Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Pilgrim and Indian Day

Two weeks ago, the Upper Academy went to Indiana to attend the annual Empowered Youth conference, held at FBC. While they were gone, we--the Lower Academy--had a Pilgrim & Indian Day.

Half of the students dressed up as Pilgrims, while the other half dressed up as Indians. We started our festivities off by having a general assembly in which the 3rd & 4th grade students presented a reenactment of the "First Thanksgiving". It was HILARIOUS. Seriously. Their teacher, Rila, had recorded them doing the speaking parts, so all they had to do was act it out. Some of the boys lip synced and the others just tried to make sure their movements corresponded to what they were saying. They really did do a good job...their expressions just made it funny.

{The Preacher}

After our general assembly, we had our own Thanksgiving Feast: Meatballs, Cornbread, Baked Potatoes, and for dessert, Individual Apple Pies. Not really how they ate back in the day, but, we started our own tradition. We were going to have smoked venison too--seeing how this is the Northwoods and hunting is a holiday in itself--but couldn't find a smoker {that worked}...Perhaps next year. We enjoyed ourselves anyway.

After we ate, we played games and made a craft.

{Making "pumpkins" our of orange candy slices, and mini Charleston chews for the stems}

{The kids lining up, shortest to tallest for our Indian Brave game}

{The pre-school pilgrims}

{A Pilgrim "Family"}

{The Pilgrims from Pre-school, Kindergarten, and Second grade}

{Kindergarten & Second grade Indians}

{Pilgrim Lady, Rila}

{Squaw, Marsh and Baby;}

{Tuckered out after a fun filled day}

Monday, November 22, 2010

Giving Thanks VII

Have you ever had someone impact you whether by deed or words, and you felt loved and that all was alright with your world at that moment? I have.

Back in July, my camera died. It wasn't even 6 months old {I had gotten it for Christmas}, and I admit that although I don't have "style", I do love taking shots....many, many shots. I would go for walks and think about all the cool shots I could have taken....sunsets and sunrises came and went.....hilarious moments with the children I watched....all these memories are lost because I really do have a horrible memory. I don't know how I lived without a digital camera before December of '09....did I mention I have a horrible memory? I can barely remember most of my childhood--and no, it was not traumatic.

ANYWAY. I talked about calling the company, but I had no clue how to describe what was wrong...I'm sure they wouldn't have understood what "thingy" was. So, it sat in my drawer...with me lamenting that I couldn't take pictures. I spoke to one of my friends, Jimmy Dean, about it and she mentioned my dilemma to her husband, Mr. D. The next time he saw me, he told me he would look at it....he ended up calling the company who told him to send it in--which he did. So, now, my camera is sitting at the Nikon camera fixing place, waiting for a part. Mr. D told me on Sunday that the part was on back-order and it probably would be the middle of December (or later) before I would get it back.

I would just like to insert here that both my friends, Jimmy Dean and her sidekick, Marsh, have let me use their cameras since the beginning of school. Those pictures I've posted on my Picasa Web link...that I don't know how to give you'll have to wait till I figure it out. Anyway, they have been really gracious in letting me use their cameras (which are really, really nice) at will.

Well, this morning, Jimmy Dean handed me a camera and battery charger. Mr. D is letting me use his camera until mine comes back. Isn't that so nice? I can now capture memories...not just for when I'm in the Nursing home, but for next week.

I am grateful for my friends. I'm thankful that they allow God to use them to be blessings to others, and I'm thankful it was directed towards me in this circumstance. I'm grateful, not just for this one incident, but for all the "little" things that show me that the people in my life care about me and that God cares as well. I'm thankful for the zucchini bread made just for me, and for socks. I'm thankful for late night chats and chauffeuring services. I'm thankful for notes that tell me someone is praying for me. I'm thankful for encouraging words when I want to strangle {in LOVE, of course} my students. Today, I'm also particularly grateful to the 3rd and 4th grade teacher, Rila for cleaning up one of my student's puke while I helped my student in the bathroom. There are so many more "moments" that God has used to say, "See, I am here, close beside you."

"Friends are God's way of taking care of us."

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Giving Thanks VI

Psalm 111

Praise ye the LORD. I will praise the Lord with my whole heart, in the assembly of the upright, and in the congregation.

The works of the LORD are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein.

His work is honourable and glorious: and his righteousness endureth forever.

He hath made his wonderful works to be remembered: the LORD is gracious and full of compassion.

He hath given meat unto them that fear him: he will ever be mindful of his covenant.

He hath shewed his people the power of his works, that he may give them the heritage of the heathen.

The works of his hands are verity and judgment; all his commandments are sure.

They stand fast for ever and ever, and are done in truth and uprightness.

He sent redemption unto his people: he hath commanded his covenant for ever: holy and reverend is his name.

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom: a good understanding have all they that do his commandments: his praise endureth for ever.

What is there not to the thank the Lord for? He is continually good to me; He shows me mercy when I should have none; He loves me unconditionally; He has compassion for my hurts; He is longsuffering while I make mistakes; He provides for my every need. God is SO good to me.

O give thanks unto the LORD; for he is good: because his mercy endureth for ever.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Remembrance/ Veterans Day

All over the world, men and women give their lives for the sake of freedom. We have freedoms both in Canada and America because of people who were willing to fight in something they believed in. And so, I thank those who fought, and were able to come back home; and to those who gave their life, I remember them with gratitude and hope that their death was not in vain.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army
McCrae's "In Flanders Fields" remains to this day one of the most memorable war poems ever written. It is a lasting legacy of the terrible battle in the Ypres salient in the spring of 1915. Here is the story of the making of that poem:

Although he had been a doctor for years and had served in the South African War, it was impossible to get used to the suffering, the screams, and the blood here, and Major John McCrae had seen and heard enough in his dressing station to last him a lifetime.

As a surgeon attached to the 1st Field Artillery Brigade, Major McCrae, who had joined the McGill faculty in 1900 after graduating from the University of Toronto, had spent seventeen days treating injured men -- Canadians, British, Indians, French, and Germans -- in the Ypres salient.

It had been an ordeal that he had hardly thought possible. McCrae later wrote of it:

"I wish I could embody on paper some of the varied sensations of that seventeen days... Seventeen days of Hades! At the end of the first day if anyone had told us we had to spend seventeen days there, we would have folded our hands and said it could not have been done."

One death particularly affected McCrae. A young friend and former student, Lieut. Alexis Helmer of Ottawa, had been killed by a shell burst on 2 May 1915. Lieutenant Helmer was buried later that day in the little cemetery outside McCrae's dressing station, and McCrae had performed the funeral ceremony in the absence of the chaplain.

The next day, sitting on the back of an ambulance parked near the dressing station beside the Canal de l'Yser, just a few hundred yards north of Ypres, McCrae vented his anguish by composing a poem. The major was no stranger to writing, having authored several medical texts besides dabbling in poetry.

In the nearby cemetery, McCrae could see the wild poppies that sprang up in the ditches in that part of Europe, and he spent twenty minutes of precious rest time scribbling fifteen lines of verse in a notebook.

A young soldier watched him write it. Cyril Allinson, a twenty-two year old sergeant-major, was delivering mail that day when he spotted McCrae. The major looked up as Allinson approached, then went on writing while the sergeant-major stood there quietly. "His face was very tired but calm as we wrote," Allinson recalled. "He looked around from time to time, his eyes straying to Helmer's grave."

When McCrae finished five minutes later, he took his mail from Allinson and, without saying a word, handed his pad to the young NCO. Allinson was moved by what he read:

"The poem was exactly an exact description of the scene in front of us both. He used the word blow in that line because the poppies actually were being blown that morning by a gentle east wind. It never occurred to me at that time that it would ever be published. It seemed to me just an exact description of the scene."

In fact, it was very nearly not published. Dissatisfied with it, McCrae tossed the poem away, but a fellow officer retrieved it and sent it to newspapers in England. The Spectator, in London, rejected it, but Punch published it on 8 December 1915.


I watched the flag pass by one day.

It fluttered in the breeze

A young Marine saluted it, and then

He stood at ease.

I looked at him in uniform

So young, so tall, so proud

With hair cut square and eyes alert

He'd stand out in any crowd.

I thought, how many men like him

Had fallen through the years?

How many died on foreign soil?

How many mothers' tears?

How many Pilots' planes shot down?

How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?

No, Freedom is not free.

I heard the sound of taps one night,

When everything was still.

I listened to the bugler play

And felt a sudden chill.

I wondered just how many times

That taps had meant "Amen"

When a flag had draped a coffin

of a brother or a friend.

I thought of all the children,

Of the mothers and the wives,

Of fathers, sons and husbands

With interrupted lives.

I thought about a graveyard

at the bottom of the sea

Of unmarked graves in Arlington.

No, Freedom isn't free!!

Copyright 1981 by Kelly Strong

All gave some, but some gave all.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010


Passed along to me by a friend, I really enjoyed reading this analogy of someone who is lost and the grip that Satan has on their life--but, how in Christ, the chains of sin can be broken. It is a bit long, but well worth the read.

Terrors of the Deep
1. There he stood upon the flat-top

Of a bobbing boat at sea,

Clothed in helmet, girt with cables,

Soon to leave his comrades three.

With his air hose coupled safely,

And his tools strapped hard and tight,

Burkley fumbled down the ladder

And was quickly out of sight.

2. Down he went into the water,

Sparkling with a greenish glow,

Green to brown and brown to purple,

As he lower sank, and low.

Purple blackened into midnight,

As he slowly downward went;

Bubbles zigzagged, then went gurgling

Back from whence they first were sent.

3. Thud! His heavy shoes found resting:

Many times they’d struck before,

Over rocks and slippery footing

Found upon the ocean floor.

Looked he hard to see the bottom;

Not an object could be seen,

Nothing but a chilly quiver,

All around a blackish green.

4. Moments stood he in the silence,

Like the still before the storm,

Stood until the murky bottom

Yielded up her rugged form.

Then he stepped—the reef was jagged,

Dark with rippling rays and curls—

Closer looked he in each crevice,

In his dangerous hunt for pearls.

5. Eery, ghostly, shrouded shadows,

As his eyes saw more and more,

Played and danced in crazy pattern

On the treacherous ocean floor.

In his mind the diver fancied,

And with every gurgling breath,

Thought that he, as many others,

May in darkness meet his death.

6. For he walked with heavy footsteps

On the home where nature keeps,

Hidden from the light of noonday,

Mighty monsters of the deeps.

Aged men had told him stories

How for them the years had passed;

Finally each, though clothed in iron,

Met the killer fiend at last.

7. Laughed he at the thought of dying

At the mercy of the sea;

Over fish of all descriptions

He had won the victory.

Sharks had hunted him in darkness,

And he’d chased them from his path;

Baring teeth as sharp as needles,

Grinning, leering in their wrath.

8. Now the ocean bed lay spindled—

Eight great ferns that moved and turned

Came to life, as in a moment,

Mud and silt and rocks were churned!

Burkley stopped . . . he saw an image,

Standing? hanging in a place?

And at once he saw the semblance

Of the octopus’s face!

9. Ah, the ancient men were truthful:

Octopi are all the same—

Spitting ink and twisting muscle

Slowly t’ward the diver came.

Now the gap between them narrowed;

Not a nerve in him could sleep,

For he faced the dreaded killer

Divers tell of in the deep.

10. Then he felt that tightening sucker

Slip around and hold him fast,

Tightening, strangling, never slipping,

Making rugged Burkley gasp.

Flashed a hand toward his holster

Where was hung the diver's bliss;

Blade all sharp and long and shiny,

Kept for such a time as this.

11. Lashed he out with lightning fury,

And the aim was keen and well;

Tendon twisting, cut in sunder,

From his shaking body fell.

While the battle was ensuing,

Burkley’s leg was wrapped secure

With another snake-like tendon,

Wrapped in muscle, fast and sure.

12. Then he saw that face more closely

And those eyes that could but stare,

Noticed in that yawning death-trap

Hooks that grew to rip and tear.

Even closer now it drew him

To that edge of certain death;

All those arms and rows of suckers

Took the skilful diver’s breath.

13. Reached he down to free his ankle

From that tightening, vice-like grip,

But the monster sensed his purpose,

Jerked and caused his feet to slip;

Crashed his head against a boulder,

Stunned him, made his senses reel:

Blood came down into his helmet;

Burkley had to grope and feel.

14. Should he yank the upper cable?

Four quick jerks would bring him aid;

Up above his friends were waiting,

But his waving hand was stayed

As another oozing strangler

Laid tight hold upon his wrist.

Burkley swung the faithful missile

Clutched within his other fist.

15. Two were cut and four were fanning,

Waving, seeking for a hold.

One was pulling at his ankle.

(Thoughts of death made Burkley cold.)

Jerked again, he lost his footing;

Strength was failing, failing fast.

Down there in the inky smoke screen,

How much longer could he last?

16. If he jerked the outside cable

And they heard those four loud knocks,

Burkley’s friends may cut his air hose,

Now all tangled in the rocks.

Anchored down there in the darkness

To the bottom of the sea,

Who could help him, who'd deliver,

Set this helpless prisoner free?

17. Down and down the killer dragged him

To his hideout in the deep,

Over jagged, darkened hollows,

Over terrain rough and steep.

Then brave Burkley in his terror,

Down there in that hellish night,

Pulled and gave the diver's signal

To be brought up to the light.

18. Felt his body tug with pressure,

For they pulled with might and main;

Little did they know their comrade

All but fairly came in twain.

Feet held fast upon the bottom

Of that dark forsaken sea,

Pulled by men, his faithful comrades,

Futile, though their strength was three.

19. Finally Burkley lost his senses

Through the pressure of the strain,

Through the agony of thinking,

Through the torture of his pain.

Then the monster’s strength was broken,

And they left that scene of night:

Burkley with a clinging killer

Floated up into the light.

20. Men had bound the diver’s cable,

When their strength did not avail,

To a pin of solid iron

When the boat fell in a valley,

Comrades three clamped on the locks;

And she rose to wrench the killer’s

Vice-like grip upon the rocks.

21. Burkley, limp and red and lifeless,

Red with blood and limp as dead,

Came up bubbling to the surface,

Battered helmet on his head.

To his legs, was he still clinging?

Yes, this killer, strong as life;

At the sight of which a comrade

Whipped in play another knife.

22. A slash or two on coiling tendons,

Splashing, thrashing round their prey,

Freed the helpless. flaccid victim

From the terror of its sway.

Laid they Burkley on the flat-top,

Stripped him of his reddened grill;

Face was white, but eyelids fluttered,

So his life was in him still.

23. Burkley then was told the story,

How the bow went dipping down,

And they lashed his sturdy cable

To a pin and wrapped it round.

When they rose upon the waters,

All the octopus’s pride

Turned to weakness and to folly

As he felt his grippers slide.

24. Burkley typifies the sinner

In the clutches of the foe,

On the blackness of the sea floor,

Just how black all sinners know.

Held by lust and self-ambition,

Held by pride and tendons long;

Anchored to a grave in darkness

By an enemy so strong.

25. What can break sin’s fearful power

In the heart of sinful man?

None of man’s own works or weapons

Ever could or ever can.

God alone can send the power

And its source is from above,

Coming from His throne of glory,

Coming from His heart of love:

26. Saw the helpless sinner striving

Hard to cut his members free,

Milling in the mud of passion,

On the floor of life's dark sea—

Fighting with a fearful monster,

Dragging him to certain death,

Strangling, clutching at his air-hose,

Stifling all his upper breath.

27. God revealed the great Deliverer,

Who alone can set men free,

Sever cords of sin’s dark power,

Holding, hugging you and me.

Up He brought us from the dungeon,

From the darkest, blackest night,

From the gloom of sin’s dominion,

Into God’s own glorious light.

28. Sinner caught; you must admit it,

Bound both hand and foot by chain:

Dead in sin and all uncleanness,

Christ can make you live again.

Send the message to the surface,

“Helpless now, I cry to Thee!

Help me, Lord, my heart is calling

For Thy Blood to set me free.”

29. Presently all Satan’s power,

Though he hold the vice of steel,

Must give way to Christ the Victor,

As the upper lift you feel.

Ah, my sinner friend, this moment,

Bow your head and cease, I say,

From your own weak, feeble efforts,

For there is no other way.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Giving Thanks V

Today, I found myself reminiscing a lot; I'm not sure if it was the comment by one of my students ("Miss Tesfamariam, do you miss your family?") that got me going, but in my minds eye, I saw many captured moments: from my earliest memories of childhood (which actually don't begin until 10ish) through my days in high school, to my four years of college, and right now--as a teacher.
Going with my theme of giving thanks on Monday's, I want to share a college memory. One of my favorite times was dorm devotions. I loved singing as a group--all of us would lay aside our differences and for 10 minutes or so, we would have a window of peace. I also loved listening as voices blended in harmony, giving praise to the Savior. A song we would always sing around Thanksgiving time is "Thanks To God". I'm not sure if I had sung it before coming to college (somethings I just didn't get a "snapshot" of :), but the words were so full of meaning. As I read them again today, I'm reminded of much:

Thanks to God for my Redeemer,

{Thank you Lord, for my salvation}

Thanks for all Thou dost provide!

{Thank You for caring even for "one of these"}

Thanks for times now but a memory,

{Thank You for the good memories that make me smile...and for the bad that allow me to turn to You}

Thanks for Jesus by my side!

{I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee}

Thanks for pleasant, balmy springtime,

{The promise of new life}

Thanks for dark and stormy fall!

{Ahhh....I love fall!}

Thanks for tears by now forgotten,

{The Lord takes all of my hurts and disappointments}

Thanks for peace within my soul!

{Thanks for peace that floods my soul...when I don't understand}
Thanks for prayers that Thou hast answered,

{Thank You for saying "Yes"...

Thanks for what Thou dost deny!

And help me still TRUST when You say "No"}

Thanks for storms that I have weathered,

{Thank You for keeping me safe, "Til the Storm Passes By"}

Thanks for all Thou dost supply!

{But my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus. Phil. 4:19}

Thanks for pain, and thanks for pleasure,

{Thank You for "growing pains" and also in delighting to give me blessings}

Thanks for comfort in despair!

{Thank You for sending the Comforter}

Thanks for grace that none can measure,

{When I fall, You are there to pick me up again--You NEVER give up on me}

Thanks for love beyond compare!

{Calvary...says it all}

Thanks for roses by the wayside,

{Thank You for the sweetness of life...

Thanks for thorns their stems contain!

Even amid heartache and tears}

Thanks for home and thanks for fireside,

{Thank You for my family}

Thanks for hope, that sweet refrain!

{Thank You for being my Hope when I think all else is hopeless}

Thanks for joy and thanks for sorrow,

{Thanks for these that allow my life to be richer}

Thanks for heav’nly peace with Thee!

{Thanks for making me Your child}

Thanks for hope in the tomorrow,

{"Many things about tomorrow, I don't seem to understand; But I know Who holds tomorrow, And I know Who holds my hand"!}
Thanks through all eternity!

{I can never thank You enough for what You have done in my life...and so I shall still be praising You throughout all eternity. Thank You, Lord!}

A little hymn history:
~Thanks to God!

The author, August Ludvig Storm, was born in Sweden. As a young man, he was converted to Christ in a Salvation Army meeting. Soon he joined the Salvation Army Corps. He wrote this hymn’s text for the Army publication, Stridsropet (The War Cry), on December 5, 1891.

The original Swedish version had four stanzas, with each verse beginning with the word tack thanks, having a total of thirty-two thanks in all. The gratitude expressed to God ranges from the dark and dreary Fall to the pleasant, balmy Spring time, pain as well as pleasure, thorns as well as roses.

At the age of thirty-seven, August Storm suffered a back ailment that left him crippled for life. He continued, however, to administer his Salvation Army duties until his death.

A year before his death on July 1, 1914, he wrote another poem in which he thanked God for the years of calm and quiet as well as the years of pain. After his funeral, the Swedish War Cry wrote the following:

It was a delight to listen to his powerful, thoughtful, and well-articulated sermons. And the numerous verses that flowed from his pen are the best that have ever appeared in the Army’s publications.

—Kenneth Osbeck

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Food for Thought

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent.
~John Donne

Recently I heard about the passing of one of God's Saints. My mind instantly thought about his family and how they were dealing with their loss. And then, I thought about the ministries he was involved in. It is quite extensive dealing not only in North America, but internationally as well. The church I grew up in was able to be a part of the ministry through the printing of his books as well as having him speak. In fact, just this past year, this Man of God preached at the church and at our Family Camp. I may have not met him personally, but I know that his life and ministry had far-reaching effects and that he has left behind a worthy legacy for his family and also for those he ministered to.

I have not been to many funerals--I could probably count them on one hand. And, of those only one affected me personally and I knew, in some small way, what it meant to grieve for a loved one.  Just this morning I read in Psalm 116:15 "Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints." and I know God welcomes each of His children with open arms.

I think about what the things I will leave behind. How have I affected the people around me? The students I teach during the school week--how are they going to remember their kindergarten Teacher? Will they remember me as the one who prayed and loved them with all her heart? Or the one who was always frustrated and snapped at them. How will my Sunday School students view me? Someone who invested time, energy, and even money into their lives? Or someone who just went through the motions and had no real fervor to teach them the things of God? What about my friends--can they say that I was one who "sharpened" as it says to do in Proverbs? Or did I passively stand by and worry more about not "rocking the boat" than helping my friend to stay right with the Lord. It doesn't end there--anyone I come in contact with, I will leave an impression on. Will I be remembered as one who strived to live for God? As a warm, caring person interested in the needs of others? Passionate about seeing lost souls brought to the Savior Who died for them? If God were to call me home today, what will I leave behind?

I am going to leave something behind--a legacy. The question is, what kind of legacy.

“Two little lines I heard one day,Traveling along life’s busy way;

Bringing conviction to my heart, And from my mind would not depart;

Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, yes only one, Soon will its fleeting hours be done;

Then, in ‘that day’ my Lord to meet, And stand before His Judgement seat;

Only one life,’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, the still small voice, Gently pleads for a better choice

Bidding me selfish aims to leave, And to God’s holy will to cleave;

Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, a few brief years, Each with its burdens, hopes, and fears;

Each with its clays I must fulfill, living for self or in His will;

Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

When this bright world would tempt me sore, When Satan would a victory score;

When self would seek to have its way, Then help me Lord with joy to say;

Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Give me Father, a purpose deep, In joy or sorrow Thy word to keep;

Faithful and true what e’er the strife, Pleasing Thee in my daily life;

Only one life, ’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Oh let my love with fervor burn, And from the world now let me turn;

Living for Thee, and Thee alone, Bringing Thee pleasure on Thy throne;

Only one life, “twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, yes only one, Now let me say,”Thy will be done”;

And when at last I’ll hear the call, I know I’ll say “twas worth it all”;

Only one life,’twill soon be past, Only what’s done for Christ will last. ”

C.T Studd

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Here They Are

For my first-ever-made-by-myself card, I decided to imitate one of Jimmy Dean's. Mine did not turn out like hers--not even close. And, I was disappointed that I could not translate the image I had in my head to the paper, glue, and embellishments around me to create my first "masterpiece". So, anyway, this was my final product of what I deemed as my guinea pig card.

The inside
The front

The back
Earlier that evening, we decided to go to the library where I got several books; being disgusted with how the card turned out, I thought I should just stick with my regular hobby: reading. So, while the other two were diligently working on "WOW" type cards, I tried to be inconspicuous as possible while reading. It didn't work too well, and after many "Oh, I'm almost done this chapter", they got me started on some more cards.

I was pleasantly surprised.

Back in 2008, I found a calendar that I thought was oh-so-cute. After my flop of trying to make my own from scratch card, I turned to these pictures and just played with matching paper and cardstock...My friends, Jimmy Dean and Jorge, helped me out with embellishments. Anyway, once I started, I actually got into it. Of the twelve pictures, I was able to make seven cards. I hope to finish the rest soon.

 I had such a good time laughing, eating, making cards--it was a memorable night.

And perhaps, just perhaps, I may have found another hobby to fill the coming winter evenings. Thanks Jimmy Dean and Jorge!

Monday, November 1, 2010

Giving Thanks IV

I'm thankful for,

*41*  Opening my inbox and finding emails from friends and family :)

*42* Our Fall Harvest Party went well last night

*43* It's a brand new month! Welcome November.
*44* I got to talk to my sister, Ruth! Always a treat :)

*45* I finished another craft: Card making (pictures coming soon); What made it a memorable night, though, is the time I spent with friends and just having a wonderful time with them.

*46* The reminders of how good God has been to me when I'm tempted to wallow in self-pity.

*47* Knowing that there are many people praying for me.

*48* That no matter what happens, God is still in control.
*49* Sending letters---and getting them!

*50* It Snowed twice last week...a wonderful promise of the days to come :) I love Winter....almost as much as Fall!

*51* We had a day off today--No School!

*52* No mice for over a WEEK! Every time I go into my room and the traps are empty, I release my breath in relief and thanks!

*53* Space heaters...

*54* Old letters and photo books
*55* Portable phones

*56* Only 13 (school) days till Thanksgiving break!

*57* That no great damage was done in last week's windstorms

*58* For answered prayer

*59* God's promise of a home in Heaven for those who trust in His Son, Jesus Christ.

*60* Learning a new Truth in the Bible