Saturday, April 28, 2007
(By the way, I'm so glad you're all my friends!)
You can find my other blogs here:
Monday, April 23, 2007
(1)Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children (2) and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
My two sons are about as alike as night and day. They bear a physical family resemblance, but their personalities are worlds apart. Both of them are grown men now, but as very young boys, they did share one strong personality trait.
They wanted to be like their Daddy.
Even as toddlers, they’d pull on my husband’s boots – which struck them about hip high – and strut around the house trying to walk just like him. I remember laughing behind my hand when I’d hear words and expressions roll off their tongues that were so much like their Dad, it was uncanny. They were little clones of the one man who stood tallest in their eyes.
My husband loves to sing along with the radio - and the louder, the better. Long before my oldest son was old enough to have a personal preference as to music genres, he knew dozens of country western songs word for word … because Daddy did. And he'd belt them out at the top of his lungs, just like he heard his father do. At that time in his life, his preference was whatever Daddy liked.
At times it was absolutely hilarious. But nothing could have made my husband prouder. Watching his sons mimic his every action, word, and expression brought him tremendous joy.
We too often forget that our heavenly Daddy derives the same kind of pleasure when His children strive to be like Him. When we stretch ourselves to walk in His footsteps, it makes Him proud. When His words come out of our mouths, His heart swells with love. When our likes and dislikes reflect His own, His eyes light up with joy and gladness.
And when we show love to one another, our Father basks in that glory. He breathes it in like a heady aroma. He wears it like a sweet perfume.
When I stumble around in shoes too big for me, trying my best to be like my heavenly Father (because, after all, there’s no one else quite like Him!), he turns to the angels with an ear-to-ear grin and brags, “That’s my daughter!” When my actions glorify Him, he tells them, “That one’s mine! Don’t you think she looks like Me?”
Oh, how I hope I do!
Father, let it be so! I know I’m a work-in-progress, but as I become what You’re making of me, I pray that You are reflected in my words and deeds. Mold me in Your image, Lord. I want to be so much like You, the world can’t tell us apart! I ask it in Jesus' name. Amen
(To purchase the stained glass window panel shown above: http://www.goldleafcrafters.com/stores.php/tiffanyexclusively/items/374/)
Saturday, April 21, 2007
I know I’m not the only person who has this problem. It's a human condition. Try to cut yourself off from anything, be it food, a bad habit, or a spiritual stumblingblock, and suddenly temptation rears its ugly head around every corner.
“I will not gossip - ever again.” Two minutes later the phone rings and your best friend dumps an earful of the juiciest gossip you’ve heard all year. That most unruly of all members fights like a trapped tiger to be let loose!
“I will make time to pray every day.” Before you’ve completed the sentence, your world starts spinning twice as fast. Everyone you know and his or her cousin wants a piece of you. You suddenly have more appointments, more phone calls, more visitors, more chores than you ever thought possible.
“I will write at least one chapter every day this month.” Sure you will. Make a statement like that and your inbox is suddenly flooded with e-mails; someone tells you about an awesome online word game you just have to try; your creative mind takes an unplanned vacation; and every person you’ve ever given your phone number to chooses this month to use it.
Betcha thought I was going to wind this up with some truly profound solution.
Uh-uh. I was hoping you’d have one.
Romans 7:21 - I find then a law, that, when I would do good, evil is present with me.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Yeah, the tears tore at my heart, too, but ... puh-leeze! How many more worthy singers had to go while the kid stayed? Bless his sweet little heart - and I do believe he is a sweet boy, but he really cannot sing well enough to be on American Idol. I can't imagine how he managed to get past the initial auditions. What was up with that?
I found it hard to believe LaKisha was standing there in the bottom three while Chris made it to the safe side of the stage. Come on, America, get with the game!
Melinda is my personal favorite. I love her sweet personality, and (sorry, Simon, I usually think you're right on target, but ...) I love that she always seems so surprised when the judges brag her up. It's that very humbleness that makes her such a winner - well, that and her phenomenal voice. Wow. Now there's a contestant who is truly star material!
God bless Sanjaya - I truly hope he succeeds and becomes whatever he wants to be. But I'm glad he's off AI ... in all fairness to the contestants who really deserve to be there.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
I am from farm labor camp houses, goathead patches, and running from shade to shade down blistering hot country roads.
I am from cotton fields, oleander bushes, miles and miles of grape vineyards; from a neighborhood built for the poor who had no idea that’s what they were.
I am from black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day for good luck, from a Granny named George with a twin sister named Jim, and from Gramps the Texas Ranger who was scalped by the Indians.
I am from fundamentalists and farmers and it’s-all-about-family.
From “babies come from butterflies” and “God is love” and “You can be whatever you want to be.”
I am from holyrollers and tongue talkers and singing and shouting and worshipping God.
I'm from California and Texas, Irish leas and Cherokee teepees, hot sauce fried chicken and tomato sauce macaroni.
From a grandfather who wore a badge, a grandmother who bore seven children and outlived all but three, and a mother who married at 14, left her home and and family and traveled across the country to raise eight kids on a budget much thinner than a shoestring.
I am from a hodgepodge of photos – not all of which can be identified – jumbled up in a cardboard box, from big family Bibles stuffed with diplomas, dried flowers and obituaries, from Zane Grey and Louis Lamour, from lots of family and love and laughter and wonderful memories to last a lifetime.
If you like this post and would like to create your own "Where I'm From" essay, click here.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Desiree Jacobs’ beloved father has been murdered, but the beautiful museum security expert has little time to wallow in her sorrow. Handsome FBI agent Tony Lucano is set on proving her deceased father an art thief. Desiree is every bit as determined to prove his innocence.
But the further she delves into her father’s affairs, the more it looks like the agent could be right – especially when her father’s secret codes lead her to a warehouse container full of stolen paintings. Determined to avoid further sullying of her father’s name, Desiree sets out to secretly return the priceless pieces of art.
Why would a man of integrity like Hiram Jacobs be involved in an art theft ring? Desiree means to find out, but will her probing open a Pandora’s Box of secrets she’d rather not know? Danger lurks around every corner, and just when she thinks things can get no worse, suspicion falls on the person closest to her. Now she’s forced to turn to her nemesis –FBI guy Lucano – for assistance and protection.
Reluctant Burglar is a masterpiece of intrigue and romance. This tightly written tale, spiced with the author’s special brand of humor, keeps the reader flipping those pages until the stunning finale comes hurtling in right out of left field. A genuine work of art …
Reviewed by Delia Latham