tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-326354422024-03-07T00:23:45.551-08:00...and then...... just when you have it all figured out ...Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.comBlogger497125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-65076824829541558442011-07-31T06:31:00.000-07:002011-07-31T06:39:47.993-07:00Guess I was supposed to do this 10 days inna Row . . .<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;">9 things I love. . . . there's so many . . . </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">10. Listening to horses eat in the morning.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">9. Quilting.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">8. Amy's laugh.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">7. Understanding/seeing a scripture in a whole new way.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">6. Talking to Cindy.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">5. The sound of birdsong in the morning.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">4. Coffee with Robert on the back porch.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">3. When I see that God has moved in my life while I went my ignorant way. </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">2. Robert and the fam.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">10. My God. My Father, my Savior, my Spirit. </span><br /></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-65876506140584526242011-07-14T20:54:00.000-07:002011-07-14T21:06:07.190-07:0010 Secrets About Me<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;"> . . whether you wanna know them or not . . . </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">1. I wish I didn't feel the need to entertain all the time!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">2. It is nearly impossible to get past my wall once I put it up.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">3. I don't paint or draw serious pictures because I cannot please myself ever.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">4. I've never done 1 single pull up in all my life.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">5. It is very very easy to hurt my feelings but you'll rarely know it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">6. I wanted to be a professional singer all though my junior high school years.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">7. I wanted to be an actress throughout my high school years.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">8. I'm afraid of losing weight.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">9. I own over 450 movies. And I re watch them over and over.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">10. I have a phobia about being lost.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-38615382227031306832011-07-09T03:47:00.000-07:002011-07-09T03:55:54.857-07:00Okay, Amy . . . I'll bite.<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">. . . . <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Hmmmm</span> . . . </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">. . . . 7 things I want . . . . . </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">1. To sit in Gods lap, to walk with Christ and discuss things and to find the Spirit more.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">2. I want to be able to enjoy things more.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">3. To be able to better manage my time.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">4. To be able to accept that which I cannot understand.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">5. To see mom's face now that she realizes.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">6. To be able to go back in time, knowing what I do now, to teach, and hold and cherish my sons more than I did before.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);">7. And by far the thing I want most is Heaven. Can't wait to be able to hit those notes when I get there.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-25271342959684182822011-05-27T11:52:00.000-07:002011-05-27T12:01:22.464-07:00Placebos<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;">I've always thought placebos were horrible. Like a trick the doctor plays on you to see if you're really ill or just a hypochondriac. You take this miracle drug and </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">wham!</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> All better and thankful and . . wadda idiot. It was tic-tacs all along. It's really insulting.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">It's fake. You believe and accept and hope and it's vapor.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">So are some people. Calling themselves friends, they are just as intangible as fake medicine - the tic-tac. You believe and love them and depend on them and </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">WHAM </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">- they are gone, giggling at their insensitive cleverness and at your ignorance.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">You're left feeling stupid and used. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Gag, I hate that.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-20070386150571659832011-05-12T06:01:00.000-07:002011-05-13T13:48:22.006-07:00A Definition<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">Faith is hanging on when it just ain't possible to hang on one second longer. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Faith is believing that there is good out there no matter how much rotten junk you get hurled at you.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Faith is smiling and doing for others when then are jerks or don't even care that you're breathing but you do it anyway.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br />Faith is knowing (not just believing) that you are never (never) all alone. No matter how tangibly black life gets, you are not by yourself.<br /><br />Faith is a working verb most of the time. It's a horrific workout. It's a merciless taskmaster and it is worth every single second you put into it. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic;">EVERY</span> single second you put into it.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-86315493623265354692011-05-04T14:33:00.000-07:002011-05-04T14:36:33.267-07:00Mornin!<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;">The other morning I was lazing in bed. when I turned my head to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">snuggle</span> into the pillow and - -<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"> GAG</span>! The stench was <span style="font-style: italic;">awful</span>! <span style="font-style: italic;">Who</span> had done <span style="font-style: italic;">what</span> on my pillow? It was . . . it was . . . </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Pretty doggone pathetic when you have to get up to brush your teeth to keep from offending yourself</span></span>.Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-11749583534924208662011-04-01T04:22:00.001-07:002011-04-01T04:26:17.573-07:00It's an Age Thing<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;">So Robert and I decided to change sides of the bed. Don't really know why, but for me, it was sorta exciting - (I </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;">GOTTA</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> get out more.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">So here I am, all snuggled on the left hand side, reading, happy as a clam...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">It lasted 2 nights. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Much further to the bathroom over there.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-75133664759674699122011-03-28T23:27:00.001-07:002011-03-28T23:43:02.534-07:00The Bright Side<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Where to start - where to start - where to start?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Do I tell about the absolute devastation of the break up of my second sons marriage? Or about the calm that Christ <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">continues</span> to drip into my mind to calm me?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Do I tell of the shock of Mikes death? Or do I talk of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">anonymously</span> sent flowers that totally blew me away with their message; " . . . you are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">truly</span> loved."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Do I tell of the empty gut, hollowed out pain of these two life changing events happening in 2 days or do I tell of the amazing sound of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Jaci's</span> timid voice . . .("Hi. It's me.") not sure about talking to me but calling anyway?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Do I tell of the trip to and from *** (not heaven) - 60 hours behind the wheel while my sisters slept or do I tell about the glory of the Mojave`, the beauty of a desert sky . . . the feel of the hand of faith never leaving?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Do I tell about Jarred's face or about how he finally came home, for real - - the son I used to know?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Do I tell of the lowest lows, the highest of highs, the certainty of the love of a Man who will never <span style="font-style: italic;">ever</span> leave me to face the rotten parts of this world alone or about the love of the Man who will always make sure I see Him in the very air that swirls around me?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">What a ride.</span><br /></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-57939485978826933202011-03-04T03:42:00.001-08:002011-03-04T03:51:11.055-08:00A Fruity TMI<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">When <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Jaci</span> was visiting once, I was doing her laundry - I like to do laundry . . . it's a habit I'm working to overcome. While folding I noticed a stupid little pair of underwear - and I do mean weird. It was all <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">girley</span> but had a fly that was sewn closed. "How fruit!" I said aloud.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">... and then . . . fast forward three years - -- </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">Here's Jackie, running around <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Walmart</span>, looking for new underwear because mine keep working their way down as I work out. I see, in the ladies section, 'Boy briefs". Well, that's fruit. Hoping they'll be able to stay the course, I bought a package.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">How amazing they are!!!! They stay up, they cover so much of me (a blessing to Robert) and they are more comfortable than any thing I've put on my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">hiney</span>!!!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">That <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Jaci</span>! She's so ahead of her time!</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-62251402069568303612011-02-23T06:03:00.000-08:002011-02-23T06:08:31.365-08:00Takin the World Up to Speed<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">Things that have happened since I fell off the face of the earth:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Done the Beth Moore 'Daniel' study three times.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Watched my sweet Amy in pain - did not like that one single bit.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">been sick for a month straight - no lie - a month . . </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">visited old Mexico in downtown San Antonio.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Bought a new horse.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Started up riding classes again.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Started learning </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" style="font-family:verdana;">Spanish</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> on my </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" style="font-family:verdana;">Rosetta</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> stone.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">...and then ...</span><br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" style="font-family:verdana;">OMIWORD</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">!!!! I have become whet I never ever thought I'd be . . .a quilter. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Took a class at the </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" style="font-family:verdana;">Jourdanton</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Community center made a quilt and wham, I am so hooked! It's like I can't get enough of it. Ever.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Poor Robert!</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-73363713507801939222010-11-09T05:55:00.000-08:002010-11-10T05:42:58.889-08:00HA!<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >I was </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" >really</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" > really irritated at Robert the other day. See, I'd not only worked on Christmas, I had cleaned out a closet, did the floors, super scrubbed the </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" >bathroom</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >, I also ironed every single piece of work </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" >clothes</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" > in the basket. Added to the greatness of 'me' was the fact that I was feeling might might puny. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" >Wadda</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" > woman I was! What a wife my wise husband had snagged!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >So he comes home, kisses me, asks If I'd thrown hay to the horses and then just breezes out to do that </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >without seeing a thing, without saying a thing.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >I was furious!!! I mean , really </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" >really</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" > </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" ></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >indignant. I </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" >coughed</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" > as I looked at the </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" >closed</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" > door he'd just gone through. That thoughtless, uncaring, self centered . . .</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" > . . . and then . . .</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >And then I realized he was going to feed</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" > my</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" > horses for me. He'd been at work all day to make sure I had horses and chickens and supplies to scrapbook, knit, draw, study . . . Then he comes in, feeds, takes care of the chickens, takes care of the stuff that needs fixing . . . </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >The list of things Robert does just because is endless. To keep me happy, to make me feel secure, because that is his job.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >And I don't think I've ever really thanked him for that.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >What a thoughtless, uncaring, self centered scum I am.</span><br /></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-38896037200390729222010-10-18T07:17:00.001-07:002010-10-18T07:20:48.665-07:00So long . . .<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">I ditched </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" style="font-family:verdana;">Facebook</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Too much time, too much junk coming through. I have had enough. Finally.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Yep - - -you read that right. Goodbye </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" style="font-family:verdana;">Frontierville</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">. Gonna do without the toll booth, the 33x33 expansion . . .the peanuts. Goodbye </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" style="font-family:verdana;">farmville</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> requests, goodbye </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" style="font-family:verdana;">political</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> propaganda, good bye network that gives my information to </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" style="font-family:verdana;">advertisers</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Don't think I'm gonna be </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" style="font-family:verdana;">missin</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> you much.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-26379208673169358622010-09-26T20:52:00.001-07:002010-09-26T20:58:25.033-07:00Not sure where this came from . . .<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >I am surrounded by those who want to kill me.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >I stand up for you, God and the wolves close in.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >I love You more than every <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">single</span> day. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Because</span> only You know <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">my </span>heart and love me.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >I am the center of your world, Lord. Let me never forget that.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >Avenge me, Father. I am too tired to keep this up.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >Confusion is my lover, Lord. It swirls around me like a thick mist, obscuring truth.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >Don't you rotten people realize who loves me? Don't you know who you're messing with when you mess with me? His name is God. Alpha. Omega. I Am. This is </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" >my</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" > Father.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-family:verdana;" >I'm thinking David wrote something along those lines somewhere in the Psalms.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-family:verdana;" >I so know how he feels.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-15683759924683236802010-08-19T08:35:00.000-07:002010-08-19T08:42:26.019-07:00Summer 2010<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have grasped a few '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">do's</span>' and '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">don'ts</span>' that I will hold with determination.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Don't keep 5 kids under the age of 5 for more than 2 weeks. It will destroy your constitution.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Do make sure you keep 5 kids under 5 at least once a year . . . it feeds the soul.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Don't believe it when the chicken books say your chickens will be laying in 4 months. That's a lie.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Don't believe the salesman who promises you have 2 female ducks and just one drake. Lies . . all lies . . .</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Don't allow yourself to get overheated when your my age and my weight. It destroys the rest of the summer.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Don't put your horse at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">JJ</span> and Corinna's - they get really fat really quick.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Do give with all you have to those who don't deserve it. It makes God smile.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Do have Cocoa <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">krispies</span> whenever you want. You are a grownup, you know.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Do spend more time in prayer and Bible study. There just ain't no other way to get to know Him.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-37459409165966283702010-05-28T20:14:00.000-07:002010-10-18T07:26:08.664-07:00Sweet June<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">Everyday I ask the air -" Is it the end of May yet? Are we into June?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Because:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I get Amy back.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I get close to seeing my babies - Rob and Jarred.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I get to harvest tomato's.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I get closer to swim with my grand kids.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I get to eat a lot more bbq.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I get closer to gathering eggs.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">It gets much easier to remember my youth - summer vacations.<br /><br />I am just this side of holding Ava, chasing Jocey, laughing with JooJoo, jumping on the trampoline with James and singing with Kaia.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"> . . . and then . . .</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Then I look into the sky and say: "Is it September yet?"</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-85717254317078954252010-04-21T15:55:00.001-07:002010-10-18T07:26:29.905-07:00A true story<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">An Amish elder man sat in a public briefing. There were 52 reporters there who wanted to ask <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">questions</span> about all things Amish.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">"What makes the Amish different from all other denominations?" one <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">reporter</span> asked.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">The elder scratched his beard and asked: "Who in here owns a television?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">52 hands went up.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Who in here thinks that there are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">questionable</span> things on television that might erode the family?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">52 hands went up.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Now, who is going to go home and get rid of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">their</span> television?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">No hands went up.<br /><br />"That," the elder said "is the difference."<br /><br />True story.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And this is exactly the reason I have a problem with those who see wrong, or see sin or see questionable situations and don't change. This is exactly the reason I am a member of Christ's church. Because it's all about changing into, <span style="font-style: italic;">not skating around,</span> Him. </span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-68430230512636751272010-04-06T11:24:00.000-07:002010-10-18T07:25:39.325-07:00Natural Vanilla Bean<span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Beaner</span> . . she not dirty she cleaner'</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Not a bone in her that's meaner</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">She knows a lot, she's not greener</span><br /> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Tell me have you seen her?</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">'</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">When I got Nellie I was looking for a dog that would breed with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Brymer</span>. He was this tiny little guy who needed a girl toy. So I scanned the paper and found a breeder in Canyon Lake. Off I went to check out this 'female, orange toy <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Pomeranian</span>. Parents on site'</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">There were about 53 hundred dogs there, all the offspring of this one orange male who looked about him with a sort of benevolence. The master of all he surveyed. I was awed by his looks then crashed to the ground when I saw "Wendy".</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">She was in that odd 3 month old puppy stage where they have none of the looks or hair of the breed. She kept jumping on the fence, desperate to get attention. The people who had first bought her had to bring her back, so she was a reject. I was not impressed, but she was what I needed, so I wrote a check and took her home. I called her natural vanilla Bean because that was my favorite and I had to have a name that began with a 'B'. (Not sure why.)</span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Everyone who saw her thought she was unimpressive but sweet. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Brymer</span> liked her from the get go but he was the only one. Even Robert raised any eyebrow and said; " . . .oh, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">kay</span> . . ."</span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">She loved me from the second she sat on my chest. I was the center of her world. I was her personal gift from God. Only my hand would do. Only my smile would cause her to rush across the room. Her devotion was without limits, without <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">boundary</span>, with no reservation. She walks in her comma to me. She snores on my lap. </span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">To me, Natural Vanilla Bean by Blue Bell is the absolute best ice cream made. There shouldn't even be room on the shelf for any of those other yellow tubs. </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" > There is no substitute</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">, there is no ice cream close. If there is none at the store, I do without. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I named her well.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-25773331330470403562010-04-03T11:47:00.000-07:002010-04-03T11:52:41.215-07:00Gut Punched<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Sometimes you realize something, or find out something, or finally accept something that leaves you open mouthed with shock. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">It's really not going to get better this time. </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">It's really happening. </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">How in the world am I to accept this, Father? <br />How can I stand with this terrible knowledge?<br /><br />I cannot, I <span style="font-style: italic;">will not</span> accept it . . It just isn't in me . . <br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Oh, mothers heart that cannot let go. </span><br /></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-39779341819535672822010-03-12T17:09:00.001-08:002010-03-12T17:19:46.187-08:00Another List<span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;" >The older I get the less I know.<br /><br />The older I get the more I gape with incredulous awe at youth.<br /><br />The older I get the easier it is to give people a second or third chance.<br /><br />The older I get, the easier it is to understand the power of friendship.<br /><br />The older I get the harder it is to let people in.<br /><br />The older I get, the more set in my opinions I become.<br /><br />The older I get, the more I see the importance of friendship in a marriage.<br /><br />The older I get, the less I understand those who consistently change currents.<br /><br />The older I get the more some things hurt.<br /><br />It's easier to laugh.<br />Harder to cry.<br />Easy to forgive.<br />Harder to understand.<br />Easier to understand.<br />Harder to say exactly how I feel.<br />Easier to just go to bed earlier.<br /></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-85159241678387478862010-03-09T11:12:00.000-08:002010-03-09T11:23:01.609-08:00Where's the Freedom?<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">How do you find the line between serving and spreading yourself too thin?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I find myself surrounded by a cage of obligations which I have built. I can't seem to be able to say "No" to people, to situations . . it's as if I don't do something, maybe <span style="font-style: italic;">nothing</span> will be done. And if <span style="font-style: italic;">nothing</span> happens, how will they see God? Does no one worry about this but me?<br /><br />And as I hear myself agreeing to, promising to, <span style="font-style: italic;">volunteering to</span> . . I can't believe that the people <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">asking</span> can't see that I am in trouble. Or that the people watching me, shaking their heads that I'm " . . over doing it", <span style="font-style: italic;">do not help</span>.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">But I say nothing to them as they hug me with relieved thanks.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">There is no way to obliterate some without pain, anger, confusion . . . </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Father, save me from myself.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-12700860261840986352010-02-10T09:17:00.000-08:002010-02-10T09:23:58.794-08:00To Dana<span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;">While waiting to take the Lords supper in Denver, I handed James a green crayon. He gave me a side glance, smiled and said: "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Oo</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">mah</span>? Did you know I love you?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I said: "Why, yes, I did know that. Are you aware of how much I love you?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">James: "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Yes'm</span>." </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">And he looked at me with these amazing chocolate eyes, twinkling as if we held a secret. Then he went back to the crayon. The surge of love I had for him at that second was astounding.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">. . . and then . . .</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">And then I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">realized</span> that Christ had an '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Oo</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">mah</span>' just like James did. Christ smiled at her, adored her. Christ wanted to sit next to her. His eyes lit up when she entered a room. They twinkled at the sound of her voice. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">And my sin killed that little boy. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I told Dana once that the Lords supper was sometimes just a reminder of what/Who we serve. But sometimes it makes my world tilt.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">This was one of those times.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-18855114139071194122010-01-25T13:40:00.000-08:002010-01-25T13:44:39.183-08:00<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;">I watched Carol run the little horse, Duke, around the round pen for the 10 <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">hundredth</span> time. Her eyes sparkled, her walk had spring, her mouth laughed. As he messed up, she asked me how to fix it and he learned. And Carols eyes sparkled. When he did things right, she lavished him with praise and Carols eyes sparkled</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'm introducing her to something she didn't even know she loved. I'm able to teach her how to live a new time in her life <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">safely</span>.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Father, maybe, just maybe, all this time and money spent on horses hasn't gone to waste.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-63783761203941741192010-01-20T11:54:00.000-08:002010-01-20T13:29:29.077-08:00December 2007<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Mom: I forgive . . .<br /><br />Mike: I regret . . . </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Cindy: I wish . . .</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Nada: I understand . . .</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Cheri: I </span><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">dreamt</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> . . .</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Kelly: I cried . . .</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Robert: I remember . . .</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Robby: I am sorry . . .</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Jarred: I release . . . </span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-81061985474835536452010-01-11T16:24:00.001-08:002010-01-11T16:31:52.053-08:00Without Cover<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;">At my farm on Coughran road, in the master bath, you exited the shower right in front of a full length mirror. I used to roll my eyes and actually say: "Gag!" out loud.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I don't like being naked. I don't like what I see. There's too much work to be done that I can no longer hide from. I can't pretend that I am what I am not. Even to myself.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I don't like to become vulnerable. I don't like opening up. Because what is obvious can no longer be ignored. I am forced to work. <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> </span></span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;">Forced to grow. Forced to go against all the "Hey, it's just the way you are" and become more.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32635442.post-91451212897600941692010-01-07T13:32:00.000-08:002010-01-07T13:54:20.568-08:00A Tale of Two Worlds<span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">She was large and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">clumsy</span>. She didn't look you in the eye. She spoke softly, if at all. She didn't offer opinions. I watched her stumble through life, and failed to notice the composition of the heart beneath that white cotton shirt. I never gave her the time of day, but she lit up like a candle when I rounded the corner. She knew my name. She looked for me in a crowd. She never held my apathy against me. One day I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">realized</span> the absolute diamond she really was, I searched for her then found her. I hugged her for all the time lost, a plea for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">forgiveness</span> for all my disregard. She held me as if I'd </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >always </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">been there for her. I closed my eyes and was blown away by the shining beauty of Coleen. She'd been handed a dull unremarkable rock from life. And she thought it was amazing.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">She was like something out of a magazine. Built like every single <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">worldly</span> man envisioned, she strutted her face and figure through life. Her eyes were <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">provocative</span> when they wanted to be, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">contemptuous</span> to anything beneath the perfection she had been granted. Her wishes would be adhered to. She wore her clothes tight. She loved makeup. She laughed only at <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">crass</span> remarks, unless there was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">something</span> to be gained from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">pretension</span>. No fault was ever laid on her door - this was a fact she declared at every opportunity. She was the shining sun that the planets <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">spun</span> about. Her perception of the world honestly went no further than that. No deeper. She was handed a shining scepter from life and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">demanded</span> it be gold. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I am learning that we don't need eyes to see the world. In fact, we see better without them.</span></span>Jackiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15190327253404830339noreply@blogger.com0