY-Gshwg7hkEVqKDMB3ckoDRQwsZrgO13_Re5g5NyPOVczUiM3PkjxDJTlHL-yRupkv3DV65qouQ5JZWHKykH9J0hpYAFmj0iUDingrLFIM7-_ntnyNZQ9z-abCW5noBPGbc_q6CMkb8ytHG0M9Z82MpnqyA3cv8rnObMzwdZkBPOe4giH=s320" width="320" /></a></div> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">I don’t know what to
do. Nothing is working out for me right now. No matter which way I turn, things
keep getting worse. I feel like I am in a </span><span style="font-size: 14px;">hole,</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> and it is getting deeper and
deeper. When will it ever end?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Surely, I am suffering
because I don’t deserve anything better. If I would have been a different
person, then I wouldn’t be where I am today. I wouldn’t be having these
problems right now. It is all my fault.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At night I toss and
turn, my head filled with images of the things I could have done or should have
done. I cannot rest. I hurt all over. I want to go back to bed, but I can’t. I
have things to do…places to go…people to see... I am exhausted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I feel like I am
lost in a desert. I cannot get relief for my incessant thirst. I don’t
have any water and there is none around me. I am hot and dry, and there is no
shade in which to cool myself. The sun is scorching me and there is no relief.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Something has got to
change. I know what I cannot do. I cannot change the past. What has happened
has happened. If only I could turn back the hands of time, I could make things
different. But, alas, that is not possible.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I cannot change the
actions of others. They have made their own choices just as I have. I cannot
force them to change, nor can I change their past. I cannot change how they
treat me, or what they do as a result of my foolishness.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What can I do? First
and foremost, I can accept who and what I am. Ripping myself to pieces will not
get me anywhere. Crying just makes my head hurt. Anger is no better; all it
does is dredge up the past. Yes, I have weaknesses, but I also have strengths.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I can look to my God
for help. He is my rock, my guide, and my stay. He loves me, no matter what I
have done, no matter where I end up. He gave his life on the cross for me,
little old foolish, insignificant me. He died that I might live.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I will live for Him. I
will work for Him. I will praise the new beginning I have each day because of
Him. I will look at others needs and help fulfill them because I know that is
what He would have me to do. I know that He is with me now, and always will be,
forever and forever!<o:p></o:p></span></p><br />Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-27968442809454109882022-01-13T12:35:00.007-08:002022-01-13T12:35:46.314-08:00Moving Mountains<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0WcJkNpY_V4ZC4EGQm_M2abBbZq5n1nlCnqX9vd5RJ5xpTF90TrI239zUorGkUF3J-F2lA_E_LZSYopNLvMlK0rckV9Uk0acrRJCt4XAw-FfxlaDOwhpDMRRnpSN3u_sJdm9l9TRk-J7Ctiv1rDzopY_gIsa6siVktj9hUR5OtxBhQfCiJ4x4pklT=s1108" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1108" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0WcJkNpY_V4ZC4EGQm_M2abBbZq5n1nlCnqX9vd5RJ5xpTF90TrI239zUorGkUF3J-F2lA_E_LZSYopNLvMlK0rckV9Uk0acrRJCt4XAw-FfxlaDOwhpDMRRnpSN3u_sJdm9l9TRk-J7Ctiv1rDzopY_gIsa6siVktj9hUR5OtxBhQfCiJ4x4pklT=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">I cannot move this mountain, Lord; it is way too deep, too
wide. I’ve toiled until my bones do ache, ‘til way past eventide. I cannot go
around, dear Lord, a chasm is in the way. There is no bridge for me to cross, no
ferry in the bay.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I cannot climb, it is way too steep, the rock face sheer and
bare. There are no trees for me to grasp, no foot holes anywhere. How can I
fill this mission, Lord, for I am but a man? My strength is not enough, dear
Lord, I need a helping hand.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Oh, my son, you did not hear, when I called for help today.
You were too busy toiling to hold a light and show the way. You were more
concerned about the matters nigh at hand, the mountain right in front of you,
than the needs of your fellow man.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">How can I lend a hand to you when you have turned your back
on those who need my love through you, who daily needs do lack? Go and serve
them, then come back, and you will surely see, that we can move this mountain
together, you and me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I left my shovel at my feet and went away from the
mountainside. I found another I could help on my way home that eventide. I saw
them rested and refreshed and encouraged them to see the light at the end of
the tunnel, for He said, “Come, follow me.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As I turned to leave the simple words came ringing in my
ears, “What can I do to help you, you’ve been so kind all of these years.” “I’m
trying to move a mountain,” I said with faltering tone, “But it really is not
important, I just can’t do it alone.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Let us go together,” he said, “There is still hope. I’ll
bring a spade, a ladder, and plenty of braided rope.” Once again, the mountain
we faced, but this time with the strength of ten. The Lord, me, and my brother,
but now, for the salvation of men!<o:p></o:p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-50108157099129788662021-04-17T07:55:00.002-07:002022-01-13T12:36:20.202-08:00It’s Easy<p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VexrkzJGkVM/YHr2S9RvCKI/AAAAAAAACy4/Mu54Jdu6EnosRKIxvoeLoIqqmrXtsK4QACLcBGAsYHQ/s1650/4-16-20%2BGod%2BSave%2BUs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1650" data-original-width="1275" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VexrkzJGkVM/YHr2S9RvCKI/AAAAAAAACy4/Mu54Jdu6EnosRKIxvoeLoIqqmrXtsK4QACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/4-16-20%2BGod%2BSave%2BUs.jpg" /></a></div><br />It’s
easy to feel bad when things go wrong and we realize we made a mistake in a
song or said something stupid or clicked on that file and the consequences seem
to go on for a mile.<p></p>
<p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">It’s
easy to think we’re not good enough and that we really do not have the right
stuff to become what we were meant to be, to give of ourselves, to go forward,
be free.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">It’s
easy to frown and turn anger within when we realize that we have committed a
sin and someone is hurt or defeated in soul because we were not with it, in
part or in whole.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">It’s
easy to cry when our weaknesses scream and everything comes apart at the seams,
when little things tower and are huge in form and we know that we have stepped
outside of the norm.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">It’s
easy to feel all alone in the night when there’s no place to turn and we’re
frozen with fright, when life seems so<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>hard and
there's no place to hide, and morning is a long way from eventide.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">It’s
easy to fall on our knees in prayer when our pride has tumbled and is no longer
there, to raise our voices and hope for the love that we know only comes from
the realms up above.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">It’s
easy to place at his nail-pierced feet the burden too heavy for our faltering
feet, to think that perhaps we can make amends after wondering abroad
around life's many bends.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">It’s
easy to look up into his face and hope that he’ll give his amazing grace, in
spite of our weakness; in spite of our sin, he’ll open his arms and wrap us
within.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">It’s
easy to stand by his side once again, and shoulder the yoke that he shares
with all men, to keep us going when the times are tough, helping us climb
the hills that are rough.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">It’s
easy to feel indescribable joy when we know that he loves every girl, every
boy, for heaven is where he is today, our Savior, Redeemer, our
friend come what may.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-30091318916923293012020-12-05T11:43:00.000-08:002020-12-05T11:43:04.465-08:00Unexpected<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CyATd0yObUc/X8viVL20GaI/AAAAAAAACuw/53byn2LPtwQu08f7CjMI2lw6MXEEv_nuwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1648/Connections.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1088" data-original-width="1648" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CyATd0yObUc/X8viVL20GaI/AAAAAAAACuw/53byn2LPtwQu08f7CjMI2lw6MXEEv_nuwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Connections.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">The knock came unexpectedly. I really didn’t hear. But when
it came again, I knew, it sounded much more near. I looked out through the
window, not knowing who I’d see and there were four big fear filled eyes
looking back at me.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I quickly opened up the door and asked what I could do. The
girls said they were playing ball, and in my yard it flew. “Will you please get
it for us, and then we will be gone. We’ll be more careful next time, our
grandma’s watching on.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I told the girls to go on back and get the ball themselves.
I gestured to the path to take, they ran like little elves. I went back to the
other side, my feelings in suspense, and noticed grandma standing there, beside
the neighbor’s fence. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I went outside to greet her. She apologized and smiled. We
shook hands and exchanged our names, our information filed. I assured the girls
and her right there that if they needed to, they could come into the yard for
ball, or bat or shoe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As I walked back into the house, I hung my head and sighed.
They’d lived there now for quite some time, my neighbor’s home inside. We had
seen each other once or twice but never really known the truth about each
other, or seeds of friendship sewn.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">How things can change so easily, in a moment that is gone.
The unexpected turns us round and we find we’re not alone. There are others all
around us who need a helping hand. As we reach out to them, the dove of peace
will land. <o:p></o:p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-80578258905367606082020-11-13T17:47:00.000-08:002020-11-13T17:47:00.443-08:00Lifeguard<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QD2rYYIHVxg/X681-vRBARI/AAAAAAAACt0/WrU_dxVW320KMXbTOXRutRxLpfhBgK79wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1648/Loneliness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1172" data-original-width="1648" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QD2rYYIHVxg/X681-vRBARI/AAAAAAAACt0/WrU_dxVW320KMXbTOXRutRxLpfhBgK79wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Loneliness.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">I feel so alone. There are people, activities, and things
all around me, and yet, my heart cries out, consumed with an emptiness that I
can’t define or even begin to understand.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Why do I feel this way? Could it be that I am looking too
far into the future? I know that there will come a time when those that I love
will crumble to the dust, and I will be bereft of their company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or is it simply that they are not with me
now, and I miss them terribly?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Is my current position of solitude a problem? Here I sit on
a single tower, drinking in the freedom others enjoy and yet, is that what I
really want? There is so much of me waiting, hoping that there is something
more.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I start new relationships, pursue new passions, and dream
new dreams, only to have them peter out and fall by the wayside. I return once
again to where I am, empty and alone. Will it always be this way? Was there a
time I looked forward to waking in the morning, eager to greet the new day,
refreshed and ready to go forward? I don’t remember.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Life has simply been one more day, one more round of noise
and confusion, one more time when my presence is needed. And yet my heart is
left behind, lurking in the shadows…waiting. I always seem to be waiting for
something, somewhere else that I can be.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I am in a constant state of anticipation. Like the paramedic
on call, any moment the beeper will sound, and my heart will leap into action.
I am poised, ready to help, ready to defend, and ready to move in an effort to save
yet another person from drowning in the water before me.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Unfazed by the danger at hand, I throw myself into the brink,
employing every muscle and sinew to reach them before it is too late. I
surround them with the lifeline of my unconditional love, allow them to rely on
my strength, and struggle with them as they make their way to the shore. We
embrace, a moment of gratitude is shared, and they move on. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I watch them as they fade into the distance, marveling at
the miracle that just occurred. There is nothing like being at the right place
at the right time, for a life spared is a family saved from being dashed to
pieces and left to wallow in misery. In that brief moment, my purpose is
fulfilled. My loneliness is gone, and I am content.<o:p></o:p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-28906598122749162582020-10-24T10:15:00.000-07:002020-10-24T10:15:30.986-07:00If Only<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pxUPuV-gRT0/X5RgpmoqCNI/AAAAAAAACtg/qu94jC6g0dIDtaCInF_SwFi933lLTp3OwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1040/10-24-20%2BIf%2BOnly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="776" data-original-width="1040" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pxUPuV-gRT0/X5RgpmoqCNI/AAAAAAAACtg/qu94jC6g0dIDtaCInF_SwFi933lLTp3OwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/10-24-20%2BIf%2BOnly.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />If only we could stop the world and get off for a day, then
maybe we could take a break from life’s continuous fray. We could breathe a
sigh and take a look at things we just don’t see, and perhaps become the people
we were really meant to be.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We could rewind time and change our past to a more desirable
state and erase some things that were said and done that really were not first
rate. We could lay a firm foundation and vanquish every foe. We could change
the future and the past with what we do now know.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If only it were possible, we’d have a second chance. We would
be more happy, we could really sing and dance. Then when the world began again,
we’d be in a different place. Life would be more pleasant, we could keep a
different pace.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But alas, it is not possible. We are where we are now. We
are the sum and differential of our past mistakes somehow. We cannot take away
what was, it’s the road on which we stand. The future is yet before us, changing
like the shifting sand.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What will it take to get our feet back on the solid ground? The
world may keep on turning, but our choices come around. Each moment that we
breathe, we really have a second chance; each day a new beginning, another
song, another dance. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We have within each one of us our eyes with which to see,
hands and feet that feel and touch, and ears, we all agree. We can choose a different
way, and walk the better road. We do not have to wait until the world ends, we
are told.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We do not know how long we have left here upon this earth. One
day, indeed, the world will stop; we’ll experience a new birth. We will leave
behind all that we know and go to the great beyond. Our eyes will then be
opened, like the wave of a magic wand. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our Maker will encircle us in the arms of His great love,
and we will hear the echoes of the choirs up above. We will look down to the
earth we left and wonder then once more, why we didn’t see things differently, and
head for a brighter shore.<o:p></o:p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-23610192351071785352020-10-10T11:56:00.002-07:002020-10-10T11:56:17.743-07:00The Path to Happiness<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XlS_-bcKNBc/X4IDdwWE2cI/AAAAAAAACtI/LzsjdxSx_aYcMEcRJGAbSrNOaXlAjbaZwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1650/10-10-20%2BHappiness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="1650" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XlS_-bcKNBc/X4IDdwWE2cI/AAAAAAAACtI/LzsjdxSx_aYcMEcRJGAbSrNOaXlAjbaZwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/10-10-20%2BHappiness.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal">I am surrounded by sadness on every hand. Death and
destruction sweep over the land. How can I smile and feel happy today? Things
simply aren’t going very much my way.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Life is full of irony indeed. There is much of pain, of
want, of need. There are many who have not a place to live and there are those who
have not a morsel to give.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Is happiness having an absence of pain? Is it simply
sunshine, or the lack of rain? If so, then happiness is empty indeed, for rain
has its place once we have planted a seed.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If tears are a sin, then we have all fallen short, for each
human being has hurt to report. Can happiness come even when there is pain? Is
it possible to smile through the clouds and the rain?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Can I simply this day step outside of the zone, and allow myself
a reprieve, a small moment alone to look for the good, to feel grateful, to
love, all of the blessings that flow from above?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If I can, then happiness will surely come, for pure joy is a
gift from The Sinless One. He said, “Come to me and I will take you in, in
spite of your sorrow, in spite of your sin.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Today, though the tears so easily fall, I will do as the One
who gave his all. I will look for others in sadness and pain. I will hold an
umbrella for those in the rain.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I will keep going forward with eyes now aware that there are
others whose cupboards are bare. I will give what I have until there is no
more. I will hold up my light on this rocky shore.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I will live my life full of purpose and love, and shed forth
the peace that comes from above. I will serve until I hear the words that say,
“Well done, my servant, you are here now to stay!”<o:p></o:p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-18616561293809441712020-09-21T04:46:00.002-07:002022-06-03T09:15:57.334-07:00Change<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uqDhklR7TNE/X2iR-hnSzTI/AAAAAAAACs0/aKNnwoiE1_8JZmet0UYqNeWpmjekw3SrACLcBGAsYHQ/s1650/Change.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1650" data-original-width="1275" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uqDhklR7TNE/X2iR-hnSzTI/AAAAAAAACs0/aKNnwoiE1_8JZmet0UYqNeWpmjekw3SrACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Change.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Change is a merciless task master. It lets us know that the
status quo is no longer acceptable and in order for us to get back in sync, we
have to do something different. For a time, we grope around in the darkness,
hoping to find the light of understanding.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Before we know it, we are blinded by the glare of the
obvious and suddenly realize that we have already shed the familiar garments of
yesterday. They have been snatched from our grasp before we have time to even
look for a wardrobe suitable for tomorrow. We are left exposed for the entire
world to see.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Embarrassed and humiliated, we wrap our arms around
ourselves, hoping somehow to protect our delicate ego before it is lost in
total obliteration. Then, a friendly voice speaks our name. We look up only to
find that we are already discovered, that others know about our weakness and
imperfection.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We beg for mercy, hoping that somewhere in their heart of hearts,
there is room for compassion. We plead and bargain, saying that we will do
whatever it takes, just let us be given a covering for our cold, stark
nakedness. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A hand comes forward, reaching out toward us with kindness.
We see it and put our own forward, suddenly taken aback by the scarred imprint
therein. Surely, it could not be! But is it? Truly, he loved and gave all that
we might live. Can he really be coming here, just for me?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I
will give you rest,” He says. “Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am
meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls” (Matthew
11:28-29).<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">His grasp is warm and inviting, his arms enclose us and we
are brought into his bosom. There, amidst our tears and prayers, we are given
strength and peace. He sheds his own garments and wraps us in them, and sends
us on our way rejoicing! <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We look down, aware that our nakedness has been covered. The
garments are richer than any we have ever known. We feel the softness against
our skin. We bask in the warmth and beauty surrounding us. Indeed, life is
better now than anything we have ever known. We have been redeemed!<o:p></o:p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-50168559987931858722020-08-22T09:08:00.000-07:002020-08-22T09:08:15.193-07:00Appreciation<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GihvnnLC5JA/X0FCHi4FGQI/AAAAAAAACrk/YutwmDlubns8OJCHhax8WNOctjEDXUROQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1388/8-22-20%2BAppreciation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1052" data-original-width="1388" height="310" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GihvnnLC5JA/X0FCHi4FGQI/AAAAAAAACrk/YutwmDlubns8OJCHhax8WNOctjEDXUROQCLcBGAsYHQ/w410-h310/8-22-20%2BAppreciation.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal">Thanks! I appreciate you. I am so glad you are here. It is
good to see you. Thank you for thinking of me. That was amazing! You timed it
just right. I like how you did that. You seemed to know just what I needed.
Hey, you saved me back there. I feel that you understand me.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Words of appreciation are music to our ears. They feed us
with feelings of self-worth and help us to know that others acknowledge our
efforts. Like rays of sunshine, they give us the warmth of unconditional love
and speak peace to our souls.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sharing appreciation with others validates their sense of
being. When we share words of appreciation, we are saying, “I care about you.
You are important to me. I want you to be happy. I am glad that you are who you
are.” The more we share the gift of appreciation with others, the more it comes
back to bless our own lives.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have a good friend that understands this principle. When I
am with her, I feel that I am the most important person in her world. Recently,
I watched her interact with others, and found that she does this with everyone.
No wonder others flock around her.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Appreciation is not the same as flattery. Flattery is
lifting others up for the purpose of our own gain. Its motive is to achieve a
relationship of power and authority over others by getting them to become
dependent upon us for their good feelings. Those who use flattery do so with
the intent to destroy rather than build.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Appreciation is genuine. It is Christ-like love at its best.
There is no other motive than the pure desire to share love with others, and
help them feel that they are loved. When Christ was on the earth, he went about
doing good. Although he had all power and all authority, his only aim was the
exaltation of mankind. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our desire to be like him will lead us to build up others
with sincere words of appreciation. Only then, will we be a vital part of his
kingdom here on this earth. As he said, “<span style="color: #333333;">For
behold, this is my<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>work<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and my<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>glory—to bring to pass the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>immortality<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>eternal<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>life<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of
man” (Moses 1:39). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #333333;">Always add appreciation when
communicating with others. It is the gift of unconditional love, and just may
be the boost they need to go on living one more day!<o:p></o:p></span></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-46100528772615902852020-08-08T08:22:00.001-07:002020-08-08T08:23:41.128-07:00The Price of Peaches<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3SluvZ5Wx9c/Xy7CuanF5HI/AAAAAAAACq8/P9kQPFfwMZo1QNeb-05vZDNM7iOMpg6UgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1650/8-8-20%2B-%2BWhat%2Bwe%2Bdo%2Btogether.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="1650" height="396" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3SluvZ5Wx9c/Xy7CuanF5HI/AAAAAAAACq8/P9kQPFfwMZo1QNeb-05vZDNM7iOMpg6UgCLcBGAsYHQ/w512-h396/8-8-20%2B-%2BWhat%2Bwe%2Bdo%2Btogether.jpg" width="512" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">1978 was a good year! We were married in August of that year
and shortly afterward moved into a small one-bedroom apartment with no front
door. Our entrance was the stairway above the garage. There were three doors at
the top of that stairway: one for the bedroom, one for the kitchen, and one for
the bathroom!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We were determined to make it work. While my husband went to
school, I took in sewing, provided babysitting services, and kept house. One
day, I happened to be at the right place at the right time, and stumbled upon a
bushel basket of ripe peaches! <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Excited that we could begin our food storage, I paid the
nominal fee and went home with my treasure. Knowing that they wouldn’t last
long, I was determined to preserve them that very day. My husband came home
from school, weary from studying all day, only to find me hard at work washing
jars and preparing the syrup for canning.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">With the patience of Job, he put his arms around me and gave
me a big hug, then rolled up his sleeves. Together we blanched and pealed the
peaches, carefully placing them in the jars. We covered them with the hot syrup
and lowered them into the water bath.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We laughed and played like children as one by one, we added
the jars of peaches to our little kitchen table. Steam filled the room, but joy
filled our hearts that night. Together, we had followed the words of the
prophets and laid aside for our future needs.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Those peaches seemed to last forever! Each time we brought
one up from the storage room, we relived the blessed experience of putting our
hands and hearts together in a project that not only solidified our union, but
gave us sweet experiences for many years to come…all for the price of a bushel
of peaches!<o:p></o:p></p>Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-69741503428710485302020-07-24T04:24:00.002-07:002020-07-25T05:53:46.340-07:00Uncertainty<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #222222; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JTNG9UG59jY/XxrEKYKvdAI/AAAAAAAACqk/Z_fHN_oyp1o-qndzU3jJHNuJbtC4PZkBQCLcBGAsYHQ/s895/7-24-20%2BUncertainty.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="670" data-original-width="895" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JTNG9UG59jY/XxrEKYKvdAI/AAAAAAAACqk/Z_fHN_oyp1o-qndzU3jJHNuJbtC4PZkBQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/7-24-20%2BUncertainty.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><font color="#666666">I am bound by the chains of uncertainty,
surrounded by chaos and strife. There’s confusion about me on every hand,
should I flee or stand up and fight?<o:p></o:p></font><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><font color="#666666">I am bound by the chains of uncertainty. I
feel I am in over my head. I am sinking into the pit of despair. Is there no
Balm in Gilead?<o:p></o:p></font></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><font color="#666666">I am bound by the chains of uncertainty. I do
not know where to go. I cannot find a place where there is peace on the earth.
If there is, how shall I know?<o:p></o:p></font></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><font color="#666666">I am bound by the chains of uncertainty. The
time is going by fast. If I do not do something soon, I will die. Oh, how long
will it last?<o:p></o:p></font></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><font color="#666666">I am bound by the chains of uncertainty. The
night full of darkness and fear is settling in all about me. Is there no light
left in here?<o:p></o:p></font></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><font color="#666666">I am bound by the chains of uncertainty. I am
falling upon my knees. Dear God, please take away my fear. Will you help me,
Lord, please?<o:p></o:p></font></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><font color="#666666">I will break the chains of uncertainty. I will
calm the raging sea. Take my hand, my child, I am here today. Will you not come
and follow me?<o:p></o:p></font></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 10.2pt; margin-bottom: 8pt;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><font color="#666666">No longer bound by the chains of uncertainty,
I am bathed in peace and light. No matter what happens around me, I am held by
the Lord of Life.<o:p></o:p></font></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><font color="#666666">©<i>2020
by Denise W. Anderson, all rights reserved. </i></font></span><o:p></o:p></p><br />Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869729163101677735.post-36735465643214373192020-07-04T09:47:00.001-07:002020-07-04T09:47:50.365-07:00Legacy<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1gYpLt407Y0/XwCyHqKjJDI/AAAAAAAACqI/pR6CiNPKL30bRr8NuKoEuRt9S1eZgKsMACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/7-4-20%2BLegacy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1020" data-original-width="1276" height="255" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1gYpLt407Y0/XwCyHqKjJDI/AAAAAAAACqI/pR6CiNPKL30bRr8NuKoEuRt9S1eZgKsMACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/7-4-20%2BLegacy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I want to leave a legacy for those who will come after me,
that when the bell tolls and I am gone, it will not have silenced my earthly
song. They will have heard of the times that I wept and prayed that heaven’s
assistance might not be stayed, the times that I overcame the night, and was
able to make it ‘till morning’s light.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I want them to know that though life was hard, I kept on
going, my senses marred by the winds and the waves that tossed me about, my
heart within me trying to shout. When the skies were black and the storm clouds
grim, threatening the loss of life and limb. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Yet the gales ceased and there was great calm, a generous
dose of healing balm. A peace enveloped my mind and heart, giving me once again
a new start. I basked in the warmth of the sun on my face, gaining strength yet
for another race. I tethered my ship, and patched up the holes and even had the
courage to set a few goals.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I want them to see the path ever clear and know that I am
always near. That though they may stumble and though they may fall, there is
one waiting there who has given his all that they may rise and conquer again
because of the price that he paid back then.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I want them to hear the voice of gladness that speaks to the
soul, amidst all the madness, that guides our path and shelters our way and
helps us to sing at the end of the day. That our children may laugh, and dance
and play, and be held in our arms, come what may.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I want them to feel passion for those in need whose souls
are hungered, or bent, or do bleed, who look up to heaven and weep at the
thought that they haven’t been able to get what they sought; forever empty,
forever alone, forever in want of a hand in their own.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I want them to touch others with a love that is deep, and
lose their lives, that perhaps they might keep the treasure of happiness living
each day, keeping bitterness and hatred at bay. For life is short, our days
long spent, achieving the purpose for which we were sent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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I want to leave this world a better place because of my
sojourn in this rat-filled race. I want to be seen as one who cared, who took
the time that a life would be spared. Whom others will see and simply say, “We
knew heaven for a moment when she walked our way.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Denise W. Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06124990384746123113noreply@blogger.com0