tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74730180673702785482024-03-12T18:54:46.416-07:00Carbon Ribs"I'm a dead man now with a ghost who lives within the confines of these carbon ribs, and one day, when I'm free, I will sit beside you; the cripple at your table." ~J. McmillanShannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-70657769131517720052013-04-29T12:05:00.001-07:002013-05-18T10:55:57.842-07:00A God of light; a God of dark<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>632</o:Words>
<o:Characters>3604</o:Characters>
<o:Company>Argo Group US</o:Company>
<o:Lines>30</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>8</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>4228</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>14.0</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/>
<w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/>
<w:OverrideTableStyleHps/>
<w:UseFELayout/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="276">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xAgFNqGpWRA/UX7EDpDIFaI/AAAAAAAAAK8/gtPDMV0yb4s/s1600/IMG_3751.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-acKemw1B6uE/UYB-2-ryNBI/AAAAAAAAALM/aMxjYozdglo/s1600/IMG_3601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-acKemw1B6uE/UYB-2-ryNBI/AAAAAAAAALM/aMxjYozdglo/s320/IMG_3601.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13.0pt;">I'm
listening to you now in the hallway, staring at my toes and trying to focus on
chipped-polish. It’s no match for the aching sound of your tears. No matter how
many books I’ve read on child development or the vast counsel and wisdom handed down from
women far more advanced than I on the various stages of motherhood, I’m not
sure I’ll ever get used to this in time for it to pass. You’re a “good
sleeper”, an “easy baby” (as if there is such a thing). I have no reason to
complain in the company of friends whose little ones cry for hours at bedtime.
My heart overflows with gratefulness when I think of this indiscriminate
blessing. However, as your teeth wage a ruthless war against your gums, the
challenge has heightened and I feel myself being tested. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13.0pt;">The
preciousness of your pleas pouring through the cracks in the door behind me is
crushing to my spirit. While there was a time you would wail in
segments with your earnestness to grab hold of my attention rising and falling, depending on the day’s events, <i>this</i> is new. It seems as though you are acutely
aware of your surroundings at every moment. Just as my arms wrap you up and my
feet begin toward your room, your tiny body tenses. I feel your heart rate
quicken and limbs begin to squirm without purpose. You smother my face with
slobbery kisses and babble loudly, reciting every vowel you know. You do this as though
you’ve done something wrong to deserve punishment and now need only to earn enough
“points” to keep me near. I ache as I praise your efforts and snuggle you in
closer, knowing the nursery door is only a few feet ahead. And the night must
come. Even Superman needs his sleep. It is essential that you know the sun will
rise and fall each day, requiring much; necessitating rest. You need to grow.
This is non-negotiable, however often I dream of it being otherwise. And I must
help you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13.0pt;">You
can’t see this, not yet. You can’t see how your daddy has prepped your room,
turning on the nightlight, humidifier, and pulling the shades to help your eyes
rest. You can’t hear the soft music over your own vocal chords and you’re unable to
recognize the clean sheets pulled tightly around your mattress to keep you safe
and warm. He's even made sure your favorite stuffed animals are at your side, reminding you that this is still home where you belong. No, all you
see is darkness. All you comprehend is silence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">So
as I lower you into bed and the room begins to dim, your crying turns to
shrieking. And then your shrieking takes the form of a silent sob, which periodically comes up for air and fuel, and only so as to launch into another outpour of
lamentation. As the door closes and you feel me leave, your weeping reaches its
summit: a bellow of hopelessness I won’t ever be able to rightly define, decants
from your throat. I quietly beg for you to stop and begin to feel the heavy
flow of my own tears; those familiar streams. It’s a wonder they haven’t
permanently stained my cheeks. I won't leave the hallway, not until I hear your heavy breathing slow,</span><span style="font-size: 17px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 13pt;">giving way to sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">If
you could only know what I know ... If you could only trust that the darkness
doesn’t mean that I am absent. If you could look into my eyes long enough,
listen to my whispers in your ear, reminding you that I am constantly present
and never going to leave you alone. If you could just remember how each morning
I faithfully rush to your side, sweeping you up and filling the house with our
giggles. If you could just realize that with the absence of light and distraction,
you will learn to grow, learn to rest. If you could only comprehend how I ache
for you, weep when you weep, and loathe the sound of your pain with every fiber
of my being. If you could just see me now, pressing my face against the other side of your
nursery door, praying for your safety, your health, your dreams. </span><span style="font-size: 17px;">Have I not conveyed the depth of my love for you? </span><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Can you not hear my heart begging yours to know that I am still here, still <i>for</i> you, still wanting you? </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13.0pt;">…Have I not earned your TRUST?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13.0pt;">Oh
God, how naive I've been. </span><br />
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;">Are you still outside the door of my room? How long have you
been crying? How long have you been waiting for me to trust in the faithfulness of your morning; the necessity of this night? </span><span style="font-size: 17px;">Forgive me, </span><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I didn't notice you there</span><span style="font-size: 13pt;">...teaching me to <i>know</i> you in the darkness and rest in anticipation of the light.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13.0pt;">“I will never leave
you, nor forsake you.” </span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Deuteronomy 31:6</span><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rYcwCXWT_hI/UNTIQnBUOPI/AAAAAAAAAKg/ETO-Q2O7Dqs/s1600/IMG_2020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rYcwCXWT_hI/UNTIQnBUOPI/AAAAAAAAAKg/ETO-Q2O7Dqs/s320/IMG_2020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-size: 13.0pt;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-40348961731769687512013-04-24T10:05:00.000-07:002013-05-18T10:57:08.543-07:00I Am Yours and You are Mine<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>368</o:Words>
<o:Characters>2098</o:Characters>
<o:Company>Argo Group US</o:Company>
<o:Lines>17</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>4</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>2462</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>14.0</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/>
<w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/>
<w:OverrideTableStyleHps/>
<w:UseFELayout/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="276">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F2OhBGZStks/UYFO9jszUZI/AAAAAAAAARs/1qwUYiC1HM0/s1600/IMG_3500.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F2OhBGZStks/UYFO9jszUZI/AAAAAAAAARs/1qwUYiC1HM0/s320/IMG_3500.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As foreseen, my son has been my constant reminder
of the love of God. Relaying the following story to a friend two weeks ago I
was encouraged to share again here, however redundant this theme may be.:} <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Recently the university I’m earning my Masters
with put on a talent show for current and prospective students. I took Afton
along with me for the first few performances in order to catch-up with my old
Admissions team. The room was packed and Afton was immediately snatched up by a
number of doters. Grateful for the break in constant parenting duties, I let
him ride the wave of welcoming arms, keeping an eye on him from a distance as
he moved around the room. He finally made his way back to my own circle, settling
on the lap of a friend two seats away. It was past his bedtime and with all the
chaos encircling us he wasn't acting like his normal, smiley self. Instead he
maintained a sort of dazed expression, his mouth agape and eyes glazed. Friends
of ours, familiar with his unremitting giggles and grins, took turns trying to
unearth a smile. He slowly moved on from each expression without reacting in
the slightest to their charades … until at last, his eyes met mine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That’s when it happened. His whole
countenance changed. He unreservedly transformed from this slack-jawed, wandering, uneasy boy, to the happiest baby anyone had ever seen! The top of his head
down to the tip of his toes, smiled -- it seemed as though every part of him
was grinning. He may as well have shouted to the rooftops, "<b>That's the one
I was looking for</b>!" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Everyone at the table gave a unanimous "awwww"
and I beamed with pride. My usual, smiling-at-anyone-and-everyone-baby (who made
me doubt as to whether I was really any different to him from joe-shmoe at the
grocery store) set me apart in that room like never before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">When I arrived home I just began to weep, feeling
humbled and prodigiously honored to belong to this boy. And in the midst of my
joy-filled-tears, Jesus said to my heart, <i>"You know, this is how it will
be ... when I come to get you and bring you home. A sea of unfamiliar-faces
will stand between us. It will be when everything seems empty and lost and you
realize more than ever that you<b> truly </b>don’t
belong where you are; when you’re tired and looking for a sign of ‘home’... You
will look up and see me searching. And when I see YOU, I will smile from my head
down to my toes. And everyone will know that I am yours and you are mine."</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="background-color: black; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 23px;">John 1:12-13</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 23px;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"></span><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 23px;"><u style="background-color: black;">Yet 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.</u></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: #d9ead3; line-height: 23px;"><u><br /></u></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J_t6QBQoN0o/UYFO9_AaLxI/AAAAAAAAARw/K8_7QHj8oE4/s1600/IMG_3505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J_t6QBQoN0o/UYFO9_AaLxI/AAAAAAAAARw/K8_7QHj8oE4/s320/IMG_3505.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<!--EndFragment-->Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-67503212768052031802012-12-23T10:19:00.001-08:002012-12-23T10:19:12.975-08:00Carbon Ribs: Incongruency<a href="http://shannonleeandrews.blogspot.com/2012/02/incongruency.html#links">Carbon Ribs: Incongruency</a>Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-65653936593215498492012-12-22T22:43:00.001-08:002012-12-22T22:43:56.026-08:00Carbon Ribs: 15 Things to Avoid saying to your Pregnant Wife; Credited to Joshua Michael Andrews<a href="http://shannonleeandrews.blogspot.com/2012/08/15-things-to-avoid-saying-to-your.html#links">Carbon Ribs: 15 Things to Avoid saying to your Pregnant Wife; Credited to Joshua Michael Andrews</a>Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-60464516044904465662012-12-21T12:36:00.001-08:002013-05-01T10:35:37.589-07:00Blessed are You who Weep...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="font-family: arial;">
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">“Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. . . . Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven” (Luke 6:21-23).</span></i></div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Grounded. I feel grounded - a yearning for flight. Madness encompasses my TV screen, my radio. I'm lingering on every young face passing me at the grocery store a little longer than usual, needing to somehow be certain they never slip from their mothers fingers. This weekend, Afton had his fourth-month-shots. I was handed a pamphlet by his pediatrician on just how necessary and prophylactic these were and reassured that I was a good mother for seeing to it that he received his scheduled immunizations. The front page had pictures of healthy-looking moms holding their chubby children, gazing into the eyes of one another with euphoria written all over their faces. The children even had band aids on their arms, indicating that any and all procedures had been completed prior to the snapshot. I studied these pictures for some time, immersing myself in the colors so as to be sure I didn't see the injections taking place on my sweet baby's tiny thighs. Since I indeed cried harder than he did during his last blood-draw, the nurses suggested I stand back and allow them to "take care of things". I looked too early…perhaps on purpose, just in time to see his precious smile fade into consummate misery. His current screams (bless his heart) equate that of a 13 year old girl at a Justin Bieber concert, and they pervaded the halls, waiting room, and surrounding parking lots of the doctor's office. I remained calm, nursed, sang-to, and cradled him tightly in my arms until the tears subsided. After a number of errands we arrived home and it was as though the entire ordeal revisited him in great detail. He was in agony again. My evening was immersed in experimental measures of reassurance. Eventually my husband got home from work and found me half asleep on the floor with him in my arms, murmuring repeatedly, "every little thing is gonna be alright..." </span><br />
<div style="font-family: arial;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
After "tagging out" and allowing my little prince to be held by his daddy a while, I went to the bathroom to ready myself for bed. Looking into the mirror at my shabby reflection, I noticed one of Afton's band aids was stuck to the center of my shirt. It had Superman pictures on the sticky ends, and when I turned it over, a spot of blood stained the center. I'm not sure when it was supposed to hit me. I had thought myself quite durable while discussing the horrendous shootings of this past week with friends and family, offering biblical truth and sound reasoning for the necessity of choice among God's creation, the depravity of man, and the "Problems of Pain" (as C.S.L. coins it so beautifully). Yet upon seeing this tiny speck of blood on a Superman band aid and feeling again the ache in my heart for the little boy in the next room, unable to understand why he needed to bleed at all, came the full realization of Sandy Brook. And it overtook me like a tidal wave. To see my child with a pin-prick, the inevitable scraped-knee or fat-lip,<i> this</i> is the challenge my heart anticipates and prepares for. Finding my baby in a pool of blood, his chest still and heart quiet…this cannot be what we, what anyone, is asked to endure. I sank to the bathroom floor in tears, asking God the question, "Is <i>anything</i> still working according to your plan?" </div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
Surely, this cannot be what He meant when He said "take up your cross". How often have I crawled to the end of my bed where Afton's pack 'n play sits, watching intently in the darkness until I can make out the rise and fall of his chest. Life will teach you that when something seems too good to be true, it usually is. Already I brace myself to lose this "something" I find all too good to be true. I've been unable to shake the thought of that band aid; what if the bleeding never stopped? What if the precious soul of my child was unable to cling to his flesh any longer and I, frozen in another realm, was unable to help on his tiny heart. I envisioned each mother, father, grandmother, grandfather, sister, brother frantically beating their hands against the void - waking up each morning to false hopes of it all proving to be nothing more than a terrible nightmare. In the words of John Mark McMillan, "For all my revelating I just can't make sense of this gravity we're in". Lord, can we hope here? Do we dare? Has your creation fallen so far? Have we been "given over to ourselves" entirely? The very question of 'why' seems shallow now. </div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
An organization called Youth with a Mission that I have had the privilege of serving alongside in the past, recently mourned the death of one of its many great leaders. Don Gillman and his wife served the people of Taipei, Taiwan for many years before his unexpected passing in November. There is no shortage in testimony of the deep contributions Don's 54 years of life offered the world. He passionately and unrelentingly displayed the love of Christ. In the wake of so many tragedies this past week, a particular story of Don's came to mind -- one he had shared with our missionary teams in Lakeside, Montana years ago. Don had traveled to Indonesia and was given the rare opportunity of touring an underground prison preserved from the 1960's in memory of those tortured and murdered in its mass genocide. Each room of the memorial held tools, stones and bedding still in place from the haneous acts. "It was painful to walk through", he said, with blood still staining a majority of the floors and walls. But the particular items present, causing him to stagger in anguish, were the pictures in each room of the prison. They displayed those chained and mutilated in their original positions of torture. He would not relay the details of these evil depictions, but he told us with a heaviness to his voice, that many were of children. Toward the end of his tour he found himself gazing into one frame of unspeakable horror, and as his thoughts lingered to those inflicting this torture. He suddenly uttered aloud, "These people, they aren't people at all … they're animals." And I won't ever forget what he said next. "God responded to me in a very rare and direct way. He said, 'Don, <i>this </i>is what <i><u>you </u></i>are capable of apart from me.'" </div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
Looking at Newtown, I swallow hard with the same realization. </div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
A professor of mine recently discussed the "unnatural darkness" that swept over the land following the crucifixion of Christ. I was intrigued by his specific translation from the Greek -- yes, how 'unnatural' the entire event seems. There is nothing natural about crucifying an innocent man, nothing natural about sending your only son to be tortured and killed by those you had sent him to save. Nothing natural about forgiveness. How high is this calling of unnatural grace? How deeply are we called to mourn with those who mourn and passionately "fix our eyes on the prize set before us?" (Hebrews 12) Surrounded by such "unnatural darkness", will <i>we </i>say (as only a centurion had the courage to), "Truly, this was the Christ"; Truly He is God and we are not. Truly, there is still a plan -- beauty amidst ash. Truly, there is rebirth, and surely … surely, we will see Him again… </div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
With a heavy heart, my prayers are lifted daily for those who lost loved ones this past week. May they find comfort in the Great Comforter who was, is, and <i>still </i>is to come. </div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>1John 3:2</b></span></div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aEjeNQTIkZo/UYFO5UDniUI/AAAAAAAAAQk/GIfzE9ZIPv4/s1600/IMG_3371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aEjeNQTIkZo/UYFO5UDniUI/AAAAAAAAAQk/GIfzE9ZIPv4/s400/IMG_3371.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
</div>
</div>
Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-72830613481214808122012-11-09T12:37:00.002-08:002012-11-09T12:38:17.572-08:00No, Alone I Cannot<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">As a new mom, now 10 weeks postpartum, I've been craving friendship. Only not the sort you find yourself needing on a whim out of vacant affirmation. I'm desiring women of all stages and phases of life to be deeply present in mine. I need my married friends with and without children as well as those who have adopted, fostered and sacrificed in ways I never have. I need to know how it is even remotely possible to manage the constant hunger, need for affection, and hygienic-demands of more than one child. This is an unresolved mystery to me now that I am racing (and often tripping) through each day to meet the needs of ONE. I need my single friends; need to remember what it is like to ache for someone else's name to attach itself to mine -- the desire to feel as though I belong within a unit out from under my parents' roof. I need the wisdom of the old and the young, the new and used hearts. How often I wish I could take back the fleeting comments I've made to women in different stages of life, of which I was utterly naive. I can recall saying to friends of mine with young children, "So what else are you doing these days?" How ridiculous I must have sounded to them. A single friend of mine in her 30's recently told me about a conversation in which she invited another married friend of hers to a local, late night happy hour. The married friend responded with "oh how I wish I could be single again, without the responsibilities of a husband and children...Happy Hour sounds like so much fun." My single friend retorted (on the inside, of course), "Really?! Because I would trade a cheap cosmopolitan and bar fries for a husband who loved me, any day of the week." Now, as someone who married rather young and has endured her fair share of heartache, I can honestly say that there have been many happy-hours mourned. Still, the assumption on both parties (one being that marriage is the ultimate attainment for life-long satisfaction, and the other, wishing it were so and longing for women without the "chains" of that commitment to recognize their freedom) is foolishness. I think it is too easy for us to assume that the depth of our current stage is the ultimate and final plummet. Truly, do we ever "arrive" at such a maturity as to leverage us unable to accept the wisdom of those on another side - whether that be single, married, celibate, dating, parenting, adopting, laboring or attempting to conceive? I have heard the most profound wisdom from the mouths of children. Why is it that so often we conclude others (though they be a few years ahead or behind us) incapable of the same? I'm craving friendship…and wisdom; wisdom I do not have, though I am a daughter of 27 years, wife of 5 1/2, and mother of 1. I will continuously lack the wisdom God has generously (and I do think</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><i>purposefully)</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> endowed to those outside of myself. Could it be that we were created for not only relationship but discipleship?…I simply do not have what it takes. I never will. The sooner I recognize this and hold tight to the hands outstretched in my direction, the sooner I will climb the mountain before me. I have never been so aware of the fact that my portrait, my design, was not meant to stand alone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s0kvSbzwfHw/UJ1orRYOB1I/AAAAAAAAAKA/g4rB_fH9LME/s1600/IMG_0451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s0kvSbzwfHw/UJ1orRYOB1I/AAAAAAAAAKA/g4rB_fH9LME/s320/IMG_0451.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-67296316343299639762012-11-09T12:18:00.001-08:002013-05-01T10:29:09.346-07:00<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MlVmqnvq0tk/UJ1kat840UI/AAAAAAAAAJo/sTTwcXH81fY/s1600/IMG_1607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MlVmqnvq0tk/UJ1kat840UI/AAAAAAAAAJo/sTTwcXH81fY/s320/IMG_1607.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
Heartbeat like a little train, forging on, through the fray</div>
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
Sometimes in the quiet I can hear it</div>
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
You send me up into the night, a mother's hopeless, endless flight</div>
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
of worry I can't be a better fit</div>
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
And oh how little I've become for you, certain there is more to do</div>
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
before I introduce you to the air</div>
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
But in my dreams I see your face, your honey eyes and chubby waist </div>
<div style="margin-left: 0.5in;">
and overcome, I linger and I stare…</div>
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-76100997340288834702012-09-19T11:42:00.001-07:002012-09-21T13:06:58.321-07:00Sweet Afton<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UZAGLK94TsQ/UFoQHaxcFaI/AAAAAAAAAIM/oVOeT5FFlA8/s1600/Afton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UZAGLK94TsQ/UFoQHaxcFaI/AAAAAAAAAIM/oVOeT5FFlA8/s320/Afton.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0.5in; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
I am feeling exceptionally honored today -- honored that the king of heaven would entrust such a helpless, fragile, and beautiful thing to my care. You fold into my arms like your indentation has always been there; like a puzzle piece suddenly found between the couch cushions, changing the entire canvass into something meaningful and distinct. Your face is quite decidedly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Marriage has always demanded a sort of heroic love -- one that requires a great amount (and frequency) of <i>choice</i>. In this way, no love will ever truly compare to what I have with and for your daddy. But <i>this</i> love…<b>you</b>…you ignite an entirely different sort of flame within me, the fuel for which I will never cease to carry in abundance. It is as if I was given <i>no</i> choice but to love you. My very bones ache when you cry. My feet scurry faster -- faster than they've ever moved to your side to dry every tear and wrap you in an embrace of affirmation … a hundred times a day I will do this with my conscience awake, yet scarcely noticing I've done so. The pronominal reflex now within me is utterly unavoidable. I <i>need </i>to be with you, and you with me. To have it any other way would be a reconstruction of my very purpose, design. I wonder if this is a "limitation" God placed on Himself when He chose to create. I wonder if He decided to long for us with the same (yet infinitely more perfected) passion, unquenchable and inexhaustibly deep. I look at you, baby boy, looking back at me, and I see <i>Him</i> like I've never seen Him before. Lost in a sea of love I wonder, how could He have ever given <i>His</i> son over to torment and death? There is so much more to this life, this world than I can see. How certain I am of it now. There is so much more to this story -- His story. Oh that I could be a hand raised for love! Oh that I would raise you, a boy, into a man, fixed on His love … That I would stand ready to do for Him what He, the King of Glory, has done for me. </div>
<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0.5in; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0.5in; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Author of Love, make me one such hero in the faith. And give my son a double portion -- that he would never wonder at his purpose or worth as Your own. Allow him to see that there is so much more…so much more than this. </div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-86461895604248845372012-08-15T11:21:00.002-07:002012-09-21T13:15:32.083-07:0015 Things to Avoid saying to your Pregnant Wife; Credited to Joshua Michael Andrews<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cIUDRMYEb9E/UCvhJNTpc7I/AAAAAAAAAGE/5cDZa50HZ4E/s1600/Maternity6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cIUDRMYEb9E/UCvhJNTpc7I/AAAAAAAAAGE/5cDZa50HZ4E/s400/Maternity6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<ol>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">1/12/12 – “If it’s a boy, we should name him Carl Winslow
Andrews. That or Frodo-Samwise-Baggins Andrews.”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">1/16/12 – “Babe, seriously, you have NO idea how tired I
am.”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">1/28/12 – (during first ultrasound) “Ok, is it <i>really </i>that uncomfortable, or just cold?
We probably need to ‘up’ your pain-tolerance for what’s to come…”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">2/5/12 – (behind the camera lens) “I think I see a belly!
Oh, wait…we did<i> </i>just eat lunch.”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">2/10/12 – “I want a baby girl. Yes, I’m saying it; a baby
girl. But only if nothing bad happens to her…ever. And she becomes a nun. Ok, I
want a boy.” </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">2/16/12 – “How soon can I start tossing the baby in the
air?”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">2/18/12 – “So, you don’t <i>really</i> want to just be home with a baby all day, right? I mean,
there’s only so much sleep a person can get before life gets boring…”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">2/20/12 – (After watching me struggle into a favorite
pair of jeans) “That’s ok baby. I’ll just lose all the weight you gain!”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">3/15/12 – “Listen, I found our stroller. Its $1500 … hear
me out … the wheels convert into skis.”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">4/7/12 – “You ready to go, Chubbs?”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">4/18/12 – “I think I’d like to skip the baby-phase and
just go straight to the play-with-me-all-day-dressed-like-batman-and-robin-phase.”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">5/28/12 – “Hey, you actually look normal from the back!”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">6/4/12 – (after being hospitalized for
preterm-contractions) “Ok, I’m not saying you’re a woos, I’m just telling you
now, you’re gonna get even fatter and hurt even more soon…just so you know.”</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">7/2/12 </span><span style="font-size: small;">– "Ok, what if we <i>did</i> open a bottle of anniversary wine and I just drank your portion...?"</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;">8/13/12 </span><span style="font-size: small;">–</span><span style="font-size: small;"> (After I exclaim that "my legs are officially elephant-trunks" in utter exasperation) "Well that isn't so bad. An elephant's trunk <i>is</i> the smallest of their appendages..." </span></li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 115%;">…I decided to start writing these down…more to
come, I’m sure of it.</span></span>Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-83884982154320991152012-08-15T11:04:00.001-07:002012-09-23T13:42:42.363-07:00The Belly Button<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8g8lzLPy9wI/UCvhJfpzAcI/AAAAAAAAAGI/kLhZIiiy4rM/s1600/Maternity7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8g8lzLPy9wI/UCvhJfpzAcI/AAAAAAAAAGI/kLhZIiiy4rM/s320/Maternity7.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I've recently been enlightened
about the belly-button. One of many irrational fears I've held since I was
young, is that if someone were to poke me slightly too hard in the center,
chances are, their finger would go straight through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe it was my sister who first
positioned the anxiety for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After telling
me that my “outtie” was strange, I began to push it in, working it slowly into
an “innie” over the course of several weeks. After all, calling something a
“button” only seems to invite the habit. I was successful in my endeavor and
one day, proudly displayed my new “normal-looking” belly button to my
sister.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was a mastermind and simply
replied, “Well, be careful or you’ll poke a hole right through your belly!”
From then on, I formed the opinion that should this occur, my
"button" would be much like the tab on a pop can, broken-off and lost
in a sea of carbonation; likely to never resurface. It’s a scenario many of the
leading villains in my nightmares have used against me. For this reason, I’ve
steered clear of conversations on or anywhere around the belly button.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
With my newly protruding
mid-section, on many nights I’ll find Josh drawing invisible pictures on my
belly with his finger, talking and reading to our baby. As he was doing this a
few nights ago he asked where the baby gets its nutrients. For some reason, my
answer was “the belly button, obviously.” </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
“Oh”, he said, cocking his head to the left slightly and
continuing with his canvass.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>At this point, if you are even <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">slightly</i> educated, you’re probably
terrified by the thought of Josh and I parenting the future generation in
t-minus-zero-months. In Josh’s defense, he may not have been paying attention
to what I was saying, but I certainly was, and naturally began to question my
logic. I suppose I assumed that my belly button had developed into a long cord
(the umbilical cord) on the inside of me over the first few weeks of pregnancy
and connected itself to the baby’s belly button.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He/she was drawing nutrients from a thin
layer of tissue (which I deemed to be the placenta) lining my stomach around
the cord. Perfectly sensible. Completely inaccurate. This idea planted fresh
anxiety into my already wandering mind – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">How
on Earth will they disconnect the cord on the inside of my belly button once
the baby is born</i>?? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Does it simply
tear off at the stub naturally, or will the OB need to bury an arm up to their
bicep inside of me to make sure it’s a clean cut</i>?! I’ve seen the umbilical
cord of babies cut before. Wouldn’t the very same sever be necessary on the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">inside </i>of me?! Again, if you’re thinking
this is a practical hypothesis, we should probably be friends. If not … we
should probably be friends. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Around the table at Josh’s
mini-birthday party last week, a few gracious women I know opened my eyes to
the obvious. I’m still confused of course…(my bloodstream providing all
essentials this little one needs isn’t any more sound of an explanation in my
opinion), but I am less afraid and feeling much more positive about the ordeal,
not to mention, my belly-button. :)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Speaking
of bellies, here is one with a 6.5lb baby inside...</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QJ96LDpKsfM/UCvhJhZT7wI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/UEfqFeSbf0g/s1600/Maternity8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QJ96LDpKsfM/UCvhJhZT7wI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/UEfqFeSbf0g/s400/Maternity8.jpg" width="267" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4a21nKhiJoI/UCvhIdQmWGI/AAAAAAAAAF4/PxOQ3I2aPQ0/s1600/Maternity4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4a21nKhiJoI/UCvhIdQmWGI/AAAAAAAAAF4/PxOQ3I2aPQ0/s200/Maternity4.jpg" width="135" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uKEjHHk2Cfw/UCvhIvu7g3I/AAAAAAAAAF8/SRZOpJpS8xA/s1600/Maternity5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uKEjHHk2Cfw/UCvhIvu7g3I/AAAAAAAAAF8/SRZOpJpS8xA/s200/Maternity5.jpg" width="133" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ItIvZ27bclo/UCvhGxVk2vI/AAAAAAAAAFk/rWMC3sUkW4E/s1600/Maternity1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ItIvZ27bclo/UCvhGxVk2vI/AAAAAAAAAFk/rWMC3sUkW4E/s200/Maternity1.jpg" width="132" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gHT2Sdj3iEU/UCvhIEPK0-I/AAAAAAAAAF0/D9r1zZJc9jk/s1600/Maternity3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gHT2Sdj3iEU/UCvhIEPK0-I/AAAAAAAAAF0/D9r1zZJc9jk/s200/Maternity3.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6c-bCKwpqfY/UCvhH2REdnI/AAAAAAAAAFs/MgL2uemGLQI/s1600/Maternity2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6c-bCKwpqfY/UCvhH2REdnI/AAAAAAAAAFs/MgL2uemGLQI/s400/Maternity2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-59272027801501194292012-08-01T11:55:00.000-07:002012-09-21T14:20:38.216-07:00Latest Song: Terebinth Seed [Isaiah 6]<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pnfwLvCUYNk/UCvyzThtw6I/AAAAAAAAAHU/CzK3Be03PNI/s1600/7-28-2011-Flavia-Lovatelli-A-Clan-of-Trees-mixed-SG-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pnfwLvCUYNk/UCvyzThtw6I/AAAAAAAAAHU/CzK3Be03PNI/s320/7-28-2011-Flavia-Lovatelli-A-Clan-of-Trees-mixed-SG-6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Speak now<br />
I am listening to you<br />
Hoping you still recognize my face<br />
Look deep<br />
I've been known by many other things lately<br />
<br />
Like tongues of fire lick up straw<br />
And dry grass in the flames will sink<br />
My roots will all decay before you<br />
Like puddles in the Summer's heat<br />
And it will all blow away<br />
<br />
I cry, "I am ruined. My hands are unclean."<br />
Then you speak<br />
And I can't remember what it is you said<br />
But you knew me by name <br />
<br />
Like tongues of fire lick up straw<br />
And dry grass in the flames will sink<br />
My roots will all decay before you<br />
Like puddles in the Summer's heat<br />
And it will all blow away<br />
<br />
Sweet Seraphim fly<br />
Pressing coals to these lips<br />
Then my guilt will escape me<br />
My failings, acquit<br />
Oh atonement is such a lovely retreat<br />
But I fear I'll be left<br />
With a terebinth seed<br />
<br />
And like puddles in the Summer's heat<br />
I will just blow away<br />
Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-34107323563951494212012-06-01T13:10:00.000-07:002012-09-21T14:18:43.444-07:00Michael Anthony O'Connor<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3Ha1ZtwfKPo/UC6mS8KyOvI/AAAAAAAAAH0/UMQ2w3-BjZw/s1600/225357_6825177894_727502894_321277_341_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3Ha1ZtwfKPo/UC6mS8KyOvI/AAAAAAAAAH0/UMQ2w3-BjZw/s320/225357_6825177894_727502894_321277_341_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Father’s day is around the corner, so I will
start with this; My Dad is amazing. It’s true -- He is faster, stronger, more
handsome and entirely more capable than any other on the planet…or at least, that is my opinion on the matter.:) He
has shown me the meaning of manhood, what it is to support a woman from start to finish, in sickness and in health, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">and how forgiving the follies of others should be like breathing air – consistent, necessitated, and more frequent than you expect on hills. He taught me to</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> always trust in God's ability to speak to me, over my ability to hear Him, and is the kind of man you feel the presence
of God around, reminding you of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">His</i>
love with only the sound of his voice across the phone. Pondering my
“trials” as a child (as we all have them), I can say with confidence that I
never once felt betrayal from my Dad. I never felt his contempt on my face or
carried it in my heart. I never thought for <i>one moment</i> that he would stand me
up, miss a game or concert, and never wished in vain for his arms to hold me. The ferocity of his love
and the gentleness with which he was able to convey that is a rare
amalgamation. In high school my choices in dating were well below par, and on a
particular night at the age of 17, I arrived home from a date far beyond my
appointed curfew. I feared my Mom’s reaction the most as the all-too-familiar
shadow of her form would be waiting for me at the top of the staircase, unable
to sleep and sick with worry. Finding my Dad awake in his room at the foot of
their bed however, was a new scene; entirely unanticipated. I made excuses, denied
accusations of unreliability, and threw out the repeated allegation that they
were indeed “simply trying to destroy my life”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My Dad, who’s calm demeanor has always made him a comfort to be around,
suddenly and firmly launched a fist into the pillow beside me. I don’t believe
I had ever seen my Dad’s fist clenched until that moment. He said “Shannon,
until you have children, you will never know the pain of a parent watching their
child head down the same road and into the same mistakes you have made. Your
Mom and I would ‘destroy' <i>ourselves</i> a thousand times over before watching you
do it to yourself.” I can't thank you enough Dad, for being willing to say what was difficult yet honest -- for refusing to "sin in your anger", but rather, communicating righteously, with stern conviction, and out of a deep love.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I think of Proverbs 27 as I look back on this moment, “</span><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;">Better is
open rebuke than hidden love.</span>”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RoKLPNpewmc/UC6lrRU6eqI/AAAAAAAAAHk/RK_WrWmqUbY/s1600/36894_402319167894_727502894_4538177_2555226_a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RoKLPNpewmc/UC6lrRU6eqI/AAAAAAAAAHk/RK_WrWmqUbY/s1600/36894_402319167894_727502894_4538177_2555226_a.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">My wedding day is obviously something I’ll never
forget. This is not only due to the man exceeding my dreams at the end of the
isle, the tapestry, floral arrangements, loving community of friends and
family, but also because of my Dad. As nerves ricocheted off of my heart,
streaming through my bones and touching every part of me previously held
together, my Dad’s arm at the entrance to the sanctuary kept their steady hold. I
remember breathlessly whispering, “I might fall over”. Without hesitation he
replied “I won’t let you fall.” And though I’ve heard a similar line in
countless movies scenes – promises of un-ending love and support from men to
women, I think for one to <i>truly believe</i>
such a promise is extraordinary. I believed him then and still do today. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Though he isn’t a man of rapid and fluctuating
emotion (nothing of course in comparison to my Mom and I) there is one,
solitary moment in which I witnessed his tears. About two years into marriage, Josh
and I encountered a slew of unanticipated trials. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anger, addictions, and a severe distrust
surfaced between us, nearly destroying not only our marriage but the
relationships we had with our first love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At its height, I spent weeks writhing in the agony of heartache and
bracing myself against an army of hopelessness, beating down the door of my
soul. Time away from work and school to be with family in Salem was a retreat I
found necessary in order to gain my bearings and feel a sense of security once
more. After taking similar time away for himself, Josh made a trip down to
where I was. Head on the steering wheel and hands unsteady, I waited until he
drew up the strength to pull away and walk inside my parent’s home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Mom was waiting on the stairs just as she
had so many nights when I was a young girl; my Dad of course, in the next room
as we entered together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The grace of God
in positioning His confidence and humility in Josh that morning is something I
will admire deeply in my husband until the day I die. In brief and choked-back
sentences he re-iterated the vows we had made years earlier, repented of those
which were broken, and directed his plea for forgiveness specifically toward my
Dad – the man who had “handed me over” to him on the basis of these
promises-kept. But before Josh could finish the speech he had prepared, my
Dad’s tears broke into the room; the same fist I had seen long ago, pressed now
to his forehead, straining to contain a flood of tears. He suddenly
stood from his seat across the room and ran at my still-shaking husband. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> Taking</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> him into his arms,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> Josh beseeched his forgiveness over and over again. My Dad's </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">repeated cry in response has set its seal on my heart forever; “I forgive you….I forgive you….I forgive you...”. These fractured words
between them were all that could be heard amidst their sobs as the <i>very heart</i> of Christ radiated from every corner of the room. As the weeping continued, my Mom and I (for perhaps the<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">
first</i> time) sat in silence, stunned and unable to gather ourselves in
response. A song from “Cinderella”, one I had heard a thousand times as a
little girl played back in my heart, “<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">So this is love</span><span style="color: #38761d;">…</span>”.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">My Dad has been a father to the fatherless, a
fearless and gentle commander, and a lover of the unlovable. His unwavering
commitment to the Lord and ambition to not only know the depths of that love,
but communicate it to others has been an inspiration to me. He has taught <i>patient endurance</i> to a family with a
stark inclination for the opposite. On the way home today, Josh and I verbally wrestled with the ever-approaching titles of “Mother”/"Father" we were both to
receive, and all that its meaning would demand. Josh closed our discussion by saying, “If I can be
anything at all like your Dad, I will die a very successful man.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pkBSCv_q_u8/UC6mac50q8I/AAAAAAAAAH8/X6wnHdM3mk8/s1600/present3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pkBSCv_q_u8/UC6mac50q8I/AAAAAAAAAH8/X6wnHdM3mk8/s320/present3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Happy Father’s Day to my incredible Dad. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div style="text-align: center;">
May
we raise up more men in this generation like you.</div>
</span></div>
Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-4425332126396147212012-02-13T13:56:00.001-08:002012-08-16T11:58:54.391-07:00The Fourth Watch of the Night<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VheWm0ysQ30/UCvxjMtUhmI/AAAAAAAAAHM/EtMzXFau9oo/s1600/429195_2873478511186_1086626409_32286565_2008045369_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VheWm0ysQ30/UCvxjMtUhmI/AAAAAAAAAHM/EtMzXFau9oo/s320/429195_2873478511186_1086626409_32286565_2008045369_n.jpg" width="269" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I found myself peeling back the pages of an old journal this weekend to a darker period in time. The excerpt below entitled “Of ORU” was an entry I felt the need to include here. Ecclesiastes 3 offers a perfect example of such a valley and I am thankful I have not forgotten it, nor failed to learn from its depth. Finding <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Him</i> in the mundane, anticlimactic places is crucial to developing an authentic understanding of who He is and what He desires in us. Reading Mark this past week I was struck by chapter 6 in its order of events leading up to Jesus’ infamous trek on the water's surface: </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">“Immediately Jesus made His disciples get into the boat and go ahead of <i>Him</i> to the other side to Bethsaida, while He Himself was sending the crowd away. After bidding them farewell, He left for the mountain to pray. When it was evening, the boat was in the middle of the sea, and He was alone on the land. Seeing them straining at the oars (for the wind was against them), at about the fourth watch of the night, He came to them, walking on the sea; and He intended to pass by them…”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">Frustration was my initial reaction. For those of you unfamiliar with “watches of the night”, this refers to the Jewish cultural norm of dividing the night-hours in three parts. The fourth watch of the night therefore, was between the hours of 3am and 6am. Why on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Earth</i> would Jesus watch them struggle for 9 complete hours, only to waltz out to them on the water’s surface “intending to PASS them by…”?! Reading a little further and digging a little deeper into the story and surrounding text, I began to gain a little clarity. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“…They were terrified when they saw
Him, but Jesus spoke to them at once. ‘Its alright,’ he said. ‘I am here, do
not be afraid.’ Then he climbed into the boat and the wind stopped. They were
astonished at what they saw. They still didn’t understand the miracle of the
multiplied loaves, for their hearts were hard and they did not believe.”</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">There was a severe lack of understanding in the disciples consistently evident in their reactions to the plan of heaven. I look again through the passage and see how much Jesus desired them to know Him as solely sufficient, all-satisfying, all-powerful and all consuming. He was watching over them – praying on their behalf – desiring their hearts to understand <i>His</i> purpose, and strengthening their understanding of <i>His</i> vision. <span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><b>We cannot practice true discipleship unless we have a right understanding of Who it is we follow</b></span><span style="color: #990000;">. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">In the tarried nights in which I find myself straining at the oars, wondering why He is waiting until the fourth watch of the night to walk by, I can think of Peter, James, and John. And I look to the mountains where I know He is, interceding on my behalf and wholly provisional. The darkness will not remain. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Of ORU...<br />
<br />
I pry my eyes away from the sectioned and wooden floor, and am greeted with the all too familiar plethora of colored flags and gleaming metal pipes that hold in a continuous stretching mode towards the ceiling. The music moves my feet but not my spirit; my emotions but not my heart. A tiny chisel taps in rhythm coloring the background of my words in song, hardly cracking the top layer of my icy soul and creating tiny bits of snowy dust. A humbling occupation for an almighty king, don't you think?<br />
<br />
Sometimes I wish we were all blind. And sometimes I think we are. The girl beside me displays clenched eye lids, so tight aging wrinkles form across their surface and lashes disappear inside the fold. Her teeth grind as an unknown tongue seeps through them, variating in tone and volume. I study her face so struck with sorrow, anger, fear, regret perhaps, and I wonder if when opened, they will reveal anything at all. And although she of different color holds my hand and sings out strong, although the instruments play sweetly serenading my senses, and although the words of man in suit ring out in passionate song, my heart is hard and tired. My hands feel heavy and refuse to rise as I am called to do so. My eyes are dry though I try to cry, and conveniently the echoing noise of the crowd drowns my attempt. The wooden pews saw-dusty smell along with the musty aroma of age old Bible pages forces me to wonder, do I mind that typical scent of Sunday? Or have I simply submitted myself into acceptance, as it seems to not bother those around me? They open their arms as if welcoming it into the core of their being. Prayers are pealed aloud, crescendowing in volume and depth. It’s true. They did not move me. Their perfect fire annoyed me. And I could not find him anywhere. I want to trust him, but I’m losing steam. They take their lives and lay them down - sinners ransomed from the fall. I thank him like I do a gentleman holding open a door, but not like a daughter thanks a father for a precious and coveted necklace of pearls. And I cry alone, not from joy. But really, don’t we all? I see him hang there above - his face torn with grief, eyebrows dipped inward - still looking better than I. But no one is looking at him, they all see the unseen. I still have never seen him, and some days, I don’t love him at all. Forgive me this sin.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<i> <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>10/09/2003<o:p></o:p></i></span>Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-47904955080458066632012-02-13T12:28:00.001-08:002013-05-01T10:31:09.139-07:00IncongruencyHe lingers<br />
He calls me like a maniacal lover, waiting at the tide of his beloved<br />
But she drowned long ago in its waves<br />
<br />
He won't relent<br />
in the midnight he calls to me<br />
and when I open my eyes to silence and solitude<br />
there I ache for him<br />
<br />
Why do I ache at all?<br />
<br />
could it be he never took my hand<br />
could it be he never lead me to the grave<br />
<br />
where the sheets were stained and my hands were chained<br />
behind that great stone<br />
could it be your mercy's flawed -- in need<br />
of restoration<br />
a poet's pen<br />
<br />
could it be we are really bigger than him?<br />
still, you won't relent<br />
<br />
soaked in your casket<br />
I, clenching fists at the bestial stares<br />
meet eyes far too allied<br />
They which wonder at a wondrous love<br />
too embittered to conceive<br />
<br />
So I burn the pulpit and strip the robes<br />
I pull their tongues out with stones<br />
I beat with sanity<br />
mock with strain<br />
to help reveal their paltry refrain<br />
<br />
But you call my name<br />
and you call my name<br />
still you call my name<br />
<br />
So could it be he never took my hand<br />
could it be he never lead me to the grave<br />
<br />
where the sheets were stained and my hands were chained<br />
behind that great stone<br />
could it be your mercy's flawed -- in need<br />
of restoration<br />
a poet's pen<br />
<br />
could it be we are really bigger than him<br />
...still, you won't relent<br />
<br />
and i ache<br />
i ache for you<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eXdhZUQv3BM/TzBi8J4MzCI/AAAAAAAAAEY/euoYmMKBjFg/s1600/present3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eXdhZUQv3BM/TzBi8J4MzCI/AAAAAAAAAEY/euoYmMKBjFg/s320/present3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-58298779774806406492012-01-28T12:17:00.001-08:002012-08-15T11:58:42.042-07:00Baby Shoes<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--QfARyezClQ/UCvxXZQQROI/AAAAAAAAAHE/i8PYu0HCNwI/s1600/Baby-Feet-Prints.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--QfARyezClQ/UCvxXZQQROI/AAAAAAAAAHE/i8PYu0HCNwI/s1600/Baby-Feet-Prints.jpg" /></a></div>
I'm sitting here eating an entire block of cheese on my lunch at work. Such an activity is frowned upon by my healthier colleagues, so I subconsciously rationalize with the idea that since this particular flavor was purchased from the more sophisticated and expensive section of the grocery store, it must equate some level of dietary fiber. It also happens to be the only thing I feel like putting into my stomach. Lately I've developed a strong taste for corn dogs, black coffee, eggs (any style, so long as there is cheese involved), ice (weird?), meatball subway sandwiches (ok, these have always been a passion), and grapefruit. These cravings, along with a "supernatural ability to sleep all hours of the day" (as Josh puts it), eventually drew me to the isle in Fred Meyer entitled "Feminine Hygiene". There I discovered a plethora of over-priced pregnancy tests. Skimming the brands I was surprised that a "Pregnant" / "Not Pregnant" result window was $5-$10 more than a simple two-lines. Our apparent stupidity as Americans is certainly capitalized on by all streams of business. I made the profound move of taking the simple lined-result-version, believing I had somehow stuck a thorn in the side of Capital America (my arrogant perception of influence never ceases to exaggerate itself). After taking the test that afternoon, I stepped into the shower, assuming the result would be negative as it had in the past. It wasn't that we had been trying for a baby. Certainly when anyone asked when “our family” would begin I would scoff and reply with something like “Oh, life is moving a little too fast right now”… But the truth was, about two months into our 5<sup>th </sup>year of marriage a sort of ache had developed inside of me. And the aching was unfamiliar, like a bruise on the inside that you can’t quite situate yourself well-enough to avoid. Every time I ate or drank, a portion of what I took in seemed to go down into an empty pit inside. Each day I wondered when this “hole” was tunneled without my knowledge and why it remained so increasingly dissatisfied. Watching my friends and family raise babies (a majority of them married <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">after</i> Josh and I) had always been a joy. But letting go of those outrageously chubby faces and handing them back to their parents was getting more and more difficult. I couldn't help but wonder, why hadn't it <i>accidentally </i>occurred? Josh and I tend to do a number of extraordinary things on accident. I'm a highly forgetful person and a number of pills had been missed on sporadic occasions in the past. What was wrong with me? Was I wasting our finances on birth control all the while unaware of my inability to conceive? We could be putting that money toward adopting! Diving into Google's abyss offered minimal reassurance. Countless tales of women unable to have a child flooded the pages in front of me. I found a thousand testimonies of "inhospitable wombs" tied to my birth control, adhd-medication, sugar-intake, even the led paint plastered on the walls of our 1920's home. I even found myself googling the area of Singapore I was born in and scouring Wikipedia for insight into chemicals I may have been exposed to. All of these anxieties inevitably lead to conversations of an unpleasant nature with Josh. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
"What if we can't have kids?" I say randomly as we’re driving to work together.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
"Why would you say that?" He replies (with a sort of casualty I find abominable). </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
"Why WOULDN'T you say that?? Do you SEE a baby here??! No."</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The perplexity on my husband's face is one I want to believe many men have mimicked. No woman wants to be the <i>only</i> outrageous, irrational, ticking-time-bomb that at times, she is. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
"Shannon, we have plenty of time for that. Wait, did your Mom say something to you?"</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I'm all clenched in my responses now; "So it’s that you hate my family, huh? You've been holding back all these years...do you know how hard it is for women to conceive after 30?? Do you even care??!"...</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The poor man is between a rock and a hard place at this point. If he doesn't learn to fly quickly, he may as well start digging. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
"Um, no. No, that isn’t it at all. Maybe we can talk about it in a year...how about a year? ..." </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The "next year" proposal didn't go over well at first, but we finally agreed this past Fall that waiting a little further into my masters program was most likely the best solution. The catch was that I was going to go off of birth control in the mean time and other means of "protection" would be necessary, (since according to Google, hormone pills cause babies to be born without eyes....among other things).</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The plan was set. November was our first month without birth control. Amidst the stress of the holiday season however, neither one of us were very careful or thoughtful in the moments we needed to be (when is <i>anyone</i>??). </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
So there I was, getting into the shower, leaving the test to develop on the bathroom tile. I went for the shampoo then stopped. "I should just check..." I thought to myself. Lo and behold, two lines revealed themselves, one slightly faded. I jumped up and down. Then I cried. Then I prayed. Usually the order of things. </div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I needed to get my mind off of things as I brainstormed a creative way to break the news to Josh. Someone once told me exercise helps with this sort of thing. So I went for a run. And I hate to admit this (to my own generation in particular), but as the baby weighed heavy on my mind, there was a clear transition in which my arms began to swing forward, keeping their 90-degree angle and closed fists as if to weakly "put up dukes" to an invisible foe. My stride changed as well -- my hips swayed in an awkward fashion, as though I was 50lbs overweight and the rest of my body was at the mercy of their rhythm. "It’s happening" I thought to myself. I'm becoming a mom. Next thing you know I'll be purchasing pants so hiked they force my butt into the hideous, non-shape that so famously defined the term "mom jeans". My jokes will become more dignified and less funny. I will either lose the ability to use a straightener or my hair will simply become immune to its heat. Oh Lord, I think my cheeks are falling…</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The days that followed were anxious and long. In an effort to continue stalling, I settled on telling the Peet’s Coffee barista, grocery attendant, gas-station attendee, New Seasons ramen noodle-guy, the crew on an advertisement I was cast in recently, and my sister. That was all sufficient enough until I could come up with a decent “revealing scheme” for Josh. With Christmas a day behind us it seemed only fitting to bring up a “belated present” to him. Though my handwriting (shaking as it was) made the card difficult for him to read, and at one point, he <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">does</i> set it on fire, he manages to get into the tiny box of running shoes and give me the reaction I so wanted to capture.<br />
<br />
For my sweet husband and all the patience you give me daily…enjoy.:)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 12pt 0in 10pt -0.75pt; vertical-align: top;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: #333333; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 8.5pt;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D1RkZ9-iQP_0%26feature%3Dyoutu.be&h=RAQH2bxwX" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RkZ9-iQP_0&feature=youtu.be</span></a></span></div>
Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-19276777434834033552012-01-20T22:54:00.001-08:002012-04-14T17:03:44.877-07:00Apperception<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">It is a terrible thing to discover that you are, in fact, the villain in your own story. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">I began the day by having entirely too much champagne in my mimosa at the family breakfast. Handling any probing and condemnatory comments was much easier this way. Verbal sewage then began to spew from my lips in the car on the way to my husbands' race in Salem. I had nothing positive to say, but didn't I "deserve" to say it?? Passing a homeless man on the street I simmered in the “disappointment” that the man <i>I </i>married happened to be looking at the new bike store just opened on the opposite side of the street. He <i>would </i>be so hard-of-heart -- not even stopping to give the man our spare change. A visit to the grocery store left us arguing. I <i>needed</i> a number of items he questioned incessantly. Rolling my eyes at our back door, I impatiently tapped my foot. “How hard is it to find the right key?!” Vehemently, the words flow off my tongue. That evening I glare at the football game clouding the TV screen when we hadn’t yet reviewed our Home Group Bible Study. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">“How am I supposed to 'submit', Lord? Do you SEE what I have to put up with??!” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">And He gently responds, “Do <i>you</i>?”</span></div>Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-32729376907922241812012-01-15T02:03:00.001-08:002012-05-02T10:41:01.808-07:00The Creature<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: center;">
<u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Creature<o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10pt;">A journal-response to the Epistle of Hebrews</span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10pt;">I can feel the temperature fall as daylight's steady descent against the window pane completes. Adjusting my eyes I turn the handle and switch the lock. Then I hear it; a low, advancing growl from a corner in the room. I raise my eyes in hesitance to unveil the unknown and meet the gaze of my abhorrence. The creature's skin is stretched tightly between four large talons, and its legs have sporadically growing hairs that increase in length, growing thick at a protruded spine. The teeth are showing, broad and rigid with lips too emaciated to conceal them. A large tongue laps hungrily at its open gate. One eye is swollen shut while the other peers blackly through a thin aperture. The ears of the animal spear upward, skittish and tense. Every breath expands a crooked ribcage to the point of breaking. It has not veered its gaze and focuses on me intensely. Assembling my courage I speak to it: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10pt;">“Who are you?” The creature adjusts without loosing its stare, massaging the floor slowly and causing grooves to form in the wood. <br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Do you not know?”</i> it replies in a deep, entrancing voice, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Or is it only that you now fear my presence?"</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10pt;">"You are not an enemy I've known", I rebuttal, watching it sway forward slightly and glean with a sort of hunger, un-purposed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10pt;">It responds, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">"Oh but I know you. Since the beginning I have studied your face. It was long ago when you first came to me. Your intrigue was lofty and my mouth whispered assurance. I gathered you up and poured out my poison. You took it gladly; you took it often. There was rarely a night you did not call upon me. Like an addict entranced, you knew I was able. With me, your name remained intact and your dignity went unscathed. I kept out the daylight and hid you from the mirror. My breath was cold as the winter, and your wounds remained frozen. In medicating you, day and night, your once fragile heart grew its shell, beating less often. However, not an ounce of your precious blood was lost. There was never a time your gratefulness to me was voiced but your company was relentless, and that was enough. I have lived here knotted in your midst for years, and now you ask for my name?”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10pt;">“No!” I exclaim, pressing back against fear and bewilderment. “How can this be? I have never seen or known the evil of your presence! How did you come to me? What disturbing event has brought you here now?!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10pt;">The creature only grins, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Child you are confused. The room in which you now stand was not always your own. When you first came to me our visit was brief, and months passed before another came. But soon you began to frequent my door. Afternoons became evenings and evenings became nights. You left items you were sure to miss. They became heavy – a burden to carry, and so remained in my care. My company was more sufferable than returning home and thus, my adoption into your life more self-endorsed than<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> all</b> else. Your seat is worn and your bed is made. Come and sleep Child. You are home.” </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10pt;">“You must tell me your name!” I cry aloud in disillusionment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10pt;">"My name? My name is <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Indifference</b>.” <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7473018067370278548.post-46248281137586074012012-01-01T14:00:00.000-08:002013-05-01T10:31:50.386-07:00Enough<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix">
<div>
I am walking I am treading I am climbing this hill<br />
I am facing I am glancing I am wishing with will<br />
I am striving I am staging I am tired of tire<br />
I am fighting I am biting this old tongue made of fire<br />
You're upon me and I'm holding fast to what I'll never be<br />
Surrounded by the cloud of witnesses who cannot see<br />
And I'm called upon to stand the trial asking all of me<br />
Who I am with who I was with who I hope will set me free<br />
<br />
I was born here to beguile,<br />
I was born here to believe<br />
Made for to interpret and created to conceive<br />
I can feel the full eruption long advancing any heat<br />
I'm an alter made for beauty, still preserved and still elite<br />
<br />
The heavy weight of all my knowledge reinforces home<br />
It cradles me, indulges me, and carries forth my song<br />
And you in your unfortunately withered, tarnished throng<br />
Will benefit from my attainment, setting right your wrong<br />
<br />
Yet, you're upon me and I'm seeing what I'll never hope to be<br />
Surrounded by the cloud of witnesses who cannot see<br />
And I'm called upon to stand the trial asking all of me<br />
Who I am with who I was with who I hope will set me free <br />
<br />
Depleted of my hunger I stand still unresolved<br />
To run into a savior's promised hand beneath my fall<br />
As the heart beseeches pleasure I find within your call<br />
The love that I now lack and the heavens I have stalled<br />
<br />
I am walking I am treading I am climbing this hill<br />
Please forgive my plated merit you alone can hope to fill<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xaqAhhYuyJE/UYFPAs8raHI/AAAAAAAAASw/M5K-q_Fw_ZY/s1600/IMG_3828.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xaqAhhYuyJE/UYFPAs8raHI/AAAAAAAAASw/M5K-q_Fw_ZY/s320/IMG_3828.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Shannon Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06101110356909215578noreply@blogger.com0