tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42796603180556857892024-03-05T03:33:18.260-05:00The Word of God and a Cup of JoeA blog to encourage, challenge, refresh and renew based on the Word and grace of God.Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.comBlogger408125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-86696251972057512742012-08-22T06:57:00.000-04:002012-08-22T06:57:09.131-04:00LORD, HELP ME WITH MY DOUBT - A Giveaway<div style="text-align: center;">
Sweet Reader.... I am totally bribing you. </div>
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A giveaway awaits.</div>
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Come over<a href="http://www.beckycrenshaw.com/"> </a><a href="http://www.beckycrenshaw.com/">here to my new website</a> to see.</div>
Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-64375578747799661482012-08-17T07:09:00.005-04:002012-08-17T07:09:53.671-04:00You Can Take The Boy Away From The Sword...<div style="text-align: center;">
We Have Moved....</div>
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Click <a href="http://www.beckycrenshaw.com/">HERE</a> for my new web address </div>
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and SIGN UP to receive a CUP OF JOE via email!</div>
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xoxox</div>
Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-68515888750790575292012-08-15T06:25:00.001-04:002012-08-15T06:25:22.679-04:00Prayin' Up Our Babies - Establish This Year<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Click <a href="http://beckycrenshaw.com/2012/08/15/prayin-up-our-babies-establish-this-year/">HERE </a>for today's post!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When you get there, </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I will not be posting here after this week.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">xoxo</span></div>
Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-86266823488574957382012-08-13T06:46:00.000-04:002012-08-13T06:46:16.878-04:00Prayin' Up Our Babies - Faculty & Staff<div style="text-align: center;">
Remember we've moved....</div>
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Click <a href="http://www.beckycrenshaw.com/">HERE</a> for today's post.</div>
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P.S. This is the last week I will post at this site. </div>
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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE </div>
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resubscribe via email on my new site. </div>
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Top right hand corner it says "Subscribe Via Email" - put your address there.</div>
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Yay! Thank you!</div>
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Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-56362414522895914932012-08-11T06:33:00.001-04:002012-08-11T06:33:17.881-04:00Give Us Some Peace<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Don't forget we've moved.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Here is today's post...</span></div>
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<a href="http://beckycrenshaw.com/2012/08/11/prayin-up-our-babies-give-us-some-peace/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Prayin' Up Our Babies - Give Us Some Peace</span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And when you come over, </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">PLEASE sign up to receive <i>beckycrenshaw.com</i> </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">See you there...</span></div>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-56807878006768686662012-08-09T06:34:00.000-04:002012-08-09T06:34:14.557-04:00Prayin' Up Our Babies - Good Soil<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We have moved to a new website....</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Click <a href="http://beckycrenshaw.com/2012/08/09/prayin-up-our-babies-good-soil/">HERE </a>to read today's post.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">If you haven't already, </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">(So I'll stop bothering you - wink)</span></div>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-49377479878392906712012-08-08T07:26:00.004-04:002012-08-08T07:26:40.305-04:00Prayin' Up Our Babies - Confession<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Have you made the switch with us? </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Come on over to my new website and </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Today's post is found here....</span></div>
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<a href="http://beckycrenshaw.com/2012/08/08/prayin-up-our-babies-confession/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Prayin' Up Our Babies - Confession</span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Hop on over and have a cup of Joe.</span></div>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-16123516535161300882012-08-07T05:13:00.001-04:002012-08-07T05:13:35.085-04:00Prayin' Up Our Babies<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">See the blogpost,</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> "Prayin' Up Our Babies"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> on my new website....</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.beckycrenshaw.com/">www.beckycrenshaw.com</a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Come on over!</span></div>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-69234214412122864482012-08-06T06:30:00.000-04:002012-08-06T06:31:26.031-04:00A Giveaway Awaits You....<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #76a5af; font-size: large;"><b>This is the day that the LORD has made, </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #76a5af; font-size: large;"><b>let us rejoice and be glad in it. </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #76a5af; font-size: large;"><b>Psalm 118:24</b></span></div>
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This day has been in my heart for weeks. Knowing the Lord was up to something new.</div>
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I am so excited this day has come!</div>
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We are taking a field trip! This morning. Yes, you and me. A one-click scavenger hunt. </div>
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I hope you have your travel mug with you. And your bags. </div>
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And grab your Bible, too. We need that.</div>
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You ready? OK. </div>
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Click <a href="http://www.beckycrenshaw.com/">HERE</a> to see!! FUN!</div>
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<br />Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-49595786954764091392012-08-05T06:50:00.004-04:002012-08-05T06:50:49.124-04:00Tomorrow... Tomorrow...<b>Good morning, sweet reader.</b><br />
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<b>Can we pinky promise? </b><br />
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<b>Will you pinky promise to visit here tomorrow morning?</b><br />
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<b>It's kinda big.</b><br />
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<b>{No, I'm not pregnant. - grin}</b><br />
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<b><i>See you in the AM!</i></b><br />
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<br />Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-14288256682526075022012-08-03T05:31:00.002-04:002012-08-03T08:36:58.362-04:00Thankful For Here<b style="font-weight: normal;">Today I link up with</b><a href="http://lisajobaker.com/" style="font-weight: bold;"> Lisa Jo</a><b style="font-weight: normal;"> at <em>Tales From The Gypsy Mama</em>. It is Five Minute Friday and we are writing on the one-word prompt... </b><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Here</span>. </i><b style="font-weight: normal;"> Five minutes set. </b><i>GO</i><b style="font-weight: normal;">...</b><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-size: large;">Thankful for Here</span></b></span></b><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age. Matthew 28:20</span></b><br />
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God is good. <b> Here</b>.<br />
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I spend too much time wanting for the <i>there</i>.<br />
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Wishing for the<i> there.</i><br />
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"Life will be easier <i>there</i>. The money will be healthier <i>there. </i>My kids will out grow <em>this</em>...then. Or<i> there."</i><br />
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But God is in the<b> here.</b> His kindness is forever, yes. But His kindness is as much forever<i> there </i>as it is forever <b>here.</b><br />
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Today, I choose to be present in the <b>here</b>. In the now. Pursing God on<em> this</em> Friday. Thankful for what God allows me <b>here.</b> Wanting not for the <i>there</i>.<br />
<br />We are commanded to not worry about the<i> there. </i> Not to store up treasures in<i> there</i>. <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But to be a steward of <b>here.</b></span> <br />
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Lord, forgive me for coveting<i> there</i>. And chance missing you<b> here</b>. Because as much growth and mercy and love still awaits me, <b>I sit in a mound of plenty right <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><em>here</em></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><em>.</em></span><br />
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I sit in Your presence <b>here.</b> In Your favor <b>here</b>.<br />
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Even if life doesn't look today like I wanted.... You knew the<b> here</b> was where You would have me. <br />
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<i>You knew.</i><br />
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So Father, I take a deep breath, and bask in Your presence with me...<b>Here</b>.<br />
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Thank you<b>. </b><br />
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Thank you that you never leave me or forsake me.<br />
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<b>Here.</b><br />
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<i>stop</i><br />
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<br />Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-85583210171566131412012-07-31T07:53:00.001-04:002012-07-31T07:53:31.075-04:00How About We Just Pray...The past week I have clocked four + hours writing two blog posts that will probably never publish.<br />
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I don't know, maybe the Lord had me write them just for Him. Or just for me. Or both. Mmm. He is teaching me a lot.<br />
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We have had a ton of life happen<i> all of a sudden. </i>Sickness, money, Mamaw, travel, marriage. Need I say more?<br />
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And I am heading out of town to see one of my dearest who lives in Kentucky. I am trying hard to squeeze in the last few weeks of summer...aren't you?<br />
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So can we just pray together? I open this blog up for your requests. I hope you will share a few things.<br />
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Will you pray for us, too? <b>We need wisdom</b>. Above all today...wisdom.<br />
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And I have 100% confidence in my answer. James says it plain and clear...<br />
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<b>If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. (v.5-7)</b><br />
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Pray that I will receive wisdom, that I will have ears to hear my Jesus, and that I will not doubt.<br />
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OK...I want to pray for you. And when you post, pray for the comments above you, too. Even if it is an unspoken request...just say..."unspoken". I want to lift your sweet name up to the Father.<br />
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Love love love...Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-91715262544295871712012-07-26T06:46:00.002-04:002012-07-26T15:36:40.224-04:00What Can Happen In Carpool<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was last Spring.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I sat waiting on two little boys. Lined up in carpool.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Minivan after minivan. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes I have to squeeze it in. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My Bible reading.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am a firm believer in the power of a quiet, sacred moment in the mornings with Jesus.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>But I am also an advocate for a "grab Him when you have a minute" moment, too.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>He speaks in both.</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I took maybe three minutes to read.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The book of Acts. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Paul.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>He was such a stud for Jesus</b>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Fearless. Flawed. And full of faith.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I never imagined God would give me a life verse, right there,</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> in the carpool line at afternoon pick-up.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I tell you. <i>I am an advocate.</i> <b>Grab Him when you can and He will bless it.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My eyes read along the words. Paul. <i> A Jesus stud. </i> Preparing himself to head out for Jerusalem, knowing good and well that "imprisonment and afflictions" awaited him.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then my eyes stopped. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Acts 20:24</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;"> </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me--the task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace.</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9C_xNy6W5vAD4bylAZcuB7HrVdlZQ-XYF3zYj1I57w6ACqaZHUtbOLW_NJpND3CfxwdL4cJz-5Sk_Pma8T91Yovb2Abszq-_EnABwEqCLfPTZlUjrX5SiZy3t5P3QvMN6NvoNTkq4aO1o/s1600/Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9C_xNy6W5vAD4bylAZcuB7HrVdlZQ-XYF3zYj1I57w6ACqaZHUtbOLW_NJpND3CfxwdL4cJz-5Sk_Pma8T91Yovb2Abszq-_EnABwEqCLfPTZlUjrX5SiZy3t5P3QvMN6NvoNTkq4aO1o/s640/Image.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There he goes. Paul summing it up my life. Right there.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In carpool.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>My life is worth nothing if I am not running </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>toward what Christ has call me to do...</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It goes down kind of rough, I know.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And here is a beautiful thing, <i>this isn't just my verse</i>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is yours, too.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are to testify to the gospel of God's grace.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>The same mission, but different ministries</b>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Merriam</b> defines <b>ministry </b>as </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>the person or thing through which <b>something is accomplished</b>. </i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>The<b> office</b> or <b>duties </b>of a ministry.</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We all have "office space" in this world. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All called to accomplish this chief end...<b>to testify to the gospel of God's grace.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>His Gospel.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b> Through you. And me. And us. And her. And him. And them. </b> </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Our lives are worth nothing if only we may finish the race set before us.</b> </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So what does an East Tennessee mama in the carpool line do </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">when God gives her a a clear thesis of the call on her life?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>She takes a picture of her Bible.</i> On her cell phone. And sends it to her Bestie.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I needed someone to know...God. Just. Spoke.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Grab Him when you can get Him.</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He will use it.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>What is your office space today? Where is your appointed territory, if you will?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it raising your children? Serving your family? </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Is it going into the boardroom and investing in that co-worker? </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(You know the one who no one really likes.)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe your office is soccer camp. Or summer school. Or the gym.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe it is the swimming pool. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Or carpool.</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">{grin}</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Grab a cup of Joe. <b>And go.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Get out the door and <b>run.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Have a great day in the office</i>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Reflect and Respond:</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #76a5af; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What comes to mind when you read Acts 20:24?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #76a5af;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;"> </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me--the task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace.</span></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #76a5af; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How does God's "Gospel of grace" display itself in your life? </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #76a5af; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Think of at least one way you can intentionally share Jesus today.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Power Verses:</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #76a5af; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Of this gospel I was made a <span class="criteria">minister</span> according to the gift of God's grace, which was given me by the working of his power. Ephesians 3:7</b></span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #76a5af; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God,who has made us competent to be ministers of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit. </span></b></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #76a5af; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2 Corinthians 3:5-6a</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Hats off to Jennifer Dalton for this awesome picture.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">For more info on her work jenny1129@gmail.com</span></div>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-81900598062711850762012-07-24T10:12:00.000-04:002012-07-26T06:47:05.066-04:00At Works In "Threes"<div style="text-align: justify;">
I couldn't stand it. I just had to read those bright green sheets. Right there. Right then.</div>
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In the hallway of the conference center at She Speaks this past weekend.</div>
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My room was too far away. And honestly, I didn't feel the need for privacy. I mean, why would I need privacy? The contents of my speaking evaluation sheets would be nothing but "wows!" and encouraging pats on the back. </div>
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Last Friday evening I sat among ten other, spirit-filled, Jesus lovin', gifted speakers. Our assignment was to give a three minute testimony. A small piece of our God story.</div>
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Being a woman who is rarely at a loss for words, the only challenge was condensing myself to three minutes. Tricky.</div>
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I was much more nervous than I anticipated. I would much prefer speaking to a room of three hundred women instead of ten. Ten Jesus-lovin', gifted speakers, at that. Did I mention that <a href="http://zoeelmore.com/">Zoe Elmore</a>, a Proverbs 31 keynote speaker, was in there too? Let me not forget her. </div>
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I wanted to speak first. Desperate to get it over with and relax. I hopped up and stood behind the large round podium. Standing tall in front of ten other speakers. All with evaluation sheets and glittery pens. Twenty eyes. All. On. Me.</div>
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Three minutes went quickly. <b>My story squeezed tight between the timer</b>. I sat down and gave the women a quiet chance to fill out my evaluation sheets. A scale of 1 to 5. One being the worst and five being best. It didn't take them long. <i>I mean, how long does it take to circle a bunch of fives? </i> I heard a few scribbles. I could only imagine... "Amazing!" "Great Job!" "You had me from hello." </div>
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I resisted the urge to peek at my sheets for an hour and a half. But as soon as we were dismissed, I found a little space, right smack dab in the middle of the hallway, to read my scores.</div>
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With each thumbing through of green paper, my heart grew sad. Four. Three Four. Three.</div>
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Apparently I said, "um" four times. And I stare at the ceiling when I lose my train of thought. Who knew? And my hair...it was in my eyes. I could use more inflection. Did I mention I said, "um" four times. Again. And again. <i>Um. Um. Um. Um</i>.</div>
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But my material. Wasn't it powerful enough to overcome the "ums"? <i>And my hair?</i><br />
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Apparently it is true. Ninety-two percent of communication is non-verbal.</div>
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My heart sank into the the floor of that conference center. Six hundred and forty-nine gifted women, walking all around me, going back to their rooms, <b>apparently not misunderstanding God's call on their life. </b> Their calling to speak. And write.</div>
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Had I missed God on this?</div>
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Did I misunderstand? "God...isn't this my calling? To speak to women? To ignite passion into the hearts of believers? Have I missed You God? Because all my threes and fours are not coinciding with what I thought I had heard from you...all these years."</div>
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I took my green papers back to my hotel room and tucked them away. I really had no desire to look at them again that night. Or ever.</div>
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I fell asleep within seconds. Seriously, y'all. Staying up until midnight will just about do this ol' girl in. I slept like a rock. And when I and woke up, my heart was as heavy as one.</div>
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<b>Before I could even slide my feet into slippers, I heard His voice.</b> A quiet and clear impression. Too loud to misunderstand.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"You came here for those threes, Becky."</span></div>
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My spirit leaned in. Listening again. God repeated...</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"I brought you here for the threes."</span></div>
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I could have cried. My pride bowing to this moment of sweet revelation from my Father.</div>
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I came for the threes and fours. </div>
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Not the fives.</div>
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I threw on my white robe and sat on the side of the bed. Opening my Bible I turned to the concordance.</div>
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Flipping to the "H's" in the back. I knew exactly the word to search.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>HUMILITY.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Are you ready for this? He took me straight to Proverbs.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>The fear of the LORD is instruction in wisdom, and humility comes before honor. Proverbs 15:33</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It is so easy to seek, or even worse, expect praise when serving in the public eye. Pats on the back and glory come easily to those up front. And I will be the very first to raise my hand and say, <i>It feels soooo good to hear sweet words of affirmation. </i> I love a good back pat.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">But I can not ignore His instruction here in Proverbs.</span></div>
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Humility first. Humility. Humility. Humility.<i> Then</i>...honor.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">In the words of the mother of Jesus herself, <b>"</b></span><b>He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble." Luke 1:52</b><br />
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I seriously can not think of another human being who experienced honor after humility more than Mary. <b>A humble young woman, given the honor of birthing the Son of God</b>.</div>
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<i>I mean.</i></div>
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Honor follows humility. </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>I took this Proverb and my big slice of humble pie back to the conference room on Saturday evening.</b> Ready to give my second presentation</span>. A five minute teaching talk. </div>
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But truth be known, <b>I was the one learning. </b> A hands-on exercise... practicing my Father's instruction.</div>
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Humility comes before honor.</div>
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At the podium I stood again, <b>honored </b>to be in the same room with these outstanding women of God, <b>honored</b> to teach God's Word, <b>honored</b> to be his child and <b>extremely humbled</b> to be a part of this event. </div>
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I opened my mouth <b>in faith </b>that HE would speak.</div>
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<i>And He did.</i> Bless the Lord and give HIM the fives. He speaks a powerful message. <br />
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Every time.</div>
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When I make myself low, He is lifted up. When I die, He lives. When I am weak, He is strong.</div>
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When I am humble... <b>God is honored.</b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">God has a history of working in threes. A set of three, actually.</span><br />
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And aren't we thankful?<br />
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<b>Today, let us be thankful for the "threes" in our lives. </b></div>
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<b>He is working in the midst of them.</b></div>
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This is my amazing group. So. Honored. To. Know. Them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyxupMgXNpopmAqtRT9TT53sH0FhsbKN7WcsPxAkt1fNlLPlYaciixhqbO21sIWc8s7n2G541mMVVLdGrup2GtH5dOYU82h6mKhOSTz2MsRDLCnJVQheMhG95QIXmYgY-6fhsn2skKHLII/s1600/DSC_1013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYz5n8ESwX_Sm0TCsTWm9QZ6RzDo7sYJjmcFc_LYIcIAoabI7An_TlrB_nl_PLLYl_6m3UKGggh4nynqeoPWidBIvXx-yoJKZohkV4MEgQh291bFxmngKlz1QLr_EQhItiME7Je6vMH-tn/s1600/DSC_1027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYz5n8ESwX_Sm0TCsTWm9QZ6RzDo7sYJjmcFc_LYIcIAoabI7An_TlrB_nl_PLLYl_6m3UKGggh4nynqeoPWidBIvXx-yoJKZohkV4MEgQh291bFxmngKlz1QLr_EQhItiME7Je6vMH-tn/s640/DSC_1027.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And there's Mrs. Zoe Elmore, herself. Loved this lady.</div>
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<b>Thank you for all of your prayers. Love...</b></div>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-14806068708145662722012-07-18T05:51:00.003-04:002012-07-18T08:43:34.595-04:00I Just Wanted To Stop By...I really shouldn't be blogging today. <br />
<br />
I should be using these five minutes to edit my work for She Speaks and polish my talks. I should be printing or packing or praying or picking out shoes. But I must be honest...I've missed this place.<br />
<br />
I need to come here because I can wear my comfy clothes, throw my hair in a messy bun and kick off my shoes. <br />
<br />
I appreciate your encouragement from last week's post. Oh my, yes. Your prayers have "rocked my face off" (as Brent says). I have felt so very loved and cheered on. <br />
<br />
I am almost finished with everything. Chapter II for <i>Chasing Skinny</i> is officially out of my heart and onto paper (whoop whoop!) <i>That moment is so golden</i>. To see it all on a screen. When words spin around my head it seems daunting to grasp at them and pull them together.<br />
<br />
So I release a big sigh of relief and rejoice that chapter 2 is unleashed and now edit-able (is that a word?).<br />
<br />
It is still a work in progress. And the enemy is still up to no good. Big shocker. He is quite relentless at whispering uglies in my ear. I just bind him and carry on. <br />
<br />
I pray the Lord has been sweet to you this past week. He loves you, you know {wink}. <br />
<br />
He has been speaking words of life and encouragement into my heart recently. This one, being one of the sweetest...<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>My enemies will turn back in the day when I call. This I know, that God is for me. Psalm 56:9</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br /></b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Mmm. Isn't that so encouraging? Your enemies "turn back" when you call on the name of the Lord. <b>They turn</b>. They must! His affection for You is<b> too big</b> for them to stick around. His power is <b>too mighty</b> for them to stand. The enemy turns back when you call on Jesus. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I. Love. This.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Let us call on God right now. </b> And listen closely...you may hear the pitter-pats of sneaky feet fleeing the other way.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Regardless of what happens today, tomorrow or any day to come...<b>God is for us.</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Regardless of our circumstances, no matter how bleak or overwhelming...<b>God is for us</b>.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">He is your biggest fan...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">God is for you.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Carry this with you today...God is for you. In every way.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">{Big hug}</span>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-71058464333882295322012-07-07T21:29:00.002-04:002012-07-26T06:46:45.032-04:00Will You Pray For Me?Hello dear friends.<br />
<br />
The next two weeks birds may be chirping a bit over here. Can I tell you why? And ask you to pray for me :) ??<br />
<br />
This time last year, my heart was a-breakin'. You see, I really, really, really, reeeaallly wanted to attend the She Speaks Conference in Concord, NC. This is an equipping weekend for women who have a passion for writing and speaking. An event that is hosted by Proverbs 31 ministries. But last summer, life's circumstances did not allow me to go.<br />
<br />
But guess what?? In two weeks from today, I'll be there. Gasp! I. Am. So. Excited!<br />
<br />
And nervous.<br />
And humbled.<br />
And ready.<br />
And not ready at all.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://shespeaksconference.org/" target="_blank"><img alt="She Speaks Graduate" border="0" src="http://shespeaksconference.com/files/2012/03/She-Speaks_attendee.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
Can I ask you to pray??<br />
<br />
Let me tell you...I was not even going to post this. The enemy had me totally convinced that no one wants to hear about it. It is all just too silly.<br />
<br />
But seeing as how Satan has a stout track record of lying, I will assume this is not his first truth-telling moment.<br />
<br />
So, here it goes....my prayer requests.<br />
<br />
Will you pray for the next two weeks? I am preparing two talks...one is "my story" - which comically must be summed up in three minutes. And the second is a "teaching talk". So pen to paper this week. Me, Jesus and my little green journal. And some fine tip sharpies.<br />
<br />
AND...in the next two weeks I will be completing a book proposal (which I have never done anything like it...and there is a sharp learning curve). Hello molly. My every fleshy impulse is to tuck my tail between my legs and run away. Change my mind. And cancel the appointments I have set with two publishers. The enemy starts at me again...<i>who are you Becky? No one wants to hear what you have to say. Cancel it and give someone else those time slots. Other people with book ideas that might make it.</i><br />
<br />
Ugh. He is a liar, I tell you.<br />
<br />
(My proposal is on the<a href="http://joyfuljava.blogspot.com/2012/01/chasing-skinny-part-one.html"> Chasing Skinny</a> series I did this past winter. Do you remember that?)<br />
<br />
And one more thing...let's throw in a birthday party for my soon-to-be nine-year-old next weekend! Sweet boy. Nine years old! So in the midst of writing, praying and freaking out every now and again, I will be baking a UT Football helmet cake! <br />
<br />
I can do it! Philippians 4:13! Whoo hoo! <br />
<br />
And over all...will you pray that I will seek the Lord. That I will glorify Him! That I will be full of His Spirit. That I will be His vessel, to speak His words and have full confidence in Him. Not myself.<br />
<br />
So there you have it (if you can make sense of my rambling). My next two weeks. I would appreciate your prayers so very much. <br />
<br />
I adore all of my readers and I am unspeakably thankful for your encouragement through this little screen.Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-36669039394055361822012-07-02T06:30:00.001-04:002012-08-05T02:31:46.060-04:00The Legacy of a Man Who Cut WoodThe line for visitation wrapped all the way around the sanctuary, looped through the pews, down the hall and, someone even said, back to the church office.<br />
<br />
I had never been to this church before, but even I knew the church office was a long ways off.<br />
<br />
Hundreds of people came to pay respects to one man. A husband. A friend. A hard worker. A veteran. A man who loved to cut wood. <b>A man who loved Jesus</b>.<br />
<br />
<b>Mr. Charles.</b> He was Mamaw's friend. I didn't know him well, but I knew him and his wife well enough to know this about him...<br />
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<b>He was a man who loved Jesus.</b><br />
<br />
He and his sweet wife of 60 years had been good to my grandmother. When mom was sick, they were there for her. When momma died, they were there, too. Such good people. Visiting mamaw several times since her move last summer. Her new home up the road from me. <br />
<br />
<b>He was a man who loved Jesus.</b><br />
<br />
The funeral ran long because it started late. Those hundreds of people wanting the chance to hug his bride of 60 years. To hug and cry with her. To encourage her. To pray with her. <b>And view the body of a man who loved Jesus.</b><br />
<br />
It was after nine when I got home, Brent was wiping the counter, standing at the kitchen sink as I came in the door.<br />
<br />
"How was it?"<br />
<br />
"<i>So good</i>. I know it sounds odd, but I wish I could go to a funeral once a week. Just to keep a firm grip on reality."<br />
<br />
Brent nodded.<br />
<br />
"Seriously," I said. "Funerals will keep you sober. Because when it is all said and done, someone is going to sum you up in about 30 minutes. <i>If that long</i>. I want to live a life aware of<i> that</i> fact. What will be said over <i>my</i> casket?"<br />
<br />
I hope the message spoken at my funeral will be as impactful as the words at Mr. Charles'.<br />
<br />
The pastor spoke to us all, but mostly to his wife. <i>The wife of sixty years</i>. He looked at her from the pulpit, square in her eyes, and said, "Miss Jane. <b>Your husband's life mattered</b>. To all of us. <b>Charles lived a life for Christ. His life was for the Glory of God.</b>"<br />
<br />
<b>A man who loved Jesus</b>.<br />
<br />
Pastor continued, "I'd like to read a passage from Scripture, Miss Jane. A passage that, I feel, describes well the life of Mr. Charles." <br />
<br />
<b>Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,</b><br />
<b>nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers;</b><br />
<b>but his delight is in the law of the LORD</b><br />
<b>and on his Law he meditates day and night. </b><br />
<b>He is like a tree planted by streams of water</b><br />
<b>that yields its fruit in its season and its leaf does not wither. </b><br />
<b>In all that he does he prospers. </b><br />
<b>Psalms 1: 1-3</b><br />
<br />
A "life that was lived for Christ" and a Psalm 1. <b><i>That is a powerful life</i></b>.<br />
<br />
How would my life be summed up? Honestly?<br />
<br />
Some days it would be, <i>"Miss Becky. She was a nice lady. But a bit impatient. And self-absorbed. But wow, in her thirties she could run an 8-minute-mile. And was amazing at mentally keeping track of her caloric intake. She didn't even need an App for that.</i>"<br />
<br />
Some days it would be, "<i>Miss Becky. She was a happy gal. A fair cook. Who served her family and those around her... most of the time because she loved them, but often for recognition and a big pat on the back."</i><br />
<br />
Or <i>"Miss Becky. She was a sweet thing. She sure did love her husband. Even though she snaped at him often and was quite stingy with grace. But overall, she was a pretty good wife. Most of the time."</i><br />
<br />
And a passage from Scripture. <i>What would be read?</i> I'd like to think that <b>Colossians 3:12-17</b> would be mentioned or maybe bits of <b>Proverbs 31</b>. Even a little <b>Galations 5:22-25</b>.<br />
<br />
I'd like to think.<br />
<br />
But reality is that some will hear the voice of Jesus retell his words in Matthew 7. "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?' And then will I declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.'" Matthew 7:21-23</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Yikes.</span><br />
<br />
And arguably worse, one would hear the Lord proclaim<b> Revelation 3:16.</b>..<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>"Because you are <span class="criteria">lukewarm</span>--neither hot nor cold--I am about to spit you out of my mouth."</b></span><br />
<br />
Dear. Heaven forbid it.<br />
<br />
<i>Lord, let me be summed up in the same line as Mr. Charles...</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Miss Becky, she lived her life for Christ."</span></i><br />
<br />
Because when the receiving line has moved through and the hydrangeas are displayed atop my casket, the pastor will stand at the pulpit and have about 30 minutes. <br />
<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What will he say?</span><br />
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<i>Lord, today let me live a life of sacrifice and selfless service to You. A life of meaningful relationships. Of love. Each day for You. In every single facet.</i><br />
<br />
Sweet Mr. Charles. The man who cut wood. He met Jesus last week. <b>The Jesus he loved</b>.<br />
<br />
<b>What a legacy.</b> <br />
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A legacy that will carry on. His life still making a difference...<br />
<br />
Even now, in my own.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>As a prisoner for <span class="criteria">the</span> Lord, </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>then, I urge you to live a life <span class="criteria">worthy </span><span class="criteria">of</span> <span class="criteria">the</span> <span class="criteria">calling</span></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b> you have received. </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>Ephesians 4:1</b></span></div>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-64779828094547588742012-06-29T05:16:00.001-04:002012-06-29T05:40:46.773-04:00Shake That Tambourine and Dance<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;">On Fridays I sometimes link up with Liso-Jo over at<a href="http://lisajobaker.com/2012/06/five-minute-friday-dance/"> Tales From The Gypsy Mama</a>. We write for 5 minutes with no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; line-height: 25px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Today's prompt is: <b> Dance.</b></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;">GO...</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: inherit; font-size: large; font-weight: bold; line-height: 25px;">Shake That Tambourine and Dance</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; line-height: 25px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; line-height: 25px;">I have a little dancer.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;">He is six. <b>And full of life and little inhibition</b>.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;">My sweet Ethan. My musician. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;">His heart for the Lord is pure and his natural bend is to praise Him. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: inherit; font-size: large; line-height: 25px;"><b>Praise Him with tambourine and dance. Psalm 150:4</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;">This is such a gift. And as much as <i>I </i>love it, his brothers don't always.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;">As we ride in the van, my oldest will bark, "Ethan, stop singing." </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;">"No." I say.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;"><i>"Let him sing."</i></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;">I am protective of Ethan's heart. <b> For I know it won't be too long before the world will try and rob him the purity of his passion.</b> The world will shame him or make fun or try to rob his joy.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;"><b>The world does this, yes? Rob us of our song and dance?</b></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;">As much as I love to listen to Ethan sing and watch his tiny feet dance, I can only imagine how the Father adores us. His little ones. With hearts that dance for him. With hearts that leap with joy.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;"><b>Today, don't let anyone tell you to stop. Shake the heck out of your tambourine. Sing a little too loud. Spin. And dance before your Father.</b></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;">Your audience of One gives you a standing ovation.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 25px;">STOP</span></span>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-1415287572219068982012-06-27T07:05:00.002-04:002012-07-26T06:48:58.123-04:00Play Hard In The WaterI could kill any plant. Even a cactus is not safe with me.<br />
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I'm not the neighbor you ask to water your garden while on vacation. Come to think of it...no one does. (smile)<br />
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But this spring, I had my heart set on a beautiful front porch. I dreamed of draping petunias flowing over white flower boxes. I made Pintrest boards and googled landscaping arrangements for flowerbeds. I searched and searched for colors and set a gardening budget.<br />
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I bought spray paint and gave old pots fresh faces. <br />
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Long and hard hours brought life and color to my front porch. I was proud of my Zebra petunias, pink begonias and marigolds. Fresh Basil and mint. Mmm. My porch spoke of spring. <br />
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But between then and now, I forgot something a little important.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Water.</span><br />
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<i>Yes, I know.</i><br />
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Now, in my own defense...the back yard is doing just fine. (I even have a little veggie garden - proud grin) but the front porch. <i>Bless it's heart.</i><br />
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<b>O LORD, the hope of Isreal, all who forsake you shall be put to shame; those who forsake you shall be written in the earth for they have forsaken the LORD, the fountain of living water. Jeremiah 17:13</b><br />
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Jesus spoke to a deep place on Saturday as the brown leaves of my petunias frowned from neglect.<br />
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<b><i>Water them, Becky. There is still life there.</i></b><br />
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<b><i>Can't you see yourself in these pots, Becky? Do you see it? Do not forsake Me. Your leaves will surly whither. Come to the Fountain. Every. Single. Day.</i></b><br />
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<i>Yes Sir.</i><br />
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There are seasons that our plans for spiritual growth start big. <i>After cold winters, aren't we ready to start fresh?</i> We scan bookstore shelves for new books and journals. We sign up for studies. <b> We buy fresh soil and lay out our spring designs.</b><br />
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We spend hours digging and planting. And God breaths life and beauty into our home. <b>Growth begins. Our hearts change. </b></div>
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But when the heat of summer comes,<i> we lose gusto</i>. Watering our spiritual gardens becomes an every other day affair. Maybe we get busy and forget the crucial ingredient of growth....WATER.</div>
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By 3 o'clock the sun is hot and over head. The kids have worn us down. The boss is on our tail. The deadline has come. Or that co-worker. <i> Oh, that co-worker</i>. </div>
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And then it is too late. <b>Our soil is dry and our leaves droop south.</b></div>
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<i>Are you feeling me on this?</i></div>
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<b>The Lord - a fountain of Living Water</b>.</div>
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"Living" as used here in Jeremiah means<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> ALIVE</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>a)</b> green </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>b)</b> flowing, fresh</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>c)</b> lively, active</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>d)</b> reviving</span></div>
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This is offered to us. Every. Single. Day.</div>
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He is an endless wealth of <b>Life! </b><br />
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<b>Flowing, fresh, lively, active, reviving FOUNTAINS of LIVING WATER.</b></div>
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It doesn't matter how brown your heart feels. Or how south your leaves droop.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">There is still life there.</span> </div>
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<b>It just needs water.</b><br />
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I am committed to my front porch... <i>again</i>. And I invite you to hold me accountable.</div>
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Here are pictures...(gulp - swallowing pride)</div>
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I am committed to these pitiful little guys. The Lord has a lesson for me here. A parallel to show.</div>
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Every. Single. Day. They will be watered. Every. Single. Day. They need attention.</div>
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I am committed.</div>
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In the meantime, go and enjoy your Source of true Life. </div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Put your swimmies on and play hard in His streams of Living Water today.</span></b></div>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-45394987591591990012012-06-25T05:34:00.000-04:002012-07-26T06:49:31.257-04:00"I'm Losing My Mind" Kind of Day<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The other night I sat upright in Luke's bed. His three-year-old body had ran, jumped, sprinted, hopped, danced, giggled, wiggled, peed, pooped, ate, drank, sang, three-wheeled, squealed, swung, slid, not napped and disobeyed for nearly thirteen hours. And he was still going.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I was so tired. <i>Oh my word</i>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Brent was working late and it had been an <i>"I'm about to lose my mind"</i> kind of day.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It isn't everyday I feel as if I have "three boys," but this day...<i>I had three boys</i>.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Three <b>busy</b> and<b> boisterous boys</b>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I lay against Luke's head board, propped up against a patchwork pillow sham, <i>"Are You My Mother"</i> laying against my chest, Luke jumping on the bed, my eyes closed.</span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Lord, I just have to confess. I didn't really like my kids today. I love them. I would do anything for them. But right now, in this moment, I must say didn't like them. I feel as if I have been beaten up. Resisted. Rejected all day long. I am restless. I just didn't like being a mommy today."</span></i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I hated that prayer. <b>But if we are to come to the Lord with everything...I can't deny this one</b>. Overcome with guilt I lay there, head back and eyes still closed, <b>convincing myself that I am all alone in this honest prayer</b>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Mommy faces started coming to mind...moms whom I admire. Mothers to whom I hope my parenting would liken. "They never feel this way." I thought. "Chances are high they are working puzzles and baking cookies right now. And here I am. Beating my head against a pillow sham. Sulking in fatigue and frustration."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After two Dr. Seuss books, one<i> I Spy</i> and a Bible story, Luke had given it up. My baby boy tuckered. His breathing soft. I stared at his face for a long time before turning out the light.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But when [Jesus] saw the multitudes, He was moved with <span class="x_Apple-style-span">compassion</span> for them, because they were weary and scattered. Matthew 9:36</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I can only imagine how Jesus sees me. His daughter. Busy and boisterous. Resistant and restless. <b>But He has yet to throw His baby out with the bath water.</b> No. He doesn't toss back His head back in frustration at me. He never complains. Instead...<b><span class="x_Apple-style-span">He has compassion.</span></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Compassion for the weary.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Compassion for the scattered.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Compassion for the resistant.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Compassion for the restless.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Therefore be imitators of God as dear children. And walk in love, as Christ also has loved us and given Himself for us. Ephesians 5:1, 2</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Since my honest prayer, I have talked to several moms about this "not liking my kids" moment. One mother I spoke to was one I pictured baking cookies and working puzzles....and you know what?<b> She sometimes feels this way, too.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Praise the Lord, I'm not alone. <i>You aren't either</i>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>It is time to stop condemning myself for being the worst mom ever and start remembering the mercy that will be new tomorrow</b>. I need to start remembering that I am not alone in my "losing my mind"kind of days. And I most definitely need to remember that <b>my Heavenly Daddy is one of the greatest compassion</b>.</span></div>
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<b><span class="x_Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: medium;">I want my parenting to liken Him.</span></b></div>
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<span class="x_Apple-style-span"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lord, let me be an imitator of Your compassion. Let me parent in Your power and in Your strength today. Thank You that I can bring my most rawest emotions to You and You aren't scared or offended. Thank You that you meet me exactly where I am. And You have COMPASSION on me. Amazing. Thank You for being, most literally, the best Daddy in the world. I am a thankful daughter. Amen.</span></i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b>Thank you <a href="http://www.beautifullyrooted.com/">Beautifully Rooted</a> for hosting me today! What an honor!</b></span>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-58854007596804606582012-06-22T05:05:00.002-04:002012-06-22T05:10:29.535-04:00Altogether...Together<blockquote>
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Around here we write for five minutes flat on Fridays.<br />
We write because we love words and the relief it is to just write them without worrying if they’re just right or not. So we take five minutes on Friday and write like we used to run when we were kids.<br />
<strong style="font-weight: bold;">On Fridays we write with gusto, unselfconscious and flat out.</strong></blockquote>
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<strong style="font-weight: bold;">~Lisa-Jo @ <a href="http://www.thegypsymama.com/">The Gypsy Mama</a></strong></blockquote>
Today's topic: <b>Together</b><br />
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Five minutes set: GO<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">Altogether...Together</span><br />
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I know that God will never leave me.<br />
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I know that He is an ever-present help in trouble.<br />
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I know that God is Emmanuel. <i>He is with us</i>.<br />
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<b>But I wouldn't say I often reflect on God and me as "together."</b><br />
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But we are.<br />
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<b>Together</b> is a family picnic or a cup of joe at Starbucks.<br />
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<b>Together</b> <b>sits</b> around a table at 5 o'clock. Sharing dinner and our day.<br />
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<b>Together shares</b> a story. And ice cream.<br />
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<b>Together rides</b> in the car and shops for shoes.<br />
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<b>Together.</b><br />
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<b>But if He is in fact ever-present, then we are in fact together.</b><br />
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If He is with us.... With me.... With you..... Then we are<b> together</b>.<br />
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<b>He will never leave me. We are together.</b><br />
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As much as He is a big God in the big things, He is a Big God in the little things, too.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">For the LORD your God goes with <span class="criteria">you</span>; he will <span class="criteria">never</span> <span class="criteria">leave </span><span class="criteria">you</span> nor forsake <span class="criteria">you</span>. Deut. 31:9</span></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">He is <b>together</b> with me on family picnics, and drinking joe. We are<b> together </b>around the kitchen table and sharing ice cream. <b>Together</b> in the car and shopping for shoes.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">He is altogether lovely and altogether ... <i>together </i>with me.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And He is together with you. Right now. Reading this. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Together.</b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red; font-family: inherit;">Stop</span><br />
<br />Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-33592196934391763032012-06-20T06:23:00.001-04:002012-06-20T06:45:17.314-04:00One Latte with Post-It Notes and Humble Pie, Please<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Early the other morning, as I sat at my dining room table having coffee with the Lord, my sweet Grant quietly crept over, sliding a round post-it note beside my Bible.</div>
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It read....</div>
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Some mornings, the boys wake and walk downstairs before I've had a chance to write their Bible verse on the<a href="http://joyfuljava.blogspot.com/2012/05/dollywoods-got-nothin-on-you.html"> chalkboard.</a> In that case, I give them permission to climb up on the counter (which they love to do) and I tell them the verse for morning quiet time.<br />
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This particular morning, Grant gave me <i>his</i> suggestion.<br />
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I read the note and asked, "James 4:10. OK. What does it say?"<br />
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So he came over and peeked over my shoulder. I flipped back to the book of James.<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will exalt you. </span>James 4:10</b><br />
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"<i>Oooh.</i> Good one, buddy. Why this verse?"<br />
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"I just like it," he said.<br />
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<i>Oh, you have no idea. </i> Listen, I write this not to say "Look at my overly-zealous, humble and spiritual eight-year-old." No way.... in many ways it is the opposite.<br />
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You see, when I started using my<a href="http://joyfuljava.blogspot.com/2012/06/if-you-struggle-with-prayer.html"> prayer cards,</a> one of the KEY WORDS on Grant's 3x5 is my<i> cry out </i>to God for HUMILITY for this kid. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> I pray often that he would have desire to put other's needs over his own.</span> I regularly pray <b>Colossians 3:12</b> over his life. I pray Grant would..."<b>Put on a compassionate heart, kindness, HUMILITY meekness and patience."</b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">This post-it note was confirmation that God is doing a work</span>. It may be years before I see a huge harvest of humble pie, <b>but today I am encouraged</b>.<br />
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And when I see him <i>literally </i>pushing his brothers to the ground to be first in the van or ferociously scooping up the last helping of macaroni and cheese, I will remember the little note he slid beside my Bible. {grin}<br />
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<b>It serves as hope to this little mama</b>. I trust and BELIEVE that God is revealing to Grant that <i>humility is where his bread is buttered.</i><br />
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<i>Lord, thank you thank you thank you</i>. I needed the encouragement. I pray you will use this little post-it note to encourage other mommies and daddies today. That no matter if they are seeing the fruit of the prayers going up for their own kids, YOU HEAR EACH PRAYER and are at work. In Jesus Name, Amen.<br />
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<b>I'd love to hear of a time you've seen a little (or a lot) of fruit from your own prayers. Share if you have a minute...</b>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-87563410705232631492012-06-18T06:13:00.003-04:002012-06-18T21:38:16.130-04:00If You're Uncomfortable In Your Skin...<div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 8px; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; margin-top: 8px; min-width: 0px; width: 653px;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I heart summer.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Yes, absolutely love it. Like, if I had a little girl I might have named her "Summer",<i> love it</i>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Even the sunshine favors this season. It wants to be a part of the action as long as possible.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Here are five reasons I love summer so...</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">1. Popsicles become a food group.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">3. The smell of sunscreen.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">4. Slow mornings with extra coffee.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">5. Flip flops!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">But with summer comes an enormous amount of <b>skin </b>(hence the need for that sunscreen).</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">For my kiddos, swim suits and bare feet are routine attire. </span> And for me...bathing suits and<br />
cover-ups. Tank tops. Sandals. Sundresses. And shorts.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Lots. Of. Skin.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Summer sure does make assumptions. </b>The assumption that we are all OK </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Summer didn't ask us...<b>It simply assumes we are all comfortable in our own skin.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">But we know better.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I can only imagine that the beach and swimming pool arouse many an insecurity in all of us. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And it doesn't matter what age, weight or body type.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I've never met the woman who walks around in a swimsuit, completely oblivious to the </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It's all a bit uncomfortable.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">We are so very critical of ourselves. (Aren't we girls?) </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And as real as the reflection in the mirror may seem... As believable as the thoughts</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">in our head may sound.... </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>There is a bigger reality</b>.</span> </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">There is One, who sees you, and all of your skin, and is absolutely enthralled.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The blushing book of <b>Song of Solomon</b> tells the love story of King Solomon, absolutely</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">taken aback by his bride, a Shulamite woman. And his affection was not just for her inward </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">beauty. He is amazed at the beauty of her body. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">How <span class="criteria" style="font-weight: bold;">beautiful</span> are your feet in sandals, O noble daughter!</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Your rounded thighs are like jewels, the work of a master's </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">hand. </span>Song of Solomon 7:1</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Now, if I was a betting woman, I'd say this sweet bride did not view her<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> rounded</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">thighs as jewels</span>. But her man did. <b>Probably the biggest frustration of </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>her body was his favorite</b>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Go figure </i> (pun intended).</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">This book in the Bible, though seemingly out of place, is strategically included. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It's love story, a picture of the intimacy available to us - not only in marriage, but </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">in a relationship with God.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">How </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="criteria" style="font-weight: bold;">beautiful</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> and pleasant you are, O loved one, </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">with all your delights! </span>Song of Solomon 7:6</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>All her delights.</i> Her curves - a delight to him. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Our bodies, too, are a delight to the Lord</b>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">God is so enthralled with us that chose us as His Temple,<i> for goodness sakes</i>. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Yes, OUR bodies. The body we complain about and ridicule. The body we stare</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">at in the mirror and tear apart. <i>That body. </i> </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">God is taken back by your beauty, my dear. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">He wants to take up residence there. In your beautiful heart. </span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">You are altogether<span class="Apple-style-span"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="criteria">beautiful</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span">, my love; there is no flaw in you. </span></span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Song of Solomon 4:7</span></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhts6wpM8_3W6tlMlvhpmjfjiHZCbd-Mb31yq1xs2VgoFKi2SbU-nDSvMzYJgnloMb_t3ePYhEsY-CaopzSYlnUnTxXnBc9ri_fqpFdFDfk4Qypjylj2_P5JCzcJEftZKvMuboPdkb1QH55/s1600/beautiful" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhts6wpM8_3W6tlMlvhpmjfjiHZCbd-Mb31yq1xs2VgoFKi2SbU-nDSvMzYJgnloMb_t3ePYhEsY-CaopzSYlnUnTxXnBc9ri_fqpFdFDfk4Qypjylj2_P5JCzcJEftZKvMuboPdkb1QH55/s640/beautiful" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It doesn't matter...two piece bikini, tankini or a one piece with a skirt. <b> You Are Beautiful.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It doesn't matter...dark skin, tons of freckles or pale with 85 proof. <b>You Are Beautiful</b>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It doesn't matter...pear shape, apple or a butternut squash. <b>You Are Beautiful.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Today, I dare you to look in the mirror and tell yourself</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">that <i><b>You Are Beautiful - there is no flaw in you</b></i>. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">You are the WORK OF THE MASTER'S HAND. Your rounded thighs, jewels. {grin}</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And men, if you've read this far, go tell your bride....<b>She Is Beautiful, too</b>. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">She is the creative work of the Master's hand.</span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Lord, thank you for creating us. Thank you that before our bodies came to shape you saw us. Unformed. And even then you were taken with us. Thank you for every curve. Every bit of </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">skin...even the skin we see as "excessive"...thank you. Forgive me for ever self hating on your </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">handy work. Let us all be thankful and CONFIDENT today...for You see us as stunning. </span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And as you said of all of your creation...we are good. </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">In Jesus Name...AMEN.</span></i></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">(hats off to photographer and friend Jennifer Dalton for this picture </span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">- jenny1129@gmail.com. If you're local...her work is amazing.)</span></b></div>
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</div>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-47750619764314290222012-06-13T07:00:00.002-04:002012-06-18T21:22:41.300-04:00On Boys Becoming MenWe were running later than we'd hoped.<br />
<br />
Three paper plates full of hot dogs, grapes and pretzels had been gobbled up by my three hungry little birds. Each boy sun-screened up and ready to head to the pool.<br />
<br />
Our goal - leave at 11:20.<br />
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It was 11:10.<br />
<br />
"Grant, would you help mommy collect the plates from the table? And put the cold things inside the fridge?"<br />
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Speaking of birds....chirp chirp. <i>Silence.</i><br />
<br />
My voice a bit sharper, "Grant? Did you hear me?"<br />
<br />
He was no longer in the kitchen. Instead he was found belly down, plopped on the couch. One arm dangling off of the side. Face buried in a pillow.<br />
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A muffled voice, "Can't Ethan help? I am so tired."<br />
<br />
My blood now rolling to a slow boil.<br />
<br />
"Grant, I need you to come help me, son. You are <i>not</i> tired. We are trying to leave for the pool. In order to get out of the door, I need your cooperation."<br />
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No movement.<br />
<br />
{Sassy mom fighting her way out now...}<br />
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"OK Grant. The next time you are hungry and ask for a snack I will lay down on the couch and tell you I am much too tired. I just <i>can't</i> do it. And your dinner? Don't I fix that all of the time? Maybe I will be too tired later to fix that, too. Isn't it Daddy's turn? <i> Or Ethan's? </i> Yes, it's Ethan's turn to fix dinner. Fruit loops and trail mix for all."<br />
<br />
A little grin. <i>"Mom."</i><br />
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With a huff, "Just go on upstairs, Grant. Seriously. I am bummed out about your attitude right now. Just go on up. I need to talk to Daddy about your unwillingness to serve."<br />
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Dragging his feet, he headed up the steps. Still grumbling about his <i>terrible </i>fatigue.<br />
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I took my cup and held it up to the ice maker. I glanced at Brent.<br />
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"I keep waiting on it to<i> kick in</i>."<br />
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Brent - "For what to kick in?"<br />
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"His desire to serve. A little more maturity. I keep waiting on his bend to be towards service and not passivity."<br />
<br />
Brent stopped the running water and put down his plate. His looked me square in the eye. As serious as the summer day is long.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"It will never <i>kick</i> in."</span> <br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"It will never kick in. Men are<i> made.</i> It will take a childhood of doing hard thing after hard thing. Training after training. I was the same way. I had to do so many hard things before I understood being a man. I've worked with hundreds of college guys...and trust me...it doesn't just <i>kick in</i>."<br />
<br />
It's true. <i>Men are made. Not born. </i> Even the apostle Paul speaks of his own turning point.<br />
<br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When I was a child I spoke like a child, I reasoned like a child. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When I became a man</span>, I gave up childish ways. 1 Corinthians 13:11</span></b><br />
<br />
In the Greek the word for <b>became</b> is <em style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, helvetica;"><b>ginomai.</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And specifically in this particular passage it is defined as <b>"</b></span><b>being made. To prove oneself. To arise. To come to pass." </b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And this isn't just a boy thing. The word for <b>man</b> also refers to <b>both genders.</b> There is a "becoming" for both male and female. A <b>process</b> of being made mature. Of <b>proving of oneself</b> mature. An <b>arising</b> of the servant-heart. </span><br />
And maturity <b>will</b>, <i>bless God</i>,<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> come to pass.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">So parents be encouraged. It may take 100 times of clearing plates from the table. It may take 100 mowed lawns or 100 loads of laundry, but<b> there is a "becoming" going on in the heart of your child. </b>Behind the grumbles and slouched shoulders, there is a man fighting his way to the surface. Maturity is coming to pass.</span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, helvetica;">Let us not become weary</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, helvetica;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, helvetica;"><span class="criteria">in</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, helvetica;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, helvetica;"><span class="criteria">doing</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, helvetica;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, helvetica;"><span class="criteria">good</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms', arial, helvetica;">, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Galatians 6:9</span></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Lord, forgive me for not operating in patience toward my sweet boy. Give me mind to remember that he is still in training. I believe, in faith, that you are molding his servant's heart. That you are molding him into a man. I pray that , every single day, I will shepherd his heart to yours. Please allow all of our children to bear your image Jesus. Let them grow into men and women who do the hard thing, who pick up their cross daily, and follow hard after you. In Jesus Name, Amen.</i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Can you share a time when you have seen this maturity come to pass through doing hard things?</span>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279660318055685789.post-72744053818373092902012-06-11T06:10:00.000-04:002012-06-18T21:23:19.776-04:00A Little Sermon ... Within a SermonThis summer our pastors are teaching a series on<a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1509114660"> </a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://fefc.com/#/watch-listen">Living With The End In Mind</a></b>.</span> A sermon series with our bookmarks pitched in First and Second Thessalonians.<br />
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Yesterday morning we flipped through passages, all concerning <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">our daily manner of living</span>. A manner of living that is, specifically, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">worthy of the Lord.</span><br />
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A manner of living that is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">fully pleasing to a Living God</span>. (click above and listen if you have time - such great stuff.)<br />
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As I sat in my seat, flipping along with the church body through references, the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Lord spoke to me separately.</span><br />
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About something a<i> little</i> different.<br />
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A<i> little </i>sermon within a sermon.<br />
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A word from the Lord...about my <i>little</i> boys.<br />
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"Turn with me to <b>Colossians 1:9-10</b>," my pastor said.<br />
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<b>And so from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, adding that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God. </b> </blockquote>
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Pray this over your boys, </span></i>He said.<br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">He</span></i> being the Lord. Not my pastor.<br />
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Mmm. Yes. Great idea.<br />
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So I wrote myself a <i>little</i> note.<br />
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At that my Bestie, who was sitting next to me, leaned in and whispered, "That would be a great one to pray over my kids."</div>
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I smiled and nodded, pointing to my sloppy note.</div>
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We grinned in agreement.</div>
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(A love a little confirmation.)</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I do believe the Lord has given me a Spirit-led passage for some <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1509114655">prayer cards</a></span><a href="http://joyfuljava.blogspot.com/2012/06/if-you-struggle-with-prayer.html">.</a> </div>
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Yay. Love that.</div>
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Will you take a minute...if even a minute...but a minute to pray this over someone special to you?</div>
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Who might that someone be today? </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>Lord God, I ask that _____________ would be filled with the knowledge of your will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so they will walk in a manner worthy of you, Lord. That their lives would be fully pleasing to you, bearing fruit in every good work and that they would increase in the knowledge of you. In Jesus name, Amen.</i></span></div>
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{And even though I don't know exactly who all is reading this right now, know that I prayed this over you, too. ~grin~}</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Do you recall a time that the Lord has given you a <i>sermon within a sermon</i> like this?</span></div>Becky Crenshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01261582367085221326noreply@blogger.com2