tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56700002946919113082024-02-07T18:04:59.894-08:00alohacollinschronicleUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-57965003120935786402011-10-01T20:01:00.000-07:002011-10-01T20:17:09.554-07:00Preparing to Launch<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSqF6BB1Lo0hoITBAfwEo-Er9ecHTuLE8bTm-PbKnfNwTGJ0UF2sW38u8h1USxH7X-WBsloZlpwI7X4KNHYLJQbFFFH5ZYU1ZBSHXHrEQ5mZV44f5_uYECvUpp959RsQvN1qYOXs_NeIGs/s1600/launch.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 331px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSqF6BB1Lo0hoITBAfwEo-Er9ecHTuLE8bTm-PbKnfNwTGJ0UF2sW38u8h1USxH7X-WBsloZlpwI7X4KNHYLJQbFFFH5ZYU1ZBSHXHrEQ5mZV44f5_uYECvUpp959RsQvN1qYOXs_NeIGs/s400/launch.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658727769645848002" /></a><br />Well, we made it to Houston. The A/C on the Honda went out sometime in California, which meant we crossed the Mojave Desert without air conditioning and with only one working window in the front. Memories, the stuff of life. It was so hot and desolate, we didn't bother looking to get it fixed until we reached Boerne, Texas. Our new home is quaint and quiet, and well, empty. One day we'll get furniture to fill the rooms (a big transition from 1000 square feet to 2300!). We are enjoying the call that God has for us here. Our children are enjoying the culture of Covenant Academy. If you'd like to learn more about our new school, check us out at <a href="http://www.covenantacademyhouston.org/">http://www.covenantacademyhouston.org</a>/ Most of my time is spent on writing, reading, studying, reviewing, talking, training and listening. When I'm not doing that, I'm cooking, cleaning, ironing and exercising. It's not an exciting life to some, but to me, this is why I'm on the planet. I hope to write again, but for now, if you want a view of island life from a couple who are seeking to live out the Gospel in their community, check out our daughter Laura's blog at: <a href="http://ahmowamasamat.blogspot.com/">http://ahmowamasamat.blogspot.com/</a><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-11135614338021284212011-05-08T20:56:00.000-07:002011-05-08T21:56:52.535-07:00Waterfalls of Gratitude<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7AKrsKPIFbdSv35SE0ImVBNjm1A5j3a0eLIvy9lYyo2v8BqHJaKsFkW-MfR2iYoRvsN_Pjw15om4Ipzl0ENa6VxhunMvWxxKND3axrRHkbZHTjU91x6HcK_yW-zFP3jKtqT-zxmxFeNB/s1600/oahu+waterfalls+3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604562699128442466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7AKrsKPIFbdSv35SE0ImVBNjm1A5j3a0eLIvy9lYyo2v8BqHJaKsFkW-MfR2iYoRvsN_Pjw15om4Ipzl0ENa6VxhunMvWxxKND3axrRHkbZHTjU91x6HcK_yW-zFP3jKtqT-zxmxFeNB/s400/oahu+waterfalls+3.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInkMn8SAI5V9jqpyK2d_jYEIFI5DafI9kagqmAPrH3mhyQuCq6FwCdsM8DYQSVfeBIAlBgVudwOHXWe3gPSNDEQErUx0AEYAfw32XSf0f-T0MmsizTW02ahCSbnO0qohQzazUqIo3yeXn/s1600/oahu+waterfalls.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 236px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604562694421772194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInkMn8SAI5V9jqpyK2d_jYEIFI5DafI9kagqmAPrH3mhyQuCq6FwCdsM8DYQSVfeBIAlBgVudwOHXWe3gPSNDEQErUx0AEYAfw32XSf0f-T0MmsizTW02ahCSbnO0qohQzazUqIo3yeXn/s400/oahu+waterfalls.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6kDAIXd0JCEoDIOo9CXeEIucFfj_dOvXbsnUksgJfhBLXxyIDvWnHHyMCVgK6HzirxkAWTHYnIqkdj1yi9KSjjvqdvJvYw5OPCIcc4x_kp8d4yGBf2D0ZqdDGV1ZOwJ2bLelQANrnFJe/s1600/oahu+waterfalls+2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 276px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 352px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604562695218595746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6kDAIXd0JCEoDIOo9CXeEIucFfj_dOvXbsnUksgJfhBLXxyIDvWnHHyMCVgK6HzirxkAWTHYnIqkdj1yi9KSjjvqdvJvYw5OPCIcc4x_kp8d4yGBf2D0ZqdDGV1ZOwJ2bLelQANrnFJe/s400/oahu+waterfalls+2.jpg" /></a><br /><br />When it rains, it pours on Oahu. When it rains, we look to the mountains if we can see them through the clouds. Hidden behind the fog are waterfalls, overflowing into streams. It is a glorious thing to behold and worth a drive on the highway just to get a glimpse. Those waterfalls are responses to the blessing of rain from above. In the same way, gratitude should be the response to the overflowing blessings in our lives. Like the rain, we may not see them clearly. But that rain is a gift. Like the mountains are shaped by the rain as it chisels through the stone of our hearts, so does God's grace teach us and shape us. The right response to God's work is gratitude: overflowing thanks for His goodness. In this way will others see His glory in our lives. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Today in church our son Jon was overcome with the idea of eternity and what it means to know God. He came to me to talk about it and said that he wanted to know what it actually means to know Christ. I shared with him this verse from Galatians 3:26, "You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ." I shared with Jon that Jesus didn't come just to be a good teacher, but to fulfill the Law of God because we could not. None of us can achieve God's holy standard, but Jesus did. I asked Jon if he felt that he was able to obey God perfectly. He knew he had not. We all sin and fall short of what God rightly requires of us. I related this to what it feels when he works in the field with Dad, he is covered in dirt from head to toe. I then shared that God, through Christ, has taken off Jon's dirty clothes, put them on Himself, worn them on the cross and now is offering Jon His Beautiful Priestly Robes to wear instead. I explained that this is what it means to be clothed in Christ. This is what it means to know Him, to be a Christian. He understood. He wanted this clothing. Tears were flowing from his eyes. I asked him why. He felt unworthy. It had been raining. I told him that the only thing that God wanted in return was a waterfall of gratitude from Jon's life. God rained down blessing on us through the love of His Son, all He wants in return is a waterfall of gratitude.<br /></div><br /><div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-41939635937806080562011-04-11T12:28:00.000-07:002011-04-11T22:51:01.580-07:00The Open Door<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnwETqfJwvFdoADkrKM_keWpxX6ZhVUkTljbt_66tRQg1qJGhRwbkdBLE42i9Mg1GZWUtZApn2CAIDCZTHY3iNCHs0BjHJV_CDShB1WbGYVzrAoVxoywb4mn6CXc4dtAEK-VmXs6Ct-kP9/s1600/rome-doors-1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 322px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594434974026310962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnwETqfJwvFdoADkrKM_keWpxX6ZhVUkTljbt_66tRQg1qJGhRwbkdBLE42i9Mg1GZWUtZApn2CAIDCZTHY3iNCHs0BjHJV_CDShB1WbGYVzrAoVxoywb4mn6CXc4dtAEK-VmXs6Ct-kP9/s400/rome-doors-1.jpg" /></a> <br /><div>" But I will stay on at Ephesus until Pentecost, because a great door for effective work has opened to me. " Paul at Corinth</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Now when I went to Troas to preach the gospel of Christ and found that the Lord had opened a door for me," Paul at Corinth</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ," Paul at Colosse</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Ever wonder how the Apostle Paul knew what to do next? Did he hear an audible voice from God or see a neon sign telling him where to preach and teach next? How did he know when his time in Corinth was completed? Paul spent two years in Corinth and his visit there was very productive. How did he know when it was time to go to the next town or, in his case, to the next continent? His method was pretty simple and it applies to us today: look for the open door. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We have felt that the door has closed for our time in Hawai'i. Though we love this island and its culture and its people, we are struggling to see how we can continue to provide for our remaining children . Our reason for coming here was twofold: 1. Help Laura get to a better climate and 2. help Trinity Christian School navigate the difficult transition from a traditional Christian school model to a Classical Christian School model. We feel that we've accomplished both of these goals. Laura is thriving and Trinity has overcome the biggest hurdle of transition, curriculum philosophy and development. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>When we came here, we could see in the future a need for a counseling ministry and a need for a ministry to Hawaiians to understand their own culture in light of the greatness of Christ, who gives meaning to culture and history. On Oahu there is a great need for affordable housing. We envisioned an opportunity to utilize the island's need for affordable housing to establish a ministry community so that all of these needs could be met in one location, if the Lord opened the door. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We could also see that while Laura had found her niche, our other three were struggling to find their way with both parents working SO very full time. Children in the teen and tween years need more structure and parental input, not less. Our full time hours, which were taking our focus away from our family, were enough to pay rent, but never a mortgage or a down payment for a house (a small house here is about 600 thousand and banks want 20% as a down payment! ). We began to ask ourselves if it was time to go. After all, what is more important than being available to our children? But what about our dreams for ministry? Funny as it is, Laura's passion is counseling, and Shawn's passion is teaching Hawaiian culture. Could it be that God was closing a door for our family but opening a door for Shawn and Laura? We decided to knock on doors and see what opened. In light of our desire to have our children in a classical school and live in an affordable location, Dave encouraged me to find a school where I could use my administrative gifts. I have interviewed with several and am about to make a second visit to a school in the Houston area to see if the Lord is opening up a door for us to use our gifts, love on our children and afford our own home. We're knocking. If the Lord opens up that door, we will go, right after Laura and Shawn's wedding. Please pray for us that God will make the door of His will open very wide so that we will know which way to go. Either way, we know that we cannot afford to stay here, we just don't know for sure where He is leading us next. We'll keep knocking. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The next question you will ask is: but what about Laura? Laura and Shawn are clearly called to minister here in Hawai'i. It's where they belong. And we see doors opening for them for the future, for housing and for ministry. We did not raise Laura to keep her, we raised her to send her out into the world to make a diffence. Laura and Shawn are eager to begin life together and make an impact. As for the specifics, they will pray and wait for the doors to open. </div><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-50697556675444630852011-04-04T00:11:00.000-07:002011-04-08T21:58:14.852-07:00Mother of the Bride<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1wOwIGKi_4vjezr_KBiH5hN3ObIXZW0CjeR3uIfQ3NdbEjfoqcJCYjMGoiYzKfcLlVp92a-AYLhgWPhjmFE0PIIkWF1VlzhvNQWAPLv0zRSif5XDhXAtF87BdtrS969zYixtKqcyQn_C7/s1600/fondant%252520wedding%252520cake%252520flowers.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593443553537345474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1wOwIGKi_4vjezr_KBiH5hN3ObIXZW0CjeR3uIfQ3NdbEjfoqcJCYjMGoiYzKfcLlVp92a-AYLhgWPhjmFE0PIIkWF1VlzhvNQWAPLv0zRSif5XDhXAtF87BdtrS969zYixtKqcyQn_C7/s400/fondant%252520wedding%252520cake%252520flowers.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><br /><div><br /><div>When Laura was a newborn I wanted time to stop all together to savor every second of her newborn sneezes and grunts and wiggles. As she grew, I came to accept that life would keep going, she would keep getting older. And then 3 more precious children came. Our house was full of kids and toys and giggles and stomping feet. When she was twelve years old, I had a friend sketch the four of them so that I could freeze that moment of their childhood forever. It was such a special time. I distinctly remember beginning to mourn the loss of my motherhood when Jonathan stopped using his pacifier. I began to treasure every moment of watching my children grow; intensely aware that this would not last. One morning as I brushed her hair, I remember wondering what it would be like when she was old enough to get married. And then it hit me: what would I be like? Would I be an emotional wreck? Would I want to plan her wedding so that it fit my tastes, would I like her future husband?</div><br /><div>A few weeks ago I waited outside the dressing room as Laura tried on her wedding dress for her final fitting. No violins playing in the background to set the mood, no soft lighting, just a dressing room in a busy store. But Laura was beautiful. Every dress she tried on looked fabulous because she is tall and slender. This was the dress that she wanted, the dress that she will wear through the entryway of her next journey. And how did I feel? Did I want her to wear a dress that looked like the one I wore? Surprisingly, I didn't. I wanted her to have what she wanted. I really didn't have an opinon as long as she was happy. People have asked me what it's like to be the mother of the bride. To be honest, it's a great honor and privilege to watch her making wise decisions and seeking the Lord's guidance in every detail of her wedding. It's been that way all along in her relationship with Shawn. Laura and Shawn have sought to honor their parents and the Lord in every step of their relationship. They want desperately to do one thing: live in such a way as to make an impact on others. And I think they will, they've already had an impact on me.</div><br /><div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-82720569545240200362011-03-13T23:43:00.000-07:002011-03-13T21:01:23.017-07:00Not by Bread Alone<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNclR7QXxpmtW4a9bQQWQcbVjN6rNvX3OqULNWgwVfy9uwonYQPu0WjksNbS9xsO_4YmAxvSTMwzv-f_OKEsKhH5X4tOG1eysUqe4v-sy7K9cMsi8Kx_ap_pFPRuFwXTQbi8vL9x1G-orZ/s1600/sage-angel-bread.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 257px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583779711803931346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNclR7QXxpmtW4a9bQQWQcbVjN6rNvX3OqULNWgwVfy9uwonYQPu0WjksNbS9xsO_4YmAxvSTMwzv-f_OKEsKhH5X4tOG1eysUqe4v-sy7K9cMsi8Kx_ap_pFPRuFwXTQbi8vL9x1G-orZ/s400/sage-angel-bread.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God." </span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Matthew 4:4</span></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>That's a fascinating statement from the One who called Himself the Bread of life. Note the phrase by "bread alone." The idea here is that bread, by itself, cannot give us the full picture of God's presence with us. We have heard that statement so many times that it loses its stunning reality. Bread communicated presence to the Israelites. Bread was the means by which God communicated to the Israelites that they were not, in fact, alone. Bread was a physical symbol of the presence of God. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>God was with Israel. He chose them, made them His beloved people, rescued them from slavery and made them into a great nation. They were a most insignificant of people, but He was with them and His presence made them great. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>In Egypt, He called Moses and instructed him to make a Passover feast, with bread.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>In the wilderness, He fed them with manna.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>In the tabernacle, He instructed them to keep a Bread of the Presence on the table.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>In the temple, He instructed them to have a Bread of the Presence on the table.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>And then the Bread of the Presence, Emmanuel, came. He was God with us. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.” </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>There is a profound truth in a simple loaf of bread: God is with us. He, who will make His own kingdom grow like leaven in a loaf, has broken the reign of sin in our lives. He who embraced Israel and led that nation embraces and leads us. He who understood their need for signs and symbols instructing them to keep feasts and celebrations understands our needs and instructs us in the Lord's Supper. He who said, "take and eat"...also said "this is My body." His sacrifice on our behalf was not happenstance, it was planned and calculated. He understood our great need for redemption and intercession. He was our high priest. The priest that offered up His own life as a sacrifice. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>"Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great high priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful."</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>He who promised is faithful. We are not alone. God is with us. Take and eat. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-87079153264543510532011-03-12T12:17:00.000-08:002011-03-14T10:08:09.691-07:00Saturday Morning Hike<div align="left"><strong><br /></div></strong><div align="left"><strong>Another Good Book Ya Gotta Read...<br /></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSSdAghUX2mls1sryChSfuaz8LQCcZvIiDu5EC_Ccy7v4yOI7gWS2PqeP0fLhL5AcF8GcrutFz-fGL5rrWirRING8NV21C6-X3K6283qWBo1PmrwOhgYc3wkQPxsLtWVJjsL1SMlnqg1VE/s1600/41ZCY16zUQL__BO2%252C204%252C203%252C200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click%252CTopRight%252C35%252C-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg"></a><br />I just finished reading another excellent book by Paul Tripp. Regardless of your age, it's well worth the read. He writes compassionately and honestly and offers both encouragement and challenges to those who are in their middle years, doing what we all do at this time: evaluating our harvest. Here is an excerpt:</div><div align="left"><br />"As you stand at the center of this midlife moment, what do you see? What do you hear? If all you see is disappointment and loss, if all you hear are the sad songs of what once was or what could have been, then you need to listen again. Within your loss there is a God of amazing grace to see, and woven together with your sad songs you can hear the celebratory music of redemptive grace. The note of disappointment , regret, weakness, decay, defeat, restoration, reconciliation and sight are not parts of another song. They are each a part of God's symphony of grace and redemption."</div><div align="left"><br /><br />I bought this book because I knew it would be challenging and perfectly geared to this time in my life. But, I'm not at all unhappy with my life. No regrets. Life is hard and I've had my share of hard knocks, but God is so good. Once again, Paul Tripp challenged me to grab each moment of life with redemptive hands.<br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 199px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583402280933041650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWJa9iUghzzM6nbih6uvRRfo-KOzTV2KyEH7A5cGXGZpnqjMQc0wcRqtqWBoXTbVUeK9V4IbqQrO8V5lsYtx8xvyn1a4qbD33Evf0mnhxZun8rzuiI5i0x9NdB0n726lNVHj5jy9OoCZoo/s400/41ZCY16zUQL__BO2%252C204%252C203%252C200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click%252CTopRight%252C35%252C-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Saturday morning hike.</span> </strong></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_8fkyyG1IzAKTH-WcsH9bGWhG-rnn0Mj-lFtqTv9d7aNAy_sGTI4gZR_DU1CGXF69_06UgY3uekehn44f0gEc6uN6pLArqSQEuciNA47TMBF8eQUde1JehTrkLcJiRyyeaUCTYHTRgXy5/s1600/DSC_1300.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583298148174508818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_8fkyyG1IzAKTH-WcsH9bGWhG-rnn0Mj-lFtqTv9d7aNAy_sGTI4gZR_DU1CGXF69_06UgY3uekehn44f0gEc6uN6pLArqSQEuciNA47TMBF8eQUde1JehTrkLcJiRyyeaUCTYHTRgXy5/s400/DSC_1300.JPG" /></a><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn7cueFFsapeu4xd1Y9kl9LBH1CjU9hYubcI_YgY1pIO83DhkBLvRSjHapW1jfGf8fSzZ7AkhPUtTZIaFCRw3MoExJGRwvYgUzH0jlP6plBt3z5KHpW9_H30t3pZEUNZIjYYOMabDkMCM2/s1600/DSC_1250.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583298145175155666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn7cueFFsapeu4xd1Y9kl9LBH1CjU9hYubcI_YgY1pIO83DhkBLvRSjHapW1jfGf8fSzZ7AkhPUtTZIaFCRw3MoExJGRwvYgUzH0jlP6plBt3z5KHpW9_H30t3pZEUNZIjYYOMabDkMCM2/s400/DSC_1250.JPG" /></a><br />The Lanikai mokes.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQlvKdWEXg5zCgGa9SH4-QGeXtw_hWNV9-nWBCSe89gXjpBv_T56S2LuYrIxI5uIDpCh_i_2wfoHGYE_Q_gq5sovk4a5JvUQSuHQ_VakUTWj8C_R5NzDJs2nvyVAOR69GLEroKdZYhK3o/s1600/DSC_1255.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583297230452898082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQlvKdWEXg5zCgGa9SH4-QGeXtw_hWNV9-nWBCSe89gXjpBv_T56S2LuYrIxI5uIDpCh_i_2wfoHGYE_Q_gq5sovk4a5JvUQSuHQ_VakUTWj8C_R5NzDJs2nvyVAOR69GLEroKdZYhK3o/s400/DSC_1255.JPG" /></a><br />In the distance on the right is the lighthouse where we took our last hike.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcFylYX1e5f3RDwlnlOacarXXlMmEhzWCe9eMuGtstr9sCI1zqY1208LY9yt2NYkVv56guTsQUXc15ZNO8hNxEG-8Rbtg2XWJQpB_Txc_QF3Jt08r4sdTEktBzubqBF2U20id1mQK4syJ4/s1600/DSC_1268.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583297222148010946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcFylYX1e5f3RDwlnlOacarXXlMmEhzWCe9eMuGtstr9sCI1zqY1208LY9yt2NYkVv56guTsQUXc15ZNO8hNxEG-8Rbtg2XWJQpB_Txc_QF3Jt08r4sdTEktBzubqBF2U20id1mQK4syJ4/s400/DSC_1268.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6eItUH8lnmQXRpzOjZblUqvh35xGiOvixIbgWWqU2FlZfeHfaFbLBLqDIIraKbvi7h1tTJHrmBA2cdu5RLGuBH_0C4RaRLO_0sjGvwmeAWJHftfF6NMS8oirYyHbz3osndRzmEYjyYoz8/s1600/DSC_1299.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583297213689702738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6eItUH8lnmQXRpzOjZblUqvh35xGiOvixIbgWWqU2FlZfeHfaFbLBLqDIIraKbvi7h1tTJHrmBA2cdu5RLGuBH_0C4RaRLO_0sjGvwmeAWJHftfF6NMS8oirYyHbz3osndRzmEYjyYoz8/s400/DSC_1299.JPG" /></a> Island Adventurers!</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-71858830817268720392011-03-06T22:17:00.001-08:002011-03-06T22:50:01.579-08:00Sunday Hike<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnUNoGfXpAx4k2zA7gxBqY3tTpYHG-JM0mlbyXEth_4rIy2xsh4dGkQvw-0V6fl-CX6V87NCuoTB_x0ZGuNDt3cqeQyreksJD2ZkD2fowxxkPqlIC4fsBXUYipxANEpFetZ1C_n9FAY9jA/s1600/DSC_0524.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581225927613875554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnUNoGfXpAx4k2zA7gxBqY3tTpYHG-JM0mlbyXEth_4rIy2xsh4dGkQvw-0V6fl-CX6V87NCuoTB_x0ZGuNDt3cqeQyreksJD2ZkD2fowxxkPqlIC4fsBXUYipxANEpFetZ1C_n9FAY9jA/s400/DSC_0524.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSP359VHBs3D4h2d8yO9lGbnxIXz04LdZEIOgh-QCYJ9QpDtcNrM3in26SCDHwenDtcCv53z4hdi84BnL195nQkDjv7BIPlaFYwRHqoEt490VwfE9WMFG4I81bNO5HBeOPIX81ztvEyOqL/s1600/DSC_0518.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581224781297936306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSP359VHBs3D4h2d8yO9lGbnxIXz04LdZEIOgh-QCYJ9QpDtcNrM3in26SCDHwenDtcCv53z4hdi84BnL195nQkDjv7BIPlaFYwRHqoEt490VwfE9WMFG4I81bNO5HBeOPIX81ztvEyOqL/s400/DSC_0518.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmGxafF1io8MneO_xMY3H7wcyJfduCCFN22t2vHtCDwfYZAqMWAm1IQIDtq0qtFb0f_Wxz2Nj39wMPNHOMu7yVTRxD9aB_yqtE8gQHoi49sueDyn99S3J6WTQrRej59LuP-61X_iPOkgMC/s1600/DSC_0555.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581222956694580674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmGxafF1io8MneO_xMY3H7wcyJfduCCFN22t2vHtCDwfYZAqMWAm1IQIDtq0qtFb0f_Wxz2Nj39wMPNHOMu7yVTRxD9aB_yqtE8gQHoi49sueDyn99S3J6WTQrRej59LuP-61X_iPOkgMC/s400/DSC_0555.JPG" /></a> Look out below!<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ViMFl0QNafjVPB-69SKeQGJszMKFc4nOadglbyr1zv9A4NqIzER8pmoL-4jQXa2B3_BwZMzwEwc4__1rsojjpDkCTJiYLovp4ca77MqLFS6cb2eGLVxt6SAI7JWAHy4gdM7_PY7mkFJ8/s1600/DSC_0998.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581221605500504658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ViMFl0QNafjVPB-69SKeQGJszMKFc4nOadglbyr1zv9A4NqIzER8pmoL-4jQXa2B3_BwZMzwEwc4__1rsojjpDkCTJiYLovp4ca77MqLFS6cb2eGLVxt6SAI7JWAHy4gdM7_PY7mkFJ8/s400/DSC_0998.JPG" /></a> The view from the top of our hike.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwc4MLKHeSqR4OV4TEEzEOYi4dVVdAGNGLs74_KRcsTkWwAnQzksZpPEyRg1K6ijIjGCNbJ_J3kAJPluLe54bf4gDtwJ6D52pwVfS9ZHUDof3jgrbWsz5FT-NoMEFHD1sEWitrX1EVRRn/s1600/DSC_1005.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581220886908284018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTwc4MLKHeSqR4OV4TEEzEOYi4dVVdAGNGLs74_KRcsTkWwAnQzksZpPEyRg1K6ijIjGCNbJ_J3kAJPluLe54bf4gDtwJ6D52pwVfS9ZHUDof3jgrbWsz5FT-NoMEFHD1sEWitrX1EVRRn/s400/DSC_1005.JPG" /></a> Not a starfish, a plant that grows along the trails.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj6jePvs7Ho-ZjldpZ9hPKkEwzRbU1b1AVdI9fQTXbSqsFzseFA3Qd7U6vtVwzJPhoe7Kyi4lPTJvoL3JXOh62Dl7HPJD8Iaj2femC1jayzC-9qNSXZ-nvdNtwdUDRkKnxRy-W13mGvGkJ/s1600/DSC_1020.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581219825931397634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj6jePvs7Ho-ZjldpZ9hPKkEwzRbU1b1AVdI9fQTXbSqsFzseFA3Qd7U6vtVwzJPhoe7Kyi4lPTJvoL3JXOh62Dl7HPJD8Iaj2femC1jayzC-9qNSXZ-nvdNtwdUDRkKnxRy-W13mGvGkJ/s400/DSC_1020.JPG" /></a> Can you see the whale? They come to Hawai'i to birth their young at this time of year.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMt0U0L7hvTVZdmGu4WrAFW2sX_D2q7CdhEyiMHwoxl1vnHMbrpmu5G4b5EHHuHi-y5sSnBEPyAbrTVNjZhQoEpharMt8cK9tPwxxK9F8eTh9Ez6OVs_OX3WVVThSVve7aqQHgSORm3ADB/s1600/DSC_1023.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581218740131221442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMt0U0L7hvTVZdmGu4WrAFW2sX_D2q7CdhEyiMHwoxl1vnHMbrpmu5G4b5EHHuHi-y5sSnBEPyAbrTVNjZhQoEpharMt8cK9tPwxxK9F8eTh9Ez6OVs_OX3WVVThSVve7aqQHgSORm3ADB/s400/DSC_1023.JPG" /></a><br /><br />As we ascend the trail, we see this lovely valley.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-474637267545324492011-03-06T20:05:00.000-08:002011-03-06T21:31:48.909-08:00thy will be done, a supposal<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNXzWt3Pzex-ubnh3OXC18duzTFDb1fNWjhneMMWtGbNWywTQNF_zC0dtQQ42yVdALUSXZhhGMYiB0ff1Y3KfK6KnUpJBiTygGgkkmgZdthblTgHWV2lFWiNXMug-x1Y46J6sLqrxBStm/s1600/DSC_0543.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581204621918959138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNXzWt3Pzex-ubnh3OXC18duzTFDb1fNWjhneMMWtGbNWywTQNF_zC0dtQQ42yVdALUSXZhhGMYiB0ff1Y3KfK6KnUpJBiTygGgkkmgZdthblTgHWV2lFWiNXMug-x1Y46J6sLqrxBStm/s400/DSC_0543.JPG" /></a><br /><div>I'm sitting in the subway station. There's been a terrible accident. All the lights are off and it is completely silent. My i-phone won't light up but, fortunately, I can still text in the dark. If you receive this message, please call 911 and tell them to find me. I'm somewhere under New York City in the subway station. I don't know exactly where because I got into an annoying conversation with a woman at 5th and Madison. She was a Christian. They drive me crazy. She sat next to me and smiled, that smug little smile. She was reading C.S. Lewis, the atheist who lost his nerve. I asked her if she was a Christian. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Yes, I am. Are you?" </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"No, religion is a crutch. I want to face reality on my own," I told her.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Funny," she said,"that's what this author used to think." </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Yeah, I know, he got conned." She needed to hear the truth, poor girl.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Actually, no. He fought it for years but gave in to reason. He came to faith because he had no other rational choice. He realized that he had spent his life either being mad at God for not being there or mad at God FOR being there. The crux of it all was that he was mad at God because God was real."</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"No, it's a wish. We're just a cosmic accident and you're too chicken to accept it."</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"No, THAT'S a wish. You do realize that it's easier to believe that we're an accident, and not responsible for anything, right? THAT's the cop-out, not Christianity. And you do realize that there aren't enough numbers to describe the odds of creating a universe like ours by accident, right? "</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Ludicrous," I told her. "Christianity is a farce. A story made up by frightened disciples."</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Really? Then where's the body?" </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"The what?"</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"The body. If it was a story, it could have easily been quieted by showing the body, something the Romans would have loved to do. The Roman Empire searched far and wide for that body, but they couldn't find it...Why? What if He really did rise from the dead and ascend to Heaven?"</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"What? You've got to be kidding."</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Think about it. The Romans were invincible, they could have stopped the Christians...why didn't they? And those frightened disciples became emboldened and wisened and were also put to death...yet they were unafraid. One of Lewis' friends challenged him with this question: What if it really happened? Then what?"</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Well, I don't know. I don't believe in that Heaven and Hell stuff...just a bunch of morality and fear in my opinon."</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Well, if God is real and all good, then the place where He is is going to be all good. That sounds like Heaven to me. And if He is all good, then the place where He isn't, is going to be awful. That sounds like Hell. C.S. Lewis described Heaven as a place where all the inhabitants declare to God THY will be done whereas Hell is a place where God says to the inhabitants, thy will be done. What if God is real and He wanted to give you a choice about knowing Him. What if Heaven is the better choice and Hell is the choice where you get to have it your way, eternity without Him. That's not a moral prod, it's a relationship choice. Have you ever read the Old Testament?"</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"You mean the New Testament, right, the one about Christ."</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"No, you should read the Old Testament. The entire Old Testament contains thousands of clues that Jesus Christ is the coming Messiah. These clues are what turned those frightened disciples into daring men of faith. If you read, for instance, Psalm 22 it would frighten the living daylights out of you."</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Why?" </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Because it refers to the death of Christ, by crucifixion almost a thousand years before He came and before the Romans invented that form of death. Is that an accident? I don't think so. It's the solution to the mystery before the mystery is even understood. Personally, I think that Christianity is real and you're too chicken to admit it." </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Ahh, turning the tables. Very clever."</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Perhaps. Or perhaps it's true. You really should do some soul searching my friend. May God bless you and reveal Himself to you. Have a nice day." Then she gathered her things and got off at the next stop.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Soul searching my foot. That woman was blind. She's the one with the problem not me.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Right then all Hell broke loose on the train. It crashed suddenly, I think it collided with another one. The roof caved in. Everyone was screaming, lights were flashing, people were crying, praying, and running until the darkness came. Darkness. That's all I've seen. I suppose all the other people are dead. It's wierd, I can't find a soul, can't smell a thing, or even hear anything but my own thoughts. It's lucky I have my phone, even though it doesn't work. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Wait a minute. I think I hear something. I think I see something, too. I'm walking in the tunnel of darkness here. I suppose any second I'll trip on a dead body. I seem to hear faint voices and see a faint light...I've been walking for what seems like an eternity now. The light is closer, it's hurting my eyes. I can hear the voices...they're...singing. And the light...it's peaking through some cracks the way sun rays peak through rain clouds. I'm getting closer. I can see the cracks. Wait, they're letters...something has been carved in the floor of my ceiling...it says..."thy will be done." </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-48304712093811591542011-03-03T21:16:00.000-08:002011-03-03T22:36:26.344-08:00Visions of Heaven<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirn8djFBPDk8-ReramblDsAzHf236vuIEFkGbSCF8OKHEmKDq2seZaUsjRSw5huoyqZFLahJHBOufNfXabXa3ZpOTxP_GusOHxkAxysvCqiLJE0dsGMfikT5lyGzW_zRhv-1fNvNkynwQN/s1600/DSC_0313.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580109022757631746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirn8djFBPDk8-ReramblDsAzHf236vuIEFkGbSCF8OKHEmKDq2seZaUsjRSw5huoyqZFLahJHBOufNfXabXa3ZpOTxP_GusOHxkAxysvCqiLJE0dsGMfikT5lyGzW_zRhv-1fNvNkynwQN/s400/DSC_0313.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphHuXO-mZQ2vGdHqKFaczqmL1fzmyMdO4rWnr_VBTaFDJSf6WS0kQjhZnrrY-fjs-VqMn-bAVTn0TJc_VN1QxoScankByZD14u2gwGYvzv4qvVGSMNOGuYfBIuaMM-I-wA7qe_jzaHksj/s1600/DSC_0352.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580107867844789938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphHuXO-mZQ2vGdHqKFaczqmL1fzmyMdO4rWnr_VBTaFDJSf6WS0kQjhZnrrY-fjs-VqMn-bAVTn0TJc_VN1QxoScankByZD14u2gwGYvzv4qvVGSMNOGuYfBIuaMM-I-wA7qe_jzaHksj/s400/DSC_0352.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLq3G2F4Gk2iNJAJVBX1Q8kc7u4GCHEwZb1rIOKuBocaJun2rb7iITsM_z6zcupGS7brACaXnsshJYt_y4n9Yl-mTjmrnEb6x7FuSvOQjBN9dI8QCHV3vshv-EA-ULShLHYsYG-BEY2jON/s1600/DSC_0405.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580107285071430354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLq3G2F4Gk2iNJAJVBX1Q8kc7u4GCHEwZb1rIOKuBocaJun2rb7iITsM_z6zcupGS7brACaXnsshJYt_y4n9Yl-mTjmrnEb6x7FuSvOQjBN9dI8QCHV3vshv-EA-ULShLHYsYG-BEY2jON/s400/DSC_0405.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqU9qbKfnZC7DsXuiYlv-J5gPnpdFmPjUkl90KgE8QIDnFjaZc6KnuMO15M4dfCkKOsIPYMz0va7guf549EqGjXaVhrCA-vhs0EAQmszZbIpgpZRPlzBDdroff434IRmSfbKtkVwdotAWG/s1600/DSC_0353.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580106550070692802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqU9qbKfnZC7DsXuiYlv-J5gPnpdFmPjUkl90KgE8QIDnFjaZc6KnuMO15M4dfCkKOsIPYMz0va7guf549EqGjXaVhrCA-vhs0EAQmszZbIpgpZRPlzBDdroff434IRmSfbKtkVwdotAWG/s400/DSC_0353.JPG" /></a><br /><div><div>When my mom had a heart attack many years ago, I remember sitting in the waiting room, talking with my aunt and realizing that I knew every word she was about to say. I had had this conversation before. I remembered waking up one morning and being very confused about the grey interior of the room, the seriousness of the situation and why I was talking to my aunt. Weird.</div><br /><br /><div>That's happened to me again and again: De ja vu. Some believe that it means that we have lived more than one life and we are cycling again and again through it, so we remember the event in the next life. I don't buy that. Some say that it's a chemical reaction that makes us believe that we had that experience before when in reality we haven't. I don't buy that either. These visions are about very specific events, conversations, and details that could never be predicted and have no associations. I am not looking for them. I am often in the middle of something and am surprised to find that I know the next thing that's going to happen because I had dreamed a small portion of it earlier. Sometimes I will wake up and think, "Where in the world did that come from? I've never been to that person's house, country, etc." Strange, really. If you're reading this, you either understand what I'm talking about or you think I'm losing it. You are either clairvoyant or you are not. I wonder if this is what people mean when they say, "The Lord spoke to me in a dream..."</div><br /><br /><div>Several years ago I had a dream that I was dancing in a tropical kind of place and there was a mirror with a fancy dress, a tacky scarf, an oversized handbag. Weird. Many years have passed since then. Last month, on a Tuesday afternoon, I went to my Zumba class at the YMCA and ended up in the back row. It was crowded. I didn't mind. In the back row, you can see the palm trees and the mountains through the windows. A little Hawai'i, a little salsa, and loud music. Just right. And then I turned to the left. There it was: the dress, the scarf, the bag, hanging on the mirror because my Zumba friend didn't want to put it in her locker. Though I never gave the dream another thought after that first morning, I instantly remembered waking up in my bedroom in Maryland wondering what in the world that was all about ( I never would have worn that dress with that scarf, I had never been to a tropical place). I remembered being confused and brushing it off as I sipped my morning tea. And there I was that Tuesday, several years later, in a place I never expected to be, being reminded that God knew the plans He had for me before I was born. </div><br /><div>I don't think those visions are a chemical reaction. I think they are visions from Heaven from a loving Father reminding me that He is with me and in me, before me, behind me. My Zumba instructor is very good because right before the music changes, she tells us the next move so we know what to do. I think that's what those visions are about: God is telling me that life is coming around the corner, don't forget the next move: Trust in Him. He has a plan. </div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-8875276040666402011-03-01T22:59:00.000-08:002011-03-02T00:03:40.539-08:00Redemption<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UEfDNnxxM3ml_z9Y483rXzlVZ5YvIKEujtFiGyguaxSvLF7T5ngS4wMdo-juvLmlchuMtKHAdfJb0nMYYO5Huzor5p9Cfkk5m1kugdZz3fN3d9_MBfku1ijLFAuhXw7Z9X-Vh7pyh8En/s1600/DSC_0457.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579383073105037234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UEfDNnxxM3ml_z9Y483rXzlVZ5YvIKEujtFiGyguaxSvLF7T5ngS4wMdo-juvLmlchuMtKHAdfJb0nMYYO5Huzor5p9Cfkk5m1kugdZz3fN3d9_MBfku1ijLFAuhXw7Z9X-Vh7pyh8En/s400/DSC_0457.JPG" /></a> Sometimes in relationships, we see the wrong side of each other.<br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATH1N_6a_m5yuIUPXtzZvZUX_bs2ASYeQd1zM0rdQZv-RtRD5YuC_jW2cr64L8v650O7sZ9sBZxveSG3a0sB9qlzgE5p2j_784Ou9B9oV9joy2wfkKUR0GRCf2bw99G49qWFdJ-Z28RYY/s1600/DSC_0471.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579381969303303154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATH1N_6a_m5yuIUPXtzZvZUX_bs2ASYeQd1zM0rdQZv-RtRD5YuC_jW2cr64L8v650O7sZ9sBZxveSG3a0sB9qlzgE5p2j_784Ou9B9oV9joy2wfkKUR0GRCf2bw99G49qWFdJ-Z28RYY/s400/DSC_0471.JPG" /></a> Redemption is about turning over a new leaf.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhag6AigM3Jfo8RMXZPCKgx9J8Hp25UBP3yyMW-Ys3E1YO4tsebWBFMKvFHLqm4o4McvM1u-cZTY-09cuJyc75McHaQR3-A5t-c7zaMHK7vFAPEirn_blboe3r36k8Rm_bkiFtYGClhxbkF/s1600/DSC_0408.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579380623989542402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhag6AigM3Jfo8RMXZPCKgx9J8Hp25UBP3yyMW-Ys3E1YO4tsebWBFMKvFHLqm4o4McvM1u-cZTY-09cuJyc75McHaQR3-A5t-c7zaMHK7vFAPEirn_blboe3r36k8Rm_bkiFtYGClhxbkF/s400/DSC_0408.JPG" /></a> Jon found this shell on our cross country drive. Shawn made it into a necklace.<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7C5Dwc2QQyqDRDpBIDTvkh_4BME9QgY9FKN4Q8oCysrzAaDDqnvB8B4fg6ha1FwNU02jr1EtHlIxQSmex_XqJ6UXPzAs7o2gHfqT8wwnvCHp3Ex33PrdkuViMZxhYY3TcWtmdKtU2rZTc/s1600/DSC_0477.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579380119535340098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7C5Dwc2QQyqDRDpBIDTvkh_4BME9QgY9FKN4Q8oCysrzAaDDqnvB8B4fg6ha1FwNU02jr1EtHlIxQSmex_XqJ6UXPzAs7o2gHfqT8wwnvCHp3Ex33PrdkuViMZxhYY3TcWtmdKtU2rZTc/s400/DSC_0477.JPG" /></a> Dave and Daniel rest after a 4 hour hike in the mountains.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579378499733667442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYxl_yWJwkDG0lUZmkj4b9N1gTTbCk2XMDm0dNwRVEvSMlSqRLa1KaWGr40xLfmJdVjW-OkmDUJj_oGUo65D6NMSfuotZPcd4IHyeBxa2qB2NQa2M7v3NMBSWST1oRebDkwsoeNnt1ffPy/s400/DSC_0415.JPG" /><br /><br />The spiral is the shape of galaxies, shells and this unfolding fern.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXdQngG62-0vNVMLwBZslyNq-22GlK1bQX4tCyptnD8xfwaTwm_2NxOoRTKdFxAn1j4CkLl7mDK8KMGSgariwyCfIidXNgE5FVcyLfTXal8TN-B2b2R28wXn1kAoJBThLt4ycVbc6O_TzT/s1600/DSC_0365.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579377912490362338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXdQngG62-0vNVMLwBZslyNq-22GlK1bQX4tCyptnD8xfwaTwm_2NxOoRTKdFxAn1j4CkLl7mDK8KMGSgariwyCfIidXNgE5FVcyLfTXal8TN-B2b2R28wXn1kAoJBThLt4ycVbc6O_TzT/s400/DSC_0365.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div align="left">So much of life feels like an interruption to what we'd rather be doing. I'd rather be gardening or cooking but instead the Lord has called me to write chants and grade papers. In the midst of the myriad of tasks, at the most critical moments, I am often interrupted by conflict. Perhaps it was a careless word, a careless glance, or a careless error but nonetheless, it falls upon me to intervene. Someone has been hurt. Someone has hurt them. What do I do? It's at these pivotal moments where we are the most useful to the actual purpose of our lives; redemption. We think that our purpose is found in our pursuits and our pleasures, but in reality, our purpose is to bring redemption to hurting souls. The interruptions are not interruptions at all, they are the actual purpose of our lives. The children on the playground, the kids in the backyard, they all need to be redeemed from the hurt of conflict, the pain of harsh words. At the point that I choose to focus on them instead of the papers, dishes or plants in my hands, I am actually choosing to be uninterrupted from my purpose. The time of teaching our children how to listen to one another, how to own their mistakes and how to forgive is worth every second. Life is short, not a second to lose. I'm often tempted to ignore the problem or worse, to tell them to be quiet so I can do my work, but that is not the right response. At the moment when a relationship needs mending, THAT is my work. It is not an interruption. I must choose to help them work through it graciously and lovingly. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Today, one of my students was making a priority out of distracting others while I was teaching them about the Persian Wars. I asked to speak to him in the hall. Our conversation went like this:</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"What were you doing?"</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"I was talking." </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Are you supposed to be talking?"</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"I was talking to myself." </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Yes, but the three other boys next to you heard you and were distracted and told you so. Are you supposed to be distracting others?"</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"No, but I was talking to myself." </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"The boys next to you did not feel that you were talking to yourself, they thought you were talking to them. This looks an awful lot like you got caught talking to them and are afraid of getting in trouble.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Child bursts into tears...</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">I placed my hand on his shoulder and looked into his teary brown eyes, "Are you crying because I'm right, or because I'm wrong?"</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Sobbing, "Because you're right!" </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">At this point, I bent over and got face to face, "And do you know that this disobedience and covering up with excuses is the very reason that Jesus died for you?"</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Sob, sob, sob.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Would you like to thank Him now?"</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Yes, Dear Jesus, Thank you. I'm sorry." </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Amen." We hugged. "Feel better now?" </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Yes."</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">"Let's go back to class." </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">So-called Interruption: 5 minutes</div><div align="left">Cost of redemption: Priceless</div></div><br /></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-34188678147941337042011-02-13T22:22:00.000-08:002011-02-13T23:08:50.548-08:00Pie in the Sky<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBXm0pogm4smQ9hekrFldWL3DKINC0MTfoyWsqoJ4KGiTS2ZR646SoLyIlKx45brrBmnVwNDpWUDF0AhRfnCPlGycWbMHKf-w1ihLIaO9Y6XQfm00dW9YXiB-h_xDD9QklSwlA_uwaFGC7/s1600/Trinity+Pics+from+dad%2527s+SDHC+card+4GB...+house+and+pillboxes+etc+001.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573438575517527650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBXm0pogm4smQ9hekrFldWL3DKINC0MTfoyWsqoJ4KGiTS2ZR646SoLyIlKx45brrBmnVwNDpWUDF0AhRfnCPlGycWbMHKf-w1ihLIaO9Y6XQfm00dW9YXiB-h_xDD9QklSwlA_uwaFGC7/s400/Trinity+Pics+from+dad%2527s+SDHC+card+4GB...+house+and+pillboxes+etc+001.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Objective: The teacher will write objectives that are observable and measurable before beginning instruction.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Education is pie in the sky if we don't do our jobs right. The process of passing down the legacy of learning and thinking is one where we literally make the intangible tangible. We are taking ideas, thoughts and concepts and placing them into the minds of our students through words, songs, discussions and lessons. This process becomes muddled when the people involved become distracted and disillusioned. Parents become distracted by test scores, students are disillusioned by edutainment, teachers are often distracted by the very task of teaching itself. Often the very nature of teaching leads us to fill time instead of using it. We have books, materials, resources but one thing we often lack: objectives. Observable and measurable objectives often seem to nag us into figuring out what it is we're trying to do the way a mother scolds her children to clean up after themselves. They nag, but yet they are needed. Unless our objectives can be seen, as in "list the wars that the Greeks had among themselves," they will never be accomplished. To seek to accomplish the goal to "understand that the Greeks had many wars," is nebulous and unattainable. I cannot know whether my students understand anything by asking them if they understand and why waste time with "many" when they can know the names themselves! This seems like semantics and nit picking, but when it comes to the education of young minds, I think the nit picking is worth it. I must accomplish my goals. They must be goals that can be accomplished in the first place. And because I am not omniscient, I must be able to observe and measure those goals and objectives. Otherwise, I'm filling up time reading a bunch of books, singing and bunch of songs and teaching nebulous lessons. Just pie in the sky. </div><br /><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-80078574097295185832011-02-07T21:21:00.000-08:002011-02-07T22:00:08.505-08:00Hiking Without Fear<div align="center">"Fear of man will prove to be a snare, but whoever trusts in the LORD is kept safe." </div><div align="center">Proverbs 29:25 </div><div align="center"> </div>Life is hard. It is a challenging and often painful journey. I've been reflecting on that a lot lately. Laura and I have recently finished a class with the Christian Counseling and Education Foundation that has challenged both of us to examine ourselves more closely. Each of us was required to complete a self-counseling project where we walked ourselves through areas in our lives where we felt we needed to grow in our faith and dependence on the Lord. We both chose projects that forced us to deal with fear of man. Solomon taught that fear of man is a trap, whereas fear of God leads to freedom and peace. My struggle in life is that I care about what people think of me. It's a tricky thing to want to have a good reputation. On the one hand, the Bible teaches that if we don't have a good reputation, we shouldn't be in leadership. On the other hand, if we are ruled by our desire for a good reputation, it becomes a trap.<br /><br />Life is a journey. Walking that journey with the balanced perspective of fear of the Lord instead of fear of man is the key to keep from stumbling. During various phases in my self-counseling project I encountered stumbling blocks where my perspective was completely skewed by what others might say or do. At other times I was completely aware of others but unconcerned because my focus was on honoring the Lord. My eyes were fixed on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of my faith. It was in those times that I felt most free. I confess that I wasn't a big fan of hiking in Maryland. Ticks bother me. Snakes scare me. Both cross the hiking trail. But hiking in Hawai'i is fun. There are no snakes and no ticks! I am not afraid that while I'm hiking a giant snake will cross my path (yes, it's happened to me!) and a tiny tick won't ruin my health (yes, that's happened to my daughter). Imagine if I could walk the journey of life as if I'm hiking in Hawai'i. No matter where the trail takes me, I'm safe in His love and care. <br /><br /><div align="center">Hebrews 13:5-6. </div><div align="center">“Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” So we say with confidence,<br /> “The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?”</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-57389330464719174262010-12-27T23:41:00.001-08:002010-12-28T02:07:20.559-08:00The Joy of Giving<div align="left"><span style="font-size:180%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555642470929751954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGMSNObTbB-2a_N7n8IxgZjZ3JmyqmV1sOTFz7SXzx1Ivviufh_6V6qUh5SD7yUAhTBDJWvFCT_JSdT5wCW-kY6U4VnW8MeH8eBhLlWPSn1I0ewb2LMal2Aj__cp67_Kgw6oI4l_MiA0S_/s400/DSC_0872.JPG" />Last year</span> we began a new tradition. Unpacking our attic, dusting off scarcely used presents and shipping them off to Goodwill just before we moved to Hawai'i challenged us to completely rethink the way we give gifts. Why do we give "a little something" just so that it can be opened now and dusted later? Why not instead give memories or a service that is desired but unaffordable? So, Jon took us out for ice cream, Laura took us out to a Christmas play, Lydia bought us a movie for movie night, you get the idea. This year, the Three Muskateers (Daniel, Lydia and Jonathan) pooled their money and took the whole family to see Tangled (I highly recommend it). For us, seeing a movie is an unaffordable luxury so this was a real treat. Dave and I still bought gifts for our children and we still filled their stockings, but with more intention towards simplicity. We also gave our kids a pretty cool memory, designing and blowing their own glass ornament. Island Glass Works is a local glass blowing business that combines chemistry, physics and art in one of a kind creations. Here are some of our memories.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">First they gather the glass from the bottom of this oven.</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555647720902383202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif11r11hoxzIzkD5OtZgOmg9k_hnNyI0KPAZHRbfXDSgQ-J10wAfkbz77haL-_EWZAoKxuM-5ktTYufNx60wUSsCTDugmdKU1Yr8d-SVPxkMm6a5eGPPHk_H7pmICSX6_y_536ksXwfpF0/s400/DSC_0719.JPG" /></div><br /><p></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555658451953295058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX19vuA2WL4kOXFCCBUXZi0WrgLVavcIx0Yj7EIMOjsb_b1RvhK1hpWwvQEDuhlWzQZEOYk3GIpoydIjXUvr3UQomKEM4GDLwbrnEbuoGxiqdXxznts6-0pSvrSm1Gs-Qrxlr9kISA7sap/s400/DSC_0727.JPG" /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">Then they add color to the glass using glass shards.</div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555647733398229666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYSALTEyul_1XGnkOoOuzY4EWHMuXqs2LnmnTqgvNrzhzVEXukT20cufC0FSJJeSyqsSHCwt1Mtr5T8u3LjiR2Bc-8gw5icderj-XvQOs6OK7lHdrTCBW3GrwkCu4W6CMf08RKvVooTthb/s400/DSC_0726.JPG" /> <div align="center"></div></div><div align="center">Then they add air. We blew our ornaments through a straw.</div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555658460760013346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPnSRILGBTY0l5yskvo53RCEf5gikS8NzD3LV8N2bci0FfGEaT4OO_JUdz2cahAAGf5zVi1nEgy7NOAdQTtorx7lezkcBJ53O2FUcuLG0Hr-ZjZtxp3L1Tqb7Zi50PlCWEyRdd1NwhBL2N/s400/DSC_0728.JPG" /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555651722992995170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6m2EMjKQiup3nsk2gff0STdM-GD6hzZ5py8AV0Q0O1_WRh3U-FFQUgdjmQbQfnvm0cfWLqZTHQJk2D_qdjkkcyW2bw0Pvejq_SD0AjH6-TnYzxCeYB4qwBTKal_vGd4FN7Wy6_X-HApzk/s400/DSC_0761.JPG" /></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555651713896680146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidmzDRMYL3TQf1TF7qnOZDYOptags2bcIpOxoPfYaBA4pyl_UueB3jxK-UIfTMYVIIDyA7mKsBt2ne3wN6OCIswcrZJP8bSP-_Col9LY1MyXlCno5-LeRaYJrQyKjQC7AKE7sTnSbPuoma/s400/DSC_0748.JPG" />They shaped it using tools that have not changed in 4,000 years. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555651719587517570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0SOThzmscOnlbfo05gthgcvDGsfniFrdpV803oPEBEi6xh1WW6I5NOwjQNQnXMNUynGyoQpG0WdFSk2Xg_sHN762Fhil8zBJR_ArGFe6TYXuEmq2R68IoWD6m0BBtWiFmjDZLwG4rGfCo/s400/DSC_0760.JPG" /></div><p align="center">All glass appears to be red when it is first out of the fire.<br /><br /></p><br /><br /><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555658450272828402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim2ek4Zd5qyCoPZdHYcoQxn8wYgkAG6U6GV_e_eiJdZ6FU6GIT4UQW9RqYXBsz-DLxCtBm9Ku8Uzy0lJzWlIi_lo9PNBOrQ4cQtdbSm2EEnt-bmLMAWdapRvw9le40tpcSm0QHtc91ViX0/s400/DSC_0721.JPG" /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555651724982979042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8VtjpHz2ItQZvz14K3aicXpPBT7LxEqcN4l4X4xIk6ic4ZRX5_728uHq0jznown9u1v0UPWeknncKTCwGd3x9sIJi-kAbEAADf6aH6REbU31pAmk07TAd2aAJVKU_XZAOnHnH4M56G9N/s400/DSC_0730.JPG" /></div><br /><div align="center">You begin to see the true colors as it cools.<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555651732905804434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdCBd69NLMfWzOnEZjtj-XUSNVyNy5pZSuK1M2YxeE5ziUU4i4cIM9mlkS01q4dbxJ_jf3b0N4dVLbwO-fJgKjS3xJ3bdaYtRMon-nlYNvX3qjLt9ZpdCkm2uVSEdh5CA-ahK0dADq5-MZ/s400/DSC_0725.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 395px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 246px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555645037825720866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh62cSUvEUC6_OtWWIoZZVI2ZmCEYnv4iVtn3QbeOMfi_DYxevTQCXRyghKnekupdKN3hzYO6XdR8EzIPYRt7PRkZgKFtKi4O3vgaUB_rX6EYxhX75fKH0BzsE9Gy9olh1-_TCZMGiJDPYC/s400/DSC_0780.JPG" /><br />Now that was a fun gift! </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>Merry Christmas from the Collins Clan! </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-67755262049976977512010-12-27T20:45:00.000-08:002010-12-27T23:39:59.185-08:00Mele Kalikimaka<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60qFdEqVQOjvp6LVdlLiVGeaOtNoaWJPw6ske4QsHRlXNSco24HxgPOrZFfWiy7-YOyYddDHHzLH2UAFmtP7JnezMU4c8RgtNcD6nxribP6TlATRQnn5P-PjexfmOfnPoxT7IYaa1l-ZJ/s1600/DSC_0902.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555615144603432994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60qFdEqVQOjvp6LVdlLiVGeaOtNoaWJPw6ske4QsHRlXNSco24HxgPOrZFfWiy7-YOyYddDHHzLH2UAFmtP7JnezMU4c8RgtNcD6nxribP6TlATRQnn5P-PjexfmOfnPoxT7IYaa1l-ZJ/s400/DSC_0902.JPG" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">June '09 </span>- We had one 20 foot shipping container in which to stuff our furniture, clothes, pantry and other treasured possessions. We sold most of our possessions just to fit the most important things into our container. Our packing friends were coming in 20 minutes and we still had not made our way into the attic to pull out the 4 extra large storage bins of Christmas ornaments, trinkets and treasures. No longer able to delay, we sat down and tried to think logically about very sentimental traditions. I didn't want to spend our holidays hanging snowmen everywhere, lamenting over Christmas past. Frosty wouldn't be coming to Hawai'i. We also had come to realize how unnecessary all of our decorations were and how distracting they had become. So, we left alot of our traditions in the attic, along with the Christmas tree. There was simply no room, not in the container and not in our tiny house without a basement or attic (we are all pretty violently allergic to cut evergreens). We decided to plan on getting a palm tree instead.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Last Christmas</span> - We opened the one average size bin of Christmas treasures, we discovered that we had left some important things behind. The stockings...two boxes of ornaments...our candle nativity...our wooden nativitity...and regardless of what anyone said, we all missed our tree. We tried to make the best of it. We tried to tell ourselves that we weren't as sad as we really were but the reality was that we were heartbroken. The children had been given ornaments each year, with their name and date proudly written on each one. When it became obvious that we couldn't hang their ornaments, the children never complained (which made it worse). We discovered that palm trees, though fast becoming a favorite species of mine, are unaffordable and not nearly as practical for hanging ornaments. We bought a Charlie Brown Norfolk pine and discovered that, while fulfilling a need for greenery, their branches are useless for hanging ornaments. We made the best of our Christmas last year, missing family, missing friends, missing our own traditions. On December 26th, I turned the house as quickly back to normal as possible so that I could forget how painful it had been. I knew that God had called us here to Hawai'i, but did it have to feel so foreign, so different from all that we had known before? </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:180%;">This year,</span> we bought a tree, fully lit and tall enough to reach the beams in our little house. We played music and the children hung all of their ornaments on the tree, and none of the branches wilted. For the first time in all of our Christmases, I did not have to secretly rearrange their ornaments to make them look better. The very first ornaments I was given, made by my brother David's fiance in 1987, now graced our Hawai'i home. Each of the children's kindergarten pictures, stars and yes, snowmen were proudly hung with care. During my visit back to the mainland in June, I canvased the attic for the missing stockings, my quilted tree skirt, our wooden nativity from Israel and even the nativity windmill from Holland. (I ended up not being able to fit it in my bag so I asked, okay forced, Laura to carry it on her way home. She said the pilot had to put it next to him because there was no room on the plane. How appropriate.) Nonetheless, these treasures donned our home this year. The stockings were hung on the bookcase with care. The shutters were dressed in leis and the train made its way proudly around our brightly lit tree. It felt like Christmas. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>As I contemplated my own heart and expectations of Christmas, I thought alot about how it must have felt for the Hawaiians of old to embrace the dramatic changes in their culture. In the early 1800's, when missionaries shared the good news of Jesus' birth, life and resurrection with them, the Hawaiians believed quickly and embraced their new faith whole heartedly. How incredible it must have been for them to literally be living in a stone age culture, with no metal tools or objects whatsoever, and suddenly encounter modern Western culture. So eager were the Hawaiians to show their acceptance of modernity, that Iolani Palace, the home of Hawai'i's monarchy, had electricity before the White House. The capacity of the Hawaiian people to adapt to a new culture was astounding. But many have come to question the amount of cultural changes that were made. It was the custom of the time among Western missionaries to encourage the growth of Western culture in the new converts to the faith. When the Hawaiians wanted to know how to be like these wonderful missionaries, they were encouraged to dress like Westerners and to put aside their hula and other traditions. The Hawaiian culture changed so much that by the time of Hawai'i's annexation to the U.S. in 1895, it had become forbidden to speak the Hawaiian languge. Many portraits of the monarchy of that time offer few visible signs of Hawaiian culture. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Thankfully,</span> it is no longer forbidden to speak Hawaiian and it is no longer taboo to dance hula. In fact, many churches sing hymns in Hawaiian. Our own church sang one of the verses to Silent Night in this beautiful language. Many churches celebrate and illustrate stories and songs with hula. Thankfully, it is no longer required of Hawaiians to choose between the culture and traditions that represent who they really are as a people, and their faith in the One who came to redeem them. Having lost a tiny bit of my own culture in coming here, I have a better understanding of the pain it must have caused my Hawaiian brothers and sisters in the faith. My prayer and hope for this tiny island in the middle of the Pacific is that its people will continue to understand ways that God has revealed Himself to them in their culture and their history so that they may proclaim His goodness to their children and their children's children. That would be Christmas everyday.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever..." Deuteronomy 29:29</span></em></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-60974518522976670442010-11-25T14:47:00.001-08:002010-11-25T16:06:57.935-08:00Thanksgiving Sunrise<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDBXMwtf09S5t1297Ke63tt5Qj2O7uUKjmhLk_SQ7xf6iW3O-v7X_bipPoBEgoKhZkiwFzrUdDEDEkshkKBPMa6h7IMxyrI-FzOxI3wBJPLpCQhM3CpcxxiJWts4fd02VplBHRKhKoXOD/s1600/DSC_0530.JPG"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhg326Z9gZ8JN4KUZvukLdtJRol5uwUPVU0ezWzOqiZ7zWiodDodWKiyRdem6f-QCeU1KD69eN6g0usT3RaWfVguyjLv0H8n6WeA82A2NY08lVKxhTdcJEQC9ZborHL3RmK0LxTf2MXAn/s1600/DSC_0552.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543624765688185810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhg326Z9gZ8JN4KUZvukLdtJRol5uwUPVU0ezWzOqiZ7zWiodDodWKiyRdem6f-QCeU1KD69eN6g0usT3RaWfVguyjLv0H8n6WeA82A2NY08lVKxhTdcJEQC9ZborHL3RmK0LxTf2MXAn/s400/DSC_0552.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsG5swT_OV9Ui05fbSSwiBaMqRdsNuvM4ArZGhYQz1C7CbBLBx4vDZ2bOrQ3RzAr7MQBS1-txlX4k5nvXukaSnIrU0VEk0dwv1wABt06pDkPS-svG9Cexza84MqkWmMpcu0No07IgEkX5z/s1600/DSC_0551.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543624768712779218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsG5swT_OV9Ui05fbSSwiBaMqRdsNuvM4ArZGhYQz1C7CbBLBx4vDZ2bOrQ3RzAr7MQBS1-txlX4k5nvXukaSnIrU0VEk0dwv1wABt06pDkPS-svG9Cexza84MqkWmMpcu0No07IgEkX5z/s400/DSC_0551.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDBXMwtf09S5t1297Ke63tt5Qj2O7uUKjmhLk_SQ7xf6iW3O-v7X_bipPoBEgoKhZkiwFzrUdDEDEkshkKBPMa6h7IMxyrI-FzOxI3wBJPLpCQhM3CpcxxiJWts4fd02VplBHRKhKoXOD/s1600/DSC_0530.JPG"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhg326Z9gZ8JN4KUZvukLdtJRol5uwUPVU0ezWzOqiZ7zWiodDodWKiyRdem6f-QCeU1KD69eN6g0usT3RaWfVguyjLv0H8n6WeA82A2NY08lVKxhTdcJEQC9ZborHL3RmK0LxTf2MXAn/s1600/DSC_0552.JPG"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsG5swT_OV9Ui05fbSSwiBaMqRdsNuvM4ArZGhYQz1C7CbBLBx4vDZ2bOrQ3RzAr7MQBS1-txlX4k5nvXukaSnIrU0VEk0dwv1wABt06pDkPS-svG9Cexza84MqkWmMpcu0No07IgEkX5z/s1600/DSC_0551.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaYa4gTfu6L1xBZ4q1vndSbZvaGBJ_oBxQROFa-kIWHzSh3HdRzLHDv2cTwoJrNVI_YBsmnotTTnXYWBwAFVpywPrRVM-fM3yjBgdsgQ2o9RG44yThlVOCft18y-bSud-7FvNlqwqhZZj/s1600/DSC_0569.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543631183884371426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaYa4gTfu6L1xBZ4q1vndSbZvaGBJ_oBxQROFa-kIWHzSh3HdRzLHDv2cTwoJrNVI_YBsmnotTTnXYWBwAFVpywPrRVM-fM3yjBgdsgQ2o9RG44yThlVOCft18y-bSud-7FvNlqwqhZZj/s400/DSC_0569.JPG" /></a><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543631169597239874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGw4dzyu5Nd4tX4u0JIQWyxCvsShxvat7TomAkMhLRJLvrPJ_GUXdzlJs874gldo7X30e-T_YNgmGR95BpBsBdiPXynUkO_Twvymh_U0OXab8TJhGmDhLCcVN-rQEZFHTgH8ypOyHYv2Bs/s400/DSC_0560.JPG" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBAgbaKj-1Dw6a_ge4IvXMGgTur1XRVvYSJ60Gp0S3tpwFf5nxtP-fxbaHZ1v52N2KTn2INh66turGAOPKOV_uW29k5np0I46HoHp6j43lC-WX2zJyqlP77x6K63xQUZi_XBvgFquV8n00/s1600/DSC_0567.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543631174714880434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBAgbaKj-1Dw6a_ge4IvXMGgTur1XRVvYSJ60Gp0S3tpwFf5nxtP-fxbaHZ1v52N2KTn2INh66turGAOPKOV_uW29k5np0I46HoHp6j43lC-WX2zJyqlP77x6K63xQUZi_XBvgFquV8n00/s400/DSC_0567.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXRD5kvTTUjl42TbyV2tvvHGTPhRIaNdoDQiCP_bQGPYR-8wl7kD_eyZ7CLov7722dxvH567vZ8C7mwkHBGHJa13UwfM5LND0F0LFa604sE6LDnK7TgJKQRZvjLJ9t3nEfnJPk4sV5z1x/s1600/DSC_0572.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543631162570816514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXRD5kvTTUjl42TbyV2tvvHGTPhRIaNdoDQiCP_bQGPYR-8wl7kD_eyZ7CLov7722dxvH567vZ8C7mwkHBGHJa13UwfM5LND0F0LFa604sE6LDnK7TgJKQRZvjLJ9t3nEfnJPk4sV5z1x/s400/DSC_0572.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5JvLBisoL20AR2Bpo4HGPgHKC8CX-RY1UZbIPDY0CqipOFVFtTMNR_YKdK3v4BBDmSqI9FU4oRhGq4n5iZQG3cmp18Zg37oMN4n0XkQ0c9iPFIJd6ysVBfVdS3ciNqZ1B4rtKQLAjcVbU/s1600/DSC_0511.JPG"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW69pIATz-yj-IGQM3wGloSLS6mt9TXNYraMMP0S_TKtD5ZDiN1uai8UtlZK75EkAmARZBHlib5fRSWeSEKzubUQof8n_c9qp3p1zgRhIVdeXuzST9e2YHGJZ158BuSl2Kd2AP_4IFJesC/s1600/DSC_0536.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543628265330668386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW69pIATz-yj-IGQM3wGloSLS6mt9TXNYraMMP0S_TKtD5ZDiN1uai8UtlZK75EkAmARZBHlib5fRSWeSEKzubUQof8n_c9qp3p1zgRhIVdeXuzST9e2YHGJZ158BuSl2Kd2AP_4IFJesC/s400/DSC_0536.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDedyjZB_vnTQcFUo9p69rKx3Yy4EVcGN0A2W4ayWAXwekrdpZ2Po4aukrMQMWjDYOTswCH95I3QmBqNrCUr7Sp5IgajxKXSwHfGAtbuBWxZ0JvOkYXLrtTNmweEJkHIj21y_DnD2PvEe-/s1600/DSC_0542.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543628256760340882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDedyjZB_vnTQcFUo9p69rKx3Yy4EVcGN0A2W4ayWAXwekrdpZ2Po4aukrMQMWjDYOTswCH95I3QmBqNrCUr7Sp5IgajxKXSwHfGAtbuBWxZ0JvOkYXLrtTNmweEJkHIj21y_DnD2PvEe-/s400/DSC_0542.JPG" /></a><br />We met at the bottom of the hill of Kakapu lighthouse at 5:30 a.m. and hiked for 30 minutes up the paved path with only the light of the moon and a few flashlights. Venus, Orion and the Seven Sisters observed from above the mountains while we enjoyed the ocean winds and worked our way to the top. From the summit we could see the same beautiful coastal road we traveled in the dark. Our friends, the Wilks, provided yummy burritos when we made it back to the bottom after wishing dozens of other sunrise hikers a Happy Thanksgiving. I think we have discovered a new tradition to bring in the holidays here in Hawai'i.<br /><br />This month, my third graders studied the 7 major biomes of the earth. As we celebrated Thanksgiving in our own classroom, I read to them "Over the river and through the woods" and asked them what biome was reflected. They recognized the deciduous forests descriptions and tried to sympathize with the difficulty of breezes that sting the nose and bite the toes. I read this poem to challenge them to appreciate their own colors and culture because there is a sense that the holiday isn't real unless the leaves have fallen and the weather is cold. I can honestly say that I have not seen a single maple, oak or sycamore tree here in Hawai'i, yet all the stores, classrooms and lobbies are covered with silk replicas of their leaves. I asked my students if not having those trees or experiences makes our holiday less real...they weren't sure. The association with fall colors and leaves and harvest is a good one, but not the only one. Surely the most important association with this holiday is thankfulness. In that light, we each held three kukui nuts (in abundant supply on our island and often used in making leis) and filled a glass bowl (that we watched being made at a field trip to a glassblowing shop) as 23 children counted their blessings. Another thanksgiving tradition to continue. We also discussed our own version of that popular thanksgiving poem.<br /><br /><div align="center">Over the ocean and through the canal to Tutu's house we go</div><div align="center">The crew knows the way to carry the canoe through the blue ocean foam</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Over the mountains and through the Pali oh how the Trade Winds blow</div><div align="center">The rains come down and rainbows abound as over the hills we go....</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Happy Thanksgiving from the lovely Pacific....</div><div align="center"> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-54179024188835474052010-11-13T23:12:00.000-08:002010-11-14T00:07:29.178-08:00Veteran's Day : A Rest from Work<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSEaherNR0gcX7VaExwVqAkotLX_yO5zAgau7RxM9K4IKhw8pukNJ9bgtgao4a2B5WDAfaIcqlCdVQU81NTIvhC-lKaecNGGKKcM3RonaHjyBRj4xhIrEXSLbLkGNfPRrSy899zySucrPA/s1600/DSC_1755.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSEaherNR0gcX7VaExwVqAkotLX_yO5zAgau7RxM9K4IKhw8pukNJ9bgtgao4a2B5WDAfaIcqlCdVQU81NTIvhC-lKaecNGGKKcM3RonaHjyBRj4xhIrEXSLbLkGNfPRrSy899zySucrPA/s400/DSC_1755.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539307610274907170" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTPGBQVNKqsLHrFri9bPqDyHZYuU0y9K6l6Jk2WLoG0OxenbaL5uiq4MLxi1cCk8GjiQBCw_YgZCQAaWO6hrabxIB0ro7Smhue-1g5YLBaZ2EFi-4SII8xD_6-QE2pRCYhUBmwlpcckUhJ/s1600/DSC_1645.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTPGBQVNKqsLHrFri9bPqDyHZYuU0y9K6l6Jk2WLoG0OxenbaL5uiq4MLxi1cCk8GjiQBCw_YgZCQAaWO6hrabxIB0ro7Smhue-1g5YLBaZ2EFi-4SII8xD_6-QE2pRCYhUBmwlpcckUhJ/s400/DSC_1645.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539307618149531938" /></a><br /><br />Our school closed for Veteran's Day last Thursday so the family went for a road trip towards the North Shore, where the waves can reach as high as 40 feet in the Winter. We came upon this park. Its name means a rest from work.<br /><br />What a joy it was to soak in the sunshine and hear the waves. Dave and Lydia and Daniel waded out to a small island and walked around. Laura, Shawn and Jonathan climbed the foundation of an old building. And I sat still, something I don't do very often. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz54L9bgSDkx9674J8Rhu4LgDrE8aVPNXIy9BeluzYQzL3nQCbhq8kpEYn-vxjcrOFHOe6sW6O_vHPvoKqdHSwn4N4dl4XXVwWc7W5KKOGQqF2-0oh343LH-s63mogpx_YkcM3o_LqRRpB/s1600/DSC_1662.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz54L9bgSDkx9674J8Rhu4LgDrE8aVPNXIy9BeluzYQzL3nQCbhq8kpEYn-vxjcrOFHOe6sW6O_vHPvoKqdHSwn4N4dl4XXVwWc7W5KKOGQqF2-0oh343LH-s63mogpx_YkcM3o_LqRRpB/s400/DSC_1662.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539311650467781714" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgljN7okEYnPe4RDYmAnZ8fDKhZBfoJnOPk7LXTd2Ug9lmTDoaD6-qnF0J_xT13-BBj2mCYAvpPO9brkC6I30ibevlLbyVKFF6ch7C4ozM6zISMuv-u8oSPFebOkiGAfIUIxM6Lhf8Z5Rox/s1600/DSC_1648.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgljN7okEYnPe4RDYmAnZ8fDKhZBfoJnOPk7LXTd2Ug9lmTDoaD6-qnF0J_xT13-BBj2mCYAvpPO9brkC6I30ibevlLbyVKFF6ch7C4ozM6zISMuv-u8oSPFebOkiGAfIUIxM6Lhf8Z5Rox/s400/DSC_1648.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539311645880197330" /></a><br />It's hard to believe our life in Hawai'i has only been a little over a year. The changes in our school have been quite substantial. Very few schools actually navigate successfully through the waters of changing to a Classical and Christian curriculum, but Trinity is doing just that. Our teachers are writing jingles, songs, chants and rhymes to help our grammar school students memorize. Our secondary teachers are challenging, debating and focusing. All this in just a few years. God is clearly at work in every detail and we are constantly humbled to see His loving and firm hand guiding the work here. I was recently asked to take on the role of Curriculum Instructor, coming alongside the teachers as an administrative support and I am excited by the opportunity to serve the Lord and the school in this way. I'll still be teaching third graders, but this gives me an opportunity to have an impact on other students as well. <br /><br />The challenge for me and for Dave is to remember to rest from work from time to time. There is so much to do and we often find ourselves stretched too far, forgetting that "graveyards are full of indispensible people." So, I'm thankful for the rest on Thursday...and for the Veterans who gave me the freedom to work, and to rest.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-24755844197545945112010-10-23T22:08:00.000-07:002010-10-23T22:38:04.132-07:00What I Can and Can't Do<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3VBUjfopPljjNFDSDhuxLq95yiJRcwbs2P4ensr2dwApf4OpYM52OzWjkjgDuFZr9TVthtbRGzjaOZrPiSJVkdS33CNLTqc9v9HPOoKdU-2NYual1THKg8Aptn7XjgDCtLjjifGaWvf5S/s1600/balance.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 123px; height: 110px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3VBUjfopPljjNFDSDhuxLq95yiJRcwbs2P4ensr2dwApf4OpYM52OzWjkjgDuFZr9TVthtbRGzjaOZrPiSJVkdS33CNLTqc9v9HPOoKdU-2NYual1THKg8Aptn7XjgDCtLjjifGaWvf5S/s400/balance.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531482009684621954" /></a><br />I can be a faithful teacher and a faithful mom at the same time.<br />I can't try to be Wonder Woman.<br /><br />I can work and still enjoy making meals for my family.<br />I can't try to be Martha Stewart.<br /><br />I can keep an orderly home.<br />I can't try to do it all myself.<br /><br />I can live with less.<br />I can't try to have it all. <br /><br />I can use the Internet to help me stay organized.<br />I can't stay organized if I am distracted by surfing the net.<br /><br />I can do all that I am supposed to do.<br />I can't lose my focus.<br /><br /><strong><em>"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:2</em></strong><br /><br />I marvel that the Lord of all left the throne, endured poverty and shame for 33 years, died for all and returned to that throne considering His work done (He sat down). That Lord is my Lord. He began the work that I take part in as a Christian. His kingdom is my focus. By His grace I can accomplish His calling. But I must fix my eyes. Ever try balancing without finding a focal point? "Let us fix our eyes"...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-26566546054819838762010-10-13T01:06:00.001-07:002010-10-13T02:09:31.871-07:00Along the way<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5nvJGuO8PRO-CQsBw0it9bajJz2Uaxr7_K2dZO_gb6y8488TeB6kcHI0d1wTYSt6qTO7V9V3j5lsCPH3N1H6ysu6lAfICJD9hoqE2DOqAowKQFoN1Zd-W5V7tOwXFJb7vu9MSYSa7wQLG/s1600/DSC_1299.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5nvJGuO8PRO-CQsBw0it9bajJz2Uaxr7_K2dZO_gb6y8488TeB6kcHI0d1wTYSt6qTO7V9V3j5lsCPH3N1H6ysu6lAfICJD9hoqE2DOqAowKQFoN1Zd-W5V7tOwXFJb7vu9MSYSa7wQLG/s400/DSC_1299.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527453465757774018" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekLCBrFNNl2GL4oJ24cuR0V_tQHttUm5SDPekRNWOMp9uOZYIjBTuTaUvOuijHR1u6g7JgcPWA1RjcKKqqbuWhcIp3bbDmdYmTIOLeqUmsAt4mTSVccECnuSUz0u9Pk7ti5emB_Xb_v0D/s1600/DSC_1317.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekLCBrFNNl2GL4oJ24cuR0V_tQHttUm5SDPekRNWOMp9uOZYIjBTuTaUvOuijHR1u6g7JgcPWA1RjcKKqqbuWhcIp3bbDmdYmTIOLeqUmsAt4mTSVccECnuSUz0u9Pk7ti5emB_Xb_v0D/s400/DSC_1317.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527440491167969826" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx2JsamS-oCKMgXRLeTLvPnegUatCv2ZsI9ai7i2k_TwbShzfLwkEgkcm96IJLORC7xgtHVjMTpReAk1FCEj-TOSyOanNxnCVrX88_eKTQ-K7sot-GT1yX-ZpvDJAQLrn8BmV8tSYgzROf/s1600/DSC_1326.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx2JsamS-oCKMgXRLeTLvPnegUatCv2ZsI9ai7i2k_TwbShzfLwkEgkcm96IJLORC7xgtHVjMTpReAk1FCEj-TOSyOanNxnCVrX88_eKTQ-K7sot-GT1yX-ZpvDJAQLrn8BmV8tSYgzROf/s400/DSC_1326.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527440487315077058" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvGIHghuSDITkMOalJ4M6o9eJ49CH18c6NG5BpgUoYWjMsBlTRVcBNOKq4YjehadzgQLjwF1AyFU_YoFLM0XiscMH0hus0QropCzFzOhGcN0sierBTgkYRL8YVbbkoFRekQs5DNcs0wSy/s1600/DSC_1301.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvGIHghuSDITkMOalJ4M6o9eJ49CH18c6NG5BpgUoYWjMsBlTRVcBNOKq4YjehadzgQLjwF1AyFU_YoFLM0XiscMH0hus0QropCzFzOhGcN0sierBTgkYRL8YVbbkoFRekQs5DNcs0wSy/s400/DSC_1301.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527440483245444194" /></a><br /><br />The first time Dave and I hiked Olomana was in 2008, the summer that we visited Hawaii. I didn't make it to the top. That was before I knew about my heart condition, before the medication, before the recovery. So, yesterday's summit was invigorating and encouraging. You can see by the final view that the hours of pushing and pulling and laboring up the mountain are completely justified. The doubts, frustration and even fear are completely lost in the euphoria of "We made it!" So many times in my life as a Christian I've felt like I've been hiking up a mountain...will those ropes hold? Can I make it any further? Should I take the narrow path or the wider path? What is it about us that longs to see the big picture, the view from above? If only we could know the outcome of our paths before we begin...<br /><br />But we were made to walk by faith; to look around us and see not rubble and dirt but paths and challenges. We were made to test the ropes. The creeds that define our faith do not bind us...they hold us. We can trust them not because they are ancient or because they are familiar, but because they are true. "I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth"....There is a Creator; microbiology affirms that. "I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord." Take the narrow path; go the higher ground.He really is who He said He was. "He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified , died and was buried;" Don't look at the crags in the rocks and wonder if they'll collapse, seek the opportunities in grabbing hold and hanging on. Keep pressing on, keep believing in what is true. When you reach the top, you will see..." The third day He rose again from the dead." At that point the clarity of vision will sharpen you to see that what you thought was an obstacle, was really an opportunity. What you saw as impossible was in fact possible. "He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of God the Father Almighty." Each step of our lives is a step of faith in something...but what? Ourselves? The economy? The government? <br /><br />When this hike is over, what's next? "I believe in the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting." The difference between Jesus Christ and every other leader in history is one thing: an empty tomb, a body that was never found...for 2010 years. That causes me to turn my head...and walk by faith.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-70172510486485748852010-09-29T22:27:00.000-07:002010-09-29T23:02:13.684-07:00And So It Begins...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb5Gtafp6T-DkN8hkSb760yPYBQ4lEodBKlrPnaRmE-x1oEE1MWTyzvJBK_ZHiEohLa_G5Z2dmyUELpyT6YpCqj2JvPO0t4v-DyC7QsVOTv6gx_8_86iF2DlwA5mGu5o7MUxhkE29O6eG-/s1600/Humuhumunukunukuapuaa.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 350px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb5Gtafp6T-DkN8hkSb760yPYBQ4lEodBKlrPnaRmE-x1oEE1MWTyzvJBK_ZHiEohLa_G5Z2dmyUELpyT6YpCqj2JvPO0t4v-DyC7QsVOTv6gx_8_86iF2DlwA5mGu5o7MUxhkE29O6eG-/s400/Humuhumunukunukuapuaa.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522582848192188146" /></a><br />Our school has been in session for 7 weeks now. The marathon of juggling motherhood, teaching and teacher training has begun. I didn't think that this year could possibly be harder but it is. However, I know that I'm right where I belong. I love this island, its history, its culture and its people. Over the summer I worked on a curriculum that begins with what our students know and draws ever broadening circles outward, allowing students to make connections so that school feels less like a compilation of subjects and more like an unfolding story. I am most excited about our science curriculum. The focus is what students living in Hawai'i know...ocean, volcanoes, mountains and geckos....and only about 4 mammals. But by starting with what they know and teaching the history behind the science, our students will not view science as an isolated body of facts. They will learn the story of the discoveries behind the periodic table as it unfolded in history so that they will have a solid understanding of the facts. They will study the plants and animals of our island (my class is studying fish), learning the English, Latin and Hawaiian names for each. My hope for our students is that they see the world with clearer vision and curiosity. Curiosity is the greatest scientific skill of all.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-70841130732702869842010-08-30T23:42:00.000-07:002010-08-31T00:02:42.673-07:00The Keiki Room<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQGynTuDcV7-x7NlNr4UWqhHUi2Ll_VAUwL7pVpJHjQ3jUy42S6caJ4ekr5IEGX-EGBGwomVHVoBXKmHpY5dKBVqjTY1B3hvvmqdx5x5gpuN7SGV0iAT9OFNgxc24PCPIBxmOqdtz4gs4a/s1600/DSC_0429.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQGynTuDcV7-x7NlNr4UWqhHUi2Ll_VAUwL7pVpJHjQ3jUy42S6caJ4ekr5IEGX-EGBGwomVHVoBXKmHpY5dKBVqjTY1B3hvvmqdx5x5gpuN7SGV0iAT9OFNgxc24PCPIBxmOqdtz4gs4a/s400/DSC_0429.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511465329268950098" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKN6HI8I1o3cZYWOLlQWJa3yjBAgR848x98-gR8BSAbM2LKMxNZBkDTTbfj09iD4mTA6tHZz9Hbf1N8dhyphenhyphenQo4zwgrUk9Ewi9eba9nZo-aNryqg9x32GcppxnYtOE3qs805y0Si3J6IWfzL/s1600/DSC_0430.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKN6HI8I1o3cZYWOLlQWJa3yjBAgR848x98-gR8BSAbM2LKMxNZBkDTTbfj09iD4mTA6tHZz9Hbf1N8dhyphenhyphenQo4zwgrUk9Ewi9eba9nZo-aNryqg9x32GcppxnYtOE3qs805y0Si3J6IWfzL/s400/DSC_0430.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511465322218885186" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAX8ftFY2yax9BatrVbo2sLH_1TDOaBdpbqLxeaxQkBkp0i8SEFxwjUzmVJ50Ginn-bkzMbjgft3FEkTOU2VLfmxKX6OYoNVdiZqaw-xat33D7jiRm6GaJmbZj8lEISkZks7JOCILGRvQd/s1600/DSC_0428.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAX8ftFY2yax9BatrVbo2sLH_1TDOaBdpbqLxeaxQkBkp0i8SEFxwjUzmVJ50Ginn-bkzMbjgft3FEkTOU2VLfmxKX6OYoNVdiZqaw-xat33D7jiRm6GaJmbZj8lEISkZks7JOCILGRvQd/s400/DSC_0428.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511463832057085810" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRmV2oeUcMFEDMb9N90qYkW7fisi3no-GDbIF6DL7sVKHOrApiFiVEP2732-0T4H4DK2Cd2JcxYkSgZ90VptmN7f7froboBRj4BZUGmH8ZbsGtGhnEa_GSubdG204NG4PgBjyM-QY30_8k/s1600/DSC_0427.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRmV2oeUcMFEDMb9N90qYkW7fisi3no-GDbIF6DL7sVKHOrApiFiVEP2732-0T4H4DK2Cd2JcxYkSgZ90VptmN7f7froboBRj4BZUGmH8ZbsGtGhnEa_GSubdG204NG4PgBjyM-QY30_8k/s400/DSC_0427.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511463824815741330" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh54prr8F67S8ehL0In94tUsJbyHPVmjOors-peml7csl6nfMnLxKm5RExcDJwJos7IYHb7MvQjSvKll2pLlQ9qRT3BuzQj-KeqnLUUlfJlMsM2ez6sNXOqeHIeptPZ_fl8l04e-cY3kYsa/s1600/DSC_0426.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh54prr8F67S8ehL0In94tUsJbyHPVmjOors-peml7csl6nfMnLxKm5RExcDJwJos7IYHb7MvQjSvKll2pLlQ9qRT3BuzQj-KeqnLUUlfJlMsM2ez6sNXOqeHIeptPZ_fl8l04e-cY3kYsa/s400/DSC_0426.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511463815135201922" /></a><br /><br /><br />After the living room and lanai were redone, I began to work on the kids' room. It needed a more local and colorful look to it. It started with nicely priced quilts from my favorite store here, Ross. Then I made leaf prints from some of my favorite native plants. I've never painted on canvas before so that was a new and fun experience. They still share a room and a bathroom and a closet and it still works, mostly. We all agree it builds character. In Maryland, all 6 of us shared one bathroom so this isn't so bad.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-42465136688720629662010-08-30T22:10:00.001-07:002010-08-30T23:42:05.996-07:00A Not So Extreme Makeover<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeTOG9R4K2SfUzIzoIjkMX3YGBxG8QAd-9e2vIhlLGGlX3uBX5FZNMVFUjvGn6kESLpEp7IRvdpa-mLcdLnt_DUKply6TZcm7fGI1uGCgdZdUYxLQzVDfttb_qkAO1Kqo3oZehOx8IiwUV/s1600/DSC_0439.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeTOG9R4K2SfUzIzoIjkMX3YGBxG8QAd-9e2vIhlLGGlX3uBX5FZNMVFUjvGn6kESLpEp7IRvdpa-mLcdLnt_DUKply6TZcm7fGI1uGCgdZdUYxLQzVDfttb_qkAO1Kqo3oZehOx8IiwUV/s400/DSC_0439.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511456148242912722" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5tRuWrPn9edVRF4uVfhXy_HmP5cH3VHXJPgVUy1UJjwMjXSbvu7rH04lJdLwWekkPbT3FoVbp84a9zmbrgiqYpwMKmvoncQi-tj85ZMYWsDL7mrBoIi7dRP_YkNoBHc9GA4pJgn0ou8s/s1600/DSC_0437.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5tRuWrPn9edVRF4uVfhXy_HmP5cH3VHXJPgVUy1UJjwMjXSbvu7rH04lJdLwWekkPbT3FoVbp84a9zmbrgiqYpwMKmvoncQi-tj85ZMYWsDL7mrBoIi7dRP_YkNoBHc9GA4pJgn0ou8s/s400/DSC_0437.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511456139839318178" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2uvQbcLo7ftu05y9ZquBwKDtxMV89rsNHOXhuo_iE2qhVsoD4c3JZqB0rqisJVQ7Du4o1Bmw_X8IQIReG9b-KskjxH9TvTgisSnJUCh1TE6zAXUBgJc0SAo-AGjY5um0NvojCmvJOEoy/s1600/DSC_0434.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2uvQbcLo7ftu05y9ZquBwKDtxMV89rsNHOXhuo_iE2qhVsoD4c3JZqB0rqisJVQ7Du4o1Bmw_X8IQIReG9b-KskjxH9TvTgisSnJUCh1TE6zAXUBgJc0SAo-AGjY5um0NvojCmvJOEoy/s400/DSC_0434.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511456136879659186" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieT4UINQQgVycH7EN-aMamdl0YLnDNtc502aE-5lNa5VhhnnPIP68qaF255UyznpR4t5V6dctD4aq75DdHSxOHkXs_QRBkJxjtrwRpSBEMM2WQ_1adLANV5HLUYh-5qV2HwxlEwE6M8DEx/s1600/DSC_0436.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieT4UINQQgVycH7EN-aMamdl0YLnDNtc502aE-5lNa5VhhnnPIP68qaF255UyznpR4t5V6dctD4aq75DdHSxOHkXs_QRBkJxjtrwRpSBEMM2WQ_1adLANV5HLUYh-5qV2HwxlEwE6M8DEx/s400/DSC_0436.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511456125345206770" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZsHMsAICF6YBBk61RuCDmrNTTJXsgERvYXik_F3onkPiimn8x3E6-N5n3Btjt7BMFre1qXNim4lXTgwCr1Ft-Ba71dy_2EyTjiCPbBH_ssh1CNtnmnd1h_luhBAX53oWHcbYhAIfyQ_v9/s1600/DSC_0438.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZsHMsAICF6YBBk61RuCDmrNTTJXsgERvYXik_F3onkPiimn8x3E6-N5n3Btjt7BMFre1qXNim4lXTgwCr1Ft-Ba71dy_2EyTjiCPbBH_ssh1CNtnmnd1h_luhBAX53oWHcbYhAIfyQ_v9/s400/DSC_0438.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511456118948850434" /></a><br />Last summer I began a quest to find a leather recliner for my husband. Poor guy, he sold his papa bear-sized chair to make the trek here. I was so excited to find a chair that was just right at the Salvation Army. It was so large that it made our other furniture look like something from a Hobbit hole. Then the quest began for a leather couch, which we bought from a really nice guy named Rick on Craig's List (see Google Chrime to find out more). Once the living room was all on the same scale, we rearranged the lanai. Little by little, our house had a new look. So I thought I'd post the pictures here since you can't come for tea.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-82754090559299487022010-07-27T21:15:00.000-07:002010-08-30T22:08:13.674-07:00Keeping it Simple<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjbZ0-4vQ8ofacGAqt0s4-Br3_lmlv3leEn2oXXsg57TyP-PrzygUREzrM-KFxFtfpPWSth_PicnwUnx3GhPCxtUaEurWR0IJjYYFjrD2a7hiteXJ4fkfNwnTrrEQKhJPKs5_Omf6zt4x/s1600/DSC_0008.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjbZ0-4vQ8ofacGAqt0s4-Br3_lmlv3leEn2oXXsg57TyP-PrzygUREzrM-KFxFtfpPWSth_PicnwUnx3GhPCxtUaEurWR0IJjYYFjrD2a7hiteXJ4fkfNwnTrrEQKhJPKs5_Omf6zt4x/s400/DSC_0008.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509958365218416274" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwkXG4qs2yXYoZF-std7E9M-061UuWI6vQAgsMGJfWAMp8PfHrUzbO7cyGnnUE6RSRSWua4eQL4LP1BsjqW6FYbDPILxMjg6brMRwdMqnZgWJodnogYEC9EXeXvCeXG6qtCL6pa8xH95p/s1600/DSC_0006.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwkXG4qs2yXYoZF-std7E9M-061UuWI6vQAgsMGJfWAMp8PfHrUzbO7cyGnnUE6RSRSWua4eQL4LP1BsjqW6FYbDPILxMjg6brMRwdMqnZgWJodnogYEC9EXeXvCeXG6qtCL6pa8xH95p/s400/DSC_0006.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509958359965510034" /></a><br />These mountains are what we wake up to each day. The clouds are constantly changing around them, creating a new painting moment by moment. The power lines are a bit of a downer. If you look closely between the peaks of the mountains, you can see some water falls trickling down. Those waterfalls carved the peaks the way unconditional love smoothes a heart of stone. <br /><br />The year before we left for Hawai'i I came to the conclusion that an enormous part of my life was spent simply managing my possessions. Saturdays were chore days, where the whole family chipped in in to dust, polish, clean, straighten, vacuum or put away our accumulation of possessions. But cleaning wasn't just for Saturdays. Every day had a list of chores assigned to it in order to keep our family of 6 fed, clothed and clean. I think the initial misdiagnosis of a possibly shorter life due to a heart defect caused me to ask myself what I was doing with my life. I wondered if I was spending the time that God gives me each day in a way that increases peace on earth or simply reduces dust collection and laundry pile-ups. Not that laundry and cleaning are bad things, but I became convinced that if I would let go of some of my stuff, I could have more time to do the things in life that really mattered such as helping people, writing, and loving my family. Our move to Hawai'i provided an opportunity to rethink my home and life with a focused goal: make more time of people-oriented tasks and less for possession-oriented tasks. Saving time became even more critical when we decided that for the first time in our marriage, both parents would work full-time. To keep ourselves from burning out, we made some specific resolutions: <br /><br />1. Spare the stuff. Keeping only the furniture, toys and knick-knacks that were useful (or too meaningful to lose) and ridding our lives of the rest of the things we were holding onto was really helpful in freeing up our time. The less things we have, the less we have to dust or maintain, the more time we have for other things, most importantly, people. <br /><br />2. Smaller is better. I was always thankful that we lived in a small home in Maryland but our current house is even smaller. We determined to furnish our home with only the necessary furniture for living comfortably. So, not only is our home smaller, more importantly, it is less cluttered. It used to take us hours as a family to get our house spiffy clean. Now it takes about 30 minutes.<br /><br />3. Touch it once. One huge time saver is to set up systems for mail, laundry, food and other daily tasks so that the items involved are touched as few times as possible in the completion of the task involved. For instance, in our home in Maryland, the mail was brought in, put on the step, taken upstairs to the office and put in a basket. Now, the mail is brought directly in the location where we pay bills (the most important part of mail). Some of this is the difference between living in a one level home instead of a multi-level home, but some of the process just needed fixing. Dishes are another example. In our old house, we had a dishwasher and many cabinets. Each day someone would empty the dishwasher, put the dishes in the cabinet, take the dishes out later, set the table, then re-load the dishwasher and start the process over again the next day. I still wish we had a dishwasher, but now I have a dish rack (which used to be an aquarium stand) that displays my dishes and utensils and allows them to dry at the same time. Now, I don't set the table during the week, only on Sundays. So for a regular meal, we grab the dishes from the rack, fill our plates and enjoy our dinner at the table in the lanai (in beautiful weather all year long). Such a simple thing, but every few minutes saved adds up.<br /><br />4. Keep it simple. Life can be so complicated and we add to the frenzy with all of our unrealistic expectations. One area we have tried to keep more simple is gift giving.I was horrified to discover that many of my attempts to love our kids by blessing them with toys or other treasures ended up in the attic only to have me drip with sweat as I packed them up for Goodwill.It has been such a relief to look at birthdays as days to go and do special things we wouldn't do otherwise instead of feeling compelled to go out and buy something. So far, our children have said they really like this method of gift giving better than before. <br /><br />5. Stay close. My life in Maryland was anything but strategically located. Now that we live here, I can see the value of small town life. Everything is close. We grumble when we have to go "all the way into town" because it means going through the mountains and driving for 20 minutes. We are so used to 7 minute drives that 20 minutes feels like a day trip. Having lived here a year, I am astounded by the time saved (and gas, too) because we live and work and worship closer to home. I had no idea how much living closer to everything would reduce stress. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHiHCCys2bdKpu6Zn7IhXFynCLBFNEV48kGnTO36S9o0ciLQZ8A_iGl4WSxX3_3uzwleEqqMOAMAyVxSysEeCrqKWM8QnQJfQz4d1GICFz-8ap89qX05hpPAvBKcwkrXYE6xRU01is7H0j/s1600/DSC_0450.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHiHCCys2bdKpu6Zn7IhXFynCLBFNEV48kGnTO36S9o0ciLQZ8A_iGl4WSxX3_3uzwleEqqMOAMAyVxSysEeCrqKWM8QnQJfQz4d1GICFz-8ap89qX05hpPAvBKcwkrXYE6xRU01is7H0j/s400/DSC_0450.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511434608200593202" /></a><br /><br /><br />6. A place for everything and everything in its place. This sounds nit-picky but it's so helpful to really think about the most strategic place for everything instead of the place things ends up. Being intentional about our home will help us be intentional about our lives. Keeping after my kids about putting things away helps them be intentional about their lives, too.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-41737257693791252272010-07-16T01:00:00.000-07:002010-07-16T01:12:03.867-07:00Summertime in Hawai'i<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdPrXiagomdQNsBK4YczYixz1FLLoGLr7VLMy9JU04zx7DO5976Bpgsz2dih2K5OfP2nlxpKmfODBf2VVquKfQfun8n7tQrc14lEqNL7EUEkCGFjksqoHVKDf1giDKbNqKs_wjun1F7BT/s1600/DSC_0378.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdPrXiagomdQNsBK4YczYixz1FLLoGLr7VLMy9JU04zx7DO5976Bpgsz2dih2K5OfP2nlxpKmfODBf2VVquKfQfun8n7tQrc14lEqNL7EUEkCGFjksqoHVKDf1giDKbNqKs_wjun1F7BT/s400/DSC_0378.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494413472029081506" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTtcK2R8awio4oKcp1G8C0XOn23t6Awb70DrRLiGFfNULSfIADqVB16UgzWmM7HYW2ZW82dUXpKOqegX51ZVw7OSsGuh9A8Wv4-ZTIfeYJFMQvglo0wcb86h6VGxup7k5pPPAbsvFDY5Vy/s1600/DSC_0371.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTtcK2R8awio4oKcp1G8C0XOn23t6Awb70DrRLiGFfNULSfIADqVB16UgzWmM7HYW2ZW82dUXpKOqegX51ZVw7OSsGuh9A8Wv4-ZTIfeYJFMQvglo0wcb86h6VGxup7k5pPPAbsvFDY5Vy/s400/DSC_0371.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494413465070936370" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJTI152Ch9MjpHx6noZax7hSogEcl-PcRDtFEAZKGgzlXyPjdfPNvtpqIrgXBBXhx8wDNAgWnPLpxHc5CjvyCva4xXp_gm0Zsa8o1LeKXyRFc96iQYlh4TxB2KW0XyWNDeCaBLeMBNImeq/s1600/DSC_0369.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJTI152Ch9MjpHx6noZax7hSogEcl-PcRDtFEAZKGgzlXyPjdfPNvtpqIrgXBBXhx8wDNAgWnPLpxHc5CjvyCva4xXp_gm0Zsa8o1LeKXyRFc96iQYlh4TxB2KW0XyWNDeCaBLeMBNImeq/s400/DSC_0369.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494412885901924338" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKC0-jUsaWbBZk7bMYsqIonE-Oy0UFPAyDa4-OZmOjYHqQwQNFoIFMLHW8IrQbfPsLxzFdCjwNfEH4zitIcEN00jG9RZtrwpODgUirWm3e3UYph5Yb68-gujMyGjZWsbGwPShmUvIig87f/s1600/DSC_0350.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKC0-jUsaWbBZk7bMYsqIonE-Oy0UFPAyDa4-OZmOjYHqQwQNFoIFMLHW8IrQbfPsLxzFdCjwNfEH4zitIcEN00jG9RZtrwpODgUirWm3e3UYph5Yb68-gujMyGjZWsbGwPShmUvIig87f/s400/DSC_0350.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494412872082566898" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRFA4HAevFrbCUqIqggfxqYKLGF2Vx-1xvbBv_eYRwcDlhPL-MUwVTTNNezzEd8jYCFmNuhOkIeyg5yL8Ufsx5B0fr9a6JWhkUhixXtZVAb-y_nVUuEDpqc9iMEmq9819xnF0SzVRpF5Hy/s1600/DSC_0016.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRFA4HAevFrbCUqIqggfxqYKLGF2Vx-1xvbBv_eYRwcDlhPL-MUwVTTNNezzEd8jYCFmNuhOkIeyg5yL8Ufsx5B0fr9a6JWhkUhixXtZVAb-y_nVUuEDpqc9iMEmq9819xnF0SzVRpF5Hy/s400/DSC_0016.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494411382341379122" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-76829580508055413342010-07-14T12:59:00.000-07:002010-07-14T13:48:23.141-07:00Don't panic.Google Chrime is a short story, slightly based in reality, just like its author. It was just for fun. I'm a big fan of Flannery O'Conner, who wrote stories to expose the reality of sin in the world and the need for a Savior. So this is in her style, but I don't even come close to her skill. Most of it really did happen that way except Rick is really the nicest guy ever, tattoos and all. His wife was worried that we would be freaked out by following him down the country road and I told them that I was thinking it would be a fun mystery/short story. Sorry for the panic.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5670000294691911308.post-55632874850399933912010-07-14T02:16:00.000-07:002010-07-16T01:13:08.542-07:00Google Chrime"Hey, Daniel, come and take a look at this before I post it on my blog. Dad and I are going to Starbucks to check out a couch from Craig's List." Leslie called down the hall as she searched for her keys and shoes. "Daniel."<br /><br />"Coming said the grumpy teen, "Why do I need to look at it before you post it? It's not about me again, is it?" <br /><br />"Well, sort of. It's kind of a mesh of Proverbs 13 and you and life in general. Just read it. If it's okay, click "Publish Post." If you don't like it, save it and I'll re-do it when I come back. We should be right back but we might be a little while if we like the couch."<br /><br />"What? You're looking at another couch? How many are you going to look at?" grumbled Daniel.<br /><br />"It's only been a few and this one is in Kaneohe, only a few minutes away."<br /><br />"Wait. You said you were going to Starbuck's. Why are you going to Starbuck's to get a couch?"<br /><br />"Rick said he'd meet us in the Starbuck's parking lot so that we didn't get lost." <br /><br />"Who's Rick?" asked Daniel, exasperated.<br /><br />"The guy with the couch from Craig's List! Anyway, I don't actually have his address but I know he drives a black '62 Chevy pick-up and he sounds like a really nice guy on the phone. Okay, so Laura's not home. You're in charge. Don't abuse that responsibility. Got it? Love you. Bye."<br /><br />"Okay, whatever, bye."<br /><br />"Read it please!" called Leslie from the back door.<br /><br />"Bye." called Daniel from the kitchen.<br /><br />"Now please!"<br /><br />"Okay, Okay!" Daniel walked over to his mom's chair and recognized immmediately the need for a comfy couch in the living room. He begrudgingly picked up her laptop and sat down. "All right, so what do we have here. "Daniel touched the touchpad to read the laptop screen. "'From the fruit of his lips a man enjoys good things, but the unfaithful have a craving for violence.' What in the world is she talking about? Here we go again..." <br /><br />Dave and Leslie pulled into the Starbuck's parking lot just as it started to rain. They circled a few times but couldn't find the black Chevy. Leslie's phone rang. "Hi Rick, yes, we're here. Oh, now I see you." She smiled as she looked at the face of the man on the phone. He smiled at her and said, "Is that you?" They both laughed and closed their phones. Rick called out of his window, "I live just down the road a bit, follow me." <br /><br />"Okay, great." yelled Dave from the driver's seat.<br /><br />Daniel neared the end of the blog post..."'Righteousness guards the man of integrity, but wickedness overthrows the sinner.' Okay, whatever. I guess it's not too bad. Now what did she tell me to do?" Daniel clicked the button to publish the post and, as always, he then selected "view blog" so he could see the final product. "Hey, I took that picture. Hello sunset, you are looking mighty fine, I must say." Daniel scrolled down to see the rest of the blog and scanned the followers. "Hey, she has a new follower...." <br /><br />"He seems like a nice guy." observed Leslie. "No tattoos, no piercings, just a nice guy who wants to go back home and take care of his parents. Did I tell you his wife is a third grade teacher too?"<br /><br />"How did that come up?" wondered Dave.<br /><br />"I don't know. Oh, wow it's dark back here. There aren't any street lights really. I'm glad he met us at Starbucks."<br /><br />"Let's just hope this couch doesn't have cat scratches all over it." said Dave disapprovingly.<br /><br />"Or that it's not 5 inches too short for you." said Leslie, reprovingly. They turned onto another road. "Okay, there are, like NO houses here. Can I have some of this undeveloped land for a small price?" wondered Leslie aloud.<br /><br /><br />The black Chevy pulled into the grass in front of a house. A middle-aged man wearing a polo shirt, khaki pants and dress shoes got out of the truck, certainly looking like someone who hasn't blended with the local culture and wants to go home to the mainland. Rick walked over to the driver's side and waited for Dave to roll down his window. "Dave, you can back into the carport if you want, to make it easier later."<br /><br />" Okay, thanks." said Dave with a smile. He turned to Leslie, "How did he know my name?"<br /><br />"I must have mentioned it. He's probably in sales or something so he knows how to remember names. Or maybe he's a Christian and Craig's List is his front for getting to know people. Relational evangelism meets the Internet!" quipped Leslie, seriously considering blogging on the idea as a valid ministry option.<br /><br />"Well, he's not wearing a white oxford with a blue name badge so I don't think he's a Mormon missionary. Too bad."<br /><br />"Why?" wondered Leslie. <br /><br />"We'd know that the couch was smoke-free." laughed Dave.<br /><br />"Oh, you're funny. Okay, so you have the money? Please don't haggle him on the price, he said his wife didn't want to negotiate on the price."<br /><br />"Okay, okay. I have the money but do me a favor and leave your purse here so I don't have to drive back to get it when you forget it."<br /><br />"I'll put it under the seat."<br /><br />"Actually,I'll put my phone there, too so it doesn't fall out while I'm carrying the couch...IF I carry the couch, that is."<br /><br />Daniel clicked on the name of the new follower and noticed his name. Rick Hobling. "Ha, Rick! That's funny. I wonder if he's selling a couch on Craig's List." he laughed. Unable to resist the power of the Internet, Daniel clicked on Rick's profile. "Hey, this guy lives in Kaneohe! I'll bet it IS the same guy!" That is SO funny. I gotta call mom and tell her. She would laugh so hard." Daniel dialed Leslie's cell. No answer. Then he dialed Dave's. "Oh well. I guess she'll find out when she gets home." Then, just out of curiousity, Daniel googled Rick Hobling. <br /><br />Dave and Leslie both removed their shoes and entered the house, noticing that the owner, however, did not. <em>Definitely not meshing with life here</em> thought Dave. "The couch is up the stairs and to the right." noted Rick. He motioned for Leslie to go first. Dave followed. The hall was dark. They got to the top of the stairs and turned right. They entered what they assumed was the living room. There was a red carpet, black curtains which were drawn shut, but no couch. They turned around confused and heard Rick lock the front door down the hall. Leslie's stomach sank and Dave grabbed her hand protectively while he reached for his phone. <em>His phone! It was in the car!</em><br /><br />"I want to thank you for coming to take a look at my couch," said Rick. "Unfortunately, it's no longer available." Dave could see that there was no easy way out of this. Though Dave had more leverage, he didn't know what this guy was planning to do. Dave put Leslie behind him. <br /><br />Rick leaned over to look at Leslie, "You have an interesting blog. I've been following you for some time anonymously. But today, I made myself your last follower."<br /><br />Leslie was stunned. What was happening? Who was this guy? Why was he doing this? "Have I done something to...was there something that..." <br /><br />"Oh, don't worry. It's nothing personal.It's just that, well, I can. So I do. You're not the first and you won't be the last. But I WILL be the last follower on your blog, be sure of that." Rick reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rope while at the same time a loud crash was heard down the hall and heavy footsteps were heard on the stairs. Rick turned around and Dave kicked him onto the floor grabbing Leslie's arm and pulling her out of the room just as the police came in wearing bullet-proof vests and pointing guns at Rick. "Mr. Hobling, you're under arrest."<br /><br />Shaking and nearly sick with fear, Leslie moved toward the front door. "How did you ever find us?" she asked one of the policemen.<br /><br />"Mrs. Collins, you should be very thankful for that son of yours. He is a quick thinker. Mr. Hobling left his mark on your blog and Daniel followed it. When he saw Mr. Hobling's own blogs and his other activity on the Internet, Daniel called us right away and, thanks to your cell phones, we were able to find you... Mr. Hobling is wanted in 3 states for murder.<br /><br /><strong><em>"Every prudent man acts out of knowledge, but a fool exposes his folly." Proverbs 13:16 </em></strong>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1