tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36219998784431609882024-02-19T00:00:10.514-06:00Wood Between the WorldsLeahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.comBlogger100125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-14677727735378612352012-10-15T15:41:00.000-05:002012-10-15T15:41:27.270-05:00Why, hello there, blogosphere. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 0px; font-family: Helvetica;"></span><br />
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It's afternoon. I'm sitting in my window sill - you know, the one that has worn spots from being occupied for long hours of study, and the smudges of less-than-clean feet. My window is open, and it's cool and nappish. </div>
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Two weeks ago my family went camping. The gift of long, quiet hours on both trails and lake gave me time for much-needed reflection, thinking through events from this last summer, China, and life now. Those reflections may or may not manifest themselves in posts. </div>
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But now I'm thinking specifically over the past year, my year of "18." There have been so many gifts, so many lessons…so much pain. Humbling me to the lowest valley, and exhilarating to the highest peak. A year of constantly going, going, going, so often feeling I could continue no longer, then uplifted by Grace and given the endurance to keep running. </div>
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The first half of my 18th year I spent working full time. Balancing a job, my family, and other relationships was new for me, and definitely something I had to work hard through. I never felt like there was time enough during the day, always borrowing from Tomorrow's supply. And as I've gone back, reading the oh-so-few posts from this last year, I see the thread of God's teaching to me throughout even the fragmented thoughts from brain to fingertips to virtual paper. </div>
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Following the Piper…for Jingle, realizing the gift my sister is…learning that rest at Jesus's feet is so vitally important, and that peace lies in acceptance. December flew by with my brother's engagement, photoshoots, and a a brief compilation of lessons from the year. </div>
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Then this year to date I have posted 7 times. Yep, 7. Blips on a map…short quotes from conversations maybe? My brother's wedding (it seems as yesterday!) Then as June came, and I began to try to understand pain, process hopes, that I rediscovered the source of strength and joy, and the love like an ocean. An ocean full of tides tearing me away from the comfortable known into the unknown of love unmeasured. </div>
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Drawing me further from my comfort zone was July and China. Students old and new, familiar streets, familiar sounds and smells. The memories, the stories, the answered prayers! Then California, a time of rest and packing up dear friends to move, then coming home, volunteering with kids…and leaving again for New Mexico. Then finally home. Then the restlessness of stillness, and learning to rest, and be content again with the mundane of college and life, and seeing the gifts and the glory of peace. </div>
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My 19th birthday was last week. I am so grateful for my dear family and friends who made the day so special for me. From my mom's chocolate chip pancakes, to epic sibling car convos, birthday wishes via phone calls, texts, and messages, eating frozen yogurt and singing musicals under a bridge with my sister, it was a wonderful day. :)</div>
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And now, here are some things I've been reminded of today….</div>
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- I'm still using the temporary password for logging in for school that I was issued over two months ago.</div>
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- There will always be more homework, but people are what's important.</div>
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- It is definitely possible to analyze a movie for philosophy just by reading reviews and watching youtube clips…and get a good grade.</div>
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- There is no end to what can be cleaned and organized when I'm procrastinating.</div>
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- It's never smart to let a five year old "help" where there is bleach involved. </div>
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- Automatic calendar prompts are life savers…unless your computer is set in a different time zone (I'd still like to know why my time was on EDT…)</div>
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- There's nothing quite as peaceful as riding into the sunset, barefoot and bareback.</div>
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- Exercise balls are far better than desk chairs - they bounce.</div>
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- Camping is still the best family vacation ever.</div>
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- It's never safe for others when I run across the "blackmail" photo file on my computer.</div>
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- "Busy" is relative. </div>
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- God is always faithful.</div>
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Until the next post, whenever that may be!</div>
Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-44633359557369046912012-09-07T22:34:00.000-05:002012-09-07T22:34:14.224-05:00{Night Songs}<br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">I came again last night, to this place. The drive felt like the night: heavy, dark, silent. And I wondered at the purpose of my coming. </span></div>
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Those double glass doors, the mirror in the lobby, both with a haunting reflection of my face…or was the reflection me, and the person walking someone else? But no.</div>
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Whitewashed halls smell of cleaners and distaste, sorrow and loneliness…but overpowering is the silence, broken only by the occasional <i>beep, beep, beep</i> of a nurse's summoning. So subconsciously, because the Music was missing, I was singing. </div>
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<i>Oh, the deep, deep love of Jesus….</i></div>
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She was awake when I arrived. Awake and restless, and murmuring and shaking. </div>
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<i>"This is Leah…I'm here to stay with you tonight. Is there anything I can get for you?"</i></div>
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<i>"No, honey….just turn the music back on."</i></div>
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So singing I continued, ever so softly, through to the end, and stopped. Then, the weak <i>"Will you turn the music back on?"</i></div>
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So singing on, til I forgot the words, and sleep beckoned. But still she bid the music stay. </div>
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And my memory failed, but the Faithful One didn't and I had a hymnal, so there were words still. So the music from A to K and then sleep. Then rousing and L and onward as again, she asked for song. Then sleep, then song. </div>
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<i>Peace be still, peace be still, hear the words come softly. Through the storm, through the night, bringing perfect rest ……. </i></div>
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Then song as it dawned. </div>
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<i>The sun comes up, it's a new day dawning…it's time to sing your song again. Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me, let me be singing 'til the evening comes....</i></div>
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<i> </i>Because every day is a time for His songs. And I wonder if this is what Heaven is like, and if music is the link between the beings in Heaven and the earth-dwellers. </div>
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Then with sunlight streaming 7 she awoke again, for the morning time. <i>Did you hear the music last night? </i></div>
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Yes…and so that was my purpose, to bring music…and so peace. And I am a reflection, of the One Who Is, the Music Maker. And my heart burns, and I'm humbled, because He can use even the least of these as an instrument for good.</div>
</span>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-55201832958429143972012-06-18T09:32:00.000-05:002012-06-18T09:32:02.912-05:00musings on joy and strength<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">I've been reading Nehemiah these last few days. This morning I was reading in chapter 8. In chapters 6 and 7, the wall was finished, the list of the returned exiles was made, and the totals of the people and gifts were counted. As chapter 8 begins, the people are gathered, and the Law of Moses is read to the assembly. Picking up in chapter 8 verse 9, it says,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">"And Nehemiah, who was the governor, and Ezra the priest and scribe, and the Levites who taught the people said to the people, "This day is holy to the Lord your God; do not mourn or weep." For all the people wept as they heard the words of the Law. Then he said to them, "Go your way. Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to anyone who has nothing ready, for this day is holy to our Lord. And do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength." So the Levites calmed all the people, saying, "Be quiet, for this day is holy; do not be grieved." And all the people went their way to eat and drink and to send portions and to make great rejoicing, because they had understood the words that were declared to them." </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">Obviously there is a LOT here to look at, but the part that really jumped out at me was the latter part of verse 10: "And do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength." </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">These people realized the gravity of the law, and what was required of them, and wept. But they were instructed to not be grieved. To not weep. For in the joy of the Lord was their strength.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">I never really thought about joy being strength. Although I knew there was a difference, subconsciously I equated joy with happiness. Something that passes with change, something without power. But in this true joy is strength. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">John Wesley in his Explanatory Notes expounds on this joy: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"> "Rejoicing in God in serving him with cheerfulness, and thankfulness, which is your duty always. But now especially, [he] will give you that strength both of mind and body which you greatly need, both to perform all the duties required of you, and to oppose all the designs of your enemies."</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">We have things required of us. There are commands for us to follow, commands that in ourselves we are incapable of following. But our strength consists in joy in the Lord. The better we understand God's word, the more we know Him, the more we find comfort...and strength. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"> So my focus today, and every day should be not on requirements, on lists; not on trying in my own strength. My focus should be on a relationship with Christ, and His word, for in that will I find the joy and strength to obey. </span>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-91421275871483540182012-06-14T08:54:00.002-05:002012-06-14T08:55:48.162-05:00{musings}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">The beach has always held a certain fascination for me. The salt
smell, constant wind-drawn waves, the enormity...the way the roar of the
crashing surf somehow creates a sense of perfect peace, of soothing, of
renewing…the way it makes me feel so small and insignificant. And I always feel
this so much more when the surf is high…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">…And more so with riptides.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">That strong channel flowing seaward from near the shore, its
beginning disguised in the surf line. The thing feared by beginner and seasoned
swimmers alike. Interestingly, though, the main danger is not in the tide
itself – a rip tide’s main power is close to the surface, and does not actually
pull people under; it merely drags an object along until it deposits the object
in calm deeper waters. The danger lies in being knocked over by the waves, then
unable to surface as the tide draws a person deeper, or in an exhausting escape
attempt of the swimmer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">It’s always a disturbing feeling to be pummeled by sand and
waves while already under water, twisting, and with nothing to grasp and
resurface. But at the same time, it’s an awe-striking feeling – a feeling of
insignificance – that something is so powerful to toss a body like nothing more
than a bit of seaweed. This ocean that overwhelms people and minute objects
with equal ease…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">And I think of the hymn that compares Christ’s love to an ocean.
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">Oh, the
deep, deep love of Jesus,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">Vast,
unmeasured, boundless, free,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">Rolling as a
mighty ocean<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">In its
fullness over me.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">Underneath
me, all around me<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">Is the
fullness of Thy love.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">Leading
onward, leading homeward,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">To Thy
glorious rest above.</span></i><span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">Deep love…not shallow. Not safe love. Deep, and boundless…free,
unrestrained, a mighty ocean of love. The song doesn’t say the love flows by,
in nice pristine streams whenever you’re interested in acquiring some. It rolls
over, overwhelming by its fullness over, underneath, and all around, and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">we never see an end to it.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">And if His love is like an ocean, life must be like the crashing
waves and rip tides, because things pummel, twist, and disorient, dragging away
from goals, plans, and ideas into unknown waters. Waters we would never venture
into of our own accord. If so, then, the danger isn’t in the tide – not in the
events, or tears, or pain – the danger is in fighting it. In exhausting
ourselves in our own efforts to escape. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">And if waves and tides have so much power, how much more does
the God of the universe have the power to hold us gently, drawing us by life
tides into the calm of His peace? If He
indeed has a perfect plan, are not these waves simply bringing us to our knees
before our Creator, and the tides pulling us into His presence? Tearing us out
of our comfort zone into places where we can only live through Him who
strengthens us? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13pt;">And they lead us to rest….in His love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-39376983566029716522012-05-30T10:03:00.001-05:002012-05-30T10:03:15.455-05:00Congratulations, Joshua and Anna!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Congratulations to my brother, Joshua, and to his bride Anna! It was exciting to see the culmanation of all the phone conversations and chaperoning. :) </div>
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<a href="http://www.longaline.blogspot.com/">Josh</a>y, it seems like yesterday when we were coming up with crazy ideas and fun. Those times when we'd sing at the top of our lungs, gardening on a "deserted island" [in the front yard], or randomly decide to ride a neighbor's (untrained) horse. I wouldn't trade having you as a brother or our adventures for anything. I'm excited to watch you and Anna's adventure now, as y'all spend your lives together.</div>
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Anna, I haven't know you nearly as long, but have enjoyed your friendship for the time that I have. I know everyone has told Joshua what a gift he's getting, and I'm sure you know that goes both ways. ;) Not only are you getting one of the best guys in the world, you're now married to my best friend. Take good care of him! :)</div>
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May God richly bless your marriage!</div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-53442558776058335352012-02-19T20:46:00.001-06:002012-02-19T20:46:58.094-06:00{a brother memory}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">He's dirty and muddy and has ripped shorts and mismatched shoes, the crocs too large and words too old for seven years…and it has rained puddles into the ground. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><div style="text-align: center;">And I have lists that won't wait and goal deadlines penned to Time and self-imposed perfectionism and mud-free clothes...</div></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><div style="text-align: center;">And he's puddle hopping, and wants me to too.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgoBBkNUhbWHfaTPaEPJbKXjzN6Y_h9j2bYJ6RxAF7e6gwWIaOqelyiSk7WS_p3VFzo14GV1A26tRLYAfN0AgkeCzjw8acf0H1WdiQzfmfGkk29a0q68D2HWdSPPGpDA_wsWVVyiGgxMPF/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-02-19+at+8.31.30+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgoBBkNUhbWHfaTPaEPJbKXjzN6Y_h9j2bYJ6RxAF7e6gwWIaOqelyiSk7WS_p3VFzo14GV1A26tRLYAfN0AgkeCzjw8acf0H1WdiQzfmfGkk29a0q68D2HWdSPPGpDA_wsWVVyiGgxMPF/s400/Screen+Shot+2012-02-19+at+8.31.30+PM.png" width="308" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><div style="text-align: center;"> Sweet smiles with shoes squelching mud and imprinting memories on Time's face. It doesn't matter that the the rain lull is brief and lists must wait and he can't clear some puddles and water will splash, because mud-wet clothes will wash and lists will lengthen and more rains always come.</div></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><div style="text-align: center;">So we hop puddles. And I shorten my strides and he stretches his, because we're holding hands and soon he'll be all grown up, and baby brother hands will be man-hands that help me. And we step footprints in the mud, and engrave memories into Time forever, because though the days drag the years fly and memories are treasures. </div></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><div style="text-align: center;">And so together we hop puddles…</div></div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-39785406761694337522012-01-05T22:09:00.000-06:002012-01-05T22:09:34.629-06:00{during a conversation about amounts of sleep}Me: "I wonder how much sleep is really necessary to have human maximum function ability."<br />
<br />
Rachel: "I'm not sure... It would be really nice if people could sleep like they drink espresso. Just a little bit is needed, but it goes a long way..."Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-83208261786612221582011-12-31T23:20:00.000-06:002011-12-31T23:20:40.444-06:0011 Lessons from 2011<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Top 11 Lessons of 2011</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">11. When talking to someone on the phone, it is never safe to assume that you hear correctly. Ask them to spell their location so that it is correct before writing it down for someone else who will know what it was supposed to be. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">10. Sleep, however inconvenient, is actually still necessary to life.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">9. A GPS thinks it is smarter than it actually is: it tells you to exit a perfectly good road that will take you the right direction. As soon as you get on a major road that has signs pointing to the next location, you should turn the GPS off until the next time you get lost. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">8. People are generally not capable of making good decisions after 11pm. </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">7. Planning is wonderful…as long as you're willing to adapt to whatever comes your way. A typhoon, for example.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">6. Good planners make life simpler, not more complicated.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">5. Other people will come and go through life. Family is forever, and siblings really can be best friends.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">4. Life is not about the situations that challenge you, it's about how you respond to those challenges - and how you change.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">3. There's the pain of healing, the pain of staying the same and the pain of getting worse. You pick your pain.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">2. God really does work miracles, and he works the most often when you least expect it.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">1. There is no need to ever be dismayed; God will strengthen, help, and uphold me with His righteous right hand. (Is. 41:10)</div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-3908652388341047472011-12-26T16:23:00.000-06:002011-12-26T16:23:10.524-06:00{attention pacifists}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd never expect it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">-Jack Handey</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_yFPfZsex6mzJnM0ecD0DZShw0y_ZbVKLx6TVE5SUemHwUdv3xFiAbl8yzlvFm7ezkpeueRtjfcdE6k9VkoaW5R287Qi2XNs5gySS4z55aQawmp1pKK8pLFu3U107C3mLaK1V1hxzFE-C/s1600/DSC_0673.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_yFPfZsex6mzJnM0ecD0DZShw0y_ZbVKLx6TVE5SUemHwUdv3xFiAbl8yzlvFm7ezkpeueRtjfcdE6k9VkoaW5R287Qi2XNs5gySS4z55aQawmp1pKK8pLFu3U107C3mLaK1V1hxzFE-C/s400/DSC_0673.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmggJ7NhLVyabuOC1JOAlTvOqn27NH9iZtximdrLtNTi7SFDf5vThQmm06zSoeS0SvcmWWR4cjgXqdjcGAF8Cjrl9Y6_zbrbz5jFmPdb6-Vk2FXbGB4F2DnXp7gAB81Si8V570BUdA3gF/s1600/DSC_0675.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmggJ7NhLVyabuOC1JOAlTvOqn27NH9iZtximdrLtNTi7SFDf5vThQmm06zSoeS0SvcmWWR4cjgXqdjcGAF8Cjrl9Y6_zbrbz5jFmPdb6-Vk2FXbGB4F2DnXp7gAB81Si8V570BUdA3gF/s400/DSC_0675.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAOjVEuajtndi0Nu45DupPIxe1q7hThT_S_c7BAc4vfh7N4ab0CQUcAWwYMeTdhyphenhyphen8oO-OrHfIAyCMLF0N8BtOjpqbPofI3tFoh3GqA7Roeoh7r-pORpTsF3G3z3lbWYlUL_tSYBEJ1u0BB/s1600/DSC_0792.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAOjVEuajtndi0Nu45DupPIxe1q7hThT_S_c7BAc4vfh7N4ab0CQUcAWwYMeTdhyphenhyphen8oO-OrHfIAyCMLF0N8BtOjpqbPofI3tFoh3GqA7Roeoh7r-pORpTsF3G3z3lbWYlUL_tSYBEJ1u0BB/s400/DSC_0792.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIX9omSKlxZRfoD-_KB52OoASR0_9FfMBnmErkkmC_VN5dIuRCx_4RTeUdu0dtNVArgcEKiI6KlqM7ifMdpgtdDUHi1BLP3Sq0d2aNzEIzlVI6xecLyCQjAW0HIwaHWjaNe7R_73No8Gyo/s1600/DSC_0855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIX9omSKlxZRfoD-_KB52OoASR0_9FfMBnmErkkmC_VN5dIuRCx_4RTeUdu0dtNVArgcEKiI6KlqM7ifMdpgtdDUHi1BLP3Sq0d2aNzEIzlVI6xecLyCQjAW0HIwaHWjaNe7R_73No8Gyo/s400/DSC_0855.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWezUD0ZpxbGPKTgxDQi5CKapiIQ_A-l5bEYLRSF-wCMOqmvLSELWcRQp6pEGpKoIaF1rqiMfntd2IIZ7o-xpP7VS49GVhB-tCWDqNTrKYUKoSygoP1qRsb6IatdIiwvQaE-SHVExQm1Si/s1600/DSC_0954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWezUD0ZpxbGPKTgxDQi5CKapiIQ_A-l5bEYLRSF-wCMOqmvLSELWcRQp6pEGpKoIaF1rqiMfntd2IIZ7o-xpP7VS49GVhB-tCWDqNTrKYUKoSygoP1qRsb6IatdIiwvQaE-SHVExQm1Si/s400/DSC_0954.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">*The air soft bullet proof vests, as well as the leather handgun holsters, magazine cases, and belts were made by Allen Penney. I highly recommend his work, and if anyone is interested in purchasing contact me and I will refer you on to him.</span></div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-7298513718104599342011-12-22T12:20:00.001-06:002011-12-22T12:20:00.626-06:00{the solution to incompetence}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">All of man's misfortune comes from one thing, </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">which is not knowing how to sit quietly in a room.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">-Blaise Pascal</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkfpRGj4xEjFyq4Fg70ftuwOtBcsGwtXQPADu7DdOuohzNVUJTPX-Adn03qCNYF4iBc3lpmlQP04RmI8UO0ig3SqITHeLyxWL_BdjWqAr-dxSrYBust-0OpsGfmfYZiZHhzLP_YTKlEiYV/s1600/20111216_LRH_01226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkfpRGj4xEjFyq4Fg70ftuwOtBcsGwtXQPADu7DdOuohzNVUJTPX-Adn03qCNYF4iBc3lpmlQP04RmI8UO0ig3SqITHeLyxWL_BdjWqAr-dxSrYBust-0OpsGfmfYZiZHhzLP_YTKlEiYV/s400/20111216_LRH_01226.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc0803hIHSY8YrWDvDTB3c0o6gxBeuT1mR0Sr7_vADhXkUh1nAaefFXKzEGt1i-SP3gSFciEbFKVCXu86XfyKd-NL-2i5A3m2Ne46PbKZP8EOAF50bl0U-eacZnUL8UiNYpfOpzJ4TmJWC/s1600/20111216_LRH_01231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc0803hIHSY8YrWDvDTB3c0o6gxBeuT1mR0Sr7_vADhXkUh1nAaefFXKzEGt1i-SP3gSFciEbFKVCXu86XfyKd-NL-2i5A3m2Ne46PbKZP8EOAF50bl0U-eacZnUL8UiNYpfOpzJ4TmJWC/s400/20111216_LRH_01231.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCS0ZHdbRxeGxBXoZAc8rLEpylIx-iiOK4SZXZTN_KJQlNPZwtI5HhMNWhurWf890fthLqIkbgAFmikZZAR1z_Ix1j3X58ZzNoXaa_cY9TRvCdwNC_tfsfAEBYRpVzSVFFCITD0Ma10qRa/s1600/20111216_LRH_01235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCS0ZHdbRxeGxBXoZAc8rLEpylIx-iiOK4SZXZTN_KJQlNPZwtI5HhMNWhurWf890fthLqIkbgAFmikZZAR1z_Ix1j3X58ZzNoXaa_cY9TRvCdwNC_tfsfAEBYRpVzSVFFCITD0Ma10qRa/s400/20111216_LRH_01235.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreDkhrOyBcv8oJm-KYpOVG-zHfX0nwbASJXm_6HZyNkbTXxWvlIaCGt_kF8KHWE8ftKqNEz1N1YK8FAaXXYLZ6qQE8aJIpsC1ZIl-SRzJc9EummO-L87s-fzJwiL5vdMbBtS953LV1yYC/s1600/20111216_LRH_01238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreDkhrOyBcv8oJm-KYpOVG-zHfX0nwbASJXm_6HZyNkbTXxWvlIaCGt_kF8KHWE8ftKqNEz1N1YK8FAaXXYLZ6qQE8aJIpsC1ZIl-SRzJc9EummO-L87s-fzJwiL5vdMbBtS953LV1yYC/s400/20111216_LRH_01238.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-33953388126247274802011-12-21T22:06:00.000-06:002011-12-21T22:06:24.531-06:00After 15 months...<div style="text-align: center;">...last Friday, my big brother got engaged. :) </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWm2_NBPMWWZuv5vhHNn3SMYG2b0Y5Kuet9a_u-rUoHPixJxZ7sXvoV__BmIOJm3bNxhOPsXKsN66imLfTgSOohf55Jg9YmEs05fBvamcPMMvXVZRzM75ZRFlShZNrg6chTkILEPfg_hUh/s1600/20111216_LRH_01427.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWm2_NBPMWWZuv5vhHNn3SMYG2b0Y5Kuet9a_u-rUoHPixJxZ7sXvoV__BmIOJm3bNxhOPsXKsN66imLfTgSOohf55Jg9YmEs05fBvamcPMMvXVZRzM75ZRFlShZNrg6chTkILEPfg_hUh/s400/20111216_LRH_01427.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi71D2fRh6BVWIOGCW-X0s1DrgJ9f0Fa1HMrDzeWNJfTK-yiupHUGpGzVKbrT4lwgfKmPl7hQQpFdPT63A5a7Wc9kcJ9Ch5-qCW7GNNB6_v9RVE9NR94dHfv_HwFbbNKq86PY8UN8x79bns/s1600/20111216_LRH_01475.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi71D2fRh6BVWIOGCW-X0s1DrgJ9f0Fa1HMrDzeWNJfTK-yiupHUGpGzVKbrT4lwgfKmPl7hQQpFdPT63A5a7Wc9kcJ9Ch5-qCW7GNNB6_v9RVE9NR94dHfv_HwFbbNKq86PY8UN8x79bns/s400/20111216_LRH_01475.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5wkWNBF1gTQNM3tUB_G58PVnY2AdEfe8NVtwLHxQAquRq54TuZkuTkRDHrTV1rjvHyMOpV6gl3RKY9cVK0mBnEOJYVdwQVB8TytQ4HOcYk9N4P4tPYm7Vcd4RxnDl7UQHaR0IiRhqgUc/s1600/20111216_LRH_01478.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5wkWNBF1gTQNM3tUB_G58PVnY2AdEfe8NVtwLHxQAquRq54TuZkuTkRDHrTV1rjvHyMOpV6gl3RKY9cVK0mBnEOJYVdwQVB8TytQ4HOcYk9N4P4tPYm7Vcd4RxnDl7UQHaR0IiRhqgUc/s400/20111216_LRH_01478.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblP70eqlieB1XeLYQR5jPR7uPPryBCxmIvSfEs-csml_zA4MGkROiE1L4luY8I-RMsr0pt1wxpYt3SVPUMbYT0r8soFEa95Cww-QRUJQfudmtyaQd_cpgGzuFN6qzJUTpPvvluoTcPmKE/s1600/20111216_LRH_01490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblP70eqlieB1XeLYQR5jPR7uPPryBCxmIvSfEs-csml_zA4MGkROiE1L4luY8I-RMsr0pt1wxpYt3SVPUMbYT0r8soFEa95Cww-QRUJQfudmtyaQd_cpgGzuFN6qzJUTpPvvluoTcPmKE/s400/20111216_LRH_01490.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">He sang her a song, asked her a question, and she said...YES! :)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">O give thanks to the LORD, call upon His name; make known His deeds among the peoples. Sing to Him, sing praises to Him; speak of all His wonders.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-1 Chronicles 16:8-9</div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-2446810594414147432011-12-06T07:29:00.000-06:002011-12-06T07:29:52.511-06:00{one of those moments that makes babysitting worthwhile}Merry's bedtime prayer:<br />
<br />
"Dear God, please, please help us obey Miss Leah. She has it pretty rough...four of us, and only one of her! Help us listen to her and not fight with each other...and help the dogs not fight either."Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-48703351557398806562011-11-29T22:02:00.000-06:002011-11-29T22:02:56.082-06:00For Jingle :)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNsQGYIfRABJkPE4esiAi1IRc33n1gkPx1vtL2TFtlUzeyr4YqBAMKY-eaiHqtOQsTMGMKEbcjZMlrP_H92azxQKFmUzFnR1ohbcxF4LXzLBOZO7YGRDWCdpQGvwpwq4zQow_q0HxWWix/s1600/Horvath_family-2011_S-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNsQGYIfRABJkPE4esiAi1IRc33n1gkPx1vtL2TFtlUzeyr4YqBAMKY-eaiHqtOQsTMGMKEbcjZMlrP_H92azxQKFmUzFnR1ohbcxF4LXzLBOZO7YGRDWCdpQGvwpwq4zQow_q0HxWWix/s400/Horvath_family-2011_S-6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I love the talks we have. I love that you can finish my sentences half of the time, and the other half you have no idea what I'm trying to say. Our miscommunications are hysterical. Our memories...memorable, to say the least. :) Our adventures epic. Thanks for talking to me, laughing at my corny jokes, tolerating me when I'm not the nicest person to be around. Thanks for hanging up my towel in the bathroom when I forget. Thanks for letting me bounce on your bed when you're half asleep and talk to you. Thanks for telling me what to buy and not to buy when we're shopping, telling me what to wear, and for knowing where things in the grocery store are when I have no idea where to look. Thanks for being brutally honest with me, and expecting me to do the same. Thanks for hanging out with me, singing musicals with me, supervising when I'm 'cleaning' my room. Thanks for praying for me, and writing notes for me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thank you for being the best friend and little sister I could ask for. You're awesome.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">{photo credit - <a href="http://photosbyzac.blogspot.com/">Zac Foreman</a> }</span></div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-36670904804500830822011-11-22T18:43:00.000-06:002011-11-22T18:43:19.379-06:00I wonder...If vegetarians eat vegetables, what do humanitarians eat?Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-27198524304230587772011-11-17T21:53:00.000-06:002011-11-17T21:53:46.984-06:00<div>There is no music during a musical rest, but the rest is part of the making of the music. In the melody of our life, the music is separated here and there by rests. During those rests, we foolishly believe we have come to the end of the song. God sends us times of forced leisure by allowing sickness, disappointed plans, and frustrated efforts. He brings a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives, and we lament that our voices must be silent. We grieve that our part is missing in the music that continually rises to the ear of our Creator. Yet how does a musician read the rest? He counts the break with unwavering precision and plays his next note with confidence, as if no pause were ever there.<br />
God does not write the music of our lives without a plan. Our part is to learn the tune and not be discouraged during the rests. They are not to be slurred over or omitted, nor used to destroy the melody or to change the key. If we will only look up, God Himself will count the time for us. With our eyes on Him, our next note will be full and clear. If we sorrowfully say to ourselves, “There is no music in a rest,” let us not forget that the rest is part of the making of the music. The process is often slow and painful in this life, yet how patiently God works to teach us! And how long He waits for us to learn the lesson!<br />
~John Ruskin</div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-80200143118164004572011-11-11T16:24:00.000-06:002011-11-11T16:24:34.976-06:00Coffee<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgZNN7QL4eL6-mStood9Jr8VP8A8pH5Hv1qrzrygsvfMTsgm-XyllAb_Jn5kOOjSbeOeS5FEBJeRvNCY6TkZIQIxKqYd9KBmZk1FirP2QrZsvBGPkoqnke17vXxtRrcPQ2X2mErM0OztEB/s1600/20111107_LRH_00080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgZNN7QL4eL6-mStood9Jr8VP8A8pH5Hv1qrzrygsvfMTsgm-XyllAb_Jn5kOOjSbeOeS5FEBJeRvNCY6TkZIQIxKqYd9KBmZk1FirP2QrZsvBGPkoqnke17vXxtRrcPQ2X2mErM0OztEB/s400/20111107_LRH_00080.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">One of the easiest assignments in the world. Not to mention the fact that by the end of the shoot my hands smelled totally awesome. There's still a faint scent of coffee in the room. </div><div style="text-align: center;">{Btw, playing with an off camera flash is way more fun with inanimate objects than people. They don't complain about the flash being too bright, or strobe lighting...or being moved around over nine thousand times. } </div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-31196778210998761272011-11-04T23:42:00.000-05:002011-11-04T23:42:55.939-05:00In Acceptance Lies Peace<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">He said, "I will forget the dying faces;<br />
The empty places,<br />
They shall be filed again.<br />
O voices moaning deep within me, cease,"<br />
But vain the word; vain, vain:<br />
Not in forgetting lieth peace. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">He said, "I will crowd action upon action,<br />
The strife of faction shall stir me and sustain;<br />
O tears that drown the fire of manhood, cease."<br />
But vain the word; vain, vain:<br />
Not in endeavor lieth peace.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">He said, "I will withdraw me and be quiet,<br />
Why meddle in life's riot?<br />
Shut be my door to pain.<br />
Desire, thou dost befool me, thou shalt cease."<br />
Not in aloofness lieth peace.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">He said, "I will submit; I am defeated.<br />
God hath depleted My life of its rich gain.<br />
O futile murmurings, why will ye not cease?"<br />
But vain the word; vain, vain:<br />
Not in submission lieth peace.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">He said, "I will accept the breaking sorrow<br />
Which God tomorrow will to His Son explain."<br />
Then did the turmoil deep within him cease.<br />
Not vain the word, not vain;<br />
For in Acceptance lieth peace.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> -Amy Carmichael</span></span></div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-53334209245040645942011-10-20T07:50:00.000-05:002011-10-20T07:50:03.946-05:00{following the Piper again}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVxOuFL9mI8zD9q4kpEkVmdd3HfGVHrg6ErpjrQosoOiu__b1EVSNmcJS6x54UjDFNrumrlgc8pa8DvviYETFIXYL9motnlNUciaNXbkJY1xq3xDvK9lprMZ5R0ta6LeOwu2M2mXrQoKrp/s1600/DSC_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400px" rda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVxOuFL9mI8zD9q4kpEkVmdd3HfGVHrg6ErpjrQosoOiu__b1EVSNmcJS6x54UjDFNrumrlgc8pa8DvviYETFIXYL9motnlNUciaNXbkJY1xq3xDvK9lprMZ5R0ta6LeOwu2M2mXrQoKrp/s400/DSC_0001.JPG" width="265px" /></a></div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-60898615416691443302011-09-30T03:32:00.001-05:002011-09-30T03:32:00.653-05:00Joshua 'n Anna<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">A little over a year ago, the Courter asked the Penney if she would be courted. She said she would.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">They're still changing together, and thought that pictures would be a good idea. So we did a shoot, and here are a few photos.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">9.10.11</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQH0fXT8pVQAfRcNvL1lmbBpmch1aU16ZyRBgOb1vnt7glg__dcA_kJ8xEqZgCvrZeUEqGXVJvf6NQBzRHxY8d3HlJpZ8-tge2aL2XjFZwhyYnFClswss29dldkbGtq1u2MQwJuH50Ut0P/s1600/DSC_0065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265px" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQH0fXT8pVQAfRcNvL1lmbBpmch1aU16ZyRBgOb1vnt7glg__dcA_kJ8xEqZgCvrZeUEqGXVJvf6NQBzRHxY8d3HlJpZ8-tge2aL2XjFZwhyYnFClswss29dldkbGtq1u2MQwJuH50Ut0P/s400/DSC_0065.jpg" width="400px" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6b7bmt3_skocb4CUG9HrRc-ovMyw3Hj5bMWwl28ZVmHxNyIW3uG06BFLZsuLQhkGNNEoUyB44txSxf6f0wFECHWfu_3OMn_RreSSCgzgl8vrpjRBW2JfvxGFpjhZ2HNHPsE1P7vyvH6m/s1600/DSC_0115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265px" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6b7bmt3_skocb4CUG9HrRc-ovMyw3Hj5bMWwl28ZVmHxNyIW3uG06BFLZsuLQhkGNNEoUyB44txSxf6f0wFECHWfu_3OMn_RreSSCgzgl8vrpjRBW2JfvxGFpjhZ2HNHPsE1P7vyvH6m/s400/DSC_0115.jpg" width="400px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0vnHKuFUJiHTM9TzaH-lmx8qi4IB6vMDubCTVRIM5A_FLAyvf3YLedJAkO6Q4ms3V_dU4EH9VbNLZDA2RMlVkYQ76RyEAm9TBpenq-hbACOd_3jD7fRUj0HnRXAHOsMgruaxcxQR8yQOt/s1600/DSC_0132.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265px" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0vnHKuFUJiHTM9TzaH-lmx8qi4IB6vMDubCTVRIM5A_FLAyvf3YLedJAkO6Q4ms3V_dU4EH9VbNLZDA2RMlVkYQ76RyEAm9TBpenq-hbACOd_3jD7fRUj0HnRXAHOsMgruaxcxQR8yQOt/s400/DSC_0132.jpg" width="400px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXax1zQXMwuBQV00pHWBCOmRrl_c1xRcekAgXIEJ-c3DWcnv82rmlwuIL1Zbn3mR0Zb5X2Jv9KEVhBzHEROO86T0H76rr9KSMt51XPSnwt0Ug1AoDPfoxamBvcoCHWaRJnDmxtXlY3ClEX/s1600/DSC_0265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400px" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXax1zQXMwuBQV00pHWBCOmRrl_c1xRcekAgXIEJ-c3DWcnv82rmlwuIL1Zbn3mR0Zb5X2Jv9KEVhBzHEROO86T0H76rr9KSMt51XPSnwt0Ug1AoDPfoxamBvcoCHWaRJnDmxtXlY3ClEX/s400/DSC_0265.jpg" width="261px" /></a></div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-32109619609837828072011-09-28T20:46:00.001-05:002011-09-28T20:47:57.293-05:00{because there's a purpose}<div></div><div style="text-align: center;">I was sitting there, replaying a scene; the conversation clear, sight vivid. I wished I would have acted more. Pretended that things didn't hurt, that there wasn't pain in the rejection. Life seems easier with unpenatrable walls. Steel armor to block out wounds. So I responded wrongly, in anger, to hide the truth. I failed to love.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I struggle with the pain, the knowledge that I'm vulnerable. </div><div style="text-align: center;">With worsening wounds. With wondering why. </div><div style="text-align: center;">With burning scars.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Then, a Voice, clear and True, spoke its way into my thoughts. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>I have scars too.</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The Perfect One, the One who loves, has scars. Scars that we've given Him.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I aruged back. <em>I know You have scars. But Yours have purpose, and a meaning for us. My scars are deep, purposeless...they have names, stories, and their own power of torture. </em></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Love spoke truth again. <em>My Scars are deeper than you can imagine. Each scar has a name...one of them has your name. But I loved you anyways. I loved you when you hated Me, when you ran from Me. When you wounded Me. </em><br />
<em>My Child, I'm giving you the gift of scars. You can allow them to torture you, or they can be a reminder...a reminder to love.</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">These scars. Everyone has them. Some are large, tell tale of a painful injury or accident. Others are small, barely visible, but deep. Those are often the ones that remain the longest. </div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">I often wondered what the purpose was of scars. It seemed for a long time that scars were just a reminder of something I wanted to forget. But I think now I know.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The purpose of the scars is reminder...reminder to love.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The word scar was derived from the Greek word schara, meaning place of fire. The scars we bear remind of times of fires, fires that everyone experiences. According to the American Academy of Dermatology, no scar can be completely removed. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Not ever.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">They're there as reminders to love. But a gift?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Have you not asked for Me to make you more like Myself? Will you reject the journey I'm bringing you on because it's painful? Will you accept the gift of being more like Me?</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want desperately to remember. To love. To accept scars as gifts. To be more like Him.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Show me your hands. Do they have scars from giving? Show me your feet. Are they wounded in service? Show me your heart. Have you left a place for divine love? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">~F. J. Sheen</span></div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-47989811205090338622011-09-13T07:45:00.000-05:002011-09-13T07:45:12.619-05:00{on walking into the kitchen before I fully awoke}<div style="text-align: center;">"How did the unwashed dishes multiply since 10am last night?"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">If I wasn't going to work, I would go back to bed. The good thing is, I'm not driving our carpool to work today. That small fact will most likely save the lives of at least four other people. Somehow.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm think I'm running late...or early...</div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-67928683881876468802011-09-05T20:26:00.000-05:002011-09-05T20:26:32.529-05:00Reflections of sorts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLg0Xu1a1EJRdbA2yu6qSTO2j1aOTiNMu6QMJYfpk1FaNUuYu8FVmE89YoWxr6YG5kxTXCs4WnFFzf6fjsD5PByuipWdwlNPUsRoT5ZikO927oD6NtH8DqjBQJBMZRA2e1dqFsRGMf_Df4/s1600/DSC_0484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLg0Xu1a1EJRdbA2yu6qSTO2j1aOTiNMu6QMJYfpk1FaNUuYu8FVmE89YoWxr6YG5kxTXCs4WnFFzf6fjsD5PByuipWdwlNPUsRoT5ZikO927oD6NtH8DqjBQJBMZRA2e1dqFsRGMf_Df4/s400/DSC_0484.jpg" width="400px" xaa="true" /></a></div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-63820105663687748252011-09-01T16:23:00.000-05:002011-09-01T16:23:18.338-05:00{my thoughts exactly}<div style="text-align: center;">"Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appreared to them to be otherwise."</div><div style="text-align: center;">~the Duchess</div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-83012879299886742011-08-24T21:32:00.000-05:002011-08-24T21:32:24.862-05:00C. H. Spurgeon; Evening, August 24<div style="text-align: center;">"If fire break out, and catch in thorns, so that the stacks of corn, or the standing corn, or the field, be consumed therewith; he that kindled the fire shall surely make restitution."—Exodus 22:6.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">But what restitution can he make who casts abroad the fire-brands of error, or the coals of lasciviousness, and sets men's souls on a blaze with the fire of hell? The guilt is beyond estimate, and the result is irretrievable. If such an offender be forgiven, what grief it will cause him in the retrospect, since he cannot undo the mischief which he has done! An ill example may kindle a flame which years of amended character cannot quench. To burn the food of man is bad enough, but how much worse to destroy the soul! It may be useful to us to reflect how far we may have been guilty in the past, and to enquire whether, even in the present, there may not be evil in us which has a tendency to bring damage to the souls of our relatives, friends, or neighbours.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The fire of strife is a terrible evil when it breaks out in a Christian church. Where converts were multiplied, and God was glorified, jealousy and envy do the devil's work most effectually. Where the golden grain was being housed, to reward the toil of the great Boaz, the fire of enmity comes in and leaves little else but smoke and a heap of blackness. Woe unto those by whom offences come. May they never come through us, for although we cannot make restitution, we shall certainly be the chief sufferers if we are the chief offenders. Those who feed the fire deserve just censure, but he who first kindles it is most to blame. Discord usually takes first hold upon the thorns; it is nurtured among the hypocrites and base professors in the church, and away it goes among the righteous, blown by the winds of hell, and no one knows where it may end. O Thou Lord and giver of peace, make us peacemakers, and never let us aid and abet the men of strife, or even unintentionally cause the least division among Thy people.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><span style="font-size: xx-small;">From Spurgeon's <em>Morning and Evening</em></span>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3621999878443160988.post-41899048183267724032011-08-22T21:06:00.000-05:002011-08-22T21:06:51.249-05:009:05pm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">{what goes through an ADD person's mind in the space of about 20 minutes...or is it time span? I'm not sure. Which reminds me...}</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Today began the second week of being back to work after being gone for a month. From the looks of things, this will be another 40+ hour week. And somehow, I have a blister already, on my left pinky. This is odd for two reasons: 1, I'm right-handed; 2, it's my PINKY! How do you get a blister there? <br />
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<div>At work last week, I forgot to bring silverware for lunch. I had pasta, which wasn't really an eat-with-your-fingers type lunch. After scrounging around the cabinets, all I found was plastic knives. So, I put my chopstick training to good use. I actually think that chopsticks with a serrated edge would be a fabulous invention. Not only would you be able to eat your food, you'd be able to cut it as well. Just a thought. Anyways, the two knife idea worked fabulously. But I still brought silverware the next day.</div><div> </div>I love my job. It's wonderful manual labor. The only thing I don't really like is the whole items-being-backordered thing, then the catch up process after we get in the shipping supplies and/or items to ship. Last week we ran out of a certain kind of sign box. This is our biggest box, and is custom made. After several days of allowing the orders to back up, we finally got the boxes today, an hour and a half before quitting time, and in time to run out of 9x4 blue magnets. Not only that, but the phone/computer line was broken, so there was no internet, which means that the packages can't be labeled using FedEx's handy dandy system. Everything will have to be entered in by hand until the phone line is fixed. The first good thing is that that’s not my job. The second good thing was that I got my paycheck from last week, which made me immensely grateful to have a job, despite the glitches in the system. All things considered, I have a lot to be thankful for. :)<br />
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I've been thinking a lot about different things since coming home from China, and re-evaluating a lot of goals. I've been thinking a lot about this quote shared in church last Sunday:<br />
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"Ambitions for self may be quite modest … Ambitions for God, however, if they are to be worthy, can never be modest. There is something inherently inappropriate about cherishing small ambitions for God. How can we ever be content that he should acquire just a little more honour in the world? No. Once we are clear that God is King, then we long to see him crowned with glory and honor, and accorded his true place, which is the supreme place. We become ambitious for the spread of his kingdom and righteousness everywhere."<br />
~John Stott<br />
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I'm wondering what ambitions I have that are insignificant and selfish? What ambitions should I have to further Christ's Kingdom?<br />
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Which reminds me again of China, and the fact that my 8 gb memory card is now finished downloading. So, now I'm going to process and delete some of the photos from the trip.<br />
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<div> </div> This photo is in Pinghu, shot from a bridge over one of the many canals. Unedited. <br />
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</div>Leahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06158701132712250606noreply@blogger.com2