tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-200397932024-03-07T00:48:39.260-08:00The Snare Is BrokenThoughts and Meditations from verses and stories through one guy's head and heart... Psalm 124:7James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.comBlogger274125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-12654071449194570722011-08-27T07:38:00.000-07:002011-08-27T07:39:02.592-07:00<p><span class="full-image-block ssNonEditable"><span><a href="http://leeyounger.tumblr.com/ask"><img src="http://leeyounger.squarespace.com/storage/askmeaquestion.gif?__SQUARESPACE_CACHEVERSION=1314447428030" alt="" /></a></span></span></p>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-9581209135743473312011-02-01T06:42:00.000-08:002011-02-01T06:48:00.986-08:00<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXe5Nuiq04-H4qqfnZ06X3Qi2H8ET3SoKU_yh_NQV320Eedpd5IxNijlgHNJGX83kPYjVv20ls-bj-yNRJvobEeSoQgJl-DycmVMvmTZX1RVmTgaHMkKUtOl7BDmQwmMI8aTORDQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-02-01+at+9.46.16+AM.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXe5Nuiq04-H4qqfnZ06X3Qi2H8ET3SoKU_yh_NQV320Eedpd5IxNijlgHNJGX83kPYjVv20ls-bj-yNRJvobEeSoQgJl-DycmVMvmTZX1RVmTgaHMkKUtOl7BDmQwmMI8aTORDQ/s400/Screen+shot+2011-02-01+at+9.46.16+AM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568732667669594514" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></b></span></div>Don't Forget to change your bookmarks and hop on over to the NEW BLOG, "<a href="http://leeyounger.tumblr.com/">Hmm&Hum</a>" where you'll find all the new 'Broken Snare' posts and all kinds of other goodies like kid quotes, pictures and new songs! Updated all the stinkin' time! Come check it out right <a href="http://leeyounger.tumblr.com/">here</a>!!</span></b></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></b></span></div></div><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIyILtPXirOoyyrcDPtL_yzFSOqWVDpuMs3P4Tg2Vi_BySw9dc6C_OlPKJyymtKs7PbyHdMJjeHuiyK93zfS6RvDdbrHEIThxKaY4iUXGbwiwaMzri3PJg5IOHZlsNbNnZ6gnFA/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-02-01+at+9.42.42+AM.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 358px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIyILtPXirOoyyrcDPtL_yzFSOqWVDpuMs3P4Tg2Vi_BySw9dc6C_OlPKJyymtKs7PbyHdMJjeHuiyK93zfS6RvDdbrHEIThxKaY4iUXGbwiwaMzri3PJg5IOHZlsNbNnZ6gnFA/s400/Screen+shot+2011-02-01+at+9.42.42+AM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568732673746205762" /></a>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-78284811865096264102011-01-03T07:43:00.001-08:002011-01-03T07:49:08.367-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><b>Don't Forget To Change Your Bookmarks!!</b></span></span><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>In just a bit, I'm going to be taking down this blog and posting all my meditations from the Scriptures and life over on a tumblr blog which you can find by clicking here: <a href="http://leeyounger.tumblr.com/">Hmm&Hum</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxB8R3fy727QB_utBq6ys1hwuDCy-ohcFgOx7DEeyXWUm5lR-G1mZm4Setqt3tlxxviBrMMksA0YCiSXRvoZf8Ux8y4Pi48LFvPAOIUm7_BEFm9QnWlqAg02-36MxcMNcN6gru0g/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-01-03+at+10.41.28+AM.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 375px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxB8R3fy727QB_utBq6ys1hwuDCy-ohcFgOx7DEeyXWUm5lR-G1mZm4Setqt3tlxxviBrMMksA0YCiSXRvoZf8Ux8y4Pi48LFvPAOIUm7_BEFm9QnWlqAg02-36MxcMNcN6gru0g/s400/Screen+shot+2011-01-03+at+10.41.28+AM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557986302656478722" /></a><br /><br />So, if you enjoy reading these posts, (and thanks by the way, if you do) you'll want to head on over to the <a href="http://leeyounger.tumblr.com/">new blog</a>. Thanks!!<div><br /></div><div><br /></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-7480423758606130182010-12-31T03:57:00.000-08:002010-12-31T04:02:27.687-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWeVxNJDOQTQu4j-X5fYzsxLdtLkeDDwir9GeSO4YUVH5DwY4RY7W-KROHuQec5LGcg7ceEEGPPQ9q2SSeio8u5NcxKd_RqYBJiRRy36lG7ULX2GWfMpsk6zkZt15ivZHC1WOug/s1600/IMG_0332.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWeVxNJDOQTQu4j-X5fYzsxLdtLkeDDwir9GeSO4YUVH5DwY4RY7W-KROHuQec5LGcg7ceEEGPPQ9q2SSeio8u5NcxKd_RqYBJiRRy36lG7ULX2GWfMpsk6zkZt15ivZHC1WOug/s400/IMG_0332.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556814583311090642" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-YKoxHt5_EDizYvoBm10jvic4BXlOYUAcsbhnYbQdSMxA0rnBOUyojfBeLDgMG9m2D2lb5luGdFO5BR6t1WqCerIwoZTgqmGM4swNXzSdyI2rgTmpKT567V70gWxVGIhs1Z4lw/s1600/IMG_0346.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 293px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-YKoxHt5_EDizYvoBm10jvic4BXlOYUAcsbhnYbQdSMxA0rnBOUyojfBeLDgMG9m2D2lb5luGdFO5BR6t1WqCerIwoZTgqmGM4swNXzSdyI2rgTmpKT567V70gWxVGIhs1Z4lw/s400/IMG_0346.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556814582863551602" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjumspTw3Yuhyphenhyphen20JzT2ZyO1keyRYkHcT9bS0ry5Gibs1JG9qtbxrFEvAWTK-hJreWKQD8euoa-Sk9QxSTqabaep2on1Ju9jAR1T7KY3WjddvTLkUZ683LC6edFnyV5Vcy94gsUJEg/s1600/IMG_0345.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjumspTw3Yuhyphenhyphen20JzT2ZyO1keyRYkHcT9bS0ry5Gibs1JG9qtbxrFEvAWTK-hJreWKQD8euoa-Sk9QxSTqabaep2on1Ju9jAR1T7KY3WjddvTLkUZ683LC6edFnyV5Vcy94gsUJEg/s400/IMG_0345.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556814578524993970" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Planted</span></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">How long does your family leave the Christmas tree up? A week, or two maybe? I guess it depends on whether or not you have a real tree. I mean, technically, if you have one of the fake ones, you could let that bad boy stand there in your living room all year long, proud and tall; but if you have a real tree, you’ve got to get it on out of there... Well, I should say you </span></span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">need</span></span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> to get it on out of there. I’ll never forget the time in high school when I went over to my friend Apurva’s house and walked into the living room only to find a Christmas tree that was completely dead and brown from the top to the bottom. By the way, it was the middle of June! When I walked in, Apurva said his dad was wondering if we wouldn’t mind taking the tree down... Hello!</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">To be honest, I was pretty scared to go near the tree. It was drooping there by an enormous window like a rickety old man, fragile and weathered. I was so afraid that at any moment a beam of sunlight refracted through the window would cause the sad, dead stick of a thing to suddenly burst into flames, like a last gasp of life. I looked at Apurva and said, “Why in the world is this thing still up?! Are you crazy?” He said his dad had pestered him for ages to take it down, but he just never got around to it. I told him he should be thankful that the tree never got around to burning his house down! In a heightened sense of my own mortality, I helped my friend slowly and gingerly remove the ornaments from this unpredictable fire hazard and then we picked it up and started to make our way out of the house. I was sweating... trying my hardest to avoid all possible friction, not letting even one of the dry, lifeless needles rub against anything. There was a moment there when we were almost out of the front door when I was afraid that all that fresh oxygen outside plus the tight squeeze of the door jamb would actually cause the thing to combust; but no, we made it. We went across the street and tossed the tired tannenbaum into the woods. I stood there for a bit, just knowing that at any moment that thing would just explode, but nothing.</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As I write this, it’s the very last day of 2010, and to be honest, I’m a bit tired. When I woke up today, I was really feeling the last day of the year. In some ways, I felt like Apurva’s old Christmas tree: dry and used up; but then I rubbed my eyes, opened up the Scriptures, said good morning to the Lord who never sleeps and asked Him to meet with me. As I read, something strange and sweet started happening: I began to feel revived. I started to feel fresh, green and strong. If you will, I began to stretch my branches and take in the warm sunlight (even though the sun hasn’t yet risen on this cold, winter day).</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Check out these verses from a few different Psalms:</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> “Blessed is the one whose delight is in the law of the LORD, and who meditates on his law day and night. That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither - whatever they do prospers... The righteous will flourish like a palm tree, they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon; planted in the house of the LORD, they will flourish in the courts of our God. They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green... I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God; I trust in God’s unfailing love for ever and ever.”</span></span></i></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">As an old year ends today and a new year begins tomorrow, I don’t want to be dry, sad and brown. I want to be planted. I want to be rooted, strong, green and growing in the love of God.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></span></p></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-80393246701897385002010-12-24T02:58:00.001-08:002010-12-24T03:03:43.278-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiny0puBf7EciO9pNCLwvzlyAF070U3JALAStqyZqrzZSd7rqxNM-YR2jhVfaTrUHMCJcNp-KF8EVlyR3e3b21k67yF6aqoIa_e35zRsI8ruWUhqUVt7dJ68JqNDLhwsG1lX6r7-g/s1600/IMG_0309.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiny0puBf7EciO9pNCLwvzlyAF070U3JALAStqyZqrzZSd7rqxNM-YR2jhVfaTrUHMCJcNp-KF8EVlyR3e3b21k67yF6aqoIa_e35zRsI8ruWUhqUVt7dJ68JqNDLhwsG1lX6r7-g/s400/IMG_0309.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554202751442215298" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCYek_XblBAJrJnS1UH6rgh3eTyvoZt_0zGkKyTiXvjEtyi4oxqwTl2XHsN6_0y_JacJiagl7r7_Smy4c1DuWhsPlLURy1f_AKhOuWFcgCw5_da0WLsSJlE85gZbYVHwGhXgLO-g/s1600/IMG_0316.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCYek_XblBAJrJnS1UH6rgh3eTyvoZt_0zGkKyTiXvjEtyi4oxqwTl2XHsN6_0y_JacJiagl7r7_Smy4c1DuWhsPlLURy1f_AKhOuWFcgCw5_da0WLsSJlE85gZbYVHwGhXgLO-g/s400/IMG_0316.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554202746591808770" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy2JagXuyG1b_GTlZ1QrmDNgUZA3q1IdY0O305T7EoPUnGUqOvqVIV_ZVdA3WsH9aqKgAZwr_LeCMH58ElzBD7CPYO-o8E50vjJnZG72Hq64hIuxYgoBE99mY0YwJdsIyqihA38Q/s1600/IMG_0315.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 303px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy2JagXuyG1b_GTlZ1QrmDNgUZA3q1IdY0O305T7EoPUnGUqOvqVIV_ZVdA3WsH9aqKgAZwr_LeCMH58ElzBD7CPYO-o8E50vjJnZG72Hq64hIuxYgoBE99mY0YwJdsIyqihA38Q/s400/IMG_0315.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554202744459808002" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2TuK0enp7okMnAGkVVk6lusodOXhDg9wN5ItZGH1vAcosv3mTMgLLgyu4gtv97Re2TL-u-pCaHsOpa2UdSI1xC0yW67GclvBHRHjGEvmPutT1ItF5HizOZXwml_x02ac6bG7R2Q/s1600/IMG_0312.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2TuK0enp7okMnAGkVVk6lusodOXhDg9wN5ItZGH1vAcosv3mTMgLLgyu4gtv97Re2TL-u-pCaHsOpa2UdSI1xC0yW67GclvBHRHjGEvmPutT1ItF5HizOZXwml_x02ac6bG7R2Q/s400/IMG_0312.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554202737111786498" /></a><br /><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></span></span></b></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Invitation</span></span></span></b></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This week, our family took a little mini-vacation for Christmas with Christy's sister and her family. Before heading off to bed on Monday, my brother-in-law Patrick and I set alarms to wake ourselves up in the middle of the night. At approximately 2:35, I turned off said alarm and hauled my sleepy self out of bed, slipping on some shoes and grabbing my warmest coat off of the back of the couch. Patrick was already downstairs and ready to go. Yes, we were tired, and sure, we were probably going to pay for this in the morning, but we were convinced it would be worth it. You see, this past Tuesday morning, at around 2:45 there was a total lunar eclipse and we were going to see it. </span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It's not every day that the earth lines up between the sun and the moon so perfectly that the earth blocks the sun's rays completely. NASA says that when this happens and the earth casts a shadow over the moon, the moon appears to change color from gray to orange and even deep red because of indirect sunlight filtered through earth's atmosphere that casts a glow on the moon. Pretty cool, huh? But this wasn't the only thing cool about that night. It just so happened that Tuesday was also the winter solstice, which is the night where the earth's axial tilt is farthest away from the sun, meaning the moon appears highest in the sky. This was actually the first total lunar eclipse to fall on the winter solstice since the year 1638! This hasn't happened in 372 years, which meant that no one in living memory had ever seen it! </span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So there we were, freezing our tails off in the middle of the night, watching our breath come out of our faces and looking... looking. We stared up into the sky, searching for the event stargazers had been collectively waiting for almost four hundred years and... Nothing. We couldn't see anything at all. It was so cloudy, nothing in the night sky was visible. We woke up, got dressed and braved the cold for... Nothing.</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">When Almighty God came down to earth as a baby boy on that first Christmas, almost nobody came. Almost nobody cared. In fact, if God had not rocked the worlds of some local shepherds with an impromptu celestial military choir, not even they would have come. The fact that the birth of Jesus was only attended by some blue collar outcasts is cool and it even fits the story, but I'm not so sure it's the way it should have been. You see, when the Father sent the Son into our world, He invited everyone to the party. An unprecedented astronomical event burst into the normalcy of the night sky, proclaiming to anyone who cared to look that a King was born in Israel. It was like a heavenly pop-up ad, a star no one could possibly miss! God was telling the whole world that Jesus was born! And that's not all! Hundreds of years before that star blazed in the night sky, God sent an invitation to his people in their Scriptures. It was like a holy save-the-date card that everyone was supposed to keep pinned up on the calendar. Micah says this: </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times. He will stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. And they will live securely, for then his greatness will reach to the ends of the earth. And he will be their peace."</span></span></i></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><i></i></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">God invited the world, and except for a few outcasts and foreigners, no one came. Hundreds of years of waiting for... Nothing. In my opinion, rejection has got to be one of the most difficult emotions we ever have to deal with. Well, when God finally fulfilled a three thousand year old promise, answering the cries and songs of countless generations, one of the first things He felt was the dull throb of rejection. And yet, hundreds of miles away, someone was waiting, watching and wondering. Way out in a foreign country there were wise men whose hearts were not so clouded up that they missed the invitation. They came and worshipped. And just like He did then, God is calling me, wanting me, inviting me to come and know Him. The invitation is here today, in front my face and I don't want to miss it.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-50183323975981313702010-12-21T11:43:00.001-08:002010-12-21T11:44:28.922-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Merry Christmas!</span></b></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"></span></b></span> This is a collection of acoustic demos of Christmas tunes, but they aren't the traditional Christmas songs you're used to hearing on radio stations and in department stores at this time of year... No, these are brand new Christmas songs that developed out of the quiet reflection of my own heart as I considered the Old Story once again. God loved the world enough to come down here Himself and save it by emptying Himself, becoming one of us and then giving Himself to death in our place. May we never tire of singing the Old Story in new songs.<br /><br />Cheers,<br /><br />lee</span><br /><br /><img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border="0" width="0" height="0" src="http://c.gigcount.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI5Mjk2MDM2NjU1MyZwdD*xMjkyOTYwNTc1OTY3JnA9MTkwMjgxJmQ9YWVhZDNkYTUtNTlmYS**YTRhLWFhMDMtYTNmMDEz/YzI4MzM5Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTImbz1jMjY4NzFhZjUxNDI*ZTMwOGU1ZDVjNGU4YzMzZmQyOSZvZj*w.gif" /><div style="width:240px; height: 400px;"><object width="240" height="400"><param name="movie" value="http://static.noisetrade.com/w/widget.swf?wid=aead3da5-59fa-4a4a-aa03-a3f013c28339"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://static.noisetrade.com/w/widget.swf?wid=aead3da5-59fa-4a4a-aa03-a3f013c28339" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="240" height="400"></embed></object></div></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-36897084342223803572010-12-15T13:04:00.000-08:002010-12-15T13:09:42.310-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4mWmzziVpD5YoQ_wYa1lhwgS9d7niJLq20Zzxc7X-uDBEYUqqgiG537UuOr8UOuJGvBX6U1Ml4p_KEPYxKVmpEd9vDQT1C0NQT_QOptg0srEiywTcrfhiyhMUlEZ3j4-XREIalg/s1600/IMG_0279.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 281px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4mWmzziVpD5YoQ_wYa1lhwgS9d7niJLq20Zzxc7X-uDBEYUqqgiG537UuOr8UOuJGvBX6U1Ml4p_KEPYxKVmpEd9vDQT1C0NQT_QOptg0srEiywTcrfhiyhMUlEZ3j4-XREIalg/s400/IMG_0279.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551018567480366050" /></a><br /><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Still Waiting</span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">A shocking bit of news in the world of sports went largely unnoticed this afternoon. ESPN didn't run the story and you probably won't find an in-depth report on the pages of Sports Illustrated, but it's sort of a big deal. You see, today I officially retired from fantasy football. I know, I know, only a few short weeks ago on this blog I went on and on about how much I loved this hallowed, so-called sport, this make-believe clash of nerdy couch potatoes; but alas, I'm calling it quits. I'm hanging up my fake headset and my pretend whistle. I'm stepping off the phony sidelines and out of the artificial stadium for the last time. Some of my colleagues have seen this decision coming for weeks now. I've been going through a slump of discouraging losses that have turned a fun little game into a weekly, Internet homework assignment I just can't be bothered to turn in. In short, I'm over it. I wish I could say that it has nothing to do with the fact that I should have been really good this year and wasn't, but hey, let's face it, that's pretty much what it boils down to.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And to be even more childish, I blame it all on one guy... Chris Johnson. Now, I love the Tennessee Titans and I love Chris Johnson as a person; and if we ever met I'd want to be friends, (especially because he could crush me) but in the realm of fake sports, he has sadly let me down. I drafted last year's most dominant pro football player because he promised to have another 2,500 yard season. Coupled with Tom Brady, I should have been competitive every week with only two of my players, but CJ has been a total bust. The player that broke records and dropped jaws in 2009 assured the world he would have an even more brilliant and memorable season in 2010, but those promises haven't been fulfilled. I'm still waiting on him to have even one really great week. This disappointment of unfulfilled promises has basically become too much to handle in what my wife calls my "fantasy world." So, thanks to Chris Johnson, I'm walking away with only one imaginary Super Bowl ring.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Unfulfilled promises can be one of life's most devastating realities. Someone promises us something, we believe them and so we start to get our hopes up. When the promised something doesn't come through, we find that the expectation of that promise has become in our minds a guarantee we have banked upon, planned on and feel entitled to. This let down is worse than if we had never wanted whatever it was in the first place. The other day I was reading Luke 1 and thinking about Mary who received promises from Almighty God at the hands of Gabriel, one of the Lord's blazing, eternal messengers. When I read those familiar words again, something struck me... Aside from mentioning the pregnancy and birth, Gabriel didn't really go into any detail about all of the vast struggles and problems this heavenly assignment was going to bring Mary's way. In fact, the stuff Gabriel talked about was all sounding pretty awesome!</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">"The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end. ” </span></i></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Look at that! Her baby would be called great and become a King and sit enthroned forever and ever! And then this thought struck me with a dull thud: Mary is </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">still waiting </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">on those promises to be fulfilled. 2,000 years later, Mary, who endured so much toil and heartbreak is still waiting on the joyful fulfillment of the promises God made to her when she was but a teenager! Wow. And so it is for those who walk with God. This life winds up being harder than we thought it would be for longer than we ever dreamed it could be. But that's not the end of this story, because God </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">is</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> faithful. He will fulfill every word Gabriel spoke to little Mary. It may not be for another 2,000 years or even more, but it </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">will</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> happen, and when it does, not only Mary's, but all our dreams will come true forever and ever.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">P.S. I'm going to be moving this blog to a new location soon, so if you like reading these weekly posts, click </span><a href="http://leeyounger.tumblr.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">here</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"> and then set the new page as your bookmark. Thanks for reading... I hope it's an encouragement to you!</span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-79756111091793614152010-12-08T13:07:00.000-08:002010-12-08T13:31:17.087-08:00<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">A couple pics from our pumpkin patch trip with the cousins!</span></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOYu75hb7c9AXBgQmbfJscF9Mx5YECwN4WL6WapyX1-R3kJbfztHNQc3M-w1qfrQ_1VfIjyx4X24pS2HKfIXDWQd6b7z7ZbPpqlYgNBkx61ElbFhkOxxWrLgsNKiUKIu386RH5A/s1600/DSC_0257.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOYu75hb7c9AXBgQmbfJscF9Mx5YECwN4WL6WapyX1-R3kJbfztHNQc3M-w1qfrQ_1VfIjyx4X24pS2HKfIXDWQd6b7z7ZbPpqlYgNBkx61ElbFhkOxxWrLgsNKiUKIu386RH5A/s400/DSC_0257.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548425569251889458" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9cVv-PrSmiC5wgxnkJ8pSPE7tB7Ou38ohCsmeTS7Zlr5P6_CM4_boY0LcvyImrIUKuyP-owAkCus3u39cdxmfHQ1CSxZ3ondSekhE3pbBMnE-N2_ev1dE4lPFWizTZMqOP7JOw/s1600/DSC_0257.JPG"><br /></a></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdltWOZ3wWvPyD0quXLGvS_2ic6-wbEr3GWju_XI2JI9UXRsD7QHTw51M5CBXwUdZWrmBh7fxk7j5nLxaqCqnVPyqJsusxgo8PwuADieRnGS9rScoesJ2GXYQ195B0kmu-GGKL9A/s1600/DSC_0321.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdltWOZ3wWvPyD0quXLGvS_2ic6-wbEr3GWju_XI2JI9UXRsD7QHTw51M5CBXwUdZWrmBh7fxk7j5nLxaqCqnVPyqJsusxgo8PwuADieRnGS9rScoesJ2GXYQ195B0kmu-GGKL9A/s400/DSC_0321.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548425552103930946" /></a><br /><div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Of Priests And Plumbers</span></span></span></b></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">When does a homeowner really start to </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">feel </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">like a homeowner? I think there is a point at which one crosses that divide and says, "Man, this place is really mine!" but what exactly is that point? Is it signing all the papers on closing day? Well, sort of, but no, not really. Is it moving all of your stuff in? No, not so much for me. That's mainly annoying. Is it painting the walls your own custom color and hanging up your family portraits? Um, maybe, but not really what I'm going for here. Is it going outside on a perfect, bright summer day and mowing the grass? Is it answering the door with a bowl of candy for adorable and neighborly trick-or-treaters? Is it hanging up the wreath on the front door and stringing up lights for Christmas? No, no and again, no. Sadly, though these are all great things, nothing makes the sobering fact of home-ownership sink in quite like replacing the wax ring under your toilet for the very first time.</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We have been experiencing some plumbing problems of late. Turns out that the folks who remodeled our house cut a few corners when it came time to install the toilets, so that the flange underneath the throne isn't really attached to anything and the tile is uneven, which makes the can sort of rock from side to side. Long story short, the wax seal underneath the john becomes compromised and the whole house fills up with the unique, unmistakable and disparaging smell of sewage and methane gas... And look, when you have a problem with your toilets, you have a </span></span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">problem</span></span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. That is when you </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">know</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> you're a homeowner. I mean, yesterday, the kids were insane. There was so much griping, complaining and fussing that I almost lost my mind. At the end of the day, Christy just said, "I think everyone in the house has just been completely affected by the overwhelming smell of poo." Amen, sister!</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">A friend told me to simply change the wax ring out and make a new seal. He said it costs $2.00, takes ten minutes and is a piece of cake, so I took Jack down to Home Depot so that he could see how a real man takes care of his family and fixes things. I came home with the wax ring and got to work. 45 minutes later my back was sore, my hands were sticky, I was frustrated and confused and our house still smelled like a T-Rex with the stomach flu. I went to bed emotionally drained and spent a restless night tossing and turning, unable to stop thinking about my failure as a man and the pungent smell of doo. I needed help! I needed someone with skills who could do the things I couldn't! I needed someone with wax ring experience and an iron nasal constitution to swoop into my house and help me! I needed the homeowners best friend! I needed... a reasonable plumber.</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I called him this morning. He came in and did the things I don't know how to do. He installed new wax rings, meticulously fitted some plastic shims to stop the rocking pot and did it all without uttering even one profanity. Wow. </span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In the Old Testament, there was a whole class of folks whose lives were devoted to doing things for people they couldn't do for themselves. They were the priests. They interfaced with Almighty God on behalf of the normal folks. They sang to Him, sacrificed to Him and prayed to Him. One very special priest, called, "the high priest" got to go right into the presence of God on one day of the year. Those guys are gone, but now Jesus has become our High Priest. Hebrews 7 says,</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> "Such a high priest meets our need–one who is holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners, exalted above the heavens. Unlike the other high priests, he does not need to offer sacrifices day after day, first for his own sins, and then for the sins of the people. He sacrificed for their sins once for all when he offered himself." </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Isn't that awesome? Jesus is the one who has done for us what we could have never done ourselves. When we are frustrated, confused and covered in the stench of our own haphazardly patched-up lives, we have a high priest who gives us peace with God, adoption by God and friendship with God: Jesus, the friend of sinners and our merciful High Priest.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-59138877272573966692010-12-03T02:00:00.000-08:002010-12-03T02:01:41.000-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT87nYtDRogg72ST1PsvZVcBIhK57V-2RKRihKq956pQ3eMeuIJaL1NFHGHYdpcL91_YgO0H4LqeTyfcMVWpMwnpp3b4W9bNQLBWcPdTm4BaXliZv0gu_aQHx7Xx5PVlILiwubEg/s1600/IMG_0232.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT87nYtDRogg72ST1PsvZVcBIhK57V-2RKRihKq956pQ3eMeuIJaL1NFHGHYdpcL91_YgO0H4LqeTyfcMVWpMwnpp3b4W9bNQLBWcPdTm4BaXliZv0gu_aQHx7Xx5PVlILiwubEg/s400/IMG_0232.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546393888106905122" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH1_SXPt0HLpesdC2Nx-3Jr-qmPiXjqK2issKQTgN92Jq2GS_5LxBV32bp9bu46kYEKQrL5dAutKUlZL8rKGTnrU4eqyaGhfVhHeJDUV4vHXy73Nb3rOsju1ybXuvlY_QrG-99Hw/s1600/IMG_0246.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 308px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH1_SXPt0HLpesdC2Nx-3Jr-qmPiXjqK2issKQTgN92Jq2GS_5LxBV32bp9bu46kYEKQrL5dAutKUlZL8rKGTnrU4eqyaGhfVhHeJDUV4vHXy73Nb3rOsju1ybXuvlY_QrG-99Hw/s400/IMG_0246.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546393881116192210" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdPeEY3MPwi7Z6jFrLxjmA7SdDfkYQYdJUHCpSfwc0tOEbK4yMJv3rJeINQttXrFwPVQhfQb0XAA8v-GDYTGqfpRKoc8c2EDCJgN2TKSh5RdDdO14qb8QesNvBXa7cl3D78GE-jg/s1600/IMG_0247.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdPeEY3MPwi7Z6jFrLxjmA7SdDfkYQYdJUHCpSfwc0tOEbK4yMJv3rJeINQttXrFwPVQhfQb0XAA8v-GDYTGqfpRKoc8c2EDCJgN2TKSh5RdDdO14qb8QesNvBXa7cl3D78GE-jg/s400/IMG_0247.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546393875394591810" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">A Memorial For A Princess</span></span></span></b></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Yesterday I got a new audiobook by Walter Wangerin called, "The Book Of God" which is a novelization of the Bible. So far, it is both beautiful and terribly sad. Even though I know the stories already, I couldn't believe the way Sarah and Abraham treated Hagar. My heart went out to Ishmael as he and his poor mother were sent away from the only home, family and safety they knew. Then came the story of Rebekah , which was a sweet breath of fresh air before the disorienting heartbreak that was the tale of Jacob, Rachel and Leah.</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Jacob was just like I remember him; brilliant, headstrong and about three steps ahead of everyone else. After having tricked his brother out of his inheritance twice, and lying to his father, Jacob left home, running for his life to his mother's home country. When he arrived, he fell in love with Rachel on first sight. But you remember the story; the trickster got tricked! Rachel's dad gave Jacob the older sister Leah instead of Rachel. Nobody wanted Leah, but there she was. Before you know it, Jacob found himself hitched to two sisters who spent the next ten years hating each other and using themselves and their servants to have a baby-off with Jacob in the middle of the whole thing! </span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">What really got me in all of this mess was Leah. Poor Leah. She didn't ask for this life. She didn't mean to be always in the way. She was constantly rejected; not pretty enough, not fun enough, not Rachel enough. As I listened to Leah's story unfold, my heart broke with hers. No one loved her, no one saw her, no one wanted her. Have you ever felt that way? Have you ever felt like Leah? Have you ever felt unseen, unnoticed and unwanted? I had to think that at least part of my sadness over Leah's story was the mirror it forced me to look into, and how lonely it feels to be Leah. Probably everyone feels that way sometimes. </span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">When Leah got pregnant, (something Rachel couldn't do) she named her first son, "See, a son!" just hoping that Jacob would finally love her, or at least look her way. It didn't work. She did so much talking about how unwanted she was that when she had another baby, she figured even God had heard her miseries and so she named this one, "He heard." When she had yet another son she thought, "Okay, surely this time my husband will be attached to me because I've given him three boys!" so she named him, "Attached." but, no dice. She still wasn’t Rachel enough for Jacob. Finally she got pregnant again and I guess Leah just decided that even if her husband never loved her, at least God did. God heard her, He saw how unloved and unwanted she was and maybe for the first time, that was enough for Leah. This fourth baby she named, “Praise God.” </span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Listening to this story unfold, I was so sad for Leah until I remembered something. I remembered that Leah’s not sad anymore. In fact, Leah hasn’t been sad in over 4,000 years! Not only that, that fourth baby of hers, the one she named, “Praise God” became the great, great, great, great... (skip a few) great, great grandfather of our Lord Jesus, the Son of God, the Prince of Peace! The whole history of the world changed by the descendant of Leah! The rescue of the human race came through Leah’s family! The girl no one wanted turned out to be the very girl God Almighty wanted. The person no one saw wound up being a princess in the Kingdom of God and a name no one will ever forget forever and ever. So, for all of us who have ever felt unnoticed, unwanted, unimportant or unloved, remember Leah. Remember that God sees you and He loves you and that’s no small thing. Remember that your story isn’t over yet and you never know what God is up to. Hey may be getting ready to blow your mind in a few thousand years.</span></span></span></p></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-50161717150066897262010-11-25T05:41:00.000-08:002010-11-25T05:48:56.378-08:00<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">We're in Huntsville for Thanksgiving with the Hulls and we took the kids down to NASA's space and rocket center:</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRt7ut2CAA3uRramq-BdYyTedEBkakH9Pl7ZToC_v9d8dRkWa8axtiWyIXdIebccnxCF1AAsA4QYOqKfv_VJ4z7i0AqGR1r8wZHH7TaLKD54L3mvveDe2x2qnnjWLJZuwTkmPRQ/s1600/photo-9.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRt7ut2CAA3uRramq-BdYyTedEBkakH9Pl7ZToC_v9d8dRkWa8axtiWyIXdIebccnxCF1AAsA4QYOqKfv_VJ4z7i0AqGR1r8wZHH7TaLKD54L3mvveDe2x2qnnjWLJZuwTkmPRQ/s400/photo-9.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543482133286653698" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmbalPFhG1GTd4iHTLKtKgdVj4WqR6Y6e-wF_AopT6zcNKqPuKWHgZuKFFN7g4GleEvod8BeIJ6A9KdsGIBFaLdSm8rvYRz7yTLe8D1zHAoOCe8N0tPgq0N2gzDgY1pmEFFrp8Q/s1600/photo-10.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmbalPFhG1GTd4iHTLKtKgdVj4WqR6Y6e-wF_AopT6zcNKqPuKWHgZuKFFN7g4GleEvod8BeIJ6A9KdsGIBFaLdSm8rvYRz7yTLe8D1zHAoOCe8N0tPgq0N2gzDgY1pmEFFrp8Q/s400/photo-10.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543482124743666690" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJjiQ7KKoRyYNrhi4fOu_mF1ywENEhHUZ5kQX6CcWOdDsL-ZJh6-QN2ryXll9_0LGKCIILPf9vevsW0kIAARfTG_bVRfWLv-61oVxy-ldD9PXGeToFdAYOb_Ny5r6prZol5RXuzg/s1600/photo-11.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJjiQ7KKoRyYNrhi4fOu_mF1ywENEhHUZ5kQX6CcWOdDsL-ZJh6-QN2ryXll9_0LGKCIILPf9vevsW0kIAARfTG_bVRfWLv-61oVxy-ldD9PXGeToFdAYOb_Ny5r6prZol5RXuzg/s400/photo-11.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543482113586474946" /></a><br /><div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Ghosts</span></span></span></b></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">If ghosts were real, they would be among the lamest things in the world. I mean, sure, probably the lamest thing around these days would have to be Brett Favre still trying to play football for the lowly Vikings, but a close second would have to be ghosts. In fact, now I think about it, Brett Favre is a bit like a ghost... a misty, unsubstantial shadow of something that used to really be something hanging about and pointlessly haunting his old stomping grounds... Lame! If ghosts were real, they would probably be scary for the first few times you met one, and then not at all after that. I mean, they can't do anything to you, right? After you really hung out with one, you would quickly learn that they can't hurt you and you could just walk right through them into the next room whenever they tried to annoy you. Annoying... that's what they'd be! After you got over the initial shock of these airborne, ethereal stalkers, you'd simply tell them to get over it and go bother someone else! "Move on there, dude! You're dead! The dream is over! Stop being lame! We're all trying to actually </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">live</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> here!"</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Now I know this is all just silliness. I mean, there are no such things as ghosts. Hebrews 9:27 says this, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">"Just as man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgment." </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">So there. Once you're dead, you're dead and gone. People don't hang about, creeping on all their old places and relations, trying to half-exist in the bygone memories of a terrestrial life that has left them far behind. No, people die and then they're gone. They face the Lord and He sorts out the rest. So, why in the world am I talking about how lame ghosts would be if they in fact existed? Well it's because, quite frankly, sometimes I look around and think that I see one swooping about and haunting their distant past when they ought to just move on. Now, don't get me wrong... I'm not talking about literal ghosts here. I'm not seeing disembodied spirits of dead folks floating around. I'm talking about people; real, live people who act just like ghosts; and believe me when I say, it's lame.</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Colossians 3 says this: </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">"Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. Because of these, the wrath of God is coming."</span></span></i></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">If you know Jesus, you died to your old life! When we get too wrapped up in things that have to do with this life, it's like we're ghosts, haunting old memories! We died to all that stuff and now we've been raised up with Christ for a brand new kind of life!! It's time to move on! It's time to leave behind the ethereal phantoms of greed, impurity and the like and step out into the firm reality of true and new life in Jesus!! If you know and love Him, don't get too wrapped up in earthly things! Don't waste your day haunting the old neighborhood of money, worry and terrestrial politics! Give your heart and your energy to the kind of stuff that Jesus cares about! Don't be a ghost... it's lame. Move on. Live. Breathe the fresh air of resurrected life. You're already raised up and hidden with Him in God... So leave all that other stuff behind, or as Paul says, "You died, so put the rest of that junk to death too!" Come and live!</span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-20506562613011411662010-11-17T12:25:00.000-08:002010-11-17T12:27:56.530-08:00<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">So, my computer died this week, but I did get an iPad...</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbxsB0fEFkcewMK2siDRqLPqDDJy4KnbThpA0jDfpglBSuB557fefMhQcpEnoSjlmisjBYGYG_huEZVxFowsJyFWDQRPqPkRvm4lOIC83IugZ9EP11ctnz4lU2cE3oZaCC89IfA/s1600/IMG_0172.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 374px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbxsB0fEFkcewMK2siDRqLPqDDJy4KnbThpA0jDfpglBSuB557fefMhQcpEnoSjlmisjBYGYG_huEZVxFowsJyFWDQRPqPkRvm4lOIC83IugZ9EP11ctnz4lU2cE3oZaCC89IfA/s400/IMG_0172.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540617701009728098" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnJrCE7LrPnuyQfbxIuxz5jkW6J0e9Saj9T1wZoxIlOWy_lRp6HFFAKrVpXdmTlxAnAlNp-Y3TMJBVHcXIvqWPFH1WQB4Y1bVofnplUnNYljwnjf747UzmKi8WYbg8tDUBpO-Jrw/s1600/IMG_0187.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnJrCE7LrPnuyQfbxIuxz5jkW6J0e9Saj9T1wZoxIlOWy_lRp6HFFAKrVpXdmTlxAnAlNp-Y3TMJBVHcXIvqWPFH1WQB4Y1bVofnplUnNYljwnjf747UzmKi8WYbg8tDUBpO-Jrw/s400/IMG_0187.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540617693809166946" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2g4PO-9zjB53ClncxhGhk3sIqNEGAguE3bsKPte8sGGF2Vxm2iNuBGblQDgM2uBWnIgsePqBiJhLTDQb4gJWZ-0zvuHJMeJxbQZWkmBhiBrs_K0TJlMxOtSGjDWuj0oh-ribDNA/s1600/IMG_0188.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2g4PO-9zjB53ClncxhGhk3sIqNEGAguE3bsKPte8sGGF2Vxm2iNuBGblQDgM2uBWnIgsePqBiJhLTDQb4gJWZ-0zvuHJMeJxbQZWkmBhiBrs_K0TJlMxOtSGjDWuj0oh-ribDNA/s400/IMG_0188.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540617684844710930" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Cooler Than You Think</span></span></b></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">When I was in college, I worked for an after school day care business at an elementary school in Cookeville, TN. It was a good college job that was always filled with some surprising ridiculousness... like the day my boss had to hose off the sidewalk because of a kindergartner who wasn't all that potty trained yet, but whose mother thought boxers would be a good idea... or like the consistent rhythm of lice outbreaks. One mother even shaved her daughter's head... Twice! Well, every fall we would take the kids on a field trip to a local farmer's corn maze and pumpkin patch to go on a hayride and pick out a pumpkin for home. It was always a fairly ridiculous trip... like the time a kid was so allergic to the hay and straw that his little face exploded into a bulbous, oozing, red balloon and one of our leaders had to spend the whole afternoon with him on the bus... or the time a kid got stuck in a rustic-themed obstacle course/fun house slide and got so freaked out that he screamed and then used the bathroom right there on the straw strewn slide. </span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">These were my corn maze experiences. This is the kind of craziness I came to associate with pumpkin patches, so you can imagine my reticence and well, flat out fear when Christy suggested we take our kids to some farm out in the middle of nowhere and do the corn maze thing again. My initial internal reaction? "Lame..."</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Long story short, our trip to the pumpkin patch was one of the funnest and sweetest things I've done in a long time. It turned out that Patty and Patrick came into town, so the kids got to spend the day with their sweet cousins, and folks, the corn maze we went to in Halls was awesome!! They had a giant blob buried in the sand that was basically just an enormous trampoline the size of a small house. They had a go cart track for little cars that kids could pedal around. They had a huge sandbox complete with shovels and Tonka trucks. There were slides, a bouncy castle and a great little hayride, and there was a ton more cool stuff there. It was a perfect day, we got some great pictures and had an amazing time. Lesson? The thing I thought would be lame because of some bad experiences wound up being a lot cooler than I thought.</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was reading Colossians 1 this morning and there is a place where Paul shares his prayer for these folks, and he starts building up this crescendo of things he wants for them, and it's a list that starts with walking and ends in all the glorious power of Almighty God... </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"And we pray this in order that you may walk in a manner worthy of the Lord and may please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have..."</span></span></i></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Have what?!? What's he building up to here? Paul seems to be pumping up the volume and cranking up the drama so that he can reveal the very height of spiritual maturity! Surely this next statement will represent the most amazing, earth-shattering ministry, right?! Well, maybe not. Or at least, not to our ears... Paul says, "...being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light."</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That's the big ending... The height of spiritual maturity and manifestation of all the power of God in a person's life: endurance, patience and gratitude. It may not seem like much, but what God is really working for in the hearts of His people, the thing that really pleases His heart is a person that just patiently hangs in there every day, thanking God for where they are and what He has given. I'm not saying I'm there yet, but the older I get and the farther into this walk I get, it's what I want more and more. It may not look like much to us, but when you try it on, you find it's cooler than you think.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-43516082959795288762010-11-11T06:48:00.000-08:002010-11-11T06:57:29.897-08:00<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">More pictures from our Fall Break Hike at Frozen Head:</span></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqw5WGwFhOxhAMa5_MjqFYMgzq7J9h71xxbDZs0JBL5nvd90vWpsE3QRN2TwsvkwEbxAe5VxHHYDmBvMlKxdINev8PQxtyVCO518mO6HnizY3WV_g2yn92nToehQUN6rKM0WZT-g/s1600/photo-9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqw5WGwFhOxhAMa5_MjqFYMgzq7J9h71xxbDZs0JBL5nvd90vWpsE3QRN2TwsvkwEbxAe5VxHHYDmBvMlKxdINev8PQxtyVCO518mO6HnizY3WV_g2yn92nToehQUN6rKM0WZT-g/s400/photo-9.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538304826349269522" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Tp40vWYERjrJewp8XJzKTAXl36Yo3KtR1cyFbxujkyzMajUZ08PMkdlE9htQf662OMCEDdA3hK5Lw2BB6gCCyJTAM-1H_ige5c61nX7oYeJIfzabFODoWm6rFqMfbo3pE6KjDQ/s1600/photo-10.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Tp40vWYERjrJewp8XJzKTAXl36Yo3KtR1cyFbxujkyzMajUZ08PMkdlE9htQf662OMCEDdA3hK5Lw2BB6gCCyJTAM-1H_ige5c61nX7oYeJIfzabFODoWm6rFqMfbo3pE6KjDQ/s400/photo-10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538304821397031250" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXlOY5aX7Ni0dLtbzqu_4dzsrP6hqJakjcYg2nnRnX-ZTFZOPOM6cLiwr5y8-aRgAIcc8eim6iHG0OCd82FXGITsnomCs5HGceHTH8tCIEPR4bUvADBq0hTDhW2Qa8i4bV_d1r5g/s1600/photo-11.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXlOY5aX7Ni0dLtbzqu_4dzsrP6hqJakjcYg2nnRnX-ZTFZOPOM6cLiwr5y8-aRgAIcc8eim6iHG0OCd82FXGITsnomCs5HGceHTH8tCIEPR4bUvADBq0hTDhW2Qa8i4bV_d1r5g/s400/photo-11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538304819719040418" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Stats</span></span></b><br /><br />I’m kind of a nerdy person. I love Star Wars, comic books and every single product manufactured by Apple. I have read every Harry Potter book more than ten times each and can tell you more about the history of Tolkein’s Middle Earth than I can about our current American Congress. Of all this nerdery however, probably the dorkiest thing about me is my participation in Fantasy Football.<br /><br />I’m fairly sure that if alien life forms from outer space ever visited this planet, they would say that apart from bull running, eating competitions and Joan Rivers, Fantasy Football is the weirdest thing about human beings. I mean, the sport of football is weird enough already, right? Twenty-two guys ensconce themselves in protective padding from head to foot so that they can hit each other as hard as possible for an hour without getting arrested, and the whole point is to see who can take the overgrown bean across a line. Hmm. And the people that are really good at crossing the line with the bean are among the most famous and wealthy people on our planet. Hmm. But the weirdness doesn’t stop there, because millions of people all over the world pretend that they are the owners, managers and coaches of the various millionaire bean toters (even though they’re not) and stage make-believe competitions loosely based on the actual toting of the bean.<br /><br />Wow. When you break it down and analyze it like that, I admit it’s pretty dang weird. Here’s the thing: I love it. I’m one of those guys. I am a fully-grown man with a loving wife, three kids and a mortgage who basically plays make-believe dollhouse using statistics from the real-life athletic performances of actual people like Peyton Manning and Braylon Edwards. It’s part poker, part chess and part reality show that all come together to make a socially acceptable male drama, and the whole thing revolves around stats... Numbers. How many yards will they get on Sunday? How many points will that defense allow? Every day and all day long, millions of guys check their computers, crunch the numbers and weigh the advice of the experts, wondering who is going to put up the most impressive stats. And none of it is even real! What if you had stats? What if there was a system of measurement that weighed the performance of your life and spiritual growth? What if someone was betting on you, hoping you would have a really good day today? Yikes!<br /><br />For quarterbacks and wide receivers there are a variety of stats that make them valuable players, and most people would probably name a million things that mark measurable spiritual maturity, but according to the Apostle Paul, there is only one thing that matters. For Paul, there is one stat, and it is love. In 1 Corinthians 13 he says, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing."</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br />No matter how dynamic I think my ministry is, no matter what results I think I'm getting and no matter what anyone else tells me about myself, if I don't love, I don't have anything. Love is the most important thing about me and the only stat that counts, period.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-23924766411435372222010-11-05T03:45:00.000-07:002010-11-05T03:48:37.320-07:00<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Anna read her first chapter book silently to herself this week!! (Junie B. First Grader, Cheater Pants) Way to go, girl!</span></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSk0-ANlB8WLKR9FUE_zlNCnv20v1ipV89SAyPuXHaav6L-1c030yhKiwykfN_Kd96ye0O7_gY8-ihQ6FwKe02lpi0lErwklnRsF1fgdWO7wi6KCJi76tH0GUVvRo_kYaTagQ6g/s1600/IMG_0134.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 307px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSk0-ANlB8WLKR9FUE_zlNCnv20v1ipV89SAyPuXHaav6L-1c030yhKiwykfN_Kd96ye0O7_gY8-ihQ6FwKe02lpi0lErwklnRsF1fgdWO7wi6KCJi76tH0GUVvRo_kYaTagQ6g/s400/IMG_0134.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536015155922812642" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl9LHTyYQicGWOMEYXOIghJYP4BkILx8s6Qh8i34mKvPpfUAh_4zAKhr1aPsk7Iu-QAXPT6tiJWT63MG2AW1Lxyn2cttSeabVa08OBkGK6EvAztm9EwaRn63P1NbpyVnMTLw76Ig/s1600/IMG_0139.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl9LHTyYQicGWOMEYXOIghJYP4BkILx8s6Qh8i34mKvPpfUAh_4zAKhr1aPsk7Iu-QAXPT6tiJWT63MG2AW1Lxyn2cttSeabVa08OBkGK6EvAztm9EwaRn63P1NbpyVnMTLw76Ig/s400/IMG_0139.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536015153324940450" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Our little Trunk or Treaters:</span></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqyRsVJpoOKlQmy5dC2qsnWpS7o7hb6VIijb9Y4KhgqZp0_kVno1mm3GdwPzvvLXWWH1FjfoF8LksoPNTuVY4bQDzsuUyIesaQVaRZeO04e1RAOicqtIFf0OcjtgfDbT3-9cemBg/s1600/IMG_0152.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqyRsVJpoOKlQmy5dC2qsnWpS7o7hb6VIijb9Y4KhgqZp0_kVno1mm3GdwPzvvLXWWH1FjfoF8LksoPNTuVY4bQDzsuUyIesaQVaRZeO04e1RAOicqtIFf0OcjtgfDbT3-9cemBg/s400/IMG_0152.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536015145379196898" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Poor Jack after his last minute surgery on Thursday:</span></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimVjMFADpUQPEgV4D_fI5pTVyOGMariTVveocrBuEl8GLXOmYukssorjMdyLFjTw9ylY5d2BKLWWZGluCQSIZcjVhLjknTGQzNKHgW3c11J3MvDGlPFMw3phc4ZNi5r5TykhVxHQ/s1600/IMG_0164.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimVjMFADpUQPEgV4D_fI5pTVyOGMariTVveocrBuEl8GLXOmYukssorjMdyLFjTw9ylY5d2BKLWWZGluCQSIZcjVhLjknTGQzNKHgW3c11J3MvDGlPFMw3phc4ZNi5r5TykhVxHQ/s400/IMG_0164.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536015144254538626" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><p id="internal-source-marker_0.37038707663305104" style="text-align: right; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Emergency Fervor</span></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></b></span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">This week has been a bit of a ‘drop everything and put out a fire’ kind of week. You see, Jack has been sick for a month. Turns out one of the tubes put in his ears last February came out in the beginning of October and he immediately developed an ear infection that we still haven’t kicked. The poor guy got more and more sick over last month and the only thing the prescribed antibiotics did was serve up a heaping helping of stomach problems that have led to a host of other discomforts. Last week we even had to stop his medicine right in the middle because it was causing him so many more problems than it was curing! All in all, the guy has spent the last few weeks or so in pain, confused, saddle sore, with a faucet for a nose and sleeping badly. When he’s not been completely distracted by tons of people or something really awesome, he’s been fussing. Needless to say, it’s been tough on everybody.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Two days ago I took him in to see his Ear, Nose and Throat doctor, who looked at his dramatically infected ear for the second time in as many weeks and said, “Well Dad, he’s sick.” Yeah... I gathered that. Thanks. After reflecting on the history of this unsuccessful month of treatment, our doctor paused for a second in thought, looked at his watch and then, with an urgent look in his eye, said, “You know what? I think I have a little time tomorrow. You want to just do surgery tomorrow?” “Yes!” I said. “That would be awesome.” And just like that, we entered a whirlwind of getting ready for a surgery to happen in less than 15 hours. Christy and I were so glad that these folks were taking Jack as seriously as we were, and just like that, he was back in surgery yesterday morning. Turns out Jack was even more sick than the doctor first assumed. It was a bit of an emergency and a good thing they did what they did when they did it.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">The thing that was interesting to me about this whole situation was how surprised everyone in our lives was to find out Jack was having surgery or was even sick. As far as they knew, and whenever they saw him, he seemed fine. Was he really so sick he needed surgery? Was he really so sick he needed immediate surgical attention? The more I think about that, it strikes me that lots of people are like Jack. They fill their lives up with distractions so that no one really knows the state of emergency that’s going on inside. They look fine on the outside and if you ask them how they’re doing, they’ll say they’re great, but oftentimes the truth is that they need to drop everything and put a fire out... or keep a fire burning.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">This morning I was reading Romans 12 where Paul leads off by pleading with these folks to give themselves completely to God. He tells them that they are to be the ‘whole burnt offering’ of the old sacrificial system, completely consumed for the Lord. Paul says that when you look at what God has done for us, it only makes sense to offer yourself completely in this way. Then he spends the rest of the chapter showing what that looks like in real life. In verse 11 he says, </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">“Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord.”</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "> When I read that verse, it made me think of the original ‘whole burnt offering’ sacrifice of the Old Testament, way back in Leviticus chapter 6. Check this out:</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">The LORD said to Moses: “Give Aaron and his sons this command: ‘These are the regulations for the burnt offering: The burnt offering is to remain on the altar hearth throughout the night, till morning, and the fire must be kept burning on the altar... The fire on the altar must be kept burning; it must not go out. Every morning the priest is to add firewood and arrange the burnt offering on the fire and burn the fat of the fellowship offerings on it. The fire must be kept burning on the altar continuously; it must not go out.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">How’s your fire doing? There’s nothing more important than keeping it burning. If it’s flagging or dying out, there is nothing more important than tending to it! I bet a lot of people are spiritually dry a lot of the time and never tell anyone. It’s like being sick! It’s like needing surgery! It’s urgent, and if it’s you, tell someone! Get someone you love to pray for you. Don’t let the fire go out! It’s a big deal that all of us do whatever it takes to keep our love for Jesus burning. If you need encouragement or if you’re low on fuel for the fire, don’t go it alone! Don’t pretend you’re okay when you need emergency attention. Drop everything and find someone who will drop everything with you. There’s nothing more important than keeping that fire ablaze.</span></div></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-53114700625339919902010-10-28T10:14:00.000-07:002010-10-28T10:16:54.069-07:00<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">It's Fall Break around here, so we took a little family hike at Frozen Head State Park:</span></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwDu2yvJ_Z6MjHim5w9ZZMKM-KYpJnxlfUthLEK-nBOF7u8X3yXq1NZLsHiAG7GQEDShde2LfZxEaLNyQgio3yE05-SWxKNXyJZE36epp66SuiSg3GJXwos9lI4fjWIVS1dcBJw/s1600/photo-5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwDu2yvJ_Z6MjHim5w9ZZMKM-KYpJnxlfUthLEK-nBOF7u8X3yXq1NZLsHiAG7GQEDShde2LfZxEaLNyQgio3yE05-SWxKNXyJZE36epp66SuiSg3GJXwos9lI4fjWIVS1dcBJw/s400/photo-5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533146703278938530" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP594EQG_9dSSJ4rVtp_f5UTSE3CUyEPDXl60n3zSsPKhb-w85wEclcS7Kx63nrOhfppDrtwMYxLbpPcuvTJVX8xpqtQ7NExp4lrcrFMzzNoojuqpRNtIZzcltShJo96s9uL_A-A/s1600/photo-4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP594EQG_9dSSJ4rVtp_f5UTSE3CUyEPDXl60n3zSsPKhb-w85wEclcS7Kx63nrOhfppDrtwMYxLbpPcuvTJVX8xpqtQ7NExp4lrcrFMzzNoojuqpRNtIZzcltShJo96s9uL_A-A/s400/photo-4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533146696197786226" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOCQRaUfpkr5kt-lNsVpb5LU63GkjP4V6nHgBgGisukOE_a9ujEdxTuOVXxyQdWtXLnsw4oPcwPIeo2gegSsmjrK6eQxm8JFW9uecYAv5d1cASldphUwILsVbP4iXeNKJMkERSXQ/s1600/photo-3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 305px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOCQRaUfpkr5kt-lNsVpb5LU63GkjP4V6nHgBgGisukOE_a9ujEdxTuOVXxyQdWtXLnsw4oPcwPIeo2gegSsmjrK6eQxm8JFW9uecYAv5d1cASldphUwILsVbP4iXeNKJMkERSXQ/s400/photo-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533146684834942338" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7i5sEcf_9YEbaHDsKuDXH9zqNRE0sHgxU4JLTi5CsRMpjmnGkaBlMb9qb3tZnSAG_QqD9PKw-GbRxL2wDdib3Pnt_mUSL41ssVgyZW_q1BOY3pGmjqlvhRS-8e7luec5fcK3HMA/s1600/photo-2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7i5sEcf_9YEbaHDsKuDXH9zqNRE0sHgxU4JLTi5CsRMpjmnGkaBlMb9qb3tZnSAG_QqD9PKw-GbRxL2wDdib3Pnt_mUSL41ssVgyZW_q1BOY3pGmjqlvhRS-8e7luec5fcK3HMA/s400/photo-2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533146678352022210" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span id="internal-source-marker_0.6689350502565503" style="font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Reflexes</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I feel like I’ve been punched in the face. No wait, the face isn’t exactly right. I feel like I’ve been kicked in the bank account. I was in Wal-Mart the other day and saw Christmas stuff. Seriously. Wrapping paper, garland and cheap, plastic, robotic snowmen that dance along to “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” were adorning the aisles of the lawn and garden center. Christmas!? How in the world am I going to afford Christmas presents?! It feels like we just finished buying 700 birthday presents last month and Jack is going back to the doctor this afternoon where they will probably prescribe his second $200 antibiotic ear drop in as many weeks. As soon as a little spot of cold weather hit last week, our trusty mini van started making some strange sounds and it looks like replacing the tile in our bathroom is going to be a must. Today I took Norah to her first dentist appointment only to have the dentist smile and say, “Well, you better start saving up for braces, ‘cause they’re in your future!” Future?! What future?! AHHHH!!!</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Now, we all have money problems, (unless of course Kanye is reading this, in which case, do you have a tile saw I can borrow?) and we’re all going to keep having those problems. The Scripture promises troubles and problems and says that the first thing we’re supposed to do in the case of hard times is to “count it all joy.” I know this. I knew it when I woke up this morning and immediately felt my mind wandering down the all too familiar and enticing pathway to worry and fear; but I didn’t quite know how to count it all joy. All I could think of was the wall of problems surrounding me and a host of impossible solutions that flitted in and out of my mind; each scheme more ridiculous than the last and all of them about as solid as a puff of smoke. There I was frantically trying to invent ways out of my various troubles, and instead of counting them all joy, I just simply counted them.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Then I read Psalm 44. Have you read it in a while? It is awesome! Check this out:</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">“It was not by their sword that they won the land, nor did their arm bring them victory; it was your right hand, your arm, and the light of your face, for you loved them. You are my King and my God, who decrees victories for Jacob. Through you we push back our enemies; through your name we trample our foes. I do not trust in my bow, my sword does not bring me victory; but you give us victory over our enemies, you put our adversaries to shame. In God we make our boast all day long, and we will praise your name forever.”</span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; "></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br /></i></span></span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Can you believe that?! My reflex in the midst of a problem is to fling myself onto my mental rolodex of possible solutions! It is in a moment of crisis that my mind works the hardest. My wheels crank and my blood pressure rises. Is this me at my best? No way! It may even be me at my worst! My brilliant ideas and solutions are like the swords and bows of the Israelites. They may seem effective and sometimes even impressive, but God is the One who solves problems and wins battles. When a problem arises, instead of flying into a fever pitch of brainstorming a way out, I just need to stop. I need to stop where I am and say, “I don’t trust in my own wisdom. I don’t know the way out of this. I can’t solve this problem, but Lord, You know what to do. In You, oh God I will make my boast.” I need to reprogram my reflexes. I don’t need better ideas or perfect solutions or even more money; I just need God. I need Him in order to make it.</span></div></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-18468921661502760692010-10-21T08:11:00.000-07:002010-10-21T08:13:45.348-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM59WllR2V1Kc5mhSgUDg02I-W9C0i1WBUE5cbvaV5QwxANzdq1GRF5AeF6fFIvkoibAj-O_9q5v1e-b111emstFwu1cm2gZSGm8b5hl9rLHGHwRCBh0QolZE1_I06OLeEKyBSZw/s1600/IMG_0087.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM59WllR2V1Kc5mhSgUDg02I-W9C0i1WBUE5cbvaV5QwxANzdq1GRF5AeF6fFIvkoibAj-O_9q5v1e-b111emstFwu1cm2gZSGm8b5hl9rLHGHwRCBh0QolZE1_I06OLeEKyBSZw/s400/IMG_0087.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530517466704383826" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">This week we took high school folks to Cades Cove:</span></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeqHeZ6m5DbkPzCDdE_Iwnn521kevjzRmP_MbOLwbQ5NbbbBggDXABMtQVE3Z-pGm0vGkMydUfuvPXdXXIUD5-vQOZkPbnfc0e7_7W0tHWMIU-9qDVeycmYeqdotFNF_l6XBpLdw/s1600/IMG_0080.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeqHeZ6m5DbkPzCDdE_Iwnn521kevjzRmP_MbOLwbQ5NbbbBggDXABMtQVE3Z-pGm0vGkMydUfuvPXdXXIUD5-vQOZkPbnfc0e7_7W0tHWMIU-9qDVeycmYeqdotFNF_l6XBpLdw/s400/IMG_0080.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530517460805508066" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">And Jack turned 2!! (Check out his new axe)</span></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAN3Hyj_BBCDITL1umrkYv3ehFSv_5jjB_5xvhWP3IW6OfWb5CJeNxCvDJq4S7DYltLxhM0DH8uoqJ9w65e3qkxgHIJgKfxCSZTzNbhz0xFwBbdw9iddjloyfWR0JGj5voBYJmjA/s1600/IMG_0073.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAN3Hyj_BBCDITL1umrkYv3ehFSv_5jjB_5xvhWP3IW6OfWb5CJeNxCvDJq4S7DYltLxhM0DH8uoqJ9w65e3qkxgHIJgKfxCSZTzNbhz0xFwBbdw9iddjloyfWR0JGj5voBYJmjA/s400/IMG_0073.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530517454196425746" /></a><br /></div><div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Gift Wrap</span></span></span></b></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">“Go ahead, Jack, open it!” </span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">“Come on dude, just rip into it!”</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">“Tear it, Jack. You can do it!”</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">These were the words of encouragement everyone was giving Jack as he looked at his birthday present with a blank face last week. He just sort of sat there, not opening it. It was surprising to say the least because normally, when a kid sees their birthday present, it only exists in that nice, neat, wrapped-up form for a few nano seconds before an explosion of ribbon and a tsunami of tissue paper break forth on the room of expectant gift givers frantically clicking snapshots of the ensuing delight. This little family birthday bash was as quiet as a police stake-out and included the same type of tense waiting. Jack just didn’t open his present. He didn’t know what to do.</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Then it occurred to Christy that this was only his second birthday after all, and he hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to receive wrapped gifts. As a result, he hadn’t really learned that there are acceptable times to rip, tear and slash paper with all the ferocity of a horde of pillaging Vikings. You see, normally, if Jack ripped up some paper, he found himself in trouble, because (as he was rapidly learning) you can’t tear pages of library books, your sister’s newest piece of artwork or the third chapter of Deuteronomy. And now we were all huddled around him, encouraging to tear some paper off of this large, rectangular box. I’m sure Jack was thinking to himself, “No way, folks! I’m not about to tear this paper. I’m not sure why you’re all trying to trick me, but it doesn’t end well for me when I do this!”</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">When we finally tore back enough of the paper for Jack to see that there was a shiny new guitar inside the box, he forgot his reservations and finished off the rest of the wrapping to claim his gift, but it took a while. His hesitation to tear into his present was really cute, but I’m sure that one day soon, when he’s received enough gifts, he’ll figure out that wrapping paper equals presents, and that he can tear all he wants in that case. Once that day comes, opening the gifts probably won’t be that big of a deal anymore. The excitement fades with familiarity. I think this happens to everyone. We receive so much that many of us have forgotten the joy and excitement of opening the gift.</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">James chapter 1 says, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created.”</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> Your life is a gift. Your spiritual life and your physical life were given to you freely by God. Every morning, when you open your eyes, you’re pulling back the wrapping paper of a gift God has given you. He didn’t have to give you another day. If you woke up today and knew your name, you received a present from God Almighty. Did you happen to say, “Thanks?” </span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I truly believe that one of the biggest problems people have is that they have forgotten to say thanks. We get out of bed, day after day, go to the bathroom, eat our breakfast, head out to the office or to school and just start living our whole day as if we were powering ourselves through this world on our own steam. Most people’s problem is that they forget that they have breath in their lungs because there is a God in heaven who is merciful and gives gifts. I sincerely believe that if you started everyday by stopping, your life would change from top to bottom. Give it a try sometime... maybe even right now. Relish the feeling of unwrapping God’s gift to you. Stop what you’re doing, close your eyes and say to Him, “Thank you. Thank you for another day. You didn’t have to give me this gift, but you did because you love me. Thank you.”</span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-84825736795609382332010-10-14T09:11:00.000-07:002010-10-14T09:16:09.722-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8SGojJmvuGFgOb-KOORnFmWuFWfkVRxECmW5SWHXzwWHs2UzlGqVoSOAo40G59HXtKqi1kN_u3Q86VwEdysVGbHdiNaj3p0QJg9WcV1MItHzOlRLyLlzD6K8Ltsvf8SlmlBXqA/s1600/IMG_0069.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 332px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8SGojJmvuGFgOb-KOORnFmWuFWfkVRxECmW5SWHXzwWHs2UzlGqVoSOAo40G59HXtKqi1kN_u3Q86VwEdysVGbHdiNaj3p0QJg9WcV1MItHzOlRLyLlzD6K8Ltsvf8SlmlBXqA/s400/IMG_0069.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527935345545494258" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHepCr9M3uPdgITwaucwy-8Ynj-X-1bDDw4ObZ99BSSRQR5PvouyTBMgkxTcWBiOqfiqgyopy_igTn4lp0pohPyhIXL7M_ddUlP8zUcFNFm1dh1nrkrLOTZ405tDGnrEKqEHQkDQ/s1600/IMG_0068.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 340px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHepCr9M3uPdgITwaucwy-8Ynj-X-1bDDw4ObZ99BSSRQR5PvouyTBMgkxTcWBiOqfiqgyopy_igTn4lp0pohPyhIXL7M_ddUlP8zUcFNFm1dh1nrkrLOTZ405tDGnrEKqEHQkDQ/s400/IMG_0068.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527935341351957154" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Last week I got to play music at Young Life's Windy Gap!! </span></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFK-fonj2aPAJoFDuiGsEv0kmN9sBpHzBOvw8X5WSHFoj8pDEEd_elSyarhCy_IFsLGRsbQprd3iLFCdAxNvh965fe5STI0yLA5muDLwiSZZlnzeLZWOeEA3UZ5R88sfzlaa3SA/s1600/IMG_0066.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFK-fonj2aPAJoFDuiGsEv0kmN9sBpHzBOvw8X5WSHFoj8pDEEd_elSyarhCy_IFsLGRsbQprd3iLFCdAxNvh965fe5STI0yLA5muDLwiSZZlnzeLZWOeEA3UZ5R88sfzlaa3SA/s400/IMG_0066.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527935334359113554" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">And Anna turned 7!! Check out her present: two parakeets!</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1oMolGk9m12ajiamEesuqldiUVmKHD-QbtXGp3D1cEcXvTbW9jlVyFj27jZs8ZZVm77ifBCHY_oYkWnIIAXzD7uR-fd0wr2yBSVccpZ80WN8QGvPQFxkSsJzm81EkymyMHVboPw/s1600/IMG_0064.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 398px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1oMolGk9m12ajiamEesuqldiUVmKHD-QbtXGp3D1cEcXvTbW9jlVyFj27jZs8ZZVm77ifBCHY_oYkWnIIAXzD7uR-fd0wr2yBSVccpZ80WN8QGvPQFxkSsJzm81EkymyMHVboPw/s400/IMG_0064.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527935325920915154" /></a><br /></div><div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Keira and Ashley</span></span></span></b></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Our daughter is obsessed with animals. I guess that all little kids like animals to some degree and I’m sure that for kids under the age of 10, one of the most popular future occupations has got to be Veterinarian, but Anna could be the ring leader of this popular fascination. For years she has pined for a pet. She would harass me for a dog every single day and all day long if I had not already convinced her of the utter uselessness of repetition on that score. She knows very well that I refuse to even discuss the matter of bringing a dog into my home until everyone in said home is well out of diapers and pull-ups. I am not going to be personally responsible for dealing with the fecal matter of two kinds of mammal. In return, Anna has assured me that she loves me very much, and loves living at home, but is looking forward to the day when she has her own place just so she can buy a puppy, first thing. </span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Anna dreams about pets. She talks about pets. She ties string around the inanimate necks of her stuffed animals and drags them around the house. She imagines her younger siblings to be pretend animals and somehow even becomes her own imaginary pet! She comes home from school, binds leaves of paper together into books that she writes and illustrates about her going to the pet store and picking out some animal for her very own. Wow. Intense, right? Yeah... well, a few weeks ago, Christy diagnosed this very singular condition right before we were about to go to bed when she very solemnly said to me, “Babe, our little girl is pet-deprived.” </span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Pet-deprived?! Is that like being asthmatic or having an immune deficiency? Do we need to call someone? No... turns out we were starting a conversation about Anna’s birthday. And look, before you jump to any conclusions, no! We did not get a dog or a cat or anything like that. Jack is still firmly kicking it in diapers and I am still stalwart in my ‘no dog till that day’ thing. We decided to get Anna some birds. Two birds to be exact: a couple of parakeets. We got a cage, some food, a perch or two, the whole nine yards. On Anna’s birthday, the family were all sitting around as I brought out the cage covered in a sheet. Anna had no idea what it was. When she uncovered it, she stared blankly at the birds for a moment and then a smile broke across her face as she exclaimed, “A Pet! I got a pet! I got a pet!” I said, “You’ve got </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">two</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> pets.” and she returned, “I got TWO pets!” Christy said, “Anna, you get to name them and they’re both girls.” And then, without waiting, deliberating or even thinking, Anna busted out, “The white one is named Keira and the yellow one is Ashley.”</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Whoa! My head was spinning... I thought this naming process would take some time and maybe even some editing, but no. She busted those names out as if she had been waiting on this day her whole life. That little heart of hers was so filled with love for animals and so ecstatic to find that she finally had some animals to love, that the names Keira and Ashley just burst right out of her heart and landed gently on those feathery little heads.</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This week I have been reading and re-reading John chapter 10 where Jesus calls Himself the “Good Shepherd.” I noticed something the other day that I’ve never really seen before. Jesus says, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“The man who enters by the gate is the shepherd of his sheep. The watchman opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice.” </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I love how it says that He calls His own by name. He owns His sheep. They’re His, and He knows their names because He probably named them. There’s someone who knows you and made you the way you are because He absolutely loves you. He loves who you are. His overjoyed heart loves to have you as His and He delights in being followed by His own! His favorite day was probably the day you became His!</span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman'"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-52583453042763377492010-10-07T07:18:00.000-07:002010-10-07T12:49:08.637-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">It was a BIG week around here...<br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX0XaDc35Sg7nEnIPfGRphMVX4ILakBbgg744vtqUlJEfdIvLbnpyvXcxLZBMS-CRlbUYA_VdoR0S87qqCpR9Yp2Uta4oOTp533gx29pIkfhy52JuCr1INV3__bLYvI9zKKBJByA/s1600/photo-9.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX0XaDc35Sg7nEnIPfGRphMVX4ILakBbgg744vtqUlJEfdIvLbnpyvXcxLZBMS-CRlbUYA_VdoR0S87qqCpR9Yp2Uta4oOTp533gx29pIkfhy52JuCr1INV3__bLYvI9zKKBJByA/s400/photo-9.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525308545096101538" /></a><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">We traveled to Chicago to see our dear friends Jed and Hallie tie the knot!<br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWnpu0jU_ogCBxGEnhlMdF8wXiLNsDilR4gS5rsIe8IUtkiirUISSTYY0hyCqFYNQm49RPX0RA6tC3n5kxo283oAOQcpi5ua2aJFpUGY_SLdIVZciuwidn_TMvwYnPOKlUcWX-UA/s1600/photo-6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWnpu0jU_ogCBxGEnhlMdF8wXiLNsDilR4gS5rsIe8IUtkiirUISSTYY0hyCqFYNQm49RPX0RA6tC3n5kxo283oAOQcpi5ua2aJFpUGY_SLdIVZciuwidn_TMvwYnPOKlUcWX-UA/s400/photo-6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525308534772109826" /></a><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">We had a visit from Dylan, Penny and Sarah from Texas!<br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi03lsNU_9mdslINS5iofJJzzZTWJiBElbnZ17uLPIawsag4vElbw5Q16PeeaFSh_pxHTMVmq3Ka6LcSu3WsUuyCS2rxCSct0Qc3TyaKP7GjI0LUeaVqyNt21b73w_dO1rPhb5v0w/s1600/photo-7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 356px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi03lsNU_9mdslINS5iofJJzzZTWJiBElbnZ17uLPIawsag4vElbw5Q16PeeaFSh_pxHTMVmq3Ka6LcSu3WsUuyCS2rxCSct0Qc3TyaKP7GjI0LUeaVqyNt21b73w_dO1rPhb5v0w/s400/photo-7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525308530910834114" /></a><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">And received the first shipment of my new CD! (which you can listen to or buy if you visit my website by clicking right <a href="http://www.leeyounger.com/">HERE</a> ...Go for it!)</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKU6aAh59lQLD9lLSLI3N8RWKWPNY5RDnRkD_9vVDEyxDU7lt0HA8xKKb8DLP_w19bVrW3Jlk6CqndcdRhI0PuixGVf2kOzfpBypRjKrPypTO_G9LiUNCyOFLqTXrfZ46aA2Fhw/s1600/photo-8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 381px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKU6aAh59lQLD9lLSLI3N8RWKWPNY5RDnRkD_9vVDEyxDU7lt0HA8xKKb8DLP_w19bVrW3Jlk6CqndcdRhI0PuixGVf2kOzfpBypRjKrPypTO_G9LiUNCyOFLqTXrfZ46aA2Fhw/s400/photo-8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525308523932428226" /></a><br /><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background- font-family:Times;font-size:medium;color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size: -webkit-xxx-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;color:#FF9900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Times; white-space: normal; font-size: medium; "><span id="internal-source-marker_0.7371508490759879" style="font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">It’s About Time</span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I’ve been waiting for this day. Actually, I’ve been praying for this day. In fact, I was just telling a couple of my friends at breakfast this morning about how I’ve been praying for this day. So, what happened to day that was an answer to prayer? Well, it’s going to sound weird when you first hear it, but here goes: Today, Anna got in trouble at school...</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Let me give you a little back story. You see, Anna is a great kid. Now, I know everyone thinks their kid is great and all, but I’m telling you, Anna is the kind of kid that teachers </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">love </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "> to have in their classes. She loves school. She loves teachers. She loves to please people and loves to have the good opinion of authority figures. She loves rules and she loves to keep them. She’s in first grade right now and so far has never gotten in trouble in school... at all. In her classroom, everyone has a traffic light and when you get in trouble, you have to change your light. Each light change represents a different disciplinary consequence. A week or so ago, Anna was telling me a story about a boy in her lass who had to change his light twice that day and how much trouble he was in. I asked Anna if she had to change her light and she flipped out. “Dad!” she said, “I have never had to change my light, ever!” </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">On the one hand, it’s great that she’s such a fine student and good little citizen in her classroom, but on the other hand, Christy and I don’t want her to feel like she has to be perfect. Anna is the kind of kid that is devastated if she gets in trouble or has to be corrected. She’s harder on herself than anyone else is, and that is exactly why I’ve been praying for this day. I want Anna to mess up. I want her to fall short and get in trouble so that she learns from her mom and dad that it’s okay and that she’s still loved. In other words, I have been longing for an opportunity to really show her grace on her own terms.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">The call came while I was at lunch. Wednesday is my day to pick up Anna from school and Christy called to let me know what I was in for... Anna’s teacher had called the house today because Anna didn’t follow directions and had to change her light. Actually, that’s not why her teacher called. It’s not the practice of first grade teachers to call home after one little light change, but poor Anna was so emotionally devastated by this occurrence that Christy received a call. I was so excited! Anna changed her light! I jumped in my car and drove to the school. There she was in the car line waiting to be picked up with a fragile, pensive look on her face. The door opened, she got in and with a trembling voice uttered, “Dad, today I had to change my light.” A couple of tears eased their way out before she saw my face beaming at her with the biggest, warmest smile I could muster. As jovially as I could, I said, “Anna! I love you!”</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Why would I pray for my child to get in trouble? Why would I hope for her to get busted for doing wrong? Because! There’s nothing in this world better for a human heart than a self-awareness of the necessity of grace! Finding out that we’re weak, broken, imperfect and needy is the beginning of all our eternal happiness! Paul says in Romans 3 that this is the very reason God gave us the Ten Commandments... to close every bragging mouth before God and show everyone they need Him! He says in Romans chapter 11 that, </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">“God has bound all men over to disobedience so that he may have mercy on them all.”</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "> Isn’t that amazing? God is going to make sure we know we need Him. It’s good to find out you need mercy and grace, because mercy and grace are abundant in Christ! </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">After Anna buckled up her seat belt, I asked her if I could hold her hand, and she said I could. Within a couple of minutes, the tears were gone and she was laughing and telling me about her day, squeezing my hand all the way home.</span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Times; white-space: normal; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Times; white-space: normal; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Times; white-space: normal; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div></span></span></span></span></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-68072341961361189812010-09-30T10:13:00.000-07:002010-09-30T10:15:25.581-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2M-2rRkw0TBX4OIqJqK1CIf9Pwm49en7kze_CTDElmwurUuT1qAGdQXJhNPQKUrOyMVx_6gSdbp_6Q18rCqiwTg_gE3kU3h3xLZDm_lVVVyRHy8O7YFcaVnMgiZ7oddMKJ-iXyg/s1600/IMG_0038.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 368px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2M-2rRkw0TBX4OIqJqK1CIf9Pwm49en7kze_CTDElmwurUuT1qAGdQXJhNPQKUrOyMVx_6gSdbp_6Q18rCqiwTg_gE3kU3h3xLZDm_lVVVyRHy8O7YFcaVnMgiZ7oddMKJ-iXyg/s400/IMG_0038.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522756300966126178" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEeesvax82KL_toXTkfuj3sy-m_jx7yNZ2PcpQbvWmUDS2opCPMDAchpIONHO-1-TEW0uuhKYTXD79jFyuedsBRtTjjpIYFSS90pgeJqgdzMLAcxajif0JE2pFtO9VF4vIDrvjw/s1600/IMG_0040.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEeesvax82KL_toXTkfuj3sy-m_jx7yNZ2PcpQbvWmUDS2opCPMDAchpIONHO-1-TEW0uuhKYTXD79jFyuedsBRtTjjpIYFSS90pgeJqgdzMLAcxajif0JE2pFtO9VF4vIDrvjw/s400/IMG_0040.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522756298733608818" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Bv6rIJL_aNvd8avErGejMGhubmvKrWV2nrqgCp8PIg1oflDniwM8vm_Pm6cPFkL95Lz_xvlBNcbURDoO5L91kcD-YObz_v35pmpr8q1omAV8LYRhETZmqMWEvIiYDegNyc5i-w/s1600/IMG_0041.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Bv6rIJL_aNvd8avErGejMGhubmvKrWV2nrqgCp8PIg1oflDniwM8vm_Pm6cPFkL95Lz_xvlBNcbURDoO5L91kcD-YObz_v35pmpr8q1omAV8LYRhETZmqMWEvIiYDegNyc5i-w/s400/IMG_0041.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522756284504597826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhktSf1GFOvRRh6Xvxt_dC0e5yDokQMwA_hOz9xcPq12FKdx6cPQRkpRLmUm31ChuIXBINPGgiuMyOXG989f0WWx6Kw3-5oOlCjXn-jM9neOzeApAToUBmhYFQq1pzq3b5qYl3WaA/s1600/IMG_0042.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 305px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhktSf1GFOvRRh6Xvxt_dC0e5yDokQMwA_hOz9xcPq12FKdx6cPQRkpRLmUm31ChuIXBINPGgiuMyOXG989f0WWx6Kw3-5oOlCjXn-jM9neOzeApAToUBmhYFQq1pzq3b5qYl3WaA/s400/IMG_0042.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522756280970614354" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span id="internal-source-marker_0.5357701911125332" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Something To Say</span></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /></span></b></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">You know that feeling when you think something is going to be the worst thing of all time and it actually winds up being pretty great? Well, a few weeks ago we had to take Anna to the dentist to get a tooth pulled. One of her two front permanent teeth was coming in too far back and wasn’t putting any pressure on the two little baby teeth in front that needed to fall out, so they weren’t getting loose. We took her to the dentist so he could have a look and he encouraged her to keep working on making the two baby teeth loose for another month or so. If they didn’t come out, he very quietly told me he’d have to pull them. Every day we told Anna to work on those teeth, but no real change came. Finally I told Anna the news I knew she wouldn’t want to hear... if she didn’t get them out, the dentist would have to pull them. Anna’s eyes instantaneously filled with tears and she ran into the bathroom crying. A few minutes later she emerged having yanked one of the two offending teeth out of her head with so much force, she actually broke it. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Thing was, that main front baby tooth wouldn’t budge, and we had to have it pulled. Anna was devastated and freaked out, but in the end, it was awesome! The dentist was amazing and gentle and Anna was glad to be free of those teeth. In the same vein, last week I was reading the book of Isaiah and came across something that had me spiralling down into a state of instantaneous freak out. In chapter 43, the Lord says, </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">“Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth- everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.”</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Created for His glory?! Do you realize what this means? I t means I have been a total failure! Glory just means that you really and truly represent something... You fully express who or what that thing is. If God created me for His glory, I was supposed to be saying all kinds of stuff about Him! In fact, every single person ever made was supposed to express some individual and beautiful thing about who God is. We were all supposed to have something to say about the One who made us, but... no one really has! I mean, every now and then you see glimpses of something about Him: leadership in Lincoln, courage in Churchill, humor in Twain, tenderness and love in that person most dear to you, but for the most part, we haven’t said what we should have. As the Apostle Paul said, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Which means that as a race, we have failed and have nothing to say, right?</span><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Actually, no... in spite of our failure, really because of our failure, we have something beautiful to say. We have a new and precious something to say that glorifies out God more than anything we could have said without having failed. So what is it? Well, in Luke 7 Jesus was having dinner at the home of a Pharisee named Simon when all of a sudden a woman walked in uninvited. She was a big-time sinner and everyone knew it. But she had found the forgiveness of Jesus and no one was going to stop her from showing it. She went up behind Jesus weeping uncontrollably so that her tears fell on his feet. She poured out her most treasured gift, a jar of expensive perfume, onto His feet and it mingled with her tears. She wiped his feet with her hair and though the Pharisees were scandalized, Jesus loved every second of it. Gratitude. Love. The glory of God. Even though we failed to be who we were made to be, Jesus came and offered Himself for our forgiveness. Now we have something to say: gratitude overflowing from a saved and thankful heart of love for Jesus is glorious indeed!</span></div></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-29182886984443642922010-09-23T10:02:00.000-07:002010-09-24T01:58:09.303-07:00<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Here are some old pictures of Anna and Norah for those of you who appreciate nostalgia:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiwBO_7WmKzdecDUUKfpc5ta0sHdn7U-5D4QSHI2Ndd92J6jZReJjQ9SErmU05xVx72MlhsqsZOmMJ1afyyWiWZvW5na9XOQb1Au8e83cNj85bzvFTThKfYeJiPsfyVWKMX8ivLg/s1600/Towel2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 364px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiwBO_7WmKzdecDUUKfpc5ta0sHdn7U-5D4QSHI2Ndd92J6jZReJjQ9SErmU05xVx72MlhsqsZOmMJ1afyyWiWZvW5na9XOQb1Au8e83cNj85bzvFTThKfYeJiPsfyVWKMX8ivLg/s400/Towel2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520155899254928994" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiuvWBrL9Ppo35AkLvMMhdQpGYXQhFmvBIkJ3h_3plemRi9dsohGCw8IWC4an_CtPpMx0aoa0u2JXTyIANnQBmx082EoXOCpgcs2o96SyT2DH9jVRemA8G35xrioDgZ5Oyi38C5Q/s1600/july+2005+027.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiuvWBrL9Ppo35AkLvMMhdQpGYXQhFmvBIkJ3h_3plemRi9dsohGCw8IWC4an_CtPpMx0aoa0u2JXTyIANnQBmx082EoXOCpgcs2o96SyT2DH9jVRemA8G35xrioDgZ5Oyi38C5Q/s400/july+2005+027.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520155892640125730" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK1veyv5aUvhwMeU2BEDgVr8dC5H46K4juUCLWFcrkftqG2_ZlIQnpZzyHJo1H0slumYTNWTXHUAAqoVB0Lyts-6JpsvlDYAHtgPIw6-rWOHKiAZj2AwjW7suE4G7_yjO7wc48qw/s1600/baking.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK1veyv5aUvhwMeU2BEDgVr8dC5H46K4juUCLWFcrkftqG2_ZlIQnpZzyHJo1H0slumYTNWTXHUAAqoVB0Lyts-6JpsvlDYAHtgPIw6-rWOHKiAZj2AwjW7suE4G7_yjO7wc48qw/s400/baking.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520155886281739858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwz-FgFi7wCcis1rnRdpWVcFohaU5TYYI1tajI55kFeQwajtSRoGXqOTzl4rRQrQsBGcNM4UOZhUrterC6oLQr2IqrFe6OMwmTusQ59JyqfsqggAWM0jafSHPXNF8xZJWBEI7Kyg/s1600/bath+time.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwz-FgFi7wCcis1rnRdpWVcFohaU5TYYI1tajI55kFeQwajtSRoGXqOTzl4rRQrQsBGcNM4UOZhUrterC6oLQr2IqrFe6OMwmTusQ59JyqfsqggAWM0jafSHPXNF8xZJWBEI7Kyg/s400/bath+time.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520155882466763762" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZt6F-HHYw5VqQHP9hB55vqGw2a_zUOtJ8ACHpRFzRvJo0ITamUqr4FFBroJI1g9Z_VXlnESqSsgE0yCsyYvf3aCv8cObHWv7b3c9mA0gox9fJjJvpX_jNmnCkQ1uCp6hB3j8n1A/s1600/IMG_3548.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZt6F-HHYw5VqQHP9hB55vqGw2a_zUOtJ8ACHpRFzRvJo0ITamUqr4FFBroJI1g9Z_VXlnESqSsgE0yCsyYvf3aCv8cObHWv7b3c9mA0gox9fJjJvpX_jNmnCkQ1uCp6hB3j8n1A/s400/IMG_3548.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520155871791546482" /></a><br /><div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span id="internal-source-marker_0.48211751598864794" style="font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Unless There is a King</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Disclaimer: I fully intend this to be my last post involving The Lord of The Rings for quite a while. I know it’s been a little excessive lately, but humor me just this one more time...</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I just finished reading an article saying that the Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee held hearings today to determine just how bad the threat of a terrorist attack on the U.S. actually is. At the end of the hearing they basically decided that we’re hosed. The reporter I read suggested spending the weekend hiding under a couch. Janet Napolitano said, “The threats come from a broader array of groups and regions. It comes from a wider variety of harder-to-detect tactics. And it is aimed at harder-to-secure places than before.” Translation = the world is scarier than ever! How are we supposed to protect ourselves against these threats? How are we supposed to decide who to trust? How are we supposed to sleep at night? If the findings of these committees are right, we live in a dangerous, scary world and should probably be shaking in our boots all the time!</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Well, that is to say, we should be afraid all the time if there is no God.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">On the other hand, if the Bible is true and the Risen Lord Jesus Christ is seated on a throne at the right hand of God Almighty, then we shouldn’t waste one more second being afraid! If the Lord Jesus is the King of everything, we should take all that energy we invest in to fear and reallocate it to loving and reaching those who would seek our harm. If Jesus, who died and was raised on the third day is Alive and in control as the Bible says He is, then we should remember and obey His command in Matthew 10 which says, </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">“Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.”</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Folks who believe in and love Jesus ought to be intensely passionate about loving and reaching the lost, but cool as a cucumber when it comes to the ever-mounting threats propagated by fear mongering news outlets. Jesus told us not to worry about tomorrow, but demographic analysts and experts who study population trends would have us quaking in our homes about what they say will happen in 15 years’ time. They would have us desperately trying to biologically reverse the growing numbers of our so-called enemies by going on some kind of crusade of procreation, but those of us who have and love the Word of God know that we have been </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">“predestined according to the plan of Him who works out everything in conformity to the purpose of His will.”</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "> There is absolutely nothing outside of God’s control and He already knows how this all ends. You see, there is a King over everything and soon, He will reveal Himself to this world.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">At the end of The Lord of The Rings, the beloved Hobbits made it back home to the Shire to find everything changed. All the land had been ravaged. The leadership was overturned by cruel and hateful men. Their entire way of life had been destroyed and every Hobbit was hiding behind their doors, afraid all of the time. That is, until Sam, Frodo, Merry and Pippin returned. They saw the changes and although they were troubled, they were not afraid. In fact, they laughed a little. Why? Because they had been with the King. They knew he was in charge and would be coming soon to make all things right and all things new. When one of the new ‘Ruffians’ tried to scare the Hobbits, Frodo replied, “For one thing, I see you’re behind the times and the news here. Much has happened since you left the South. Your day is over, and all other ruffians’. The Dark Tower has fallen, and there is a King in Gondor... your precious master is a beggar in the wilderness.”</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">The world is indeed a dangerous and scary place, unless there is a King on His throne, and if you know and love Him, you never need fear another moment in your untouchable, eternal life.</span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background- font-family:Times;font-size:medium;color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap; font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#FF9900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><b><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: normal; white-space: normal; font-family:Times;font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></span></span></div></b></span></span></span></span></div></div></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-35163800419201865392010-09-16T10:29:00.000-07:002010-09-16T10:31:57.036-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvNcGMSI6Xrp8sinT_5UCEUu412-8LOpeJkmTXMTC3xQz_YL7le9jfdj8Qm-ceiITrjUiiXKM7yVlc6MpjvhVTPOqkDGrLV5YSfKja0uy8WWSUfzWL_RpUeGAF8__CNoEKVKNTg/s1600/photo+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvNcGMSI6Xrp8sinT_5UCEUu412-8LOpeJkmTXMTC3xQz_YL7le9jfdj8Qm-ceiITrjUiiXKM7yVlc6MpjvhVTPOqkDGrLV5YSfKja0uy8WWSUfzWL_RpUeGAF8__CNoEKVKNTg/s400/photo+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517565310130311186" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlChfm7GsYGyftJAyJZsJjULGPhTQqnvockCJ4nf675uAZd-DLj1ore7rdm83dHZONcN3TSLY6eEo5udyDP7TShmSGH2E8oA3aOF-PgMsLSkqs_m0KP3361po3_bfM4pV4O-mhVw/s1600/photo+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 304px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlChfm7GsYGyftJAyJZsJjULGPhTQqnvockCJ4nf675uAZd-DLj1ore7rdm83dHZONcN3TSLY6eEo5udyDP7TShmSGH2E8oA3aOF-PgMsLSkqs_m0KP3361po3_bfM4pV4O-mhVw/s400/photo+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517565258715169218" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji_ovnTy2HDMyGhm3b3_4YpuR0IQBTeHMREf3UQJPjk4w1L9FTTkQEztg95FfjiTAANrkeEbkh00OeBDK2iav6t8zVCpATfXUjquhp1l1W54Tw1iTnsi3YgZu1W7yGIuAEL5MxMQ/s1600/photo+4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji_ovnTy2HDMyGhm3b3_4YpuR0IQBTeHMREf3UQJPjk4w1L9FTTkQEztg95FfjiTAANrkeEbkh00OeBDK2iav6t8zVCpATfXUjquhp1l1W54Tw1iTnsi3YgZu1W7yGIuAEL5MxMQ/s400/photo+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517565202415804194" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE-Q6I4I2nznWrWu4gUMvT7GmtqWnhm7DiF-QWD659lUS6mdQQnvRbHPhwkgishwZhTgyt5uXdztRTq3be8ZCTNUACpc-769DLIx-Ky5ORotR3IiR-cqPrIVFg_4JMYwheDZUvng/s1600/photo+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 336px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE-Q6I4I2nznWrWu4gUMvT7GmtqWnhm7DiF-QWD659lUS6mdQQnvRbHPhwkgishwZhTgyt5uXdztRTq3be8ZCTNUACpc-769DLIx-Ky5ORotR3IiR-cqPrIVFg_4JMYwheDZUvng/s400/photo+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517565168712334578" /></a><br /><div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span id="internal-source-marker_0.4009786625392735" style="font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">With Great Praise</span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I’ve cried too much today. Now my face feels sore and my eyes sting and I feel simply emotionally tired. The worst part? All those tears were over something that didn’t even really happen!! I’ve spent the last thirty minutes or so sobbing over a couple of hobbits who don’t even exist and now the only thing I feel like doing is writing about them! Yes, I know, The Lord of the Rings is just a book and Frodo and Sam are not real people. I know that Gondor, Ithilien and Orodruin were just inventions of a middle-aged English linguist and that none of the great battles and brave deeds described in those pages really happened, but something I came across in that amazing story shook me to the core today. To borrow Professor Tolkien’s term, it smote my heart.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">You see, I want to turn loose of this world. More and more as I go through the days of my own pilgrimage here, I want to relax my grip on all the earthly things that both pick me up and burden me down. I want to forge a gaze so fixed on the rock solid reality of the world to come that both the present troubles and prizes of this world fade into the ethereal mist that they really are. In other words, I want a homeward heart. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">This afternoon, as I was trudging along with Sam and Frodo at the very end of their quest, something happened in the story (Yes, I know it didn’t </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">really </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">happen) that resonated with my homeward heart.</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "> </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">When it happened, I burst into tears, because it’s the thing above all things that I’m looking forward to. You see, a few years back, my pastor pointed me to a verse in chapter 4 of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians which has become one of my very favorites. Paul says, </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">“Judge nothing before the appointed time; wait till the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of men’s hearts. At that time each will receive His praise from God.”</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Behold the grace of God! He sends His own Son to die in our place, forgives our sin and makes a place for us in His eternal kingdom; but not only that, at the world’s end, the King and God over all, who has forgotten our offenses and crimes will praise those He has bought to the wonder and bliss of our quaking, grateful hearts. Wow. Can you dare to imagine the joy of that moment? It’s something I love to think about and long to believe with all my heart, but sometimes I forget and get burdened down with my own failures and filled with doubt. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">That’s where I was today when Sam and Frodo made it to the very end. The ring was destroyed and the hobbits fell asleep from dreadful pain and weariness on the crumbling slopes of Mount Doom. As they slept, they were carried off by the Great Eagles to the camp of the King. When Sam awoke, he found himself in a bed within a tent, surrounded by the smell of flowers. Gandalf was there and said that he and Frodo must dress and present themselves to the King, so they put on their old ripped and torn rags and left the tent. When they did, they saw knights in shining mail, bowing down to the hobbits, then drawing swords and shaking spears, blowing horns and trumpets and proclaiming with loud voices, “Praise them with great praise! Frodo and Samwise!” Then Aragorn, the King placed them on his throne, bowed down to them and shouted out, “Praise them with great praise!” Finally, a minstrel of Gondor sang a song of their long toil and... </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">“When Sam heard that, he laughed aloud for sheer delight, and he stood up and cried: ‘O great glory and splendour! And all my wishes have come true!’ And then he wept. And all the host laughed and wept, and in the midst of their merriment and tears, the clear voice of the minstrel rose like silver and gold, and all the men were hushed. And he sang to them until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.”</span></div></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-83322537150324775832010-09-09T07:29:00.000-07:002010-09-09T07:31:11.119-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1nBk1qjm36iQswBL7PdWjUZcO0C1W0epS8-8gEHCBZyz1FSff7Otg9rZ91-1s7JAizIi-WPL63Y-TGb7k8PpnxCP_rvESn08jbMV8i1w2VD0ltM_a4N6yvZm9ut_ND1kXvlSzdg/s1600/photo-3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 385px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1nBk1qjm36iQswBL7PdWjUZcO0C1W0epS8-8gEHCBZyz1FSff7Otg9rZ91-1s7JAizIi-WPL63Y-TGb7k8PpnxCP_rvESn08jbMV8i1w2VD0ltM_a4N6yvZm9ut_ND1kXvlSzdg/s400/photo-3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514921042128430098" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilGQS_pl0mJEZ3k4Tyrork7LA71Jb8Kabw_uy90BqcTqg4LT6629TkGFBv5TIEZgpsf1E1STK86D1zlyBgMQ3hlmLB-w02OqyexU9DdhZj3G-9yRjoOxl14U2DrYbdwXb8SG3xUQ/s1600/photo-4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 345px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilGQS_pl0mJEZ3k4Tyrork7LA71Jb8Kabw_uy90BqcTqg4LT6629TkGFBv5TIEZgpsf1E1STK86D1zlyBgMQ3hlmLB-w02OqyexU9DdhZj3G-9yRjoOxl14U2DrYbdwXb8SG3xUQ/s400/photo-4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514921036311701698" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9al6PiAN0mp_xPdc3ofIzMFY0HqgoKCYxrfIKTBDPf1qlmeF4ROXcps7hMCe3NXcaVji1443XBU8Hv4G8hRZug6iaosrc6QGwqIYTZgDKu0t5abaP5pdFm9mTtJZp941MtsttCQ/s1600/photo-5.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 380px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9al6PiAN0mp_xPdc3ofIzMFY0HqgoKCYxrfIKTBDPf1qlmeF4ROXcps7hMCe3NXcaVji1443XBU8Hv4G8hRZug6iaosrc6QGwqIYTZgDKu0t5abaP5pdFm9mTtJZp941MtsttCQ/s400/photo-5.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514921032880479314" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span id="internal-source-marker_0.4296990465372801" style="font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Part Of The Story</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">This week our pastor is off across the Atlantic Ocean having an adventure in Spain. He is waking up to fair mornings in a rustic stone farmhouse out in the middle of a picturesque landscape of rolling green hills. Hundreds of people with longing hearts from countries all over this world will walk past his door today wondering if God is, and hoping they can find Him. Our dear brother will tell them of the Lord in their own language with all the compassion, humor and love that dwells in that remarkable heart of his. When all is said and done, this will be a week for the missionary record books filled with stories worth telling and retellling, again and again.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Do you ever wish you were part of some adventure like that one? Do you ever long to be part of </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">the</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "> Story? Do you ever look at your own life wondering if it mattered in the spiritual scheme of things that you got up and did your thing today? This morning I woke up early, got out of bed and went to work. A bit later I took my car to the shop to get repaired, hung out with my two younger kids while the bug guy sprayed the house and then went back to work. Hmm. Doesn’t sound too adventurous, does it? And yet, I’m not so sure we can make that call. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Jesus said that if you want to be great in God’s kingdom, you have to become like little children and like servants; and they aren’t the ones who go off to war, fame and valor. He said there’s just about nothing more important than getting someone in need a cup of cold water. Paul said we should make it our ambition to lead a quiet life and mind our own business! He also said that the whole point of the church is to prove to invisible armies of spiritual forces just how wise and awesome God really is, and they sure do have to watch a bunch of normal, old, everyday lives! What if living our normal little lives with sincere faithfulness, genuine love and devotion to Jesus is the most adventurous thing we could possibly do? What if you are an essential character in the Great Story already? What if working your job, raising your kids or making your way through school is exactly the adventure He’s called you into, and living your plain-ole life with persistence and endurance by His strength winds up being one of the brave deeds of the children of men in the history of this world?</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">I’m re-reading the Lord of the Rings right now and I just finished the part where Sam and Frodo are almost to Mordor and Sam begins to reflect on the stories and songs of old. He says, </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">“We shouldn’t be here at all, if we’d known more about it before we started. But I suppose it’s often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of sport as you might say. But that’s not the way of it... Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually - their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn’t.”</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">You, whoever you are, are right smack dab in the midst of a crucial point in the Great Story and no one can live your tale but you. Today you find yourself facing challenges and problems that were laid out for you alone and the adventure does not lie in the scope of the deed, but in simply seeing it through. Great or small, you have a part to play and the One who set the board is waiting for you to call out to Him for strength and guidance. Your calling is that of the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 16 which says, </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">“Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong. Do everything in love.”</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "> And one day, you’ll see that you were a character in the Tale, a hero in the Song.</span></div></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-47913540103192053492010-09-02T09:43:00.001-07:002010-09-02T09:43:57.954-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUSfDkOgQkdsDqGSE1EZUzWHB8eKT9OI6jLcctUyzA941IiwV79yQbJ350ffafKrZt1hPX2-5xoanfJvbxx1GPLA3lEOjA7UL3440sh_sTNa7jROPTTG1ck1lJLXhxtM-vg4TJRQ/s1600/IMG_0014.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 314px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUSfDkOgQkdsDqGSE1EZUzWHB8eKT9OI6jLcctUyzA941IiwV79yQbJ350ffafKrZt1hPX2-5xoanfJvbxx1GPLA3lEOjA7UL3440sh_sTNa7jROPTTG1ck1lJLXhxtM-vg4TJRQ/s400/IMG_0014.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512357800696330514" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxYzr2xuS10E8WDuVku90Vk8oI_uyy4BC41IRSqfc4_j_mh2ks_GBlbUywE8nkLROUoGLyiBhDjvSRL4f7wrFSRZnxZvoJn5yHD9sQsfvFjyiNekTFEcLhmW_IH9-rIRa5195Cqg/s1600/IMG_0015.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxYzr2xuS10E8WDuVku90Vk8oI_uyy4BC41IRSqfc4_j_mh2ks_GBlbUywE8nkLROUoGLyiBhDjvSRL4f7wrFSRZnxZvoJn5yHD9sQsfvFjyiNekTFEcLhmW_IH9-rIRa5195Cqg/s400/IMG_0015.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512357788911113490" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbEIbTmPV0QWJjFpdqC3XOLL7moFRc9zk1cVzGcErRCxUqI3brLuri2qAGeiJOTt5sr-38lEhHwj_mIBc5wYH7NWO3r47PO1kDnIVv0hRie38Kq5AMseXoXYrI0OdxPkVCNf2AQg/s1600/IMG_0025.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 347px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbEIbTmPV0QWJjFpdqC3XOLL7moFRc9zk1cVzGcErRCxUqI3brLuri2qAGeiJOTt5sr-38lEhHwj_mIBc5wYH7NWO3r47PO1kDnIVv0hRie38Kq5AMseXoXYrI0OdxPkVCNf2AQg/s400/IMG_0025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512357780412536834" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span id="internal-source-marker_0.8980350887868553" style="font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">The Kingdom</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Every month our board of elders meets to discuss the state of our church and make various leadership decisions. We begin these meetings in the only way leadership meetings ought to begin: with prayer. During the prayer time at the beginning of our last meeting, one of my brothers in the group said something that took me aback. In fact, I don’t know if I’ve ever heard someone pray this sentence before...</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">In the midst of a sweet prayer of thanksgiving to the Lord, he said, “And dear Lord, I thank You for the kingdom of God.”</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Whoa. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Have you ever heard someone pray that? I don’t think I have. Man, I liked it though. Since that Tuesday night, I have been mindful not only of that prayer but about how thankful I actually am for the Kingdom of God. When you step back for a second and think about it, it’s an amazing and beautiful thing God is doing and has done... The Father of life and love has not only made a way for rebellious villains to be forgiven, but when we come to Him in faith, he brings us into a fellowship of ex-rebels turned children of God! The Apostle John said it better: </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">“To all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God.”</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">This is fantastic and amazing news! As soon as I trusted in Christ I gained brothers and sisters and fellow soldiers and subjects of God! My all-time favorite heroes are my real-life big brothers! One day I’ll really meet folks like C.S. Lewis, Casper Ten Boom, John Newton and Isaac Watts! When I go to heaven, I am going to get to spend time with people I didn’t get to know for long enough here on earth! My Dad’s precious parents are there, along with my dear Aunt Jean. Pastor Stuckey is there, (the man who kissed me the very first and only time I got to meet him) and because of the Kingdom of God, that precious saint is my brother! We are the kin of folks like Paul, Daniel and Job! We are related to thousands upon thousands of brothers and sisters who have lived and suffered and died and served Christ in total anonymity to the wonder of the angelic armies of God!</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">But it gets even better! You see, since God has made us His kids through the sacrifice of our Lord Jesus, we are surrounded by family right here and now! We get to be the body of Christ actually at work in the world; healing the hurting, loving the broken and reaching the lost! We are connected to Christians in other churches, other towns, other countries and other continents all over this world! Whenever we meet to pray and praise our Lord, we join that praise to the worship of millions of His beloved children all over the place! And not only that, but we are connected to saints right here in our little church... men and women of God gifted by Him for service and empowered by the Holy Spirit Himself! We have friends who love Jesus... friends who love us... friends who are fighting alongside us and are there for us! We have people. They’ll pray if we need it and help when we need it. We have people who need us and they are our kindred, bound to us by the precious blood of Jesus. We are not alone in this world, but are living stones being built up into something sweet, strong, beautiful, eternal and filled with the love of the Father of life! In the words of my brother, “Dear Lord, I thank you for the Kingdom of God!”</span></div></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-66007581811991462932010-08-26T11:16:00.000-07:002010-08-26T11:18:45.398-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyfsxbZCdjXZAKZAu0zbPBM8CqUQsNxufEIqdgXc7ATSF2J41rToaa6iqtQyTCtYpaV9Cchg3_WMtGCobT0bZkJFhbYoT6QPeTs9XK_GYE1rAukDAgB9p-nZ0EYcHJKqubyrS7oQ/s1600/photo-4.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyfsxbZCdjXZAKZAu0zbPBM8CqUQsNxufEIqdgXc7ATSF2J41rToaa6iqtQyTCtYpaV9Cchg3_WMtGCobT0bZkJFhbYoT6QPeTs9XK_GYE1rAukDAgB9p-nZ0EYcHJKqubyrS7oQ/s400/photo-4.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509784347944507714" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5i-QkpnOd8E0CTITSbpkh7fW0uuAJq0DI57f4cMZ-yl-xR3_ZaoEo1EV_HPISgNJJBpWxAlYfAj83w79By9VDAoDmUiLaGouPlbnl1xaO6dQPjpjodJMIYLR9W0ukferG5hIyxw/s1600/photo-2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 297px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5i-QkpnOd8E0CTITSbpkh7fW0uuAJq0DI57f4cMZ-yl-xR3_ZaoEo1EV_HPISgNJJBpWxAlYfAj83w79By9VDAoDmUiLaGouPlbnl1xaO6dQPjpjodJMIYLR9W0ukferG5hIyxw/s400/photo-2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509784342053372466" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnuqsssyYfjLqOtgK7FoizKoIdwkPi6DV89M1txKAIOm0AZRSEE5TxdojhcrOXfNtsSTurtp6bSHhZJNexs3dSvFSzG4RzZAr6P9TvpfU0tOdYKE7c9q7rOdLyGktPQhqXCf4GAA/s1600/photo-3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnuqsssyYfjLqOtgK7FoizKoIdwkPi6DV89M1txKAIOm0AZRSEE5TxdojhcrOXfNtsSTurtp6bSHhZJNexs3dSvFSzG4RzZAr6P9TvpfU0tOdYKE7c9q7rOdLyGktPQhqXCf4GAA/s400/photo-3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509784335928294626" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh1QjVCzsbksMa0JAlKZeuez0CFonHsVSKxgOERRlAjgjYqR33rG59OY81FXuwpNRxzy2FV3_5XQFxZCWOM0XapdW47pCFjUJTK4Y6P5oj9yeOjMguS27M99my7AqeDUsa9E9ncQ/s1600/photo.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh1QjVCzsbksMa0JAlKZeuez0CFonHsVSKxgOERRlAjgjYqR33rG59OY81FXuwpNRxzy2FV3_5XQFxZCWOM0XapdW47pCFjUJTK4Y6P5oj9yeOjMguS27M99my7AqeDUsa9E9ncQ/s400/photo.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509784328749547330" /></a><br /><div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; "><span id="internal-source-marker_0.304319727467373" style="font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Knowing What To Do</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">Warning: The following essay is rife with content that is graphic in nature, which may disturb those who have a weak constitution. The experience described is commonplace for parents of young children, but has the potential to shock those who have not undergone the various trials of parenthood. I have recorded the experience with what I believe to be a redeeming spiritual insight or two which I hope will edify the reader, so you may choose to read on, or stop right here. Either way, you have been warned...</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Fortunately, it was bath night, so I was already intending to dunk Norah into the tub. I had already given Jack his bath and had taken him into his room to dry him off and get him in his pajamas when I heard Norah scream. It wasn’t her loudest scream, but it was troubled and I could tell as soon as I heard it that she was on the verge of crying. I left Jack sitting on the changing table and rushed into the bathroom to find that Norah had diarrhea, but had not made it to the toilet... the poor girl was standing there not sure what to do. It was on her clothes, on her and all over the bathmat. I called out to Christy for help with Jack so that he didn’t take a swan dive off of the changing table and rushed back into the bathroom to sort out the you know what.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I managed to get Norah out of the rest of her clothes and onto the toilet. I managed to start the new bath water and I managed to comfort Norah, I think. The situation was fairly under control with the exception of one huge factor: I had no idea how to handle the bathmat. I mean, I knew it needed to go into the washing machine, (if not the trash can) but what to do with all the excess stuff? I felt like I need to get rid of that first before I could head to the washing machine, but I was at a total loss. I was thinking hard, tiptoeing around the problem with the grace and skill of a ballet dancer. Norah watched me with wide eyes and said, “Dad, be careful. You don’t want to get any poo on your socks!”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Finally Christy finished with Jack and came to check on us. I just looked up and said, “I’m not really sure what to do at this point.” I have to pause the story here and say that this was one of those moments in observing motherhood that filled me with awe and thankfulness for my wife. Without hesitating, without even blinking, she said, “I know what to do” and got to work. In the blink of an eye she produced a cup out of thin air and started scooping up the offending spot. In about two seconds, she had the problem solved, Norah in the bath, laughing and singing, and the bathmat in the washing machine, soaking in detergent and oxy clean. I had a meeting at church that night and by the time I got home, Norah was sleeping peacefully in her bed; clean, happy and at rest. The bathmat was back on the bathroom floor, clean as a whistle and Christy was on the couch paying all the bills with a smile on her face as if nothing at all had ever happened.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">What!? </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">When I think back on that little scene, I am reminded of our Father in heaven who always knows what to do when we’re sick with sin, stuck, confused, helpless, upset and dirty. I think about 1 John 1:9 which says, </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I think about Zechariah chapter 3 when the High Priest Joshua stood before the Lord covered in dirty clothes with Satan on his right side accusing him. Joshua didn’t know what to do! He was helpless and stuck, but the Lord said, </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“Take off his filthy clothes... See, I have taken away your sin, and I will put rich garments on you.” </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Just like a mother in the midst of the mess, our Lord knows what to do and He has done it! And we rest at ease in our beds on the other side of mercy, clean and at peace.</span></span></div></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background-color: transparent; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; "><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-42023295209940822372010-08-19T06:17:00.000-07:002010-08-19T06:30:33.660-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD3ZebrmBifBCzcOlfYZpAtmJCHFjdTESkG4AoUjHNub0iseCKJoI9ZduuI99i7a5DxFB5blkbsCoJ7rgGLN-O0dEkpPEFva7ugn3zIek2WuquEunYxXo_4iMEtab4cxkJgmek1A/s1600/photo-3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 306px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD3ZebrmBifBCzcOlfYZpAtmJCHFjdTESkG4AoUjHNub0iseCKJoI9ZduuI99i7a5DxFB5blkbsCoJ7rgGLN-O0dEkpPEFva7ugn3zIek2WuquEunYxXo_4iMEtab4cxkJgmek1A/s400/photo-3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507109921599965138" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnnB25I7S7eSazfD_8fEFO8tV9JRNsEf6ohJ2f_2W77QGjTPtZXzqk-uPNS653Krp6F6NtSoLvVSDJjqoT8dt9uGkeRxB40N2OxQw10ldvqqs59Wb-6_4qFCCk1FJcuIl99euYog/s1600/photo-4.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 340px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnnB25I7S7eSazfD_8fEFO8tV9JRNsEf6ohJ2f_2W77QGjTPtZXzqk-uPNS653Krp6F6NtSoLvVSDJjqoT8dt9uGkeRxB40N2OxQw10ldvqqs59Wb-6_4qFCCk1FJcuIl99euYog/s400/photo-4.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507109913904318594" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Here's our Anna on her first day of First Grade!!!</span></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkx64IKRlJjZOR0HnSPHL4VhzpwPK6p62Wr5VGrHiH3oGTbuqAVj1-U-PHWxYrIwCBypWsLqveiUPRzXUOMLh7OGRz3xoewFi1DwMywvaTnXZ_SB5OFnMZpAs7hcRfi5o3u_JMfw/s1600/photo-5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 294px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkx64IKRlJjZOR0HnSPHL4VhzpwPK6p62Wr5VGrHiH3oGTbuqAVj1-U-PHWxYrIwCBypWsLqveiUPRzXUOMLh7OGRz3xoewFi1DwMywvaTnXZ_SB5OFnMZpAs7hcRfi5o3u_JMfw/s400/photo-5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507109906254731458" /></a><br /></div><div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background- color:transparent;"><span id="internal-source-marker_0.2788407674524933" style="background- font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">Fly On...</span></b></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><br /></span></b></span><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"></span><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">Anna started first grade this week... FIRST GRADE!! Are you kidding me?! I know I probably said this when she started Kindergarten last year, but: How did this happen!? And how in the world was Kindergarten a year ago!? Was it really almost seven years ago that I first held her in the hospital? Didn’t she just start giggling a few weeks ago? Wasn’t it only yesterday that she started walking? Oh man, this is going so fast it’s making my head spin... I can’t slow her down and there’s no hope of stopping this madness. Everyone said that these years would fly past us and they were right... Anna just keeps on flapping her sweet little wings right in front of us. Before we know it, she’ll be gone.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"></span><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">As we dropped her off for first grade on Monday, it hit me just how desperate my prayers for her are becoming. I find myself gripping my pen a little too tightly as I scrawl out frantic pleas to the Lord. I’m begging Him to help her, to draw her to Himself, to pour out His love into her heart through the Holy Spirit and to give her a heart that loves to be His. I pray that He’ll guide her, shepherd her through the mess of this world along the pathway of some beautiful plan that He’s hatched for her very best. Everyday she gets bigger and older and more independent of her little ‘ole earthly dad and the more aware of it I am, the more desperate my prayers become.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"></span><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">In Psalm 127, Solomon said that children are like arrows. </span></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">“Sons are a heritage from the LORD, children a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are sons born in one's youth.” </span></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">As much as you want to, you’re not supposed to hold on to your kids, you’re supposed to shoot them out there and send them flying through the air, blazing the trail of God’s will for their lives. The night before Anna’s first day of Kindergarten, as hard as it was for her to utter the words, my wife held Anna’s hand and prayed over that little arrow, that the Lord would shoot her out there far and swift. Maybe I’m overreacting... it’s only first grade after all, and we’ve still got a long way to go, but it’s tough. I’m putting all of my eggs in the basket of the Holy Spirit.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"></span><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">This is a good thing and it’s teaching me some difficult, but necessary stuff about control. See,the main reason I’m scared about the future and about my kids is that in some way, I must still think that I have some control over them and over what’s going to happen to them. Well, I don’t. We don’t have control over anything! In fact, our Lord said, </span></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">“Don’t swear by your head, for you cannot make even one hair white or black.”</span></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"> Anna is in God’s hands. She belongs to Him. She’s really His child anyway, and so am I. It’s good to let go, to trust God and to let Him do is job. As these painful truths were hitting me in the face early one morning, this song eased its way out of my quaking little heart:</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"></span><br /><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"></span><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">LITTLE BIRD</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"></span><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">Fly on my little bird</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">Right up above the clouds</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">Sweet wind, won’t You carry her</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">She’s in your hands now</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"></span><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">I can’t see where her feet are gonna light</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">But You can keep those little wings in flight,</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">She’s in Your sight</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">(CHORUS)</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"></span><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">Hold her near when she breaks her little wing</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">‘Cause I long to hear the flying song she sings, </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">So let it ring</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;">(CHORUS)</span></span></span></span></div></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background- color:transparent;"><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; background- color:transparent;"><span style="background- font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; color:transparent;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" width="400" height="100"><param name="movie" value="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer.swf/track=828517102/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=4285BB/"><param name="quality" value="high"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="never"><param name="allowNetworking" value="always"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"><embed src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer.swf/track=828517102/size=venti/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=4285BB/" width="400" height="100" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" quality="high" allowscriptaccess="never" allownetworking="always" wmode="transparent" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"></embed><noembed></noembed></object>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20039793.post-5167579263480172872010-08-13T12:25:00.000-07:002010-08-13T12:30:08.910-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;"><b>Have You Checked <a href="http://tolovejesus.blogspot.com/">This</a> Out Yet?</b></span></span><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://tolovejesus.blogspot.com/"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMTe_DGM0jW-JNEOmC7cbaI32aCylRuLzVFnwnILFgfL5mRx-vSOguRhpnTIrzF6MWHhQSgCJ5Gs5GYAGcFfBAVvWIMKl5Vj3m6ST_cpUJACrMbcPoYQTn5jLoCVUnWZYWILN-EA/s1600/photo.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 385px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMTe_DGM0jW-JNEOmC7cbaI32aCylRuLzVFnwnILFgfL5mRx-vSOguRhpnTIrzF6MWHhQSgCJ5Gs5GYAGcFfBAVvWIMKl5Vj3m6ST_cpUJACrMbcPoYQTn5jLoCVUnWZYWILN-EA/s400/photo.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504978080365273234" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900;">A brand new blog called "<a href="http://tolovejesus.blogspot.com/">Fairest Of Ten Thousand</a>" - short, bite-sized paragraphs on why I love Jesus. </span></span></div></div>James Lee Younger IIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00176268461314286485noreply@blogger.com0