tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57749615250215063952024-03-13T06:29:52.231-05:00Jo-with-it's PortfolioUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger596125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-39190448659905826512017-09-15T21:55:00.000-05:002017-09-15T21:55:01.618-05:00sept fifteen<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1x7dzn3Kwv27DxbavP83zxI6_5X_9AgUNxFZ7TETov2mfdFf8qpq9DL_7GTCFaZ6sqmXz_23w7ylJw1W6XgnnHlUAs3D2zWVBBgFueRh6FO1TMs-PMG15_EtR-NwQ5djVMHjrwvMBvfqF/s1600/IMG_0040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1x7dzn3Kwv27DxbavP83zxI6_5X_9AgUNxFZ7TETov2mfdFf8qpq9DL_7GTCFaZ6sqmXz_23w7ylJw1W6XgnnHlUAs3D2zWVBBgFueRh6FO1TMs-PMG15_EtR-NwQ5djVMHjrwvMBvfqF/s1600/IMG_0040.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO320 f/2.5 1/400 5:41PM(Eastern) 9/15/17</td></tr>
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Guys. I haven't seen her smile like that before. That's Brittany overflowing with joy because she gets to marry her gentle giant tomorrow. <3 nbsp="" p=""><br />
(North Carolina sunsets are magic)</3>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-49428266460220036432017-09-14T20:13:00.002-05:002017-09-14T20:13:28.338-05:00sept fourteen<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ1OrERpe-BrNqJkih1JhjQuH2RAnSIuPdOEvZP_TS4QuX94acawOqEoQadrSg5QF8t8ea7_m03x8CiPppMlGeSvnMlu6kI1Bbd3glgbRjsRONwNlpeKQzIHjBHqNB9Cgmv9LCKB0q1Oy_/s1600/IMG_0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ1OrERpe-BrNqJkih1JhjQuH2RAnSIuPdOEvZP_TS4QuX94acawOqEoQadrSg5QF8t8ea7_m03x8CiPppMlGeSvnMlu6kI1Bbd3glgbRjsRONwNlpeKQzIHjBHqNB9Cgmv9LCKB0q1Oy_/s1600/IMG_0007.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO1250 f/1.8 1/160 8:09PM(Eastern) 9/14/17</td></tr>
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Tequilah survived the 15 hour drive to North Carolina and loves the AirBnB. <br />
<br />
Peace out.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-42573964357656991602017-09-13T20:10:00.001-05:002017-09-13T20:10:34.417-05:00sept thirteen<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidczAwIYQBt6QdWJlXPGTH1OaQhxgx3Q9b07RrgpKOTJRrWoL_7DEBR5euA3FdUFOBRpgY4G6hAObsE9llSKtHBs_syiJ4NUMUOJbAaP8Rd-fbh_GMqZZ5HHhKTDTxAKoRUnO_OQeED3Bx/s1600/20170913_JKW_00023-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidczAwIYQBt6QdWJlXPGTH1OaQhxgx3Q9b07RrgpKOTJRrWoL_7DEBR5euA3FdUFOBRpgY4G6hAObsE9llSKtHBs_syiJ4NUMUOJbAaP8Rd-fbh_GMqZZ5HHhKTDTxAKoRUnO_OQeED3Bx/s1600/20170913_JKW_00023-20.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO320 f/2.2 1/1250 6:31PM 9/13/17</td></tr>
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Caught some fairies in the evening glow.<br />
<br />
Actually they're the really bad kind of fairies called mosquitos, but they sure are pretty that far away instead of all over my neck. :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-61340722297732415962017-09-13T07:48:00.002-05:002017-09-13T07:48:55.941-05:00sept twelve<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhxIjGMUnpWVgFwdcr9rQO8zoNYyETBxZHMjFEj6my_xQWTKizZoREYfVBGRgMNTRQssw4gYSN_l2j71cOcEqyC9XpMMKbcc47qXL9dV9c1JhS-Pr3NZb-bQWtyP2uwh1s1i8lCOa1v_gl/s1600/20170912_JKW_00022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhxIjGMUnpWVgFwdcr9rQO8zoNYyETBxZHMjFEj6my_xQWTKizZoREYfVBGRgMNTRQssw4gYSN_l2j71cOcEqyC9XpMMKbcc47qXL9dV9c1JhS-Pr3NZb-bQWtyP2uwh1s1i8lCOa1v_gl/s1600/20170912_JKW_00022.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO500 f/2.8 1/200 9:02PM 9/12/17</td></tr>
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This is my sweet Dad. His whole summer has been working to support our family during the day and working in the shop at night to make this bed for he and my Mom. He's designed the whole thing and is just finishing the last drawer tonight. Sometimes engineers get laughed at for not being "creative," but I think it's just a different kind of creativity. He is precise, yes, but he's also added so many little details and flourishes. He routinely says, "happiness is a perfectly cut dovetail." I so admire his creativity and skill in the workshop and love all the hours I've spent learning from him there. I'm so proud of my Papa!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-54976154886201405912017-09-11T23:03:00.000-05:002017-09-11T23:03:03.356-05:00sept eleven<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmuy-peGPTILXR3sjn2UJcawM2qIY6sKoyOG6xndtXXfTlUQsv0YhUU0C9DeuvxcQFzBP8qvKwgVIQFAHO9Or8esZm1ikGCjI2EETCwWYzg_qwwsICN4ohLS84yXOUmhJEKKyjmxd2LhV/s1600/20170911_JKW_00021-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmuy-peGPTILXR3sjn2UJcawM2qIY6sKoyOG6xndtXXfTlUQsv0YhUU0C9DeuvxcQFzBP8qvKwgVIQFAHO9Or8esZm1ikGCjI2EETCwWYzg_qwwsICN4ohLS84yXOUmhJEKKyjmxd2LhV/s1600/20170911_JKW_00021-3.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO1250 f/2.8 1/160 6:42PM 9/11/17</td></tr>
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She's 12 going on 13 and doing her own research for a volcano project. And was in pajamas basically all day. Yup, she's homeschooled alright. :) It's kinda crazy to think that she still has 10 years before she's my age, but she's only got 2 inches to go my height. She's growing up fast and has begun baking recently (thank you British Baking Show for influencing out waistlines).<br />
<br />
Because I haven't been shooting much we don't have any pictures from this era of life except her myriad selfies on all of out phones. That makes me sad. She's growing up before my very eyes, and I want that to be in front of my lens at least a little.<br />
<br />
#shootforfamilyUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-88173327231319710002017-09-11T00:14:00.001-05:002017-09-11T00:14:59.474-05:00sept ten<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6bHOTOwFnDC85KC4RNrSK4roRJV1QADJQg8fYx9-OMr7WCReojKNGBMAcgUawlDcJ8YNk2bc3HujX6mJY7VZWARKoa7zBGFgb-2U2w7iFq5zg9iiSPgmWwz__7KGatNasSSOTyiPfx5Re/s1600/20170910_JKW_00020-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6bHOTOwFnDC85KC4RNrSK4roRJV1QADJQg8fYx9-OMr7WCReojKNGBMAcgUawlDcJ8YNk2bc3HujX6mJY7VZWARKoa7zBGFgb-2U2w7iFq5zg9iiSPgmWwz__7KGatNasSSOTyiPfx5Re/s1600/20170910_JKW_00020-2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO4000 f/2.8 1/160 11:49PM 9/10/17</td></tr>
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I don't know what it is. But being away from home for any length of time or being busy enough that only sleeping hours are spent at home creates a vacuum in my heart. I think it was the same for my Mom. I grew up with her saying she had to "commune with the house," or "have a home day," or "center herself" (i.e. clean the house top to bottom).<br />
<br />
Well, I think there's something like that in my soul too. If I'm grumpy there could be a couple causes that make no sense except that they're part of a repeating pattern. Is Jo grumpy? If no: Wow! That's wonderful. And maybe she really is. . .she's just hiding it. If yes: has she eaten? Has she washed her hair recently? Has she done something creative/artsy recently? Has she journaled? Is her space neat? Has she sat alone or virtually alone with no requirement to speak or react recently? <br />
<br />
These are "centering" things. My INJF heart craves them sometimes and if I haven't had them it makes me want to be a fly on the wall, not an active participant in life. If forced to participate (or if I force myself to participate. . .) I shall probably be grumpy.<br />
<br />
Today the house was calling and the answer was to clean all the dishes. My space wasn't neat and it was making my heart not so neat either. Next will be lying in bed and staring at the ceiling in utter silence till I start to hear God. And maybe tomorrow I'll journal. The week is starting to look up. ;)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-18942955210738241532017-09-11T00:03:00.001-05:002017-09-11T00:03:39.321-05:00sept nine<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdWU4uM5lG1pIHBXTL3EjCyEgyQObXjEGim_zwEu9_ZLeaQqnCoMbnvSse_ovb-NjGDUmStu6IRRDtj_zk4rrnhh2uL3vVye_9KqFp_XfQJ-Jm5iSoBZi-PerJd3PPV3c0l10WMST_TrH/s1600/20170909_JKW_00019-497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdWU4uM5lG1pIHBXTL3EjCyEgyQObXjEGim_zwEu9_ZLeaQqnCoMbnvSse_ovb-NjGDUmStu6IRRDtj_zk4rrnhh2uL3vVye_9KqFp_XfQJ-Jm5iSoBZi-PerJd3PPV3c0l10WMST_TrH/s1600/20170909_JKW_00019-497.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO100 f/2.8 1/400 4:17 9/9/17</td></tr>
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Congratulations, Seth and Grace Rice!!<br />
<br />
#secondshootUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-16818769773459591932017-09-08T22:04:00.001-05:002017-09-08T22:04:36.404-05:00sept eight<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMGZfeTGOgTXLhTUWBn9HV6jbL-OT-RRJzQSJXo6L7XTN_XGTIVgra7Xr6FL3pIDpZTHLVu0jrR8HAulR3jSr0oENhTXGP6-RJQGzOL3nhtWIOWCnXysyO1h9bgGMExmMBzitgYfMDqQrr/s1600/20170908_JKW_00018-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMGZfeTGOgTXLhTUWBn9HV6jbL-OT-RRJzQSJXo6L7XTN_XGTIVgra7Xr6FL3pIDpZTHLVu0jrR8HAulR3jSr0oENhTXGP6-RJQGzOL3nhtWIOWCnXysyO1h9bgGMExmMBzitgYfMDqQrr/s1600/20170908_JKW_00018-7.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO1600 f/2.5 1/80 9:37PM 9/8/17</td></tr>
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Calm before the storm. I think I should add it to my second shooter resume that I bring comics to read after the rehearsal and make the first shooter laugh. :) Awkward Yeti/Heart & Brain is the bestest.<br />
<br />
Tonight was yet another example of "I'm working, I can't take personal photos," until I remembered this was a thing and finally got it out. Also, photographers aren't in near enough photos. I love to catch them behind the scenes like they do so well for everyone else. :)<br />
<br />
#shootphotographersUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-1524423737355956872017-09-07T21:19:00.002-05:002017-09-07T21:19:25.627-05:00sept seven<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPeQNyYR5f3SWA5TqbLO0kBvy2QfGu0BAEftvlst_oznv8FPouX2IFICbc0iea9noA818pWsPOS9DQePdHNDTrfUPIclm38gBZTqteFLW9CqntQTk9k8MqgBXbAKBKaVq8hqZzb4dmb12W/s1600/20170907_JKW_00017-29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPeQNyYR5f3SWA5TqbLO0kBvy2QfGu0BAEftvlst_oznv8FPouX2IFICbc0iea9noA818pWsPOS9DQePdHNDTrfUPIclm38gBZTqteFLW9CqntQTk9k8MqgBXbAKBKaVq8hqZzb4dmb12W/s1600/20170907_JKW_00017-29.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO1000 f/1.6 1/50 6:34PM 9/7/17</td></tr>
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Good old fashioned fun. And good old fashioned lessons in how to speak nicely to one another. How to share. How to be patient. How to work together. <br />
<br />
This particular lego project started as mine, but when someone asked if they could "help" the answer was always yes. Soon we're all squeezed into one small space trying to recreate a garden and fountain out of legos. And we're expressing our emotions rather loudly...apparently. I love how all the bright colors all over the place are like the emotions that children wear on their sleeves. But somehow we're learning to sort them out and be choosing to be content with our blues or looking at someone else's perspective before being jealous and taking what they have. We're bringing every thought and emotion captive to Christ and living well -- as he designed us to.<br />
<br />
#shootthemessy #letthembekidsUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-84736794988859690122017-09-06T20:59:00.000-05:002017-09-06T20:59:04.943-05:00sept six<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4JlZwUc8C3tHd_ajjxxRAoOeYBMRG_bufhJM6ZhjcN5pOzmrDmNDTpCGdG3y_fLi0-Q7DvUsWKyzAQoQhWJZ7XpphO2r7s9BGYAP80G4ylw5ffildq9l2qNywJ06Mjtmj_DKOr-_2DtyI/s1600/20170906_JKW_00016-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4JlZwUc8C3tHd_ajjxxRAoOeYBMRG_bufhJM6ZhjcN5pOzmrDmNDTpCGdG3y_fLi0-Q7DvUsWKyzAQoQhWJZ7XpphO2r7s9BGYAP80G4ylw5ffildq9l2qNywJ06Mjtmj_DKOr-_2DtyI/s1600/20170906_JKW_00016-4.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO800 f/2.8 1/160 8:38PM 9/6/17</td></tr>
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Why the picture of the dirty kitchen? Because I totally forgot about the challenge and was feeling the need for something sweet. I've been dizzy and sick all day and some shortbread and cinnamon whipped cream was just what the "doctor" ordered. But honestly, the more I look at this picture the more I like it. The is my apartment, aka, "The 6." This is real life. This is a part of MY life I don't want to forget. Late nights, random baking adventures, piles of dishes sometimes, and so much heat put off by this old gas stove that the flat mate and I have decided we won't need any heat this winter. :)<br />
<br />
#shootforyouUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-26727865345110029392017-09-05T20:52:00.000-05:002017-09-05T20:52:29.634-05:00sept five<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLpIqCykc-ARPIjz2YcL85Gw1mdUndH42omPnb12EZSbO0ZNQfiQb1pdkA1v6pK9LRX5x_IgvnZq6HIbUeaj1DOmVPZZYRyxrVaKyKE91-C_jMDfDViDBTD8h9VLbmqlKP_F1U19cJLVdw/s1600/20170905_JKW_00015-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLpIqCykc-ARPIjz2YcL85Gw1mdUndH42omPnb12EZSbO0ZNQfiQb1pdkA1v6pK9LRX5x_IgvnZq6HIbUeaj1DOmVPZZYRyxrVaKyKE91-C_jMDfDViDBTD8h9VLbmqlKP_F1U19cJLVdw/s1600/20170905_JKW_00015-16.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO1600 f2.8 1/400 5:09PM 9/5/17</td></tr>
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Didn't want to shoot anything today. I was hot and cold and happy and sad and motivated and worn. But I was 30 minutes early for Taekwondo, so I practiced using my self timer (10 seconds, one shot) and my high turning kick. Took about 30 shots, but only 3 were timed perfectly enough to catch my foot close or at it's peak. Keep shooting I guess. Don't give up. And don't be afraid to be your own subject? I struggle with that in particular. I want to be in photos, but I don't like wanting it... It's weird.<br />
<br />
#justkeepshooting #bethesubjectUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-15670569991961530702017-09-05T00:06:00.002-05:002017-09-05T00:06:30.196-05:00sept four<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLBuhVQOvCP94S3sK3X5O1tndgRmcookeC6rLaqU1cEcnnnovReWJjWvje5pgS61pAdxGz1usMKnhm-AKEFZ2R7K0saLT1Uuhwok7nAGwTUYpmpFPiFV4aBmxUSU7AAgsApZ3pbCWHECx8/s1600/20170904_JKW_00013-33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLBuhVQOvCP94S3sK3X5O1tndgRmcookeC6rLaqU1cEcnnnovReWJjWvje5pgS61pAdxGz1usMKnhm-AKEFZ2R7K0saLT1Uuhwok7nAGwTUYpmpFPiFV4aBmxUSU7AAgsApZ3pbCWHECx8/s1600/20170904_JKW_00013-33.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO4000 f2.0 1/80 9:04PM 9/4/17</td></tr>
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In which my boyfriend helps my little sister cream me in Jaipur. And Timothy is normal. :)<br />
<br />
I had some stressful moments today. I had some sad moments today. I also had some amazingly right moments today. It's important to acknowledge and grow from struggles, but (since I struggle with being a pessimist) I must choose to curate my memories toward those where the glass is half-full, not those where it's half-empty. When you shoot, you are telling the story and creating the memory. Shoot even the sad things in a way that brings hope and beauty<br />
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#curateUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-2085191870793534642017-09-04T01:18:00.000-05:002017-09-04T01:18:48.152-05:00sept three<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSK_aoI5YCaxWPF1PXz9p2J0okCAdZ4g4g5eCwJuO6xjnJXMXttgoHfV_9AnXKmiFGrAiuaFpo4i7h6dpi1K-1fpob2khhB6Plcnq3O5xtFFq2IJl-52JH6J64xI40VBcFQsFRhhTu5C1T/s1600/20170903_JKW_00012-30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSK_aoI5YCaxWPF1PXz9p2J0okCAdZ4g4g5eCwJuO6xjnJXMXttgoHfV_9AnXKmiFGrAiuaFpo4i7h6dpi1K-1fpob2khhB6Plcnq3O5xtFFq2IJl-52JH6J64xI40VBcFQsFRhhTu5C1T/s1600/20170903_JKW_00012-30.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO250 f2.0 1/1250 5:58PM 9/3/17</td></tr>
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Sundays are rough for taking pictures. They are "be" days, not "document" days. <br />
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So I went out and took some obligatory pictures.<br />
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Of flowers.<br />
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They were cool, but they didn't hit home (actually they were kinda lame). They didn't tell a story. <br />
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So I brought the camera out at Bible Study (where Kevin and Celia were in town for just the day). <br />
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We took a group photo, and then it clicked that all three of my original pseudo-bros were now married (as of 2 months ago) and were all there with their wives! So we took a group photo. <br />
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I was worried about being the annoying girl with the camera.<br />
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I didn't want to push things. But I shot anyway. Because, you know, the challenge, and, like, failing 3 days in, and wanting to push myself... So I directed them and then relied on the group of other Bible study fan behind me to provide comic relief. And I just shot everything. <br />
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Now we have amazing snapshots of Danny's sense of humor, and Christen's baby belly, and Celia's laugh, and Kevin's beard. . .This bit of time will never come back again. It's a different season from when the guys were all around our table eating one-pot and talking theology, and another different season is on the way. But this here and now is the gift of the present.<br />
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It totally beat the flower shot.<br />
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Uncomfortable? #shootanyway #shootthestory<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc5i35t3he7WIbK5JeFBEjZdvG-6Ex4BdNp427awDQN3h-YDgUb0wB5Tm99V1C-bJEbCFoxBA5doaMrswggrf5QLAwTcYe7UQG1KaN6MOOP1piCKzUQpemvY4UnmVl58gyH1jz0maLSnBc/s1600/20170903_JKW_00012-36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc5i35t3he7WIbK5JeFBEjZdvG-6Ex4BdNp427awDQN3h-YDgUb0wB5Tm99V1C-bJEbCFoxBA5doaMrswggrf5QLAwTcYe7UQG1KaN6MOOP1piCKzUQpemvY4UnmVl58gyH1jz0maLSnBc/s1600/20170903_JKW_00012-36.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our actual shot</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-49070073931258768572017-09-03T00:21:00.004-05:002017-09-03T00:21:54.056-05:00sept two<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBs6Qv4LNsz1-X9Y8sCCTgGEnrJCTxPBtwB9Q0K5ufLfwM6h8bboWEf3IALDZDu1eiDzMGaC2ADVgtcDc4Zzca4f-k9tZQ3cz7e79PuHWwGLJIg76sXemJJC9d3PRLCiTGqhfYa3GQFR2u/s1600/20170902_JKW_00011-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBs6Qv4LNsz1-X9Y8sCCTgGEnrJCTxPBtwB9Q0K5ufLfwM6h8bboWEf3IALDZDu1eiDzMGaC2ADVgtcDc4Zzca4f-k9tZQ3cz7e79PuHWwGLJIg76sXemJJC9d3PRLCiTGqhfYa3GQFR2u/s1600/20170902_JKW_00011-10.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tilt Shift Lens ISO100 f/0.0 1/320 5:17PM 9/2/17</td></tr>
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So we're walking towards the apple orchard and I let these two newlywed friends of mine walk on ahead. I was messing with my new tilt-shift and missed the shot when they kissed, so I yelled at them to do it again. Was it posed? Yes. Was it real? Yes. When telling a true story it is important to not make people do something they wouldn't normally do -- that's fake. But it's ok to recreate a moment (when you've got the focus on your new lens almost right. :) ) This has the vibe of that NYC moment when WWII ended: "The Kiss." And I like it. I like it a lot.<br />
#recreatethemomentUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-18060539048705604952017-09-01T16:44:00.000-05:002017-09-01T22:14:47.889-05:00sept one<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0LKBgHTe5fyvXSBIAKgQNvpKdyLNZVZ2qYatQ4Wo6Rtl6llIiMK8bnMiJVhBf643b9iKxejhvbt1hNTd8BLbqkh5fY33w_-sTmOOafu4OJqa0l8MF6tpipRx7uFVMlyZj24GYbYTZ1zzA/s1600/20170901_JKW_00010-56.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0LKBgHTe5fyvXSBIAKgQNvpKdyLNZVZ2qYatQ4Wo6Rtl6llIiMK8bnMiJVhBf643b9iKxejhvbt1hNTd8BLbqkh5fY33w_-sTmOOafu4OJqa0l8MF6tpipRx7uFVMlyZj24GYbYTZ1zzA/s640/20170901_JKW_00010-56.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">50mm ISO100 f/2.0 1/2000 4:20PM 9/1/17</td></tr>
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[This shot was born in the in-between moments. None of the pictures I posed really turned out. Kind of a sucker punch to the ego, but that's why you roll with the punches. #shootinbetween ]Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-15773244176949172972016-10-07T00:15:00.003-05:002016-10-07T00:15:59.974-05:00Thunderstorms will ContinueI have a nifty weather app on my phone that pushes notification to my lock screen. Things like, "30% chance of rain at 3pm," "Flash flood warning from until 9pm," and "Mostly Cloudy in the afternoon." Yeah, it's handy for something, I'm sure. :) I mostly ignore it. But we'll get back to that.<div>
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These past couple days have been interesting. Listening to friends' joys and troubles. Teaching and learning skills. Processing and diagnosing and sleeping. And then yesterday I heard that after an involved interview process I would not be getting a job that every single person I know thought was a sure-win. It doesn't hurt not getting the job, but it's confusing. </div>
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I spent the last couple MONTHS praying about applying and finally doing it and mentally preparing to work in this particular field and business for years. Years. That's purpose. That's direction. That's certainty. And now it's confusion. Do I know anything that's certain for the next couple years?</div>
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I looked down at my phone and actually read the weather report. It was simply: "Thunderstorms will continue." No probability or time frame, just the straight truth. Thunderstorms will continue. </div>
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I looked at the rejection of my application and thought, "thunder." I looked at my garbage -- the result of days of having a runny nose and sniffled, "thunder." I looked at my crazy schedule, filled with wonderful friends (and some of their drama) and said, "thunder." Then I felt the cares and questions of my heart: "thunder."</div>
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Yes, the sound and distance of my thunder may change, but it will remain. In every age there will be things I don't understand; Emotions to feel, fears to be conquered, things to get done, places to go, and trials to grow through, but there will also be the Rock of Ages. </div>
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I've got a fortress named Jesus Christ who remains the same yesterday, today, and forever, so let the storm rage. This, my friends, is certain -- not just for the next couple years, but into infinity and beyond.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-83829539982933543182016-09-28T14:58:00.000-05:002016-09-28T14:58:01.551-05:00Cluttered HeartIt just happened all of a sudden. I woke up and couldn't get up.<br />
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I glanced around my room and saw projects strewn left and right, papers piled high with the mental note "to read" posted on them. Artifacts from my travels, gifts from and for friends. Dirty clothes in one pile, clean clothes in another. The door to my closet broken and propped in the corner. The clock blinking 10:15 and my phone announcing dozens of emails, texts, and notifications of varying importance. I finally sit up and see that to get to the door will be an obstacle course of not stepping on cords or shoes or dust bunnies (the ones that aren't under random purses and boxes filled with more junk I need to go through and put away.<br />
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It didn't all get here overnight. A little each day I put things down on top of yesterdays things. Till I would fall asleep exhausted amid the piles and wake up stressed among the same piles. All the time knowing full well I couldn't deal with it now because there were places to be. Things to do.<br />
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And the piles grew.<br />
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Till they swallowed me. That's when I realized it wasn't my room that was messy, but my heart.<br />
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A little each day. Stacking experiences and posting a note "to process." Piling texts and emails and notes and somewhere after "reaction" and before "respond." Replaying conversations over and over till I get the energy to decide how they actually make me feel. Glancing at the burning pile that says "to cry about" and writing the post-script "later" until the emergency sprinklers decide to go off without my permission. Having so many people to care about scattered about and having so many good intentions to give them time and energy but always walking past them unfulfilled. And on my way out the door tripping over disappointment and death and lies and my own failure.<br />
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And the piles grow.<br />
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Oh Jesus, I've got the room covered. . .I think. But this heart thing has got me so tired. I'm completely overwhelmed by my own emotions and troubles and good intentions(a.k.a. failures). <br />
Pleas take it all. I am defeated. My hope is in you. My ONLY hope.<br />
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"Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen." I Peter 5:6-11</blockquote>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-34510925773616399782016-04-28T10:50:00.001-05:002016-04-28T10:50:22.650-05:00Look What God Has Wrought!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>It is in the shelter of each other that people live</i>. -Irish Proverb</span></div>
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So, this was a happy time. This was our Bible study group (not all pictured) coming together to throw a surprise party in celebration of all our friend Sammi has meant to us. </div>
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She's going away for work and school and doing crazy awesome cool adult stuff, but we'll miss her like crazy, so we combined a bunch of her favorite things and surprised her with a party, had a sleep over, did home church together, and then spent the most amazingly relaxing afternoon letting go of our cares and just existing together -- free to be young. Not sure what that looks like to you, but to us that's having deep conversations on the deck, doing trick shots with a frisbee, riding excitedly down the hill in a wagon, raking up sticks, doing cartwheels, or just laying in the grass and enjoying the sunshine.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZ9yKFADE5SALFetDj5Aua-m_objYqKxj95Mrwgy9AU32z2Z79E6RyVrodxa1RvBfJVo6gor4vhA7pUNYt7xI7HW4-ZumPzDJdRi0qxNRnaPgxGy1P12H_DdY_LmbhP6Ytz9KC0hsvc-k/s1600/IMG_0053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZ9yKFADE5SALFetDj5Aua-m_objYqKxj95Mrwgy9AU32z2Z79E6RyVrodxa1RvBfJVo6gor4vhA7pUNYt7xI7HW4-ZumPzDJdRi0qxNRnaPgxGy1P12H_DdY_LmbhP6Ytz9KC0hsvc-k/s640/IMG_0053.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Post party weekend, Emma commented that we were not just her best friends, but family. <i>family.</i> </div>
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We may look confident and put together here (let's be honest -- we look <i>really</i> good ;), but I got to thinking about this group and I was struck by the reality of how crazy it is that this seemingly random group of souls are even friends, let alone family -- children and heirs! We clean up good, but we've got issues.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcIBpAeCwVbo9A-YZ2zC61PPSIonNE5OohiP1hI2hzq_IrgREIUNqvDkmCll0kECV56KYMQC3BwU7Z486GhTsLE6s79eIN3QmLtDARg2tovm_com0TKflNK3seYeui90qPYA0nBwk-Ye3g/s1600/IMG_0055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcIBpAeCwVbo9A-YZ2zC61PPSIonNE5OohiP1hI2hzq_IrgREIUNqvDkmCll0kECV56KYMQC3BwU7Z486GhTsLE6s79eIN3QmLtDARg2tovm_com0TKflNK3seYeui90qPYA0nBwk-Ye3g/s640/IMG_0055.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We've got work stress. We've got baggage from past relationships. We've got consequences for past actions. We've got depression. We've got eating disorders. We've got bitterness. We've got jealousy. We've got addictions. We've got masks. We've got pride. We've got rebellion. We've got school stress. We've got lies. We believe lies. We're lazy. We whine.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>But GOD. . .</i></span></div>
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Somehow, in this miracle that is redemption, we are changing and growing. Like iron sharpening iron as we bump into each other and make mistakes, God is shaping us all to look more like his son Jesus Christ. We've still got those issues, but when I look at our group now I see proof of God's love. I see 1 John 4: 7-12, 18-21(emphasis added)</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="text 1John-4-7" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Beloved, <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30594Q" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30594Q" title="See cross-reference Q">Q</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>let us love one another, for love is from God, and <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30594R" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30594R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text 1John-4-8" id="en-ESV-30595" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30595S" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30595S" title="See cross-reference S">S</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>Anyone who does not love does not know God, because <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30595T" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30595T" title="See cross-reference T">T</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>God is love.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text 1John-4-9" id="en-ESV-30596" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30596U" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30596U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><i><b>God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him.</b></i></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text 1John-4-10" id="en-ESV-30597" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>In this is love, <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30597V" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30597V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>not that we have loved God <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30597W" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30597W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>but that he loved us and sent his Son to be <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30597X" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30597X" title="See cross-reference X">X</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>the propitiation for our sins.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text 1John-4-11" id="en-ESV-30598" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span><i><b>Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.</b></i></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text 1John-4-12" id="en-ESV-30599" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30599Y" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30599Y" title="See cross-reference Y">Y</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30599Z" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30599Z" title="See cross-reference Z">Z</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>his love is perfected in us. . .</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="text 1John-4-18" id="en-ESV-30605" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b><i>There is no fear in love</i></b>, but <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30605AL" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30605AL" title="See cross-reference AL">AL</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30605AM" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30605AM" title="See cross-reference AM">AM</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>been perfected in love.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text 1John-4-19" id="en-ESV-30606" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30606AN" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30606AN" title="See cross-reference AN">AN</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><b><i>We love because he first loved us.</i></b></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text 1John-4-20" id="en-ESV-30607" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30607AO" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30607AO" title="See cross-reference AO">AO</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>If anyone says, “I love God,” and <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30607AP" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30607AP" title="See cross-reference AP">AP</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot<span class="footnote" data-fn="#fen-ESV-30607a" data-link="[<a href="#fen-ESV-30607a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">[<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+John+4&version=ESV#fen-ESV-30607a" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; color: #b34b2c; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote a">a</a>]</span> love God <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30607AQ" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30607AQ" title="See cross-reference AQ">AQ</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>whom he has not seen.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text 1John-4-21" id="en-ESV-30608" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>And <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30608AR" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30608AR" title="See cross-reference AR">AR</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>this commandment we have from him: <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30608AS" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30608AS" title="See cross-reference AS">AS</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><i><b>whoever loves God must also love his brother.</b></i></span></blockquote>
We're learning to care for and shelter one another. We're learning to love our brother because we love God, <i>because He first loved us</i>!<br />
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Now when I look at this conglomerate of humans from all over the geographical area (and 8 different churches) I see how we're changing and growing. I see what God is doing -- making a people for himself. </div>
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A people who strives for unity. A people who forgives. A people who prays. A people who builds up. A people who is honest. A people who shares God's gospel. A people who sacrifices. A people who gives. A people who serves. A people who denies the world and lives <i>holy</i>. A people who asks for help. A people who discerns. A people who tries to understand. A people who rejoices. A people who does <i>hard</i> things because God. Is. Worth. It. A people who heals. A people who <i>shelters</i>.</div>
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Our Bible study has always been a living organism, but seeing the growing pains and the work of the Holy Spirit in just the last 4 months has been so encouraging to my personal spiritual walk with God. And it excites me to see how God will work in the next months!<br />
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Like Baalam blessed the people of Israel, I want it to be said of us, "Look what God has done!"<br />
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"Behold, I received a command to bless: he has blessed, and I cannot revoke it.<br />He has not beheld misfortune in Jacob, nor has he seen trouble in Israel.<br />The Lord their God is with them, and the shout of a king is among them. God brings them out of Egypt and is for them like the horns of the wild ox. For there is no enchantment against Jacob, no divination against Israel; now it shall be said of Jacob and Israel, ‘What has God wrought!’"<br />Numbers 23:20-23</blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj0i2tKu2uZ700LZkCJtDJe8YEuQk3mQfgAKjZyitR7hlhUEjxtHO4V62n1_qI3GyVbXTs0zVyaWuEQBdAeR0hxDqGCneZfR0T_7AgHUhv9HNHEzzqKzqLLeMPUjllDWNISdftecaePVal/s1600/IMG_0162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj0i2tKu2uZ700LZkCJtDJe8YEuQk3mQfgAKjZyitR7hlhUEjxtHO4V62n1_qI3GyVbXTs0zVyaWuEQBdAeR0hxDqGCneZfR0T_7AgHUhv9HNHEzzqKzqLLeMPUjllDWNISdftecaePVal/s640/IMG_0162.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Not all are pictured, this is just the surprise group)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Blessed beyond measure,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Joanna Kay</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">3 John 4</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-24315995332810638842016-01-23T20:31:00.001-06:002016-01-23T20:31:52.171-06:003 Things<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3_4UmeRKucinjWaGS4cmRTLWYnWegUPITCmUlisB07LFdEzxGRPsxZsO7D_rIVeL5GgHbPKuIUkEOi8zuKWMfURmcH5Q06_90dDlNLamchGfnQtnulud5KOyec1-lsSXQ6_Olr7s5cA-o/s1600/IMG_20160110_173419405_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3_4UmeRKucinjWaGS4cmRTLWYnWegUPITCmUlisB07LFdEzxGRPsxZsO7D_rIVeL5GgHbPKuIUkEOi8zuKWMfURmcH5Q06_90dDlNLamchGfnQtnulud5KOyec1-lsSXQ6_Olr7s5cA-o/s640/IMG_20160110_173419405_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li>"God wants us to be <i>really</i> strong, which is different from the way we might typically desire to be strong. We often want to be strong in a way that reflects well on <b>us</b>. God wants us to be strong in a way that reflects well on <b>him</b>." <a href="http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/god-does-not-need-you-to-be-strong">This article</a> keeps hitting home.</li>
<li>The <a href="http://masterteaching.leapasia.org/2015/04/01/the-dialect-of-questions/">Dialect of Questions</a> is a tool I have loved being taught with without realizing it. . .I'd love to get better at using it.</li>
<li>Because I'm an aspiring linguist, I find this fascinating:</li>
</ul>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-965986013030266912016-01-22T16:57:00.001-06:002016-01-22T16:57:09.652-06:00Hawaii Week 2<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibVhr623m_2ttfHu4zpmAXVXwspe-vIPz5aKxsBk1QeknlkmODe_NnMMsYvA98SdUtCt0zKIToNTilHjR3k6G9WeYQgO-V25vktTqxEqDY_mNICC4UGNYUz71Fe2SE9JPJz7__b7VCOlIr/s1600/IMG_0681.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibVhr623m_2ttfHu4zpmAXVXwspe-vIPz5aKxsBk1QeknlkmODe_NnMMsYvA98SdUtCt0zKIToNTilHjR3k6G9WeYQgO-V25vktTqxEqDY_mNICC4UGNYUz71Fe2SE9JPJz7__b7VCOlIr/s640/IMG_0681.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rainy days are for doing school and taking naps (View from balcony)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdr-nPbDh9hWb7XjYBqRHs37n51Tnqzp8yZ4R8SoR5ptvMPmlTOUbbqsxciZJZ0E11IVF7ik4TkWeWaAN8G_i9jWpcy2audMAeOGrDyQlbFVs4z42bs4WKdOeokVB6LdPt8VaCQjLpFRV5/s1600/IMG_0712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdr-nPbDh9hWb7XjYBqRHs37n51Tnqzp8yZ4R8SoR5ptvMPmlTOUbbqsxciZJZ0E11IVF7ik4TkWeWaAN8G_i9jWpcy2audMAeOGrDyQlbFVs4z42bs4WKdOeokVB6LdPt8VaCQjLpFRV5/s320/IMG_0712.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty typical Hawaiian yard plants</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0_RcBA9yRvrk-DpzY0ZmeBzcQUG2slYBtRU-ueKwgCxeCqsLRYXtHQ-gL2-76ILK6XXI6erUOG9tP_9qXOec5hV_eabvrj1OW7EV0ICZAQ3v3XLbhBrRLNO6Aqtr_jsq5kxIVhSt-0g8/s1600/IMG_0692.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0_RcBA9yRvrk-DpzY0ZmeBzcQUG2slYBtRU-ueKwgCxeCqsLRYXtHQ-gL2-76ILK6XXI6erUOG9tP_9qXOec5hV_eabvrj1OW7EV0ICZAQ3v3XLbhBrRLNO6Aqtr_jsq5kxIVhSt-0g8/s320/IMG_0692.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm doing most of the cooking these days.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This week has been a stay at home week for the most part. And by that I mean we just do life stuff -- no touristy trips or visits to the beach. Because getting 4 little people out the door is a bit of an ordeal we pack everything we can into one day. For example, on one day this week we went to the dentist, got special donuts, and took everyone to get flu shots all in one day. <i>That</i> is an adventure. <br />
<br />
Staying home days are a bit of an adventure for me as well. We've taken on the challenge to use up all of the canned and dry goods so I've been looking up recipes that have these things in them, starting to cook them, and then ending up substituting half of the ingredients before it's all said and done. I've never cooked with so many canned vegetables in my entire like. It's weird. But I've been making lots of yummy bread to go along with the interesting things, so it all works out.<br />
<br />
Some other random thoughts:</div>
<ul>
<li>Crest is way better than Colgate. (I've actually felt this way for a while, but I'm reminded of it again this week)</li>
<li>Turns out I can't even do 1 pushup correctly. That's about to change.</li>
<li>Went snorkeling (crazy story!) and scraped my feet up on the reef but my skin is so thick that even the largish gouges didn't bleed. #barefootforlife</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7jQDR8YT0jmbzEOT3x3YW7ERa4y2zA466uRAzR2IrV8kC9lqDQdTX278aKkwx_Z55kCG6cDv4D3jNKCE3ee-7eO2VjP_kjQT55joasBy_nmnjsIw2nUxMLCkWVOwRP9Ap7SFTSydAhjiO/s1600/P1010567.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7jQDR8YT0jmbzEOT3x3YW7ERa4y2zA466uRAzR2IrV8kC9lqDQdTX278aKkwx_Z55kCG6cDv4D3jNKCE3ee-7eO2VjP_kjQT55joasBy_nmnjsIw2nUxMLCkWVOwRP9Ap7SFTSydAhjiO/s640/P1010567.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Once again, underwater cameras can document some pretty interesting times.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>Maybe this should have been first. . .but Taekwondo ROCKS. I found a dojang only 5 minutes down the mountain and the people are so kind and helpful (which looks like really pushing you sometimes). I've bruised up my feet a little, but it's so worth it.</li>
<li>I've become so aware and thankful of texts and messages and calls from the mainland (or my friends in other countries). It's not like I've moved permanently, but sometimes it feels like it because I can't just call up a friend and say, "Hey, let's get together and talk/do something." I may be an introvert, but that doesn't mean I don't need people. It means I appreciate just <i>being</i> in the same room sometimes. Just listening to my siblings or friends talk. Skype and phones are a poor but necessary substitute. :)</li>
<li>I've not figured out a nice way to tell little kids that I don't want to pick them up this morning because their breath smells so bad. I <i>have</i> figured out how to put up with it though, because smiley-excited-morning-pajama hugs from these cute littles are the best hugs I've ever had. :)</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipKW4piObbc9HRepEmaYDV6Cs6dPrBQBsEOBd_OtR2W4GoYyB9ox3GQ_G2j-wqbX1tuLhj1zQB3zisAHyhBE9QAdt_r6Pgfyz5d8os_XtgY6X3B6d6-gdi2B7vbxYuNvedVd5g6q4YHDHk/s1600/IMG_0631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipKW4piObbc9HRepEmaYDV6Cs6dPrBQBsEOBd_OtR2W4GoYyB9ox3GQ_G2j-wqbX1tuLhj1zQB3zisAHyhBE9QAdt_r6Pgfyz5d8os_XtgY6X3B6d6-gdi2B7vbxYuNvedVd5g6q4YHDHk/s640/IMG_0631.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View off the balcony just after sunset</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-32137418069497461292016-01-15T03:08:00.000-06:002016-01-15T03:08:02.781-06:00When you realize you're 7<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCGl6Q-zk7lXNxKSmO0Veh-_IFHGjr5VgnVFN9p2fRy318FE65b_raGRxB_i9GjeND4uF9DOtnjzD2LASmmaGCS2GTFoCjBKF0aG-DorhuWlwPdH_JRN90H490YbiwmNtElwReBYeNr7i/s1600/IMG_0679.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCGl6Q-zk7lXNxKSmO0Veh-_IFHGjr5VgnVFN9p2fRy318FE65b_raGRxB_i9GjeND4uF9DOtnjzD2LASmmaGCS2GTFoCjBKF0aG-DorhuWlwPdH_JRN90H490YbiwmNtElwReBYeNr7i/s400/IMG_0679.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A (sadly) blurry photo of Ellie and I</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"Mommy, I don't want him to do that."<br />
<br />
A simple request. One I had no clue would cut me to the heart.<br />
<br />
I was sitting next to Ellie during our 'quiet time' soon after my arrival and observing the family routine. (Every day possible the whole clan practices sitting quietly, singing songs, and reading scripture. If the littles aren't aware or focused enough to worship they still must obey and play quietly.) Little Jeff was playing on the floor, while Ellie, as the oldest sibling, was expected to sit on the chair cooperatively -- a task she usually does joyfully.<br />
<br />
The request was made again with more urgency, "Mommy. I really don't want him to do that. May he please not do that?"<br />
<br />
"Mom" has 3 other less cooperative kids to help, so Ellie is told that Mommy sees and will take care of it. But Mom doesn't immediately stop the action. Now starting to cry, Ellie tried again:<br />
<br />
"Mom, I really don't want Jeff to do that with my toy. I don't <i>want</i> him to! Mom, please stop him. He can't do that! Please stop it!" Now in full panic mode, things were starting to get noisy. As an observer, I noted that Ellie had a legitimate request. Jeff was being mischievous and rather naughty. (dousing a teddy bear slowly and methodically with water from a bottle) He <i>was</i> doing something unhealthy, if not actually truly rebellious. So I turned to the scene unfolding between Ellie and Mom.<br />
<br />
My urge was to stand up for Ellie, but I quickly saw that Mom wasn't just teaching Ellie about justice today, she was also teaching her about trust. Mom gave Ellie her full attention and started talking softly to her saying "Don't worry, Mommy will take care of it. Settle down. Please calm yourself, I will take care of it." The 7 year-old kept looking at the sad scene on the floor and whimpering and begging mom to stop it and do something.<br />
<br />
Finally Mom said firmly, "Ellie, look at me. Look Mommy in the eye. Ellie, who is in charge? Yes, I am. Do you believe that I will take care of it? Settle down. No, look at me. Do you trust that Mommy will take care of it? I will take care of it, so don't worry about what he is doing and calm down."<br />
<br />
I saw the struggle. I felt the struggle. Every word spoken sounded like God. I was Ellie. I am 7. . .. begging God to stop people from doing things I don't like. Frantically asking him to fix something and pawing at him while I just stare sadly at the problem or offending person. <br />
<br />
Then He says he sees it. And he'll take care of it. But nothing happens. "You call this taking care or it, God? They're still doing it/It's still happening! And I don't want it! I don't <i>want</i> it! God!" Then, with his arms around me, trying to calm me down like Mom's were around Ellie, he says,<br />
<br />
"Look at me. No, look at <i>me.</i> Who's in charge? Do you trust me to take care of it? I see the problem and I will fix it but you need to obey me and calm yourself." <br />
<br />
I'm the frantic 7 year old who doesn't want water spilled on her bear. It's not a huge important issue, but it is 'wrong.' And I don't want it. I want God to act <i>now</i> and fix it. But He's got this. And he's in charge.<br />
<br />
As soon as Ellie was calmed down Mom tackled the task of stopping the soaking of yon stuffed animal. She took care of it like she promised, <i>and God will too. </i>Be at rest, my soul. Cease your raging. Rest in God.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-72525304575774964882016-01-12T04:06:00.000-06:002016-01-12T04:06:44.060-06:00Hawaii Week 1 <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOl5hDp9n-2bXlGXUWK4z7G6ZnZBNkWCCUKF70fe4quOK8O1IzQnmFgq8ANzeNdby0s8x5sviYgDceaq3b30YbAqAStJrSvnDiK3gv_94XJadK6aGt3y-8-VzI147hIXQrcLOb_OXALIQV/s1600/IMG_0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOl5hDp9n-2bXlGXUWK4z7G6ZnZBNkWCCUKF70fe4quOK8O1IzQnmFgq8ANzeNdby0s8x5sviYgDceaq3b30YbAqAStJrSvnDiK3gv_94XJadK6aGt3y-8-VzI147hIXQrcLOb_OXALIQV/s640/IMG_0014.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diamond head and the Waikiki coast</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
Those who know me in "real life," know that I am back in Hawaii for 2 months to help out some family friends. And by help I mean alternate between being a 2nd mom/aunt, cook, fashion advisor, organizer, navigator, seamstress, teacher, friend, or musician at a moments notice. Actually, it's a lot like regular life, except it's a little warmer and there are 4 extra little humans to look after. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP3QlytWYrlJ5VAG8jJf_TM6fYrATS0r95xMzXg3oDhFoJDd3mMxHURcgIUFciI6Cl8oTfRGwcpIRPcr2FRMykgPS5SSdEIDuWbfhyPn0-3771BoQcNGcI-BxAKKZUhH1R-BV29nR4Snec/s1600/IMG_0639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP3QlytWYrlJ5VAG8jJf_TM6fYrATS0r95xMzXg3oDhFoJDd3mMxHURcgIUFciI6Cl8oTfRGwcpIRPcr2FRMykgPS5SSdEIDuWbfhyPn0-3771BoQcNGcI-BxAKKZUhH1R-BV29nR4Snec/s400/IMG_0639.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going for adventures with littles</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
I'm not sure how to say this next bit. . . Hawaii has incredible natural beauty and an agreeable climate, but these things don't change everyday life. (granted there is an island sub-culture that is a little different) Busy moms still live in Hawaii like busy moms in Illinois, or New York, Or Idaho. It's hard. And you don't always get to sit back and appreciate extra things like the mountain you're living on or the vast ocean visible out your window because you're washing dirty hands, correcting math homework, making dinner, answering your 300th question today, or trying to comfort a child over a dead bird. Y'all have moms. Go thank them. Text 'em, call 'em, write them a note -- whatever will get it done. Moms are heroes. It's not easy to raise 4 kids under 7, but hopefully I can make it just a little easier for this family over the next 2 months.<br />
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Now, having been here on O'ahu before, I didn't immediately experience the awe and wonder of seeing all the unique trees, clear water, and beautiful mountains this time. That doesn't mean there aren't any re-entry surprises or re-realizations though. Things like. . .</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>not being able to figure out the Japanese style shower, and then accidentally having a bath with a<i> gecko</i>.</li>
<li>how hard the pavement is (seriously, is it the volcanic element? The rocks, and pavement are all sharper and harder than my midwest variety).</li>
<li>hearing reveille float across the water from the Pearl Harbor/Hickam Base every morning at 7:55 (Don't know what it sounds like? Check <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGnZxcS7VKA">this out</a>).</li>
<li>Hawaii is a true American smelting pot, but it has a different recipe. We're all a beautiful conglomeration of almost every other nation/ethnicity, but in Rockford, we have many "classic" Americans (black/white is the easiest way to describe it -- people who immigrated long ago from Europe, Africa, and the Caribbean), but also many Mexican, Indian, and Arab people. Here in Hawaii there is a much stronger Asian influence than in Rockford. What I'm (probably very ignorantly) calling "classic" Americans aren't the majority at all, but are blended in with the native Hawaiian, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, or other south Asian cultures. </li>
<li>salt water still hurts my eyes</li>
<li>friends are hard to make, and I miss mine back on the mainland </li>
<li>selfies are so awkward</li>
<li>coconut, mango, and pineapple are a way of life, not exotic fruits.</li>
<li>there are SO many military servicemen and women here. If I stopped to thank each one like I do at home I'd never get anything else done.</li>
<li>everything is so dang expensive here. Many things are twice as much, but real estate is at least 4 times what it is in Rockford. </li>
</ul>
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I've tried to start good habits here like getting up and going to bed early, eating well, practicing the piano everyday and exercising daily with mild success. I got sick soon after I got here and it really threw my rhythm off. Then I went a little gung-ho on the push-ups for during my exercise and my upper back is currently in a whiplash-like state. So thankful for foam rollers and tennis balls to try to loosen up my crazy muscles. Let's see what week 2 brings!</div>
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BAbovOOqnx9/" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">"Mightier than the thunders of many waters, mightier than the #waves of the sea, the Lord on high is mighty!' Psalm 93:4 Made it to the beach this week! The color of the water is breathtaking, but it's the waves that mesmerize me. I have to remind myself every couple minutes that they don't turn off. (Side effect of growing up with wave pools instead of oceans). They never give up. #waterproofcamera #hawaii #surfselfie</a></div>
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A photo posted by Joanna Webber (@josnazz) on <time datetime="2016-01-12T08:11:43+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Jan 12, 2016 at 12:11am PST</time></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-43387602389856231942015-12-15T14:42:00.002-06:002015-12-15T14:42:47.613-06:00Concerning Key GripsHave you seen this add (below) by The New Yorker? I don't know if it's on mainstream TV or not because I only really watch TV on dramafever.com (and yes, it's always in a Korean). It's truly a work of art. The visuals, sounds (or lack thereof), and even the plot draw me in every time. Go ahead and watch it first. Go on. It's only 59 Seconds.<br />
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The add immediately grabbed my attention because it reminded me of <i>me</i> in so many ways. This story is basically how I live everyday. I don't know if it's an INFJ/INTJ hybrid thing or if it's a "Jo" thing, but I feel like the director understands <i>me</i>. <br />
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He/she understands how even though I'm living <i>my</i> life I don't feel like it's really about me. I may, like the guy in the add, be the main character, but the story isn't actually about me. I see people. I notice things. Sometimes I interact. I wonder. I analyze. I empathize. I acknowledge. Then somehow I manage to check my watch and actually live my life too.<br />
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I've actually thought before that a movie about my life would be pretty boring. It would just be snippets from other people's movies that I was an extra in. Maybe in one I'd have a credited role like "the best friend," but another would be "girl that held the door open," or "acquaintance that made the party fairly tolerable," or maybe "key grip." Key grips aren't even in movies, they just help make them possible (often stabilizing cameras or holding the microphones just out of the shot) But don't get me wrong -- <b>this isn't a pity party! It's just my reality. </b><br />
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Ever since I can remember I've been fascinated by people's stories. Before I was old enough to actually read fiction I would just look at the pictures in books and wonder what their stories were. There was one particular book that had a simple poem about God loving people from all over the world in it, but I "read" it because it had pictures of kids in traditional clothing from cultures all around the world. I would make up my own stories for each of the kids in the illustrations and pick my favorite outfits.<br />
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As I got older I was either reading someone else's story in a book or acting in my own make-believe world. I loved playing make believe so much that I often would assign members of my family roles in my imaginary world and keep playing in my head over dinner time. Mom, I apologize for all those times I said nothing at the table -- I didn't want to break character by talking about math class or who would mow the lawn. :) My best (you could read "only" here) friends were also the imaginative sort, so we would play together outside for hours. We had great times, but I lived in my head so much that I was perceived as a shy/rude kid. Looking back I probably over-dosed on fiction.<br />
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Six years ago things changed. While I had admitted by sinful state and accepted Jesus' sacrifice on the cross in my place and thereby been "saved" from God's wrath at a very young age, I didn't fully grasp what that inward change would/should eventually look like on the outside. At the age of 15 something clicked and I started to realize how big the world is and how long eternity is. I saw afresh how I had been basically a zombie -- dead spiritually but walking through life, and that now I was reborn to life that has hope and purpose. I started to see that life isn't about me because it isn't mine.<br />
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Philippians 1: 20-21ish (NLT) reads "And I trust that my life will bring honor to Christ, whether I live or die. For to me, living means living for Christ." My life was no longer mine. At 15 I started to see God's heart and understand his bigger plan and purpose. Sometimes growing up in the church makes simple things meaningless because we hear them so often. Even important things like <i>God loves people.</i> God will punish people for their sin because he is just and holy, but he <i>loves</i> them. He wants them to be fulfilled, and experience the <i>fullness of joy and happiness</i> so he did the extreme. He wove the thread of redemption into the story and he reaches out to you individually. Personally. He loves YOU. He <i>wants</i> YOU.<br />
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This is what I started to realize at 15. This is why I still love stories. This is why people are the most important thing. They don't just exist in books or in my imagination anymore. They breathe, and laugh, and think, and are the main characters in their stories. And Jesus loves them. And everyday I have the opportunity to interact with these messy, beautiful, humans and try to see them through God's eyes.<br />
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This is why I don't mind being a key grip. This is why I don't mind letting others take the stage. This is why I love being in the background. This is why I really like this add. Yeah, it's for a magazine of some sort, but it's about the people. It's about seeing things differently. It's about caring. It's about giving the gift of attention. <br />
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Take some time today to <i>see </i>people. Speak life. Be extravagant. Let people know they're valuable. Because they are. YOU are. You're priceless.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/NFO29qONu6w?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-44299746570111574222015-11-25T20:43:00.001-06:002015-11-25T20:43:35.875-06:00Thanksgiving with Barbie<div>
"I love playing Barbies. I can create so many stories with them." </div>
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I was working to put a meal together in the kitchen when Emily came in and started telling me the virtues of playing with Barbies. Imagination and what-not. I was distracted, but tried to make an effort appear interested amidst my bustle. I asked about her latest story and then continued to work.</div>
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Something about three rich girls in a palace going on a tour of the countryside -- so far, so typical. Where did I put that can opener down?</div>
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Then the evil tour guide abandons them in the forest and goes back to take over the palace-- Ah! Some action. Always a damsel in distress. What temperature does this oven have to be again?</div>
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The bad guy starts spending their money while they have to find out how to get home with scarce resources -- Girl power! Not the prince I was expecting. Red bell pepper is kinda like celery, right?</div>
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I continued to listen absentmindedly till I heard the following words: "Yeah. See, the girls were kinda spoiled before. Now that they're out on their own they have to help each other. They don't have much money with them so they have to be creative. Because they don't have much now and the bad guy is stealing their money <b>they are learning to be thankful for the things they do have</b>."</div>
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She ran off to wash her hands or something and I was left to ponder. First, how awesome my little sister is to be "teaching" others to be thankful, strong, and selfless, and second, how true it is that you don't realize the good things you have until they are gone -- be it possessions, health, job, or even friends.</div>
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There are a number of things in my life right now that will not last (Transition time between school and full-time adulting). Really good things. This Thanksgiving I'm not going to wait till something is gone to value it. </div>
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Like those Barbies, I may have to find creative ways to use my resources and rely on new people, but it is teaching me to really appreciate what I have. I'm finding my way back to the palace -- creating a life -- and I'm so thankful for the things (and people) I <i>do</i> have. Y'all are the bomb.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5774961525021506395.post-53926643544588382272015-11-17T13:51:00.000-06:002015-11-25T20:44:50.757-06:00Back to School Party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Because days like these are worth remembering:</div>
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Part 1: Swings, Frisbee, and Tie-dying</div>
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Because everyone knows that when your jam comes on, you do push-ups.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Part 2: Water balloon fights and games</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwqYdP2g8RTaIwP76f9VFrFmkDR4yNOJ2LDRAApjDiyC0112Xg0JtGtAMjfRFIlJzf7r3c5w3SPmXe1H9yuaDEEP0m2Kll9Cc3Oye_642kYC9hXEpsV0J98-kzH9dnzJhznWY6l9A1s7HU/s1600/IMG_0066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwqYdP2g8RTaIwP76f9VFrFmkDR4yNOJ2LDRAApjDiyC0112Xg0JtGtAMjfRFIlJzf7r3c5w3SPmXe1H9yuaDEEP0m2Kll9Cc3Oye_642kYC9hXEpsV0J98-kzH9dnzJhznWY6l9A1s7HU/s640/IMG_0066.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Probably one of my favorite moments. Everyone put there phones here to keep them safe and then forgot about them. We had a group of high school and college students interacting and having fun instead of staring at their phones. :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1IWfshIOR7ECjYCZRH77PwjNHzpg4QhnYY9vXlkO_hD2NtRXuhMoLVGmBdinQb2fwVYSbudMAoPfE9oh3dfny4j0fS3ZlW14TximjdnTH6fi2TJRAIiZvO-3NL2Nqs0pMXpRNP8tZXxn/s1600/IMG_0089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1IWfshIOR7ECjYCZRH77PwjNHzpg4QhnYY9vXlkO_hD2NtRXuhMoLVGmBdinQb2fwVYSbudMAoPfE9oh3dfny4j0fS3ZlW14TximjdnTH6fi2TJRAIiZvO-3NL2Nqs0pMXpRNP8tZXxn/s640/IMG_0089.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kara's face!!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjKOLRQkcndqK6kcDn7ZEvrjIWhwegymkWOPtoI_P85A_XCROiAdEEDvB6G2VGGynR9Z3mztiwnHrKWnhIdmxq6uxag3xIwjcgoK2wZjD9OHjDYmxYrBzbHOXcCWDeUC7mGxVSzIwzrEQq/s1600/IMG_0114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjKOLRQkcndqK6kcDn7ZEvrjIWhwegymkWOPtoI_P85A_XCROiAdEEDvB6G2VGGynR9Z3mztiwnHrKWnhIdmxq6uxag3xIwjcgoK2wZjD9OHjDYmxYrBzbHOXcCWDeUC7mGxVSzIwzrEQq/s640/IMG_0114.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The blast crater from the above balloon.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmJSDolGDX-9ee8shLnWRHfnidnd42lyQ1dmm7Ix6aP_D1vaWZ3DThX2ObSvd-wedADb1MS4dEhyphenhyphensGUCePnO2Oa8eK7nijEhPG8VxxYleqJ70yNvu3Pw7zEF2vC3uPmupx7-P-uofTSZY8/s1600/IMG_0136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmJSDolGDX-9ee8shLnWRHfnidnd42lyQ1dmm7Ix6aP_D1vaWZ3DThX2ObSvd-wedADb1MS4dEhyphenhyphensGUCePnO2Oa8eK7nijEhPG8VxxYleqJ70yNvu3Pw7zEF2vC3uPmupx7-P-uofTSZY8/s640/IMG_0136.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The balloon went to high and popped on the tree -- here their faces are anticipating the shower to come.</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Championship match. Sometimes you get second place AND you get clobbered with the ballon. Those are good times. :)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxK0FtYJrFE5WeY8GOh8VV5_og7oFpc9rd1BXrbsntNFc4NsFEWFPRbSgMSU3iKM_HgmtCVjtSSXqKwadka2KctNU26CFb-FbzCZmBhrSiGdmHyxxtdizP5WInbWgCX2gdxYJmzaypKv0/s1600/IMG_0203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxK0FtYJrFE5WeY8GOh8VV5_og7oFpc9rd1BXrbsntNFc4NsFEWFPRbSgMSU3iKM_HgmtCVjtSSXqKwadka2KctNU26CFb-FbzCZmBhrSiGdmHyxxtdizP5WInbWgCX2gdxYJmzaypKv0/s400/IMG_0203.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good game</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Part 3: Hymn sing at the Rock Cut State Park, s'mores, and sparklers. </div>
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And summer passed happily away.</div>
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