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	<title>The Real Storie Weblog &#187; Faith</title>
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		<title>The Real Storie Weblog &#187; Faith</title>
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		<title>He came for us&#8230;and He continues to persue us</title>
		<link>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/10/04/he-came-for-usand-he-continues-to-persue-us/</link>
		<comments>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/10/04/he-came-for-usand-he-continues-to-persue-us/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 04 Oct 2008 16:09:59 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>therealstorie</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Faith]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[community]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[love]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/?p=171</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[As I sat down at the piano to put music to the lyrics,  a few changes emerged.
The main truth being emphasized that He captures our hearts&#8230;..to set them free!!!
 
You illuminate the hollows in my soul
with the penetrating light of your truth
you breathe&#8230;.
a gentle breath that warms me from within
it is healing and strangely I feel safe
it beckons my [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=therealstorie.wordpress.com&blog=1985054&post=171&subd=therealstorie&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p>As I sat down at the piano to put music to the lyrics,  a few changes emerged.</p>
<p>The main truth being emphasized that He captures our hearts&#8230;..to set them free!!!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You illuminate the hollows in my soul</p>
<p>with the penetrating light of your truth</p>
<p>you breathe&#8230;.</p>
<p>a gentle breath that warms me from within</p>
<p>it is healing and strangely I feel safe</p>
<p>it beckons my heart and soul</p>
<p>to find rest in your strong arms</p>
<p>You have persued me</p>
<p>for as long as I can remember</p>
<p>You proclaim that I am your treasure&#8230;.</p>
<p>and that you will come for me again <strong>for me</strong></p>
<p><strong>as long as it takes</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p>You break through the <strong>dungeon</strong> doors  </p>
<p>that have held my thoughts captive</p>
<p>unraveling the lies that have become  part of the fabric,</p>
<p><strong>one at a time:</strong></p>
<p><strong></strong></p>
<p>strands of rejection <strong>have left me alone over and over</strong></p>
<p>cords of abandon <strong>have silenced me</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p>In my confinement You came for me</p>
<p><strong>to capture my heart</strong></p>
<p><strong>to set it free</strong></p>
<p><strong>just to be</strong></p>
<p><strong>me</strong></p>
<p>You continue to persue me</p>
<p>to remind me of your love</p>
<p>to show me something more</p>
<p>Capture me again, oh God</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nothing can seperate us from the love of God&#8230;..</p>
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		<link>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/09/06/164/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 06 Sep 2008 06:51:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>therealstorie</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Faith]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[ 
So, I twisted my ankle, yet again, and have been laid up a bit for the past week.  No, I wasn&#8217;t bungie jumping, or sky-diving.  I slipped on water on the kitchen floor.  Off to the Drs office for xrays.  No brake, just a severe spraign.  And not as bad as the last one 2 [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=therealstorie.wordpress.com&blog=1985054&post=164&subd=therealstorie&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p> <a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/3d/Wedding_rings.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Image:Wedding_rings.jpg&amp;h=900&amp;w=1200&amp;sz=1515&amp;hl=en&amp;start=4&amp;usg=__EynUgDrv6YMwBiWPUGshkmXvv14=&amp;tbnid=TsFrn4LvNN2SbM:&amp;tbnh=113&amp;tbnw=150&amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dwedding%2Brings%26gbv%3D2%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG"></a></p>
<p>So, I twisted my ankle, yet again, and have been laid up a bit for the past week.  No, I wasn&#8217;t bungie jumping, or sky-diving.  I slipped on water on the kitchen floor.  Off to the Drs office for xrays.  No brake, just a severe spraign.  And not as bad as the last one 2 years ago, that resulted in 8 weeks of PT.</p>
<p>The day before I was sitting on my couch with my leg elevated, really quite mad about everything.  I wish I could say that I was singing praises to God, and just so thankful for this time down.  But no.  I was frustrated.  I was impatient.  I like to do things myself.  I don&#8217;t want to run on other&#8217;s time clocks.</p>
<p>My sweet husband was trying to give me a pep talk about how I could still do so much.  that is was &#8220;just an ankle&#8221;  I was venting that I couldn&#8217;t do this, couldn&#8217;t do that&#8230;yadayada ya da&#8230;.</p>
<p>&#8220;I just want to go for a run!!&#8221; I burst out in frustration.</p>
<p>So you know what he did?  He pumped up my tahiti and put it into the pool.  He tied it to one end of the pool, helped me get in, and handed me the paddle.   </p>
<p>You should of seen it&#8230;I was paddling like mad.  I was talking it over with God that sometimes this is exactly how I feel:  Like I work so hard, and get nowhere!!  After about 20 minutes, I lay back in the tahiti and sunned myself.  I did feel better.</p>
<p>The next day I began to thank God for what I had.  Because, truly, I have so much.</p>
<p>I had a wedding to attend a few days later.  I managed to hobble around on my crutches.  But I was a little uneasy because I had to have my daughters do everything for me.  I didn&#8217;t get to dance, and I couldn&#8217;t very easily mingle.  I felt kind of useless.</p>
<p>Then there came the daddy-daughter dance. It stirred emotions deep within me so much that I had to get up and go give the mother of the bride (a dear long-time friend of mine) a hug.</p>
<p>As we were hugging, she whispered in my ear, &#8220;We wouldn&#8217;t be here as a family, if it weren&#8217;t for how God used you in our lives.&#8221;</p>
<p>In that very moment, I was brought to my knees in humility.  Tears filled my eyes as we embraced eachother.  Later that night, the father of the bride, also a dear friend of my husband and myself, approached me to say thank you.</p>
<p>Little did I know that in that season 10 years prior would God use me to uplift this couple in one of the most difficult challenges of their marraige.</p>
<p>If he can use me, he can use any of us that are willing to be used and motivated by LOVE.</p>
<p><a href="http://actionsspeakloudest.blogspot.com/2008/08/choices.html"></a></p>
<p>We can all make a difference, one moment, one day, one person, one couple, one child, at a time.</p>
<p> Do you believe that your life can make a difference?</p>
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		<title>Relationship vs. Religion</title>
		<link>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/07/24/relationship-vs-religion/</link>
		<comments>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/07/24/relationship-vs-religion/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 24 Jul 2008 04:48:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>therealstorie</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Faith]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/?p=132</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[What does it mean to you?
I believe that there is a big difference between the two.  If you were to have raised me in RELIGION, I may have rejected it. 
 But relationship is a whole other ball park. 
I appreciate the study of any subject.  But it can be lifeless without the relational part.
How do you feel about [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=therealstorie.wordpress.com&blog=1985054&post=132&subd=therealstorie&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p>What does it mean to you?</p>
<p>I believe that there is a big difference between the two.  If you were to have raised me in RELIGION, I may have rejected it. </p>
<p> But relationship is a whole other ball park. </p>
<p>I appreciate the study of any subject.  But it can be lifeless without the relational part.</p>
<p>How do you feel about this?</p>
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		<title>you want me to do what?</title>
		<link>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/07/15/you-want-me-to-do-what/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jul 2008 03:37:41 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>therealstorie</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[
It was a beautiful fall morning.  I was bustling around getting ready for work.
One of my precious co-workers had been on my heart that morning.   We did not have much contact with each other through out the day, but we truly had a shared heart for people, for the patients that walked in and out of [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=therealstorie.wordpress.com&blog=1985054&post=122&subd=therealstorie&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p><a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://newark1.com/hello/1766634/1024/lily-2005.07.06-00.41.33.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=http://newark1.com/2005/07/digital-luddite.html&amp;h=1024&amp;w=820&amp;sz=92&amp;hl=en&amp;start=7&amp;tbnid=Nnor4WMFhdD6TM:&amp;tbnh=150&amp;tbnw=120&amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Deaster%2Blily%26gbv%3D2%26hl%3Den"><img style="border:1px solid;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:Nnor4WMFhdD6TM:http://newark1.com/hello/1766634/1024/lily-2005.07.06-00.41.33.jpg" alt="" width="150" height="156" /></a></p>
<p>It was a beautiful fall morning.  I was bustling around getting ready for work.</p>
<p>One of my precious co-workers had been on my heart that morning.   We did not have much contact with each other through out the day, but we truly had a shared heart for people, for the patients that walked in and out of our office and  for eachother, as human beings.</p>
<p>I was hurrying to get out the door, and that still small voice from within came&#8230;..</p>
<p>&#8220;<em>take her the lily&#8221;</em></p>
<p><em></em></p>
<p><em>You&#8217;ve got to be joking, I thought.</em>  I had a lily that had been given to me on Easter day, sitting in my shaded flower bed, waiting to be planted.  It was in horrible condition&#8230;.yellowed, wilting leaves<em>&#8230;.</em></p>
<p>scraggly is the word that sums it up.</p>
<p>I walked out onto my deck, mumbling to God, What????</p>
<p>When I looked down on the plant, I thought, &#8216;no way&#8217;.  I couldn&#8217;t do it.</p>
<p>I looked a little closer at it.  one tiny green bud&#8230;.one inch long.</p>
<p>hmmm&#8230;..</p>
<p>Easter lilies naturally bloom in the fall.  But they are force-bloomed for Easter.  I have read that it is a gift if they bloom again the follwoing season.  However, I did not know this then.  </p>
<p>Basically, it is unusual for them to bloom twice in one year&#8230;</p>
<p> </p>
<p>and then, I heard this echoing in my heart,</p>
<p><em>&#8220;tell her that when the flower blooms, the fragrance that comes from the flower is how I see her.&#8221;</em></p>
<p><em>OK, God.  don&#8217;t think can do that.  I mean, WHAT IF if doesn&#8217;t bloom.  WHAT IF that little thing shrivels up and falls off?</em></p>
<p>I would SO look like a nut! </p>
<p>But that pressing on my heart would not leave&#8230;.</p>
<p><em>OK, OK&#8230;..God, I will do it&#8230;</em></p>
<p>The least could do is wrap it up in a pretty cotton dish towel and tie it with ribbon.</p>
<p>I was really so embarrassed.</p>
<p>I procrastinated the entire day giving it to her&#8230;.</p>
<p>As we were walking out to our cars, I just got it out in the open, gave it to her, and said, (practically under my breath)</p>
<p>&#8220;When this blooms, the fragrance that comes from it&#8230;&#8230;that is how God sees you&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p>You should have seen the look on her face when I handed it to her&#8230;..</p>
<p>I thought OM-Gosh, &#8230;&#8230;and what if it dies?  Then what God? </p>
<p>I just prayed on the entire way home.</p>
<p>In the weeks to follow,  I didn&#8217;t have the courage to ask her &#8220;so, how is that little plant coming along?&#8221;" </p>
<p>I was too afraid of the answer.</p>
<p>and then one day, about 3 weeks later, she came to work and said, to me, &#8220;You won&#8217;t believe it.  The  plant you gave me bloomed&#8230;..the fragrance has filled my kitchen, living room, and dining room..the bloom is HUGE.&#8221;</p>
<p>I did not believe her.  &#8220;How big?&#8221;</p>
<p>She showed me with her hands&#8230;.basically the opening of the flower was like the size of a small volleyball.   She even brought in a picture of it to work to show me, as well as a beautiful poem that she wrote to God about how he touched her through this.</p>
<p>I was the recipient of  something so beautiful and personal between her and God&#8230;.It was really humbling&#8230;&#8230;..and my faith was strengthened.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>a few years later, I heard her sharing this story to a group of women.  She looked at me and said,</p>
<p><em>&#8220;you know that t-towel you wrapped it up in?  I have that hanging at my laundry sink.  Whenever I wash an dry there, I say a prayer for you.&#8221;</em></p>
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		<title>Love For a Perfect Stranger</title>
		<link>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/07/10/love-for-a-perfect-stranger/</link>
		<comments>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/07/10/love-for-a-perfect-stranger/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 10 Jul 2008 03:03:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>therealstorie</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Faith]]></category>
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I had just finished with my last patient before the lunch hour.  I grabbed a quick snack and drink of water.   As I set up for my next patient, I prayed, as I usually did. 
instruments in their right places?  check&#8230;
vitamin E ointment for their lips?  check&#8230;
I was set to go.
The vitamin E ointment was key&#8230;.I [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=therealstorie.wordpress.com&blog=1985054&post=118&subd=therealstorie&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p><img src="http://www.infed.org/images/illustrations/coffee_journal_mills1983-flickr_attrib_noderivs.jpg" alt="" width="265" height="246" /></p>
<p>I had just finished with my last patient before the lunch hour.  I grabbed a quick snack and drink of water.   As I set up for my next patient, I prayed, as I usually did. </p>
<p>instruments in their right places?  check&#8230;</p>
<p>vitamin E ointment for their lips?  check&#8230;</p>
<p>I was set to go.</p>
<p>The vitamin E ointment was key&#8230;.I had a practice since hygiene school of offering vitamin E ointment on the corners of their mouth while having their teeth cleaned.  Most always accepted.</p>
<p>As I walked my next patient back to the treatment area, I introduced myself.  He was quiet and reserved.  I was good at making conversation with people that did not want to be at the dental office.</p>
<p> I set him in the chair, I leaned him back just slightly to say my hello&#8217;s and review Health History.  I saw a sober look in his countenance.  I knew that there were troubled waters in his soul.</p>
<p>I don&#8217;t know when, and I don&#8217;t know how, but through the course of our one small hour together he began to tell me about his wife.</p>
<p>She was beautiful.  She was his soul-mate.  They did everything together.  She understood him.  He loved her more than life.  </p>
<p>and then he told me that very, very recently&#8230;&#8230;she had died.</p>
<p>My heart sank.  I glanced at his health history for birthdate, knowing that he was no older than me.</p>
<p>32.</p>
<p>widower at 32.  Lost.  broken.  wounded.  shattered&#8230;..beyond sad&#8230;..no words to express&#8230;&#8230;.</p>
<p>Could I identify?</p>
<p>no.</p>
<p>I didn&#8217;t even know what to say.  But like so many others, he opened up to me, and probably later, wondered why he had.</p>
<p>I said all that I knew to, &#8221; I am so sorry.&#8221;</p>
<p>I excused myself to go get the Doctor for the exam.  I had a few brief minutes, so I looked up 2 scriptures for him that I hoped would be of some comfort.</p>
<p>I wrote them on a piece of paper, and at the same time, scrawled his name in the back of my journal, of which I kept a prayer list.</p>
<p>The Doctor came and did his exam.  Afterward, I handed him the note with the scriptures and said, &#8220;I wrote these down for you.  I want you to know that I will be praying for you.  I am so sorry for your loss.  I pray that God will bring you comfort and peace.&#8221;</p>
<p>We looked at eachother.  Our eyes exchanged a knowing glance as I approached the receptionist&#8217;s desk.</p>
<p>That was the last time I saw him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>4 years later&#8230;..</p>
<p><strong>Medford Fire Department</strong></p>
<p>Sean&#8217;s first month as a Fire Fighter with Medford Fire&#8230;&#8230;</p>
<p>The girls and I scurried around the kitchen making bbq pork ribs, home made bread sticks, salad, and homemade blackberry cobbler.</p>
<p>The table was set&#8230;.we had met Sean&#8217;s new Captain, and hose-man.</p>
<p>We had a very nice dinner exchanging cordial conversation.</p>
<p>My girls were so on that night, as little as they were&#8230;trying to impress.</p>
<p>They cleared the table, did the dishes, made coffee, and served the dessert.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Sean, Captain John and I were at the table talking.</p>
<p>I listened closely as Captain John told me about his son-in-law that had lost his wife 4 years prior.</p>
<p>As he was telling this story, I had to stop him and ask him the name of his son-in-law.</p>
<p>It was the same man I had met 4 years prior.</p>
<p>He went on to tell me that he had just remarried, and that they were witness to God&#8217;s healing power in His life&#8230;that He did find love again, and that he was doing very well.</p>
<p>my heart sighed a deep breath as I was reminded that not only does God hear our prayers, but in this case, He allowed me see the outcome.</p>
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		<title>He understands&#8230;.</title>
		<link>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/07/01/he-understands/</link>
		<comments>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/07/01/he-understands/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jul 2008 23:59:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>therealstorie</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Faith]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[ 
 
I dedicate this today to my precious friend Pearl&#8230;..my friend and sister
unless a seed falls to the ground and dies&#8230;.it cannot bring forth life&#8230;&#8230;.and cannot bear fruit~paraphrased by Storie:&#8212;)
 

Seed cast away on the garden floor
as it lay in the dark wondering&#8230;.
no promise of life it appears to the seed
as it lay in the dark
will it [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=therealstorie.wordpress.com&blog=1985054&post=108&subd=therealstorie&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p> </p>
<p> <img style="cursor:pointer;" src="http://artfiles.art.com/images/-/Gustav-Klimt/Death-and-Life-1911-detail-Print-C10044443.jpeg" border="0" alt="" width="315" height="450" /></p>
<p>I dedicate this today to my precious friend Pearl&#8230;..my friend and sister</p>
<p><em>unless a seed falls to the ground and dies&#8230;.it cannot bring forth life&#8230;&#8230;.and cannot bear fruit~paraphrased by Storie:&#8212;)</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em></em></p>
<p>Seed <em>cast away</em> on the garden floor</p>
<p>as it lay in the dark <em>wondering&#8230;.</em></p>
<p>no promise of life it appears to the seed</p>
<p>as it lay in the dark</p>
<p>will it choose to believe?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>asI lay in this place</p>
<p>you have allowed</p>
<p>I will cling to the promise of your word</p>
<p>that you are preparing your will for my life</p>
<p>breathing your word in the dark of the night</p>
<p>Hallelujah&#8230;&#8230;. Hallelujah</p>
<p>Hallelujah</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And he&#8217;s been there before</p>
<p>on the garden floor</p>
<p>as he lay in the dark wondering</p>
<p>the seed of the Father, Christ His own son</p>
<p>sent forth to die</p>
<p>to bring forth new life</p>
<p>hallelujah&#8230;.. hallelujah</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Even Christ was a seed fallen to the garden floor.</p>
<p>He understands our suffering.  </p>
<p>love,</p>
<p>Storie</p>
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		<title>authenticity&#8230;.</title>
		<link>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/06/26/100/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 26 Jun 2008 21:00:59 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>therealstorie</dc:creator>
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Ok, so I have been on a song-sharing kick the past few days&#8230;.and yes, there is more of that to come.  Ed and Nor have challenged me to figure out how to upload songs on an MP3 file&#8230;yikes!  I will do my best. 
I did share a song last night at church (hold me close&#8211;see post below)
One [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=therealstorie.wordpress.com&blog=1985054&post=100&subd=therealstorie&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p><img src="http://www.wunderground.com/data/wximagenew/c/chinagirl/11.jpg" alt="" width="467" height="312" /></p>
<p>Ok, so I have been on a song-sharing kick the past few days&#8230;.and yes, there is more of that to come.  Ed and Nor have challenged me to figure out how to upload songs on an MP3 file&#8230;yikes!  I will do my best. </p>
<p>I did share a song last night at church (hold me close&#8211;see post below)</p>
<p>One woman in particular came up to me and said, &#8220;that was for me.   My mom died one month ago&#8221;&#8230;&#8230;her voice trailed off as tears filled her eyes.  A highlight of the teaching last night was that our experiences provide others with the hope of Christ. </p>
<p>Sharing authentically is very humbling&#8230;..I opened my heart to a body of people to see inside of me now&#8230;&#8230;.. not <em>&#8220;where I have been,&#8221;</em>  {as in been there, done that&#8230;.} but rather:  this is me, right now!  Yikes!!  (no wonder I tried to post my song to a select few yesterday:-)</p>
<p>Being where you are is one of the most freeing places to be, yet one of the most vulnerable.</p>
<p>Can you relate?</p>
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		<title>I asked for a kiss&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/06/22/i-asked-for-a-kiss/</link>
		<comments>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/06/22/i-asked-for-a-kiss/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 22 Jun 2008 03:47:43 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>therealstorie</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Christmas]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[ 

On the morning we were to go and get our Christmas tree, I was trying to put on my best Christmas smiley face.  But I was not feeling it inside.  However, the girls were excited, so I  moved forward on their behalf.   I made the chili, the hot cocoa, packed the snacks, and extra [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=therealstorie.wordpress.com&blog=1985054&post=93&subd=therealstorie&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p> </p>
<p><img src="http://static.flickr.com/35/73723956_283aae3d5c.jpg" alt="" width="408" height="332" /><a href="http://static.flickr.com/35/73723956_283aae3d5c.jpg" target="_top"></a></p>
<p>On the morning we were to go and get our Christmas tree, I was trying to put on my best Christmas smiley face.  But I was not feeling it inside.  However, the girls were excited, so I  moved forward on their behalf.   I made the chili, the hot cocoa, packed the snacks, and extra socks, scarves and blankets.</p>
<p>On the drive up, the girls were chit chatting, and as usual, Jessie was requesting that we sing Christmas songs.  Usually this is one of my favorite things to do. </p>
<p><em>Lord, I really need to hear from you.  Will you send me a kiss?  Something just for me?</em></p>
<p>&#8220;Hark the Herald&#8221;, was my request.  Jessie started us out.  We all joined in.  Madeline sang harmony.</p>
<p>When we arrived, Sean made a big fire for us all to keep warm by, and then we set out on the short trek to find a tree.  My little nieces and daughters were all ahead of me.  I was bringing up the tail. </p>
<p>&#8220;where did everyone go?&#8221;  I felt too far behind the pack, and was feeling left behind.  I could hear Sean calling to me, &#8220;We&#8217;re over here babe!&#8221;</p>
<p>I made my way through branches heavily laden with snow. One of the kids was right in front of me.  Yeah!  I was catching up!  When all of a sudden a branch came toward me like a swinging door.  Before I knew it I felt the stinging of the needles and snow hitting me right in the face.  The next step I took, I sunk thigh-high in the snow pack.  I just wanted to cry.</p>
<p>I climbed out of the hole, and pressed on. </p>
<p><em>Lord, I need you to touch me.   A special gift from you, to me.</em></p>
<p><em>I</em> opened the branches.  Peering around the corner, my nieces and daughters were all huddled together.  My littlest niece was sitting on the sled, crying, &#8220;myyy&#8230;.feeet, are&#8230;are&#8230;cold,  Aunt Storie.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Ahh, baby, we will fix it.&#8221;  Before I knew it, my maddie was yarding off her boots and saying, &#8220;I have an extra pair of socks.&#8221;  and then Jessie, &#8220;I do to, mama.&#8221;</p>
<p>I took off LJ&#8217;s boots and socks, and then began to breathe warm air onto her foot.  Maddy grabbed the other one.  Before we knew it, she was laughing.</p>
<p>&#8220;Mom!!  MOM!!!  Look!! There are stars everywhere!!  In the trees, in your hair! on our clothes&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p><em>What????  I thought.</em>  Jessie began pointing out the hundreds, if not thousands of cookie- cutter,  perfectly shaped star of david snowflakes.  They were all identical in shape and had 6 perfect points.</p>
<p>&#8220;Jesus is kissing us!&#8221;  I said to the girls.</p>
<p>I will never forget their little faces looking up at the sky, all bundled up, bright red cheeks, screaming gleefully, &#8220;Thank you Jesus!!&#8221;</p>
<p>He kissed us all that day, in the midst of us serving one another&#8230;..had we not stopped to warm the feet of one, we may have missed His gift all together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>The picture on this post, I happened to find on the internet by typing in a google image search of star of david snowflake!  I have not yet figured out how to upload pictures from my files&#8230;I did get a couple of photos&#8230;one in hair, and the other on a mitten.  They were so tiny!  When I figure out how to upload, I will post them for you to see!</em></p>
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		<title>The widow and the apples&#8230;.</title>
		<link>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/06/18/the-widow-and-the-apples-2/</link>
		<comments>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/06/18/the-widow-and-the-apples-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 18 Jun 2008 23:28:59 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>therealstorie</dc:creator>
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I can remember the cool fall morning the call came out.  At our church we call it  “Shout Out”.   It is an email that lists the needs of people in our community. Those who are sick, or in need.
  Sean was on duty that day, but my girls and I responded to the call.   It was [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=therealstorie.wordpress.com&blog=1985054&post=84&subd=therealstorie&ref=&feed=1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='snap_preview'><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;"><a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://static.flickr.com/114/295056372_1fe5559c1b_o.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=http://virtualfrolic.blogspot.com/2006/11/case-of-disappearing-apples.html&amp;h=600&amp;w=800&amp;sz=74&amp;hl=en&amp;start=8&amp;tbnid=XZW7Dv8zxnze1M:&amp;tbnh=107&amp;tbnw=143&amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dapplesauce%26gbv%3D2%26hl%3Den"><img style="border:1px solid;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:XZW7Dv8zxnze1M:http://static.flickr.com/114/295056372_1fe5559c1b_o.jpg" alt="" width="143" height="107" /></a><a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.azfotos.com/food_meals/fruits/stockphotosalamy/red_apples_AEA24C.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.azfotos.com/food_meals/fruits/apples_pictures.htm&amp;h=320&amp;w=450&amp;sz=31&amp;hl=en&amp;start=19&amp;tbnid=uQiiRpSxSAzG8M:&amp;tbnh=90&amp;tbnw=127&amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dapples%26gbv%3D2%26hl%3Den"><img style="border:1px solid;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:uQiiRpSxSAzG8M:http://www.azfotos.com/food_meals/fruits/stockphotosalamy/red_apples_AEA24C.jpg" alt="" width="129" height="108" /></a><a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.andrew.cmu.edu/user/lcampbel/images/applepie1.jpg&amp;imgrefurl=http://pghtasted.blogspot.com/2007/10/flag-raising-apple-pie.html&amp;h=267&amp;w=400&amp;sz=183&amp;hl=en&amp;start=9&amp;tbnid=dLKFbUyD2T9lYM:&amp;tbnh=83&amp;tbnw=124&amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dapplepie%26gbv%3D2%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG"><img style="border:1px solid;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:dLKFbUyD2T9lYM:http://www.andrew.cmu.edu/user/lcampbel/images/applepie1.jpg" alt="" width="126" height="111" /></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">I can remember the cool fall morning the call came out. <span> </span>At our church we call it  “Shout Out”. <span>  </span>It is an email that lists the needs of people in our community. Those who are sick, or in need.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;"><span>  </span>Sean was on duty that day, but my girls and I responded to the call.<span>  </span><span> It was for a widow that had just lost</span> husband in a very sudden death at hunting camp. <span> </span>The call was to help around her property.  I realized then that death does not stop life.  The cows still need to be milked, <span> </span>apples still need harvesting, <span> </span>lawns still need to be mowed. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><em><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span> </span>Life goes on even in death.</span></span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><em><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;"> </span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">We bundled up and headed out to the property. <span> </span>When we arrived, the men were already blowing leaves and mowing. <span> </span>Others were putting away things for the winter, or fixing odds and ends.<span>    </span>I could see the widow peering looking through the window periodically. <span> </span><em>How can I reach out to her Lord? <span> </span>What would I say? <span> </span>I don’t even know her.</em></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">We quickly set about our work. <span> </span>I surveyed the scene and saw multitudes of apples on trees, as well as on the ground. <span> </span>I gathered up my girls and the other straggling children and we harvested apples. <span> </span>It took us better than three hours! <span> </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">My girls had to use the bathroom at some point, so we knocked on the door to ask if we could come in. <span> </span>I introduced myself to her friend who opened the door with, “it is so good of you to come and help&#8230;.. &#8220;   her voice trailed off as she glanced over toward the widow. <span> </span>She looked at me. <span> </span>I didn’t want her to feel the obligation to say anything to me. <span> </span>She nodded, agreeing with her friend. <span> </span>They directed us to the bathroom, and then we quickly headed back outside, not wanting in any way to intrude.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">It was a beautiful afternoon. <span> </span>Mom’s raking leaves, kids jumping in the piles&#8230;&#8230;the property looked great when we finished up.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">I hugged my new friend and asked her what she wanted done with the apples. <span> </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">“I will probably just give them away. <span> </span>They will otherwise just sit there and go bad.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">“Can we take them and process them for you?”, I asked her.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">“Sure, that would be nice.”<span>  </span>I could tell by her response that she could have gone one way or the other. <span> </span>There had been too many other decisions to make lately.  Apples were the least of her concern. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">Our friends brought the apples to my home in their pick up. <span> </span>10 five gallon buckets&#8211; FULL!!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">The next morning I began processing the apples, one bucket at a time.<span>  </span>I realized by that afternoon, that it was going to take me a long time to get through them. <span> </span>I didn’t want them to go bad.<span>  </span>I called a few of my girlfriends. <span> </span>By the next morning, they all showed up with thier cutting boards, their favorite knife, and apple peelers ready to work. <span> </span>I cannot even begin to tell you what happened around that kitchen table on those afternoons.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">We laughed, cried, and prayed for our newly widowed friend.<span>  </span>We encouraged one another in our own marriages and as mothers.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;">By the end of the week, we had processed over 30 quarts of applesauce, and 15 gallon bags of apple pie filling.<span>  </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span>We wrapped the jars up in cloth and a ribbon and delivered them to our friend.  When she opened the door, her eyes filled with tears.  I wonder if she thought we would really come and bring her the goods as we had said.  I know that I had been dissapointed in grief, and I could see that same look of surprise in her.</span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span>We sat for a few moments, and embraced wife to wife.  She missed him.  I tried to understand.</span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;">Fall was in the air in my home that week.<span>  </span>The fragrance of community.<span>  </span>The seasoning of friendship and shared hearts as we gathered around the widow and the apples&#8230;&#8230;.</span></p>
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		<title>The widow and the apples</title>
		<link>http://therealstorie.wordpress.com/2008/06/18/the-widow-and-the-apples/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 18 Jun 2008 19:59:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>therealstorie</dc:creator>
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I don&#8217;t know where my story went!!  I just finished typing it all up, and poof it is gone!  Hmmm&#8230;&#8230;maybe I will rewrite it, or ask the Lord if there is a different story to share.  grrrr&#8230;&#8230;:-)
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<p>I don&#8217;t know where my story went!!  I just finished typing it all up, and poof it is gone!  Hmmm&#8230;&#8230;maybe I will rewrite it, or ask the Lord if there is a different story to share.  grrrr&#8230;&#8230;:-)</p>
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