tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64363374344458426162024-02-02T08:14:59.759-05:00Embrace the GraceSheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.comBlogger628125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-75864815346445804982023-02-27T21:26:00.003-05:002023-02-27T21:26:48.125-05:00Look Both Ways<p>"Look both ways!!" It's the word of caution we yelled to our children before they crossed any road. It's also what I hear my own girls yelling at their children now. </p><p>But as I write today, I find myself "looking both ways" with a different purpose in mind. I find myself at a crossroads that requires me to look back and forward at the same time. It's not easy but if I'm going to fully embrace this moment, it's what i need to do.</p><p>You see, there are MAJOR changes happening in our immediate family: </p><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><span>This Friday, Cody will have surgery for thyroid cancer. He and Kristin will be out of commission for at least two weeks. </span></li><li><span><span>Next Wednesday, Frank and I will leave to spend 30 days with school, ministry and sabbatical in the Philippines. (Why, yes! That IS exactly halfway around the world.)</span></span></li><li><span><span><span>On March 23rd, Meagan and Nathan will close on the sale of their house and prepare for their move to NC. Which very likely will happen while we are in the Philippines. (Did I mention that's halfway around the world?)</span></span></span></li><li><span><span><span><span>Also on March 23rd, Joy will receive an iodine treatment to kill off any lingering cancer cells in her body. The toughest part of this is the required isolation for 5 days. They have four young children. John will be covering our positions as well as taking care of his family. Who's going to help them while we're .......halfway around the world?!</span></span></span></span></li></ol><div>Not the easiest of times. </div><div><br /></div><div>But when our Smiths called last week to say the house was under contract, I found the peace of Christ especially near. Meagan asked how we were doing and I responded with what must have been inspired of heaven because it was too profound to be my own thought. "We're good, Sweetheart. God will provide grace and the only way we won't have grace is if we refuse what He's offering." </div><div><br /></div><div>So, in order to exercise embracing the grace we're being offered, I find myself looking both backward and forward many times each day. Here's how it works.</div><div><br /></div><div>1. We're looking back and rehearsing that although "cancer" is a frightening word, God carried Joy through this last summer. In fact, the same surgeon who operated on her will be operating on Cody. Moffitt is one of the best cancer centers in the country. So, we look forward to a good outcome.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. Although it's been many years since we traveled overseas for such a long time, I'm looking back and realizing those were fruitful times of ministry. They also gave Frank and I opportunity to reconnect which is much needed after all his hard work on this graduate degree. So, I'm also looking forward to writing and pondering and ministry times in a nation I've never before visited. New Adventures Ahead.</div><div><br /></div><div>3. I look back on the many miracles that occurred in order for Meagan and Nathan to be able to purchase their beautiful home. I thank God for His abundant provision and it gives me reason to look forward to what He surely must have in store for such obedient followers of His. I look back at the army of friends who helped them pack and move two short years ago, many of them are still here and will help in our absence. </div><div><br /></div><div>4. John and Joy have been so good about blessing others around them. I look back on all the kindness they've sown and I have an assurance that they will reap abundantly in return. Someone will be there to offer food and childcare and encouragement - all the things they've lavishly given to others. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday was our final family meal together for this season. When we first moved here eighteen years ago, the girls determined we would have a meal together at least once a week. Monday night became the designated time when no one scheduled work, classes or dates. Monday was Family Meal night. As they married and our original five morphed into an amazing eighteen, the day and frequency had to change. But we've still try to get together at least once a month.</div><div><br /></div><div>The girls requested one of our family favorites - Greek chicken. (Which I learned to cook while serving for six weeks in Greece over forty years ago.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Frank understood how important it was for me, so he made time Sunday morning to help set the table with full china and stemware. Everyone but the youngest three ate on English bone china for lunch. I looked back on the missions trip when we visited the "seconds" shop and bought all these dishes for a fraction of their market price. And I smiled looking forward to someday when those grandbabies will tell about eating Sunday dinner on Noni and Papa's pretty country rose plates. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was a resplendent afternoon. </div><div><br /></div><div>There was lots of laughter, many stories, great food, kids running and playing, a few pictures, and ending with prayer. Yes, I made it through without becoming a blubbery mess. The moment was just too marvelous for tears. </div><div><br /></div><div>We've been blessed to live near one another for the past seventeen years. We've been together for each courtship and wedding. We've worked hard packing and unpacking boxes for a total of twelve moves. We've held each of the ten grandbabies within minutes of them being born. We've wept and rejoiced together over the big things and the small. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm well aware that most people never get to experience anything like this and believe me - I Am Grateful! I've also been careful to ask the Lord for help in holding this marvelous season with open hands. Now that the steps He has ordered require such massive shifting, I must chose to look back on His kindness in letting us have this season. Then immediately chose to look forward knowing He will be with us in the new season, as well. </div><div><br /></div><div>He hasn't run out of blessings. They will just look different. (How would you say I'm doing with embracing the grace I need?) Tears come as I write, and I have more questions than answers for our new season. But I have only to look back on the faithfulness of God in order to have courage to look forward with faith for tomorrow.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><i>How about you? We'd love to hear about the changes that have occurred in your family and how you've navigated them. Click on the comment box below and share them with us, please. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i> </i></div><p></p><p><span><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></p><p><br /></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-84619348439622953382023-01-31T19:42:00.003-05:002023-01-31T19:42:38.482-05:00Today<p>Frank and I just finished eating leftovers while sitting on our back porch and watching the sun set. What's so newsworthy about that, you may ask? Well, I served our bit of dinner on my beautiful Winter Greetings china by Lenox. </p><p>"China on the back porch?! Who does that?"</p><p>We did.</p><p>Here's the 'why' behind our dinner upgrade.</p><p>Last Sunday we were privileged to dedicate Olivia Rae McGhee back to the Lord in our morning church service. There were two other precious babies, many parents, grandparents and a loving congregation that were also part of the moving ceremony. It was simply precious.</p><p>But our children have told us that Olivia is most likely our final grandchild. We appreciate their warning and have taken it seriously. After all, how many Nonis have TEN perfect grandchildren? Frank and I are acutely aware of just how blessed we are. </p><p>So ever since the announcement that Kristin and Cody were pregnant, we have been savoring every moment. Actually, our entire family has been marking the gift.</p><p>Olivia wore the dedication dress I made eleven years ago. Almost forty years ago, my mom made a lovely dedication dress from white eyelet that each of our girls wore and I wanted to carry on the special tradition. </p><p>I'm not much of a seamstress so I recruited the help of an expert in our church. Her name is Pat and she helped me create an exquisite gown. We intentionally wove ribbons that could be replaced with different colors to suit the taste of each mom. (Joy chose pale pink for her girls and Kristin asked for a dusty lavender.)</p><p>Abby wore it first. Five years later it was Ava's turn. When Madi was to be dedicated, we couldn't locate the dress, so she wore the original which her own mom had worn. Can you tell we love tradition around here?</p><div>Sunday morning, Joy sent a picture to me that pulled everything into sharp focus. She had just come across a picture of Abby Grace sitting in the middle of a table at church when she was not much older than Olivia is now. It made me catch my breath with the realization of just how quickly time is flying. For those wondering, the answer is yes, I cried.</div><div><br /></div><div>To listen as parents promised to point Olivia back to Christ, her Maker. To watch Olivia smile at her mom and dad. To observe our congregation stand and pray over the young families giving their lives and children to God for His purposes. Well, it was another defining moment for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Parker (Olivia's four-year-old brother) carefully touched her delicate white dress then whispered to Kristin, "Mom, is Owivia getting marhweed?" "No, sweet boy. She's being dedicated to Jesus just like you were."</div><div><br /></div><div>He nodded his head as if he remembered it all.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Sheri, that sounds like it was a beautiful time. But what does it have to do with a story about your china and the back porch."</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's the point for us all - we only have today. I only have today to really SEE and SAVOR the joys of my grandchildren. In just five more years, we will have grands with drivers licenses giving them permission to operate gas powered motor vehicles on major roadways. How can that be?!</div><div><br /></div><div>All too soon, there will be no more holding or rocking them. Cuddling, tickling and hand holding will be drastically reduced. Today. Today is my only opportunity to indulge in these activities that will become the memories I treasure and rehearse in all my tomorrows.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's why I served our leftovers on China today because today was my opportunity to make a memory for tomorrow. Too many days have already passed with me waiting for a better moment to plan and host the special event requiring china. Today is what I have. Today.</div><div><br /></div><div>I can almost hear someone thinking, "That dish could have broken on the cement floor." Yes but it's just a dish. And even if it had, the memory would have only been richer and funnier.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, here's my question for you, Dear Reader, "What have you not been seeing, not putting to use as you wait for a more perfect moment?" Today is the most perfect moment I can imagine.</div><div><br /></div><div>Call your parents. Hug your children. Attend your grandchild's ballgame. Take the pictures. Eat on the good dishes. Plan that trip. Don't wait for tomorrow, time is flying past too quickly. Grasp today and make the best memories you can. </div><div><br /></div><div>If you do, I can almost promise . . . you'll thank me tomorrow.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-22701510960060944112022-12-31T20:47:00.001-05:002022-12-31T20:47:47.007-05:00Happy New Year!<p>As you read this, I would imagine the new year of 2022 has already been dismissed and 2023 has been welcomed. So I'm simply stopping by to wish you and yours great blessings for the year ahead.</p><p>We had one especially amazing event that marked 2022 for us - Olivia Rae McGhee made her debut in July. We are grateful for God's protection over baby Olivia and Mama Kristin. While she started with a troublesome breathing issue, that seems to have gotten much better. We seldom hear the gasping sound she used to make and trust me, we mark it with gratitude.</p><p>Thanks be to God, Joy's cancer surgery went well. She had sixteen malignant lymph nodes out of the nineteen they removed so there will be follow up this spring to assure no additional growth of malignant cells. And while she suffered several months with shoulder and neck pain post-surgery, she is now working with a pain management specialist at Moffitt. One more point of gratitude.</p><p>Our Smith tribe is celebrating a recent job change for Nathan. After seven years with the Publix corporation, he has transitioned into working as an independent contractor serving Duke energy. This was also the launching of a home school program for the Smith children. They are loving the freedom and creativity.</p><p>We've had several surgical procedures. Processed a serious hospitalization of my dad; a heart issue with Mom Hawley; numerous health trials for our church members; and the unexpected passing of two members. Truthfully, it began to feel like each month brought its own trouble. But we made it to December 31 and we continue to whisper, "Thank You, Lord."</p><p>I certainly didn't want to miss the opportunity to also say Thank You for faithfully stopping by for little visits with Embrace the Grace. You have kept me writing this year although in a more limited way. I pray each of you has someone who periodically stops by to encourage your dreams, too.</p><p>Today, I read of a great plan you might like, as well. One of my friends has identified an empty mason jar as her Gratitude Jar. She cut strips of colorful paper and secured a special pen. Her plan involves a quiet moment at the end of each week during this coming year. She plans to record a highlight, blessing or miracle from that week on one of the slips of paper then add it to the Gratitude Jar. Next New Year's Eve, she will spend time reading back over the 52 miracles she may have otherwise forgotten. </p><p>I'm looking for a suitable jar, how about you?</p><p>One thing I know of life - Grateful people are Happier people. We don't have to be overly optimistic and we don't have to ignore reality. But choosing to turn the diamond and see the blessing even in the difficulty is a worthwhile choice. </p><p>Let me stop with my rambling. I thank you for reading. I pray blessings for your coming year. I am grateful to be a small part of your life. </p><p>Happy New Year, Friends! Happy New Year!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-82652307377106202782022-11-30T22:29:00.000-05:002022-11-30T22:29:05.385-05:00Listening with Love<p> I wish with all my heart that I could get this picture to upload. Actually, I have several I want to share with you from Thanksgiving. But there is just one that drew it all together for me.</p><p>Please be patient as I try to describe the back story. </p><p>This summer, we started dreaming about making a family trip to the mountains for Thanksgiving. The idea gained traction and before long, family vacation at Banner Elk, NC 2022 was on the roll. Each family would be able to have their own little cabin. (Space is important when you have ten children and eight adults who all have different sleep schedules.)</p><p>We were able to break up the long drive by meeting first in SC. Then on Monday, we drove together to see Grandmother Hawley. All eighteen of us congregated at Mom's favorite restaurant. (Yes, we called the day before to let them know we were coming.)</p><p>They were able to seat us right away. But that had to wait for all the hugging and squeezing that comes when family hasn't seen one another for a long time. This was also Grandmother's first time to meet Olivia Rae McGhee. It was a special moment.</p><p>We got pictures. Lots of pictures. But it wasn't until later in the afternoon that I found my favorite. It's one of those moments you didn't even realize would strike you so strongly.</p><p>Madi Smith is probably one of our quietest grands. Make no mistake, she has plenty to say. She just doesn't talk until she's sure you're listening. In this picture, Grandmother is looking directly into Madi's eyes. Even with all the chaos swirling around them, it's clear that Madi has Great Grandmother's undivided attention. And she's talking.</p><p>I love the picture because it shows Mom Hawley doing what she did so often when my own girls were little. We would finally arrive after our long road trip and all the hugging would commence. We would unload the car then Frank and I would promptly say our good nights and head for bed. </p><p>But not Mom. She would sit at the kitchen table and listen just as long as our three girls would keep talking. Sometimes they stayed awake until the early hours of the morning. The girls laughing, telling stories and all the while Grandmother listening intently to each one, asking questions, laughing with them. </p><p>I vividly remember many times falling asleep with a smile on my face because their sweet voices were drifting down the hallway. I was thankful for the experience my girls were enjoying.</p><p>To capture that picture with one more generation "being heard" was incredibly special.</p><p>My question for you today is this: who in your life needs to be heard? Who has information ready to share if they could just sense someone was really listening? May I encourage you, be the one to ask the questions. Let them know you care by offering your undivided attention.</p><p>It may not seem so important at the moment but then again, you may be making a memory that will live on long after you. My girls will never forget sitting with Grandmother at her kitchen table. They felt heard and even more, they felt loved.</p><p>Don't miss your opportunity to listen and share love this Christmas season.</p><p><br /></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-86786081400037070772022-10-31T22:32:00.001-04:002022-10-31T22:32:28.378-04:00What Do YOU Love?<p>What do you really love to do?</p><p>It's a question we ask young adults often. We follow up with advice like, "Find a way to do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life." Which sounds like wisdom but isn't completely accurate. </p><p>Even what we love doing will have its days that require disciplined focus and consistency. Some days will push us to the limit <i>because </i>we love our work. It's just the reality of life.</p><p>Perhaps we should not reserve that question for addressing only young adults. Someone recently asked me, "Sheri, what is it that you really love doing?" Without a moment's hesitation I answered, "Encouraging!" </p><p>Whether it's teaching a class, listening to a younger minister, being excited with a grandchild or writing. I find that my own heart is more satisfied when I am able to encourage someone else.</p><p>This past month I had a great time teaching a connect group at our church. It was a mixed group of men and women: some married and some single. The topic was the wonderful book by Gary Chapman entitled, <u>The Five Love Language</u>s. </p><p>Dr. Chapman takes the complicated subject of how to best communicate love and appreciation; making it a more manageable objective. I spent long hours preparing for my fifty minute class. There were handouts to prepare and material I needed to study in more detail if I was going to explain it clearly. </p><p>And of course, it would be impossible to cover all the fantastic material in three short classes. So, I had to carefully determine what to highlight and what to exclude. In the end, we laughed together, cried a bit and learned a lot about ourselves and those around us. </p><p>For me, the win came when several in the group described how it encouraged them to work harder at the important relationships in their lives. SCORE!</p><p>Another friend asked me today, "Why haven't you been writing as much? I love reading your blog, it always encourages me." So, here I am. working on the "consistency" part of what I love doing.</p><p>It's not a lengthy, earth-shaking treatise. But hopefully it will cause you to stop for just a moment and ask yourself, "What do I love doing?" If you've gotten slack with discipline or focus, let me encourage you - get to it. </p><p>Someone is waiting for the gift you bring to the world. </p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-2356913353976183272022-08-31T11:29:00.003-04:002022-08-31T20:16:00.079-04:00Olivia Rae is Here!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">At long last, I'm able to share pictures with you of our newest princess - Olivia Rae McGhee!!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLFkX9dpIe7BsyUVXfat93DgU5xt15W1iPtMh_xBhSvskGleon5v6g_u27rpgQl0w6TwyD0rjem2N_b4eJYo3WijtomiI3wLvMRxE1uqxCr_xGSN1EyjsVoBmbDTcI_SbKR67a1odnFyIHbaOgrlA1nt7o3wlKKTOENx68drBHa8EtpTrFSQ2lVtj9Xw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLFkX9dpIe7BsyUVXfat93DgU5xt15W1iPtMh_xBhSvskGleon5v6g_u27rpgQl0w6TwyD0rjem2N_b4eJYo3WijtomiI3wLvMRxE1uqxCr_xGSN1EyjsVoBmbDTcI_SbKR67a1odnFyIHbaOgrlA1nt7o3wlKKTOENx68drBHa8EtpTrFSQ2lVtj9Xw=w200-h133" width="200" /></a></div><br /><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Is she not absolutely beautiful? As you can see, her big brother (Parker) is totally smitten with his baby. At four years of age, he takes her wailing and constant need for attention in stride. On Tuesday, Olivia will be six weeks old. We can hardly believe it but time goes quickly, doesn't it?</span></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiDcEo1xc1-RUnvV7gsZByE7_j5KhnlKhYKF8QmICKaO7DXpDUWfMnUyJ3V4eyXNmYS8UuogzX3JO_NjOMMTvbixJUVYolkt6QgFR1i2gseZqXDtvAHQfJ0XXucKuTcWrx0pbojvZudxBdZLHSZvZDsrF_QsjgBWBbl3OPhkQ_8cR19a4xE5ppYQQ7gcQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1745" data-original-width="1161" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiDcEo1xc1-RUnvV7gsZByE7_j5KhnlKhYKF8QmICKaO7DXpDUWfMnUyJ3V4eyXNmYS8UuogzX3JO_NjOMMTvbixJUVYolkt6QgFR1i2gseZqXDtvAHQfJ0XXucKuTcWrx0pbojvZudxBdZLHSZvZDsrF_QsjgBWBbl3OPhkQ_8cR19a4xE5ppYQQ7gcQ=w133-h200" width="133" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Kristin explained that she has delayed sharing pictures online because life has been a bit more than she anticipated. Every mom with more than one child certainly understands!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p></p><p style="text-align: left;">Here are a couple of extra pictures just because you've waited so patiently. </p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEign-GAuzIluWBkxzph5f9SZHlS7lpRkYTC87AcJ2yYUazOwPKds4NKtQVNP5bIF-u2uQr-ehVZp0toS6Na0hC-Rtx3GM4DQZaJEkM_KEu-7k0vdUOY1_LQWIzDlGCuH32iWtGTu0i-jI08Ah5fSeeBNcoLzWKKLQj8kHOFDa55cCGTOu7Snb3FkDAc7w" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1723" data-original-width="1879" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEign-GAuzIluWBkxzph5f9SZHlS7lpRkYTC87AcJ2yYUazOwPKds4NKtQVNP5bIF-u2uQr-ehVZp0toS6Na0hC-Rtx3GM4DQZaJEkM_KEu-7k0vdUOY1_LQWIzDlGCuH32iWtGTu0i-jI08Ah5fSeeBNcoLzWKKLQj8kHOFDa55cCGTOu7Snb3FkDAc7w=w200-h183" width="200" /></a></div><br />Don't you just want to squish those cheeks????<p></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZlYo5yBgFvu3WxOS7fxZZJ8FJXQP2zkd5Y0RfrmKOgoH9CRaKFOFuoQ5zzFW15_5a2QdqCOhNgMgRRox4YWqbOXPmLuITE4D8Ic0eFvW6-dNwzsu2ooVyQ218owH8m2Klp85YHeGQSZH_qwX96sNMU1Ocml1zfJ7jbY0sR7q1VtQzAh74dNkCtE2nWA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1508" data-original-width="2048" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZlYo5yBgFvu3WxOS7fxZZJ8FJXQP2zkd5Y0RfrmKOgoH9CRaKFOFuoQ5zzFW15_5a2QdqCOhNgMgRRox4YWqbOXPmLuITE4D8Ic0eFvW6-dNwzsu2ooVyQ218owH8m2Klp85YHeGQSZH_qwX96sNMU1Ocml1zfJ7jbY0sR7q1VtQzAh74dNkCtE2nWA=w200-h148" width="200" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjUA4Q9nd5AizEcRUeLz0zSZK-AmCoF746QUMZnrzowAamAIF64mDdntKm_-9T1DUSpt7Ay3n6PB5uYxLqAAGyjJLShOBHt-Vagyhm93MbZgQIwOAsH1wDxPFXdp3z6jIHnSTx6iKgOPGbqcFv9gXx1i2XewKWPZAnILWmwGmXmwcJZ0ygqB-1cMOb4Bg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjUA4Q9nd5AizEcRUeLz0zSZK-AmCoF746QUMZnrzowAamAIF64mDdntKm_-9T1DUSpt7Ay3n6PB5uYxLqAAGyjJLShOBHt-Vagyhm93MbZgQIwOAsH1wDxPFXdp3z6jIHnSTx6iKgOPGbqcFv9gXx1i2XewKWPZAnILWmwGmXmwcJZ0ygqB-1cMOb4Bg=w200-h133" width="200" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgyKBYjilcZFhzS8rtNKjP4QqZv6EN6mftpAioVqOubp-Iw8om3Usdrkok3pXqz18m0arsbatiF8UEg3f-66lgFGiOBZG3Xi4FYRBZKw-Vtu6-vNzWpiNg5FIWmLQz020YpD5irLo4w6RCjiFd2sz55N9mjjbFhMpa0O0Xwosvo7mTII_9OmIepQl_ftQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgyKBYjilcZFhzS8rtNKjP4QqZv6EN6mftpAioVqOubp-Iw8om3Usdrkok3pXqz18m0arsbatiF8UEg3f-66lgFGiOBZG3Xi4FYRBZKw-Vtu6-vNzWpiNg5FIWmLQz020YpD5irLo4w6RCjiFd2sz55N9mjjbFhMpa0O0Xwosvo7mTII_9OmIepQl_ftQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjaHM0XmS9j8N4fdA42EgMkRmd5T9ZhOY2chqnzANDdcUY3DysegbXJlIX5SvfA1N13qhvqlx2SJbo8FFkJ6tA5oaFF5pnL89HQIYrjA0UceXnSbE5YApiS736IFgPHEeTdfHBK04yWfTaEYM__5ufDaFg5q2l3m4JYhKAn5yOz3sggzU7R_NS1smFmZw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1861" data-original-width="1596" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjaHM0XmS9j8N4fdA42EgMkRmd5T9ZhOY2chqnzANDdcUY3DysegbXJlIX5SvfA1N13qhvqlx2SJbo8FFkJ6tA5oaFF5pnL89HQIYrjA0UceXnSbE5YApiS736IFgPHEeTdfHBK04yWfTaEYM__5ufDaFg5q2l3m4JYhKAn5yOz3sggzU7R_NS1smFmZw=w172-h200" width="172" /></a></div><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">Photo Credit: Smithplicity aka Auntie Meagan. Yes, Meagan did this family shoot for them and managed to get amazing, creative pictures in under an hour. Beautiful work from a mommie of four who knows, "You better grab all the pictures you can while the babies are happy and smiling because that's a small window!" </p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3ugfRWTFBvLdtUmkxk3WmdSTyAQyr6J3o9n1uaf6dCzG9Ll-LFWNSc4eITb_QJb7sC372NOY4NTFyM4y4kRAz7GBLUQ3ImBZojMi6lZVm0MVvSrEIRXXEnoX83sV_v0taaTP2uPZnbXRWNUMPR7UHhAcZ9iyEPy8EH6_H3MRXV_9seNOrrBE4vRxWhw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3ugfRWTFBvLdtUmkxk3WmdSTyAQyr6J3o9n1uaf6dCzG9Ll-LFWNSc4eITb_QJb7sC372NOY4NTFyM4y4kRAz7GBLUQ3ImBZojMi6lZVm0MVvSrEIRXXEnoX83sV_v0taaTP2uPZnbXRWNUMPR7UHhAcZ9iyEPy8EH6_H3MRXV_9seNOrrBE4vRxWhw=w200-h133" width="200" /></a></div><br />Olivia does have a breathing issue they are trying to identify. Insurance hasn't made it easy for them to get her to a specialist but they're pushing forward and hope to have some answers soon. <p></p><p style="text-align: left;">In addition to Olivia's arrival, many of you have been aware of Joy's journey with thyroid cancer. Her surgery was this past Friday and the surgeon believes all went well although they did remove extra lymph nodes that were questionable. When praying for her please pray the recovery and balancing of her medications will go smoothly. Please also pray for their precious little family who are walking through this illness together.</p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjvs2bWxBhrviY5GYLNZO2OZVpqa3Ju-lTBCFVHywcOpbHJmD4rP7SMPRK3HRddliWJ1E6ukT4HxFAkCB0c8_gVf1aNHJ_NNbMyvbHtC10DKo_ia7BoXIaLKtJhfHq8ftRjwMIa544AcUKTxgOqWbTcNouL856smjpoiiHaD4cM5mGSMNhOVsNnBbZOVQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="661" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjvs2bWxBhrviY5GYLNZO2OZVpqa3Ju-lTBCFVHywcOpbHJmD4rP7SMPRK3HRddliWJ1E6ukT4HxFAkCB0c8_gVf1aNHJ_NNbMyvbHtC10DKo_ia7BoXIaLKtJhfHq8ftRjwMIa544AcUKTxgOqWbTcNouL856smjpoiiHaD4cM5mGSMNhOVsNnBbZOVQ=w138-h200" width="138" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixMSPF0upbbfI_PAwqMwry1brczQ2KjO9G_4vmWXH5jw8G4oUyXOoIJeXmz2kJyw2IcK_2GvREoNfMxK8YZKrqWpFp-gFGijmTPOc1_SouNccVDRtmpOSERzHFGPYpyh4m3Ssv_YlTuSgfX0rOyPAI0lZaHTqrD5LcLqSXnETthhTYBbqeZKTx_6DGeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="743" data-original-width="960" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixMSPF0upbbfI_PAwqMwry1brczQ2KjO9G_4vmWXH5jw8G4oUyXOoIJeXmz2kJyw2IcK_2GvREoNfMxK8YZKrqWpFp-gFGijmTPOc1_SouNccVDRtmpOSERzHFGPYpyh4m3Ssv_YlTuSgfX0rOyPAI0lZaHTqrD5LcLqSXnETthhTYBbqeZKTx_6DGeg=w200-h155" width="200" /></a></div><br />More Smithplicity Photos<p></p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">So, I couldn't do an entire post of grand baby pictures and not include my Smiths. So here are a couple of candid shots from a recent visit we made to Sams. As you can see, the creative gene is strong in the Smith children. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Are you bored by shopping with Noni? Make up your own game called "New Ways to Ride in the Cart!"</p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEghMv0sV_Fhu12ABQPPLR7cVtY7Tjz3Nl379qX_xYpg9aD97itQamj6cn7ptjbCb603uTVmQf0cE9C1sOuFMqJkGEQTtyec-OxbR6V8rKpMypdR0Aj4dYAwTgz--GBhypPrxqZENFFLXP6Be9IHlpW4qKmYir-EmWHHbgLAoeM9VWD0vAjkpItZBgMI9w" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEghMv0sV_Fhu12ABQPPLR7cVtY7Tjz3Nl379qX_xYpg9aD97itQamj6cn7ptjbCb603uTVmQf0cE9C1sOuFMqJkGEQTtyec-OxbR6V8rKpMypdR0Aj4dYAwTgz--GBhypPrxqZENFFLXP6Be9IHlpW4qKmYir-EmWHHbgLAoeM9VWD0vAjkpItZBgMI9w=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgteKg74XFpZ7eSfqjLpx-u7wcSy95cPsW9-5_g6FSBzuQd1kNkJ3J1OYjuEUEUEAUvpCXKBb-EaIkwCU1aTphfTNZTU4LEvEeAeW9orEf7DZIXKuq4bNlnupKy8mojO1QwDfeK2LX69uXLg7OHjr3xP6JBWWcj1hyzpL2uxOqDA_wvqro3gaewZvNYjA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3593" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgteKg74XFpZ7eSfqjLpx-u7wcSy95cPsW9-5_g6FSBzuQd1kNkJ3J1OYjuEUEUEAUvpCXKBb-EaIkwCU1aTphfTNZTU4LEvEeAeW9orEf7DZIXKuq4bNlnupKy8mojO1QwDfeK2LX69uXLg7OHjr3xP6JBWWcj1hyzpL2uxOqDA_wvqro3gaewZvNYjA=w168-h200" width="168" /></a></div><br />As summer comes to a close and children start back to school, may I encourage you to "see" your children and grands? It was my own little girls riding in the cart just yesterday. Now, they're all grown up with families and trials of their own. <p></p><p style="text-align: left;">I'm so thankful for the moments I have tucked away in my heart. Little photos in my memory book that make me smile every time I thumb through the album. I don't remember who said this but it surely was true for me while raising children. <i> "The days are long and the years are short; take it all in."</i></p><p style="text-align: left;">Blessings for your holiday weekend. And thanks for celebrating Olivia's arrival with us.</p></div>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-86104221691675787292022-07-27T14:06:00.000-04:002022-07-27T14:06:06.704-04:00My Hope and Help<p>I told you we have a lot of birthdays in July - now add one more. Olivia Rae made her debut on the morning of July 12th. And she is absolutely PERFECT! Thank the Lord. (Mommie is recovering well. Now, we pray for extra sleep for them both.) No close up pictures just yet. </p><p>This month we've celebrated John, Zachariah, Grayson, Noni, Olivia's birth and the wedding anniversary for Nathan and Meagan. Eleven years they've been married; time is flying. </p><p>On my birthday, the girls brought all ten of the practically perfect grands to sing Happy Birthday to Noni. They also brought peanut butter jelly sandwiches, chips and juice which gave us the opportunity to share a gourmet lunch together. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZvFTZPk2qTi73neBeS-uRyj_wmw2FRtIegqCYFnojT4hPl2YH0VCuXKlXnPqoPHXDjPuX2cZH8oqf9qv2JFexumDVpHC7_U0cF2skFISAT9Q_sNW7_6a4QdTeyZpSEjHqbgugW6E1deMsFeQLlkChv4MxN6o6Of_W53nmml6pV97_L26jsafyVjDskg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZvFTZPk2qTi73neBeS-uRyj_wmw2FRtIegqCYFnojT4hPl2YH0VCuXKlXnPqoPHXDjPuX2cZH8oqf9qv2JFexumDVpHC7_U0cF2skFISAT9Q_sNW7_6a4QdTeyZpSEjHqbgugW6E1deMsFeQLlkChv4MxN6o6Of_W53nmml6pV97_L26jsafyVjDskg=w200-h150" width="200" /></a></div><p>Are those precious faces, or what?! Yes, you are correct - that question was facetious. </p><p>Madi and Ava are hugging. Noah is holding Andrew with Zach squeezed into the open spot. I'm holding Olivia and her brother, Parker, is close at hand to help. Then comes Abby beside Spencer who's holding Grayson. Of course there had to be balloons because no child can imagine celebrating a birthday (even when you're "old") without balloons. </p><p>The most contented smile is Noni's!</p><p></p><p>I wish we were only busy marking celebrations but everyone we know has life happening, don't they? The past two months have been unusually tough for our family. We've been introduced to severe illnesses, we've had frightening moments of loss, shocking news and moments that have literally taken our breath away. </p><p>If you knew the details, you would know I'm not exaggerating one little bit. This is a tough time.</p><p>In the middle of all the upheaval, I found myself holding my breath - often. My watch would vibrate and I would glance down to find this message, "Even a few moments of deep breathing can help your outlook." Right! I would gladly take deep breaths if I wasn't subconsciously waiting for the next bit of bad news.</p><p>Still, there was a church to care for and meetings to attend and deadlines to meet. So, one deep breath leads to another then another and we find ourselves able to move. Of course, praying is another almost subconscious action as well. But it never hurts to be reminded.</p><p>So, when Frank asked me to share the sermon this past Sunday, it was easy for me to prepare the message from the very scriptures and truths that have been carrying me. The simple title was My Hope and My Help. </p><p>John told about the Holy Spirit who is our helper or in Greek, our "parakletos." (Jn. 16:7) And I found this example that explains the term John used.</p><p>It seems Greek soldiers (in the time of Christ) were sent out to battle in pairs. That way, when the enemy attacked them they could stand back to back and cover each other's blind side. Your battle partner was called your "paraclete." </p><p>By choosing that word, John was explaining to his readers that the precious Spirit of God wants to cover our blind spots. He wants to be our helper in tough times; all we have to do is ask. Could you use some of that help today, like me?!</p><p>I also shared from Paul's writings that "... this hope [in God] will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us..." (Romans 5:5)</p><p>That's comfort I can lean into during this time of feeling overwhelmed!</p><p>Frank and I pray almost daily that our children and grandchildren will follow Christ every day they have breath. Maybe another birthday is the perfect time to remind ourselves that He wants to partner with us on this life journey. He wants to be our Hope and our Help. I think I'll let Him - how about you?</p><p><br /></p><p><i>How do you celebrate birthdays in your family? Do you have a month with multiple celebrations? Would you share one of your favorite comfort scriptures with us? Thanks for leaving comments, they're such an encouragement. </i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><br /></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-47046157912794808272022-06-30T14:28:00.002-04:002022-06-30T14:28:17.953-04:00Little Moments<p>Today is a special day for our family. . . Abigail Grace Schreck turns TEN years old. She is our first granddaughter, one smart cookie, beautiful like her mommie, a nurturer, an honor student, a worshipper, a baker and a great soccer player. </p><p>Here is a picture of the sour cream pound cake Abby and I baked recently. My mom (an excellent cook) made these often and Abby was excited to have that connection. It did taste delicious, if you're wondering.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhzJMXkcLej3gtyh80PV4bJWILzA95r9XohOWzqDb4uV0FW7yTriVfzECldsB0CK5KJYRQ1V_YMbhP-NRkP_RKDgWzYElYBp7UlfuQBt5jmkaEYlRB351XIa1f2f6Sh_qCdzWyPNsNd87gIo21KzYQ9RpbxF2t01sLKB83L6u5MMpTQ0S0oFXiFHY6www" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1552" data-original-width="1168" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhzJMXkcLej3gtyh80PV4bJWILzA95r9XohOWzqDb4uV0FW7yTriVfzECldsB0CK5KJYRQ1V_YMbhP-NRkP_RKDgWzYElYBp7UlfuQBt5jmkaEYlRB351XIa1f2f6Sh_qCdzWyPNsNd87gIo21KzYQ9RpbxF2t01sLKB83L6u5MMpTQ0S0oFXiFHY6www=w151-h200" width="151" /></a></div><br />The Schrecks and Smiths do birthday parties for the major birthdays: one, five, ten and so on. Otherwise, they explained to us, we would be celebrating a birthday every other month. (They have four children each and when Olivia is born, we will be a family of Eighteen people! Yes, Christmas and the other celebrations are indeed loud, chaotic, amazing events for us.)<p></p><p>We'll be celebrating Abigail's birthday in grand fashion on Saturday evening. She asked that the decorations be cat related as she's trying to talk her parents into giving her a kitten. Unfortunately, two-thirds of our family are allergic to cats so that probably won't be happening.</p><p>This picture is from our birthday lunch with her when she was five. She had her choice of any restaurant in town and she chose Chick-Fil-A. They still had a playground open at the time and when you combine that with a chocolate dipped ice cream cone from DQ, you come out looking like amazing grandparents. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjz7xOwC1v_9cJY4eGOIucosquVfqJ6kRCgTOhBnykS1oXOOEMQxYCONKHmyg4MP3YWAtxVvUrhQOyLzoPAx3za1eWKH2lp8zxpwrRhVJGeMBP-rSiF7P-Q0ALiDS1PViVxj-dyAsT0A70vLjEexbwH03CUoNroMPZbKf95ueCrTSbditwDFgpflV7ffQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="726" data-original-width="995" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjz7xOwC1v_9cJY4eGOIucosquVfqJ6kRCgTOhBnykS1oXOOEMQxYCONKHmyg4MP3YWAtxVvUrhQOyLzoPAx3za1eWKH2lp8zxpwrRhVJGeMBP-rSiF7P-Q0ALiDS1PViVxj-dyAsT0A70vLjEexbwH03CUoNroMPZbKf95ueCrTSbditwDFgpflV7ffQ=w200-h146" width="200" /></a></div><br />Looking back like this is good for us all because it reminds us of the importance of little steps. There's nothing so big about taking two hours to bake a sour cream pound cake. It takes even less planning to share lunch utilizing a playground and some ice cream for entertainment. But Abby enjoyed both little adventures.<p></p><p>I've met lots of people who think life is all about big, grand moments. The trip to Disney. The cruise to the Bahamas. The new car at sixteen.</p><p>Those are great. Nothing wrong with them if you can afford them. But I think many people who are waiting for the big moments run the risk of missing life that's also found in the small things. </p><p>Abby is blessed because both sets of her grandparents value the small moment investments. She talks with her grandparents in NY almost every week. And little packages arrive in the mail frequently. When Grandma and Grandpa visit, the children are lavished with undivided attention. They know they are loved.</p><p>This final picture is from Abby's first birthday. I remember taking this picture (and the half dozen others I also took trying to get one good picture with her holding still and looking at the camera. LOL)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgVIRwLzX_JRbVEUtYw6N1k6Z8nk5aYVSK6kaFtV0SRd_juJh79XoI_Y6lZ-dewH2IWY2SeqbIY1PK0iVbkjnnSUBVQGQfGXhcuSq_Ldf_s0ic7xvIdg8UGCPVsQSfZY3Qg8nFv5XKryjsMtfB13LG1OQtOBVaA9HcVnqF2uvI01e06DVTkYyUM24pAdw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="893" data-original-width="1170" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgVIRwLzX_JRbVEUtYw6N1k6Z8nk5aYVSK6kaFtV0SRd_juJh79XoI_Y6lZ-dewH2IWY2SeqbIY1PK0iVbkjnnSUBVQGQfGXhcuSq_Ldf_s0ic7xvIdg8UGCPVsQSfZY3Qg8nFv5XKryjsMtfB13LG1OQtOBVaA9HcVnqF2uvI01e06DVTkYyUM24pAdw=w200-h153" width="200" /></a></div><p></p><p><br />The point is, it feels like I took this picture yesterday. Time flies, friends. Scroll back up and see how quickly. Same sweet eyes. Same infectious smile. But 3,650 days have passed between them. </p><p>We have shared a few big moments but more important have been the dozens of little ones. Little moments listening to her jabber on about things I didn't really understand. Little moments making eye contact that communicated, "You are important!" Little moments singing "Baby Shark" together at the top of our lungs. Little moments sitting beside one another, squeezing her hand before she ran off to play with her cousins. </p><p>Those moments may not seem like much when they happen but I assure you, life is richest when woven of countless little threads that offer strength and warmth against the cold, harsh days. </p><p>Make time for the little moments, friends. Those are the greatest gifts you can offer anyone you love. </p><p><i>Happy Birthday, Abby Grace! May the your love for the Heavenly Father grow even stronger during the next decade of your life. Noni and Papa pray so daily and love you more than we have words to tell.</i></p><i> </i><div><i>How about you? Do you only mark the main birthdays? How many grandchildren do you have? Can you share one great "little moment" idea that would help the rest of us? Please leave your comment in the section below. Thanks for stopping by!</i></div>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-31511328639197447442022-06-08T17:32:00.006-04:002022-06-09T11:09:50.828-04:00One Friend<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Sometimes your next step forward comes through a major life change. Something big and jolting takes place then you are forced to make a step of transition. </span></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Sometimes the next step forward comes as a result of a gentle nudge from someone who cares. that friendly nudge arrived in my email yesterday from Becky, "Just want you to know someone out here is missing your blog." </span></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;">That one sentence from just one friend was the encouragement I needed to get back in gear and make a post happen. Today!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfqPlzeLGL76vAh7xloZ__FcdboEwtC9RMw1cy6al0musLmnoKnjeK_ZrdBWoggK4T-Ak7wtjRE0aML2OPa-uSAU1f3--fQm2VHeuKfdyCay5bPZohpG_GqSUDMyuICdtpHZ-xdIeg28_UKrbLZ47TJgMWAxr8Z9Q80JdI4bUH_M0lQCzENFpz-4kzKQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfqPlzeLGL76vAh7xloZ__FcdboEwtC9RMw1cy6al0musLmnoKnjeK_ZrdBWoggK4T-Ak7wtjRE0aML2OPa-uSAU1f3--fQm2VHeuKfdyCay5bPZohpG_GqSUDMyuICdtpHZ-xdIeg28_UKrbLZ47TJgMWAxr8Z9Q80JdI4bUH_M0lQCzENFpz-4kzKQ=w200-h150" width="200" /></a></div><br /><br /></div></div></span>This picture was taken just about two hours ago. Frank has had health issues since the first of the year and today should be the final procedure moving him back to full health. Can you see the smile behind our masks?</div><p></p><div><div style="text-align: left;">We are grateful for nurses and doctors who are incredibly knowledgeable. But on a day like this, we’re also thankful for those who remember that their workplace is intimidating, cold, overwhelming and downright frightening for the rest of us.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div>Gloria, Kelly, Stephanie and Dr. Brown filled the bill beautifully for us this morning. Patiently answering questions, meeting needs, anticipating requests and offering genuine kindness. Thanks to all of you in the medical field who read Embrace the Grace.</div><div><br /></div><div>This picture is also part of the reason I haven’t been writing. Our family has been experiencing an unusual amount of medical issues. (Of course, when your “family” is comprised of eight adults -one of which is pregnant- and nine little people, some ER and doctor visits are to be expected, I guess.) But in six months we’ve had three surgeries, two biopsies, multiple MRI’s and CAT scans and another surgery on the horizon. That really is a lot for a family that’s typically healthy.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Today I want to focus on the importance of ONE. </div><div><br /></div><div>Many of you may feel like I have lately, a bit overwhelmed by life. Pretty sure I have nothing of value to offer anyone else at this moment. Thinking my contribution isn’t being missed by anyone and that it’s so much easier to move to the back of the room and sit silently.</div><div><br /></div><div>But all it took for me to shake my head and re-engage was one email from one friend saying, “Those thoughts are not true. I miss you!” </div></div><div><br /></div><div><div>Are you supposed to be the ONE in the life of <i>your</i> friend today?</div><div><br /></div><div>May I encourage you, don’t keep sitting silently in the back of the room. Shake yourself. Send that email; write that card; make that call. Someone needs your ONE word of encouragement and you don’t even know how badly they need it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Be the ONE in the life of another. I can promise that every seed of encouragement you sow into the heart of someone else, will eventually bloom and come back to supply you when you need it most. </div><div><br /></div><div><div>The wisest man who ever lived (Solomon) put it this way, <i>"The generous will prosper; those who refresh others will themselves be refreshed." Proverbs 11:25 NLT</i></div></div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks, Becky. You’re ONE refreshing friend!</div></div><div><br /></div></div>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-73160963858102442032022-05-09T13:06:00.002-04:002022-05-09T13:06:16.916-04:00A True Lady!<p>Happy Mother's Day to every mom, grandma, step-mom, mother-in-law and spiritual mother stopping by to read today! I hope you felt loved on Mother's Day whether it was a homemade card or the finest Hallmark can offer - each is special when given from the heart. </p><p>So thankful for these three beauties who made me a mom.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRdwQZ-eATlxaupBydO7M3yjNlq9IZxdWRtJTRlvUGSSSG9UOh1SzT2_7whYLy3AJSVosUXECznCwQpPHVLnmwwu3xBxFmHG_iGD2qzqb46kS-BIfE140JEjnycaUpiAJB92J_CQJ79UGmi2dpxJj7aS_NBT1iqmzIHCy1M65RiQvB4ZRrVH2QN9qsDw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1560" data-original-width="1170" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRdwQZ-eATlxaupBydO7M3yjNlq9IZxdWRtJTRlvUGSSSG9UOh1SzT2_7whYLy3AJSVosUXECznCwQpPHVLnmwwu3xBxFmHG_iGD2qzqb46kS-BIfE140JEjnycaUpiAJB92J_CQJ79UGmi2dpxJj7aS_NBT1iqmzIHCy1M65RiQvB4ZRrVH2QN9qsDw=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><br />As you can see, Kristin is very pregnant with Olivia who is due to arrive somewhere around July 16th. Joy has been on a health challenge with John and is looking very slim. Meagan and I find ourselves somewhere in the middle. Such fun and such a gift to all be in church together yesterday. I do not take that for granted.<p></p><p>Here are the pictures we grabbed of the second generation. (Parker wasn't able to be with us for these.) In this picture, we're all buttoned up and looking at the camera. Angelic smiles wreath each face. Are they not so precious?!</p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhk6tYccjBy9mENEiYgbvuDf1SmLjkm_8iaG8LZwx4RsmMlJemJXbrxHZc9ZNGKY6kN_26W6R3l1q8XwWdR4Y3mQBWluC4Je6iqY0RkrguAbboiHgLyTlU25Z5L05BOrwrv7RUOX1GbFBL65G58__H6HHL-YE0RA5C51WxOU1xA7m94Y-C6Bd-Ayg1vXA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="831" data-original-width="1075" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhk6tYccjBy9mENEiYgbvuDf1SmLjkm_8iaG8LZwx4RsmMlJemJXbrxHZc9ZNGKY6kN_26W6R3l1q8XwWdR4Y3mQBWluC4Je6iqY0RkrguAbboiHgLyTlU25Z5L05BOrwrv7RUOX1GbFBL65G58__H6HHL-YE0RA5C51WxOU1xA7m94Y-C6Bd-Ayg1vXA=w200-h155" width="200" /></a></div><br />And here you have the more realistic version of our tribe trying to gather for any family photo.</div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOvodxEjppdJfAnyA_m9TnVLrirNBrp0fn_aKAbnH34DByE0_wIJF3MXqwG6k25Nyw6RnTh8Wo-c37xIkBzG5rhmxNooge6CzX-dv3i2ZVWxLeGCF9qQQOaye50LrtQmfjEN9kR1_KSOk93NwnWuiDi-miLYwPEQb8bwjeSEAffmCDPu2b5cJgRZvRHA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="794" data-original-width="1143" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgOvodxEjppdJfAnyA_m9TnVLrirNBrp0fn_aKAbnH34DByE0_wIJF3MXqwG6k25Nyw6RnTh8Wo-c37xIkBzG5rhmxNooge6CzX-dv3i2ZVWxLeGCF9qQQOaye50LrtQmfjEN9kR1_KSOk93NwnWuiDi-miLYwPEQb8bwjeSEAffmCDPu2b5cJgRZvRHA=w200-h139" width="200" /></a></div><br />Look familiar to any of you? I thought it might. <p></p><p>We've found that if we promise a silly picture and actually take it, they are more likely to work together helping us get one good shot that we had envisioned when we started this mammoth task. Yes, it is like herding cats but we're up for the challenge.</p><p>I had the privilege of bringing the message yesterday which is always one of my favorite times to preach. Women need encouragement as they do their best to follow Christ in today's world. It's important that we watch for opportunities to encourage one another.</p><p>How well I remember my own days as a young mom with three little girls looking to me for direction. Each day seemed to have major struggles or difficulty and it was up to me to frame our life in a positive way. (I recently heard someone say we can't always choose our feelings but we can choose our words, so let them be encouraging.)</p><p>Here's a special Olan Mills presentation of our three angels during the time I'm talking about. This would have been around 1989. No wonder our grandchildren are so adorable, right?!</p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZ_cB_rg-vPGV995GnhW9R2wTO95KDniEcQyi3JIO3KgMLe0ylUGkNvdCcTt_PuTaw1MPVVH3lYXqrAT9KN-GNTQ_WH_9iDDXs5UrIMFsZQSRpsQ1n_AT914Voq9u2cp-DCPPTTcf8_ey9LnS5zj4aRYoU_Ih5HZ-gR8UhD_TecRbjlB9IADueXDMQoA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1751" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZ_cB_rg-vPGV995GnhW9R2wTO95KDniEcQyi3JIO3KgMLe0ylUGkNvdCcTt_PuTaw1MPVVH3lYXqrAT9KN-GNTQ_WH_9iDDXs5UrIMFsZQSRpsQ1n_AT914Voq9u2cp-DCPPTTcf8_ey9LnS5zj4aRYoU_Ih5HZ-gR8UhD_TecRbjlB9IADueXDMQoA=w200-h143" width="200" /></a></div><br />One of the scriptures I held to as a young mom was Psalm 121: 1-2. David was experiencing difficulty as he wrote this psalm. He describes for us how he goes out and looks up at the hills around him. He then ponders if this is where his help comes from? He answers his own question with determination, "My help comes from the Lord. The maker of heaven and earth."<p></p><p>When our girls were little, we lived in the mountains and I would often follow David's example literally. I would go outside and look at those massive mountains. I would think about how secure and unmovable they were. Then I would say out loud for my own heart to hear, "My help is even greater than these mountains. My help comes from the Lord who made these mountains!"</p><p>Somehow saying it out loud always helped recalibrate my soul and gave me strength to address whatever that day might hold. (Feel free to try this method wherever you find yourself today.)</p><p>My message of encouragement to the congregation yesterday was simple. Based on the scripture, my title was "Look Up, Dear Lady. Look Up!" I took the word lady and made an acrostic elaborating on each point. </p><p>Dear Lady, you are:</p><p><b>L</b>OVED more than you know.</p><p><b>A</b>DDING VALUE to the world around you. </p><p><b>D</b>AUGHTER of the KING and your</p><p><b>Y</b>EARNINGS are KNOWN by God.</p><p>I wrapped it up by reminding the ladies how important it is for us to spend time with the Lord. We can talk to Him about the struggles we face and we should express gratitude for the joys we experience. </p><p>At the end, we all met at the altar for a time of doing just that. The men of the congregation gathered behind the ladies and prayed blessing for them all. It was a special service, indeed.</p><p>I want to close with this picture.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgYi_kydD5jq7BwfvJpCwyj6fF74jodzMbSpWdi4ppl3ydamVZBCRq7HJYbm9bqVv0rioNqvdCZaTnoG8On8L03dJF3C2GGY4POBjOrvhZtVyjKI7SARZRv0eKmkUy8emicpXRdXwu4BIByElHxuS7KQ1kMwA3YPDqBGbf1YgWPouonK7uOH1GMFG73hw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3115" data-original-width="2020" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgYi_kydD5jq7BwfvJpCwyj6fF74jodzMbSpWdi4ppl3ydamVZBCRq7HJYbm9bqVv0rioNqvdCZaTnoG8On8L03dJF3C2GGY4POBjOrvhZtVyjKI7SARZRv0eKmkUy8emicpXRdXwu4BIByElHxuS7KQ1kMwA3YPDqBGbf1YgWPouonK7uOH1GMFG73hw=w130-h200" width="130" /></a></div><br />This is one of the last pictures we had made of my Grandma Miller and her precious Kissy. Grandma was born in Liberty, Indiana on May 7, 1902. That means this year was the 120th anniversary of her birth. There are a hundred stories I could tell about this woman who impacted my life. But the main thing I want you to know is that she exemplified, to me, all the qualities of a true lady. <p></p><p>Her example is one I follow even now as I'm trying to create memories with my grandchildren. And who knows? Maybe in another 60-70 years one of them will be able to show a picture of me and honestly say, "My Noni was a True Lady." Thanks what I'm hoping for, anyway. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><i>How did you mark Mother's Day? Was your life greatly impacted by a grandmother? Are you blessed to still have your mother living? We'd love to read your comments in the box below. </i></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p> </p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-20018745476249209312022-04-30T19:33:00.000-04:002022-04-30T19:33:53.653-04:00Finding Gold<p>Frank and I just returned from a wonderful week at a pastor's retreat sponsored by the Billy Graham Training Center. It was just what the doctor ordered after Easter.</p><p>I wanted to get another post on for April so I reached back a few years for this beauty. It inspired me again as I read it. Certainly hope you find it encouraging, too.</p><p><br /></p><p>One rainy Saturday afternoon, Mom and I were watching a western movie on TV. At the time, I was just a teenager. Halfway through, the hero of the movie was being encouraged to abandon the mine where he and others had been working. "It's hopeless," said the villain. "Give it up! You'll never find anything anyway."<br /><br />At that very moment an old man, weathered and leathery-looking, came hobbling out of the saloon. He had heard the conversation and knew it looked hopeless but he also knew that with hard work, success was possible. (Apparently, the villain just wanted the mine for himself.) The old fella declared boldly in a pinched, uneducated voice, <i>"Thar's gold in them thar hills!!</i>" His statement (so funny sounding) immediately became a by-line for Mom and me.<br /><br />If I faced something that required more work than I originally thought but the reward would be great, Mom would look at me, wink one eye and in her best imitation of the old miner she'd say, <i>"Thar's gold in them thar hills, Sheri!"</i> (In other words, keep working. Don't give up now!)<br /><br />If I found Mom quietly crying because of some disappointment, I would slide up beside her, give her my best daughter hug and whisper, <i>"Thar's gold in them thar hills, Mama."</i> She would start chuckling even if the tears weren't quite finished. "Well I sure hope I find some soon," she often answered.<br /><br />I hadn't thought of our little inside joke for a long time, until this morning when I struck gold. I'll have to back up a bit to explain.<br /><br />We purchased our current home eleven years ago. We had just become pastors in FL after serving as evangelists for six years. During the evangelist years, we lived in a forty-foot RV. I can assure you that living as a family in 400 square feet helps you know what household items are important and which ones you can live without.<br /><br />Moving from the RV back to a full-sized home left me with quite a few vacant spots. We needed everything from beds and bedding, to living room furniture, lamps, decorations, even a shower curtain. Needless to say, I was constantly on the look out for inexpensive ways to fill our household.<br /><br />The young man we bought our house from was a bachelor engaged to be married. The house had been, for him, simply an investment so his furnishings were rather sparse as well. At the walk through, I noticed a lovely set of dishes he had just sitting against one wall.<br /><br />"Those are beautiful," I commented.<br /><br />"One of the ladies in my church gave them to me," he said. "We won't use them. Would you like them?"<br /><br />Although dishes weren't actually on my list, I really liked the look of them and answered, "Sure!" It was a complete service for eight and FREE. If I didn't use them, one of the girls probably would. The dishes promptly went into storage in the garage.<br /><br />Fast forward to my season of purging and reorganizing - that would be now. The dishes I've been using for everyday ware are lovely but after five years of constant service they were showing their age. I decided to sell them in the yard sale we had and start looking around for a replacement set.<br /><br />That's when I remembered the dishes in storage.<br /><br />They would do just fine as my temporary set. Only problem, our family has grown to 13 and we would need more dishes. I went online to search out where to pick up a few more pieces. That's when the discovery was made.<br /><br />The simple blue and white plates, cups, saucers and such that had been sitting in dark storage bins for eleven years are actually a fine grade of willow ware made in Stafforshire, England. It's known as the Winston Churchill collection.<br /><br />The meat platter alone cost over $300! I was in total shock. I had no idea such exquisite and expensive beauty had been hidden away in my garage, serving no one all these years.<br /><br />This morning as I carefully unpacked, washed and shelved the Winston Churchill collection, my mind whirled with so many unanswered thoughts:<br /><br /></p><ul><li>Who was the original owner?</li><li>Was it a set slowly collected or perhaps wedding dishes for some young bride?</li><li>Were they often used or seldom?</li><li>Was there laughter around their table, too?</li><li>Why did the lady give them to the bachelor?</li><li>Was no one in her family interested in them?</li><li>Did no one appreciate their value?</li></ul><div>As always, the Lord used my ponderings to whisper a truth to my heart. <i> "Sheri, there are pockets of gold hidden all around you. You must have eyes to see it and a willingness to work at mining the gold. Appreciate what I've placed in your hands."</i></div><div><br /></div><div>For me, that translates to:</div><div><ul><li>Watch for the people around you who are pure gold. They may be quiet and you may have to mine their gifts. But appreciate them; see them!</li><li>Watch for the moments of gold. A pat on the face from tiny jam hands. A tender kiss good-bye. A hug from a true friend. A casual, "Love you, Mom!"</li><li>Watch for the golden life lessons. Hardships that made you stronger. Lonely times that push you toward friends. Answered prayers that remind you of God's faithfulness. </li></ul><div>All this from a revived set of dishes. </div><div><br /></div><div>I wish Mom were here this Mother's Day to marvel with me over this amazing story. I wish she and I could share some coffee using the finely crafted cups. I wish I could eat one of her wonderful meals served on the rich blue and white pattern. That can't happen. </div><div><br /></div><div>But I <i>can</i> imagine the twinkle in her eye and the wink as she would surely look sideways at me and say, "Never stop looking, Sheri. <i><b>Thar's gold in them thar hills!"</b></i></div></div><div><br /></div><p>Here's praying you'll find the gold waiting to be discovered in your own life! </p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-70970120734591659482022-04-22T19:38:00.002-04:002022-04-22T19:38:22.710-04:00Is it Still Easter?<p> He Is Risen! He Is Risen, INDEED!!</p><p>As followers of Christ, that's our greeting for Easter. I didn't actually learn that until a couple of decades ago but that doesn't stop me from using it liberally now. How about you?</p><p>Here's my favorite picture from the day - </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhM0nIpPklqkIwBLeU0DdxQjrgE8NWxTAyTaOCOm9zvS-MtZA_vS6MdzF_rLV42MMMasuFEhv3l5kdpKg-nDOMZUpMgzAyqwRt1RnchKAIO883gvMX4DNuNs0P0me_k093slVa9aqEaNPGPu4DX1jtd86biImxpU8LD3X4QuYFztHTJJx2pesTRIM1EKA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="592" data-original-width="750" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhM0nIpPklqkIwBLeU0DdxQjrgE8NWxTAyTaOCOm9zvS-MtZA_vS6MdzF_rLV42MMMasuFEhv3l5kdpKg-nDOMZUpMgzAyqwRt1RnchKAIO883gvMX4DNuNs0P0me_k093slVa9aqEaNPGPu4DX1jtd86biImxpU8LD3X4QuYFztHTJJx2pesTRIM1EKA=w200-h158" width="200" /></a></div><br />Are those not some of the most adorable grandbabies you ever saw?! (Yes, that was indeed a rhetorical question.) <p></p><p>The back row is L to R: Noah Smith 8, Abby Schreck 9, Spencer Schreck 11, Andrew Smith 2 and Madi Smith 5. You can't see her but Meagan is actually hiding and holding up Andrew because he had had enough of picture taking by the time we did this one. </p><p>The front row L to R: Zach Schreck 5, Grayson Smith 3, Parker McGhee 3 and Ava Schreck 4. Spencer just had his birthday in February but seven summer birthdays are on the horizon. What a Crew!!</p><p>The weeks leading up to Easter 2022 were (for our family) full of joy, sickness, unexpected emergencies and even a couple of surgeries. Needless to say, my spring decorations appeared in a very limited form two days before our Easter dinner. </p><p>Some of you readers will remember that I've always declared April to be my favorite month of the year. Christmas is my favorite season and Easter is my favorite holiday. (Do you get the idea that I just enjoy looking for opportunities to celebrate?)</p><p>But this was the first Easter of the past 37 that Frank and I haven't enjoyed a private sunrise service with our girls. Yes, it was a bit sad for me. He and I began this tradition when Kristin was a toddler and Joy was only eight months old. Meagan had not yet made her appearance.</p><p>Our plan was simply to make the day about more than just new dresses, Easter baskets and egg hunts. We wanted to do something that brought the day alive for our girls. </p><p>We figured reading the Bible account of the women going to the tomb at dawn while experiencing their own sunrise would do just that. After the reading, we sang resurrection songs with croaky morning voices and prayed together thanking God for the gift of salvation. Then it was on to breakfast which always included orange cinnamon rolls.</p><p>We've morphed and adapted our tradition many times through the years. But last year, the girls talked with me afterward explaining that it was just too much for them to get their children up and out the door for us to share a sunrise service together anymore. </p><p>It wasn't easy but it was something I needed to understand in order to keep our relationship strong. </p><p>So, I chose to be okay.</p><p>Frank is a good husband who read the timeless story with just he and I on the back porch Easter morning. He even attempted a song but I couldn't sing and cry at the same time. Vocal chords are funny that way. </p><p>Here's the picture of us later in the morning. Isn't he handsome? (Again, rhetorical.)</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhF2m0JJmNpDrEN6m6JNtKReIii872B0--93Zwzm_CpvNJdA9RAgbPbprnsCPpnzggoci9_IMWuEf_4ngNE_Ywn8_bPkE_1m929_Bt8ETgGro7ZJMUVfO6PZ5-twNqLQqhToifADJqIuG9drmDmKdukeRHW_1kZZcDRhpbm220O1mhzVqeBfiSOgqcSdw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="943" data-original-width="750" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhF2m0JJmNpDrEN6m6JNtKReIii872B0--93Zwzm_CpvNJdA9RAgbPbprnsCPpnzggoci9_IMWuEf_4ngNE_Ywn8_bPkE_1m929_Bt8ETgGro7ZJMUVfO6PZ5-twNqLQqhToifADJqIuG9drmDmKdukeRHW_1kZZcDRhpbm220O1mhzVqeBfiSOgqcSdw=w159-h200" width="159" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>I'm smiling genuinely because once we arrived at church (around 6:30 and 7:00) we were immediately reminded how fortunate we are. John and his team had been working since 5:30. Our auditorium wouldn't hold everyone for Easter so we were meeting under a tent. Lots of fun for those who arrived just before service but LOTS of work for our tech team. </p><p>And arrive they did! </p><p>We offered breakfast for the early birds and a free family photo. (Scarlette Photography. Jamie does amazing work. Did you notice that all those grandbaby eyes were OPEN?!)</p><p>As the people gathered, the joy and energy were electric. Everyone was so thankful to be together. There was laughter, conversation, hugs and handshakes all around. </p><p>The worship was absolutely powerful and Frank did a wonderful job recounting once again the most important story in all of history: the Death, Burial and Resurrection of Christ. </p><p>There was a holy hush on the crowd when he asked this pointed question, "Now, what will you do with the gift that has been provided for you?" No need to pound the pulpit or coerce anyone. He spoke it tenderly as a father would to his children. We all felt the weight of such a question and decision.</p><p>We're sure many were challenged to follow Christ.</p><p>After the service, we got our pictures with the grands and each family did their own individual shot. There was so much happening, we never managed to get one all together but you'll enjoy these, I'm sure. </p><p>In order, The McGhees. Kristin, Cody, Parker and Olivia who will make her appearance this July. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjTcYux2UOmFDZEzfmLrZGRgtpOegZozR6GmdTOUrIaDo3AHGL7EbcydGxTAaLWzEbpz8Ds00NCywsuUMKM9IOKEVmxilTHjjtwEqsfp1meZozYCtAsmurqjNL2Pe8frQmOC8P4JMWyYlmZsC9JgycSA9w-y8XeaqV42bHZJv4cYEdt2fksmjy9sE2C_A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="428" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjTcYux2UOmFDZEzfmLrZGRgtpOegZozR6GmdTOUrIaDo3AHGL7EbcydGxTAaLWzEbpz8Ds00NCywsuUMKM9IOKEVmxilTHjjtwEqsfp1meZozYCtAsmurqjNL2Pe8frQmOC8P4JMWyYlmZsC9JgycSA9w-y8XeaqV42bHZJv4cYEdt2fksmjy9sE2C_A=w171-h200" width="171" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>Next would be the Schrecks. Spencer, Zach, John, Joy, Ava and Abby. (Abby had eye surgery three weeks ago and is still recovering; although, the surgeon said it went well.)</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiod5jkGtgl2EnhakPgxSRqatoV-7nW1uZQ49F5LBM-q4knyPEVPdN8E1mCXpCQzkIsXbeDC-4U0wWX9h_3gzHzr-MuuS5no4LKtEs0VmAxl9U5XZFjsxbyOPukd6oaWdiTm7fqhGuEtqsDAVPQwE6b_CdE7M7Arln2VJ59cJzR3-3nKyFCbrgB2wq35Q" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="653" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiod5jkGtgl2EnhakPgxSRqatoV-7nW1uZQ49F5LBM-q4knyPEVPdN8E1mCXpCQzkIsXbeDC-4U0wWX9h_3gzHzr-MuuS5no4LKtEs0VmAxl9U5XZFjsxbyOPukd6oaWdiTm7fqhGuEtqsDAVPQwE6b_CdE7M7Arln2VJ59cJzR3-3nKyFCbrgB2wq35Q=w200-h153" width="200" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>Finally, the Smiths. Madi, Nathan, Grayson, Andrew, Meagan and Noah. (They literally drove back to FL on Saturday after being in NC for the funeral of his precious Grandma Smith.) </p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgu8uc4RF5SKEzRHR9UxX96LqK20BO7QWZUPU3CucarhZLD4AJhJJO_SrAWbXgMJtV9I15LAgO1A09-_jLYZcAiS--cuHzNkvaTuOK4PZp1NefjZvRj5cre3g-L2mczz5mVlI7yOUjWtvxTh2mCuTmiEiU3-OBq4f3LZdXRMhi68j2EdzhAMy3YWFDpLQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="676" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgu8uc4RF5SKEzRHR9UxX96LqK20BO7QWZUPU3CucarhZLD4AJhJJO_SrAWbXgMJtV9I15LAgO1A09-_jLYZcAiS--cuHzNkvaTuOK4PZp1NefjZvRj5cre3g-L2mczz5mVlI7yOUjWtvxTh2mCuTmiEiU3-OBq4f3LZdXRMhi68j2EdzhAMy3YWFDpLQ=w200-h148" width="200" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>Who could be anything but joyful after scanning these beautiful smiles? We opted for an Easter dinner get together this year and when it started raining we chose to hide the Easter eggs in the house. Man oh man, was that search ever LOUD! We ended with a time of sharing the timeless story once more in a way the children could help explain and prayed together thanking Jesus for his sacrifice. </p><p>Yes, I ended the day exhausted but content.</p><p>Just in case you didn't smile yet, here's one more picture:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgA7JSxhCn-DSuk-NkMR7RuHcVNCc4XnXxyVgaWZ9U_UEkQJTxKYdu9l-UysozkymY8axIynUTmM_EGdpwan6AQtgZ0YcuEw3gBEzsd27EWj62SmHwgO_vYPpurPGnXKF6G0nh3O_uYvUj1b0uj2sn7wmSBt4ix6HS5OQZG4Cvzgp4myx1xv41VksqpnQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="750" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgA7JSxhCn-DSuk-NkMR7RuHcVNCc4XnXxyVgaWZ9U_UEkQJTxKYdu9l-UysozkymY8axIynUTmM_EGdpwan6AQtgZ0YcuEw3gBEzsd27EWj62SmHwgO_vYPpurPGnXKF6G0nh3O_uYvUj1b0uj2sn7wmSBt4ix6HS5OQZG4Cvzgp4myx1xv41VksqpnQ=w133-h200" width="133" /></a></div><br />Please look closely at Frank's feet. If you're reading in California, his feet look perfectly normal. But his mother in NC is yelling, "Did that boy not wear socks on Easter Sunday?!!" She is shaking her head with embarrassment, I assure you.<p></p><p>Actually, you can tell I'm laughing because he did forget his socks. (The men all came to church in work clothes then changed.) After our slotted photo time, I made a mad dash to the nearest CVS pharmacy and spent too much money on the last pack of dress socks they had available. Certainly glad Jamie captured this for posterity.</p><p>I opened this post with the question, "Is it still Easter?" </p><p>I'm well aware that many of you marked your Easter with massive changes from years gone by. All I had to deal with was a change of tradition. But you may have lost a family member during the past year. Others have a friend they've lost contact with or a child who won't return their calls. </p><p>My heart aches for you!</p><p>For you, the question is literal. Your heart cries out, "Is the resurrection of Christ still applicable? Does God even care about my pain today?" </p><p>And for you, my friend, there is a literal answer - YES! </p><p>I know from personal experience that the Bible writer was accurate when he told us that Jesus is very near the broken-hearted. Your pain, caused by this broken world we live in, is the very reason He gave His life. He died to restore relationship to God the Father for you and I. That relationship is the only perfect one and the only one that provides HOPE in every moment of question.</p><p>Is it still Easter? </p><p>Because he lives, I hope your answer is the same as mine, Yes! Every day I live knowing His love is Easter.</p><p><br /></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-13600442943819447742022-03-31T12:01:00.000-04:002022-03-31T12:01:17.767-04:00Simple Challenge<p> Hello Dear Friends!</p><p>I want to share with you a challenge we were given a couple of Sundays ago. John (our first son-in-law) preached the morning message. We've been doing a series called "This I Believe."</p><p>His part of the series was to explain why our church puts such a high priority on our children and youth departments. Bottom line: we want our church to be a living, vibrant place of worship and HOPE. </p><p>Nothing speaks of hope and future like toddlers running around, bumping into peoples' legs, looking up to see a smile, then responding with squeals of delight. It's really just the best.</p><p>Pastor John challenged us all to put down technology for three days. We were to only use our phones for calls and our computers for actual work. Otherwise, we were unplugging all games and unnecessary communication for those 72 hours. </p><p>Then we were to use the time we "gleaned" by being more intentionally present with family, with prayer or even exercise just to name three options he offered. Sounds simple enough - but it wasn't. </p><p>In fact, I'm putting the same challenge out to you today. I'd love to hear about your experience if you try it.</p><p>During my three days of technology fasting, I realized how often I look at my phone unnecessarily. The two biggest time stealers for me? Facebook and Solitaire. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcpZ4FWqChhWcPRciw32b8YzhZf12bhnT4k4ZguN3MWcZnkwJrfj64FFLrlPgwqbxBy-NYk5L0XSONp8VIwpdzxJGsHBCUoBTHJReN8oWL4ksscjGANhYytfP0IaCgFEcyNmGXL-FICZj1-9zE_kELyrOBzEimcdhnGgyKPbM8ML0cRNWVgZhSsinyeQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1093" data-original-width="750" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcpZ4FWqChhWcPRciw32b8YzhZf12bhnT4k4ZguN3MWcZnkwJrfj64FFLrlPgwqbxBy-NYk5L0XSONp8VIwpdzxJGsHBCUoBTHJReN8oWL4ksscjGANhYytfP0IaCgFEcyNmGXL-FICZj1-9zE_kELyrOBzEimcdhnGgyKPbM8ML0cRNWVgZhSsinyeQ=w138-h200" width="138" /></a></div><br />I use these when I'm waiting for other people or as a signal of "down time" when I'm stressed. Apparently, I'm a stressed waiter often!<p></p><p>When I did go back to play a game of solitaire on my phone, it started me thinking. Here's what I got from my silly game.</p><p>I almost always select the medium difficulty level for play. The easy level has little challenge. And while I can do the hardest level, I don't like the idea that many of those games have no solution. </p><p>The manufacturer of the game on my phone assures players that for the medium level there IS a solution; and I like that assurance. I play as though I believe what the manufacturer has promised. </p><p>Please understand, I have worked on some of those games for days at a time. There is this annoying little sound once you make the final move and it appears there is no way to solve the game. But I am armed with the information from the manufacturer saying there IS indeed a solution. I just have to back up and try again to find it. And that's precisely what I do.</p><p>Many times, I've had to take my phone to Frank (who is considerably better at solitaire than me) and implore him to help. Typically, he finds the answer within just a few attempts. But one way or the other, I keep at it until I find the solution. I'm a little embarrassed to admit to you - I've played and won a couple thousand games in the years I've owned this particular phone. (Yep, time thief.)</p><p>I thought of the people around me who find themselves in puzzling situations. They hear all the annoying signals that seem to say, "There is no solution to this problem." </p><p>But friend, I want to remind you that the Manufacturer of Life has sent us a message. He has clearly indicated that there IS a solution to all life's puzzling problems. We have only to spend time with Him and He will help us move toward that solution. After leaning in to hear Him, we move forward again living as though we believe His promise.</p><p>Isn't that Encouraging?! It was for me.</p><p>I'll close with this assurance from the Manufacturer of Life:</p><p><i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, "helvetica neue", helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">“The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, "helvetica neue", helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> (Lamentations 3:22-23 ESV)</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, "helvetica neue", helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span></i></p><p><span style="font-family: Roboto, helvetica neue, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">There is a solution to your puzzling situation. Don't give up. Come close to this loving Father and He will help you find the solution.</span></span></p><p><br /></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-4892224924809214932022-02-28T14:19:00.001-05:002022-02-28T14:19:14.432-05:00Short Month; Long Days<p><i>We are all in prayer for the nation of Ukraine and I will have a post about my connection there later. Today, I simply hope to help you smile.</i></p><p><br /></p><p>Did anyone else catch this saying when your children were young? <i>The years fly and the days drag. Try to enjoy them all.</i></p><p>I thought that would only be true while I was a mom with toddlers. Seems it's still true 40 years later.</p><p>During this, the shortest month of the year, I've walked some long uncertain days involving hospitals and ERs and doctor's offices. But I can finally say, I'm thankful everyone seems to be on the road to recovery. </p><p>No one had a single illness, seems when my family get sick they do it up right. Frank started the month with a serious infection that morphed into a UTI as well as a serious cough. Then, we got the call that my dad and his wife were admitted to the hospital with covid. (Dad added pneumonia, a UTI and extreme confusion, as well.) We finished the month with Meagan and Nathan both having covid. However, Meagan then developed bronchitis and pneumonia. </p><p>See what I mean?! A crazy four weeks, indeed.</p><p>I don't want to go much further without a picture so I'll share this new classic with you. It's been years since my brother, sister and I were all together in the same spot. We intentionally overlapped our time helping care for Dad so we could have a couple of days together.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgz5UrpDz2E9rn7JoVnTEusBrbGhrUTbkeuftWTLpVFGqfES8WfI0BvgGCUVvOQ1fz9NsyhQJdrOdNp9eJNjDBfQCdYqJNxj7NfyO_f-iWXYaHhaXVTlei7habtL9fuyPSUY4c9vWLjWWXL47fQ4UI9qezXVXcwKGcAUvVr7a88iUgYmcRgUZguFx8NCA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3156" data-original-width="2367" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgz5UrpDz2E9rn7JoVnTEusBrbGhrUTbkeuftWTLpVFGqfES8WfI0BvgGCUVvOQ1fz9NsyhQJdrOdNp9eJNjDBfQCdYqJNxj7NfyO_f-iWXYaHhaXVTlei7habtL9fuyPSUY4c9vWLjWWXL47fQ4UI9qezXVXcwKGcAUvVr7a88iUgYmcRgUZguFx8NCA=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>My brother and his precious wife recently moved to the little community where dad grew up and now lives again. What a comfort to know someone is close by when emergencies happen like this. Buddy was able to go to the hospital and although he couldn't visit, they knew he was stopping by each day. </p><p>I also have to commend the nurses and doctors who took care of them. Dad and Christeen were taken to a small, rural hospital but they received excellent care and the team made themselves available to answer our questions each time I called. (Yes, I did call multiple times each day but never during shift change. LOL)</p><p>We all four managed to get in this shot. We're all laughing because someone had to pose us then run to jump into the picture just before the camera clicked. Running and jumping are not on the list of our regular, daily activities. Can I get an Amen?! </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTW_v_17wa-exLNlyZvJcLV0Pvz1ljZ6jfNrjndVPlWPmiSnvl6aToVC_dTS8EQ_udhF0wIo7SDc4tix-OqZZpR9YKmkYhRKwxdqc4xuko7LICLYl4WtDKq3dvkbrHdOAgNfHnHz-imA0uzDg1kOrgAVhCzzIvWhhxlt8PRDn-NBaB12WMw5nXu7_Fzg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1314" data-original-width="1416" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTW_v_17wa-exLNlyZvJcLV0Pvz1ljZ6jfNrjndVPlWPmiSnvl6aToVC_dTS8EQ_udhF0wIo7SDc4tix-OqZZpR9YKmkYhRKwxdqc4xuko7LICLYl4WtDKq3dvkbrHdOAgNfHnHz-imA0uzDg1kOrgAVhCzzIvWhhxlt8PRDn-NBaB12WMw5nXu7_Fzg=w200-h185" width="200" /></a></div><p>Frank was improving just as Buddy called me to say the hospital was ready to discharge Dad but someone would need to stay with him 24/7 for a while. I packed quickly Saturday night then jumped in the car just after dawn Sunday morning in order to drive the seven hours and relieve my brother. Vonnie flew in on Tuesday to finish out the week. Dad will be 85 this fall and I wonder if he really knows just how much his kids love him. But when it's your parents, you just do, right?</p><p>Here's a fun shot of the three Burke offspring. (Not sure what I was trying to do. HMMMM.) We intentionally stood in front of this huge camellia bush. Mom planted it right after she and Dad moved back to the country. She loved how they bloom even in winter.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhU4YUnbpAvXdq9mnkoIl4QN5bKlLk7MIaW1t7pxveu-Um_buo6I5A_xhnoEwrmNkXpbQ6DadKkVyXqYsbUzwXq46cEVJ_TFXqL-MbA06a2EA8aeFPwb66XGxQbxJGIqUEzr5IqbY3odnqmXc-LG7wjKznLrf8NEXy4Ae3JFcVigIAoI2BxTUb5zn8nXQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2137" data-original-width="1414" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhU4YUnbpAvXdq9mnkoIl4QN5bKlLk7MIaW1t7pxveu-Um_buo6I5A_xhnoEwrmNkXpbQ6DadKkVyXqYsbUzwXq46cEVJ_TFXqL-MbA06a2EA8aeFPwb66XGxQbxJGIqUEzr5IqbY3odnqmXc-LG7wjKznLrf8NEXy4Ae3JFcVigIAoI2BxTUb5zn8nXQ=w133-h200" width="133" /></a></div><p></p><p>Dad slept - a lot. So there was time for long, easy conversations and lots of good meals prepared for the purpose of tempting appetites and healing bodies. Dad was gaining ground by the time I left Thursday morning. Here's one more selfie with just Dad, my sister and me.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTIZLAHSfTYMBZxcaqv3txlxZaT1C8PZAxtMEH5xlWPm6rq2XvRsWfXSTZOIZxTGZxPLHLXIQ39cGlglqlRboV6oncZzWqpoZBGA8sqTVfi5HsLf6A16NjjKAZAhTO3YSg2Zt8o3m_-FuQdkQEoQJwMDrnu8s_yVy4l2hjxCfm-Fp8V7hAzE_1wFhmQw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2708" data-original-width="2320" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTIZLAHSfTYMBZxcaqv3txlxZaT1C8PZAxtMEH5xlWPm6rq2XvRsWfXSTZOIZxTGZxPLHLXIQ39cGlglqlRboV6oncZzWqpoZBGA8sqTVfi5HsLf6A16NjjKAZAhTO3YSg2Zt8o3m_-FuQdkQEoQJwMDrnu8s_yVy4l2hjxCfm-Fp8V7hAzE_1wFhmQw=w172-h200" width="172" /></a></div><br />A few quiet days and then the Smiths found themselves in trouble. I say "in trouble" because when you have two sick adults and four active little children who aren't sick, the parents are in trouble. The fact that none of us could take the children made it even more difficult. Covid is not a team sport. <p></p><p>Of course, we did come alongside by preparing meals and offering encouragement over the phone. Even some from our church family did, as well. There may even have been a few treats thrown in for good measure.</p><p>Being the troopers they are, Meagan and Nathan stepped into tag team parenting. One would sleep and the other would handle the children. "Tag, you're it!" took on a whole new meaning at the Smith house. Here's a close up of the fort they built in the living room while the family watched church on the big screen yesterday.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRAOkpHhdPDMJTmRNtJ5wqJtAlpWkCb37LRyPQAQYVPuNwuF2dk4ddY4VQ5BIVglJOIqp16s_-z-Mjw08z0cRU3YCL_hww0tnES9F5cGo3a6S0Fc7YnYDKN1rWofas_Zx_CDUaLsRaBZziQ9BCD7_Hs_-O0I0cvl9lH2hB0QFDx62YiSNgNUyE4KWo4Q" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1532" data-original-width="2715" height="113" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhRAOkpHhdPDMJTmRNtJ5wqJtAlpWkCb37LRyPQAQYVPuNwuF2dk4ddY4VQ5BIVglJOIqp16s_-z-Mjw08z0cRU3YCL_hww0tnES9F5cGo3a6S0Fc7YnYDKN1rWofas_Zx_CDUaLsRaBZziQ9BCD7_Hs_-O0I0cvl9lH2hB0QFDx62YiSNgNUyE4KWo4Q=w200-h113" width="200" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>Needless to say, these days of illness have seemed long and stressful and difficult. But the good news is, God has been with us for each of them. He provided knowledgeable doctors to care for Frank, my dad and stepmom. He provided the medications everyone needed and the courage to keep pressing forward. (We're still waiting for one more report for Frank so we would appreciate your prayers for that.)</p><p>Here's my closing thought. If your days have been long lately, I encourage you to look to scripture for the help and courage you need. Psalm 124:2 has been a favorite for me through the years. <i>"What if the Lord had not been on our side..." </i>NLT I mean, really! What if we were trying to walk through short months of long days without the help HE provides?</p><p>Whew! I can't even imagine. I am so very grateful to know that He keeps the promise given to Joshua in Deuteronomy 31:6-8 <i>"The Lord goes before you. He will never leave you or forsake you..." - </i>especially during long, hard days. </p><p>Be encouraged, dear friend. Blessings as we all "March into Spring." :-)</p><p><br /></p><p><i>Do you have a prayer need? Or perhaps a story of encouragement you'd like to share? Leave it in the comment section here. We would all be happy to share with whatever your days have been looking like.</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><br /></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-13271951934694672122022-01-31T21:20:00.004-05:002022-02-01T06:47:01.001-05:00This Guy!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjyyR2fX8bz8ScDO6KxUznc_C_gxP5lkLUddhRU77dd5fVoWnCP8Tb9twb9rPaUU6KG9l1fjlnvYH8fBuD0jmnGW2KtmdObO18uiVwx4emxdlAPGhj68QvUBbt1tD5VA7RKycduSg5Roz3nTTBYNIC5qpn5OtfoyV78j3OdpwmmL7nnR4Oh3vLTHrpe0A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2968" data-original-width="1927" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjyyR2fX8bz8ScDO6KxUznc_C_gxP5lkLUddhRU77dd5fVoWnCP8Tb9twb9rPaUU6KG9l1fjlnvYH8fBuD0jmnGW2KtmdObO18uiVwx4emxdlAPGhj68QvUBbt1tD5VA7RKycduSg5Roz3nTTBYNIC5qpn5OtfoyV78j3OdpwmmL7nnR4Oh3vLTHrpe0A=w130-h200" width="130" /></a></div><br /><br /></div>My wonderful husband turned 65 just this month. Happy Birthday, Sweetheart! (He's rockin' that bowtie, isn't he?)<p></p><p>We celebrated him the Sunday before his birthday because we already had a church dinner on the calendar. Party, anyone? We multitask every chance we get.</p><p>Then our family celebration took place at our house last night. His favorite meal was on docket - chicken and dumplings finished off with peach cobbler for dessert. This is a picture of the beautiful table Kristin created for us. It's not easy to create such loveliness that will accommodate little hands, too. Somehow, she and her sisters always do.</p><p>The tables have black tablecloths to represent Frank's classy side. The table runner is of camouflage because he has battled faithfully for our family as spiritual head. The silver candle holders speak of his wisdom. And words describing him are scattered all around. Words like: faithful, kind, strong, fun and so on. This family loves their Papa! </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUWEkg9roM-qQDu1Sgyi6nPwTRXgxxraO0P6hobVvrglOcePOAffPB4_EX8qsO5Hmt_f3dDXit_1bXqlsxpJY9omZodWjN9SZBp25C7rgQs7pOI9Z-c-tRolXGllyhwk-IxxRM2Hx7zIfe63e7FPEM58T7SvMm8HLQoj53UgZDOMpWc6m9JOVGgu7_7A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUWEkg9roM-qQDu1Sgyi6nPwTRXgxxraO0P6hobVvrglOcePOAffPB4_EX8qsO5Hmt_f3dDXit_1bXqlsxpJY9omZodWjN9SZBp25C7rgQs7pOI9Z-c-tRolXGllyhwk-IxxRM2Hx7zIfe63e7FPEM58T7SvMm8HLQoj53UgZDOMpWc6m9JOVGgu7_7A=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><br />When our crew all get together it is a loud, loving, laughter-filled evening. Our new neighbors are getting used to us, slowly but surely. It's unusually cold right now in central FL so the grandchildren asked for a fire and smores to close out the party. Of course, we had a lovely bonfire and smores as per their request. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYRhf0c7sUEOZP-DzM6uay5qEwr_x2hArt7QE6K2gSlbHkzGo2FGtXdZ8-XLq5VvR_x5TDjJ32C0Ro4yODu3RZU8vuDQ_OAsm8-6u8Vf48nJIZby3lA5DsI2FKnzhC1SkBzdoDUsQ96Vch3GgjMclB6xv-uXnFWsiqUwdebRD9xZhl4o76LXpbHw9nsg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYRhf0c7sUEOZP-DzM6uay5qEwr_x2hArt7QE6K2gSlbHkzGo2FGtXdZ8-XLq5VvR_x5TDjJ32C0Ro4yODu3RZU8vuDQ_OAsm8-6u8Vf48nJIZby3lA5DsI2FKnzhC1SkBzdoDUsQ96Vch3GgjMclB6xv-uXnFWsiqUwdebRD9xZhl4o76LXpbHw9nsg=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><br />The little guys had a great time running and playing in our backyard while parents sat around the fire talking and teasing with one another. After having prepared all the food, my only job was to sit and take in all the joy. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyisqW3QrXqDCyEgmA1dcZxjAO6Nv98sroj9v6CcRpAm4KhvP24v_MzOtYuCanUaTEOvuAe3S9p-hkJwDexqb7UPewOxU0WIabwuzwX0JH8CDtHduC3O09iHJ-YBrPSU2GyPO7pqPchT4tkEsgtbuaR5yOWb08EMkyMwdonvoj3Smstg_RtDQBvoW2mg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhyisqW3QrXqDCyEgmA1dcZxjAO6Nv98sroj9v6CcRpAm4KhvP24v_MzOtYuCanUaTEOvuAe3S9p-hkJwDexqb7UPewOxU0WIabwuzwX0JH8CDtHduC3O09iHJ-YBrPSU2GyPO7pqPchT4tkEsgtbuaR5yOWb08EMkyMwdonvoj3Smstg_RtDQBvoW2mg=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9WlEdBJWH1PgyfLBqTppGy7Vi-apjrEvlrZkBNI9EVjDLIXQazg5C8W2WyMj6OSh-6vG_KIKdixA6rwOv8zpQkXZ74mE-Eo0moDylE6fu-Rhf3BErhuGjtGgpQCXfonexTiVgsDCscBN00JReOH1roAHj9hxyZbOk9IpzgpMl3w1DDjv1sMlfbfI8FQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh9WlEdBJWH1PgyfLBqTppGy7Vi-apjrEvlrZkBNI9EVjDLIXQazg5C8W2WyMj6OSh-6vG_KIKdixA6rwOv8zpQkXZ74mE-Eo0moDylE6fu-Rhf3BErhuGjtGgpQCXfonexTiVgsDCscBN00JReOH1roAHj9hxyZbOk9IpzgpMl3w1DDjv1sMlfbfI8FQ=w150-h200" width="150" /></a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">I love the art piece a friend created for me several Christmases ago. It says: </span><i style="text-align: left;">"Noni and Papa's house. Where cousins go to become best friends." </i><span style="text-align: left;">This picture (which the boys </span><i style="text-align: left;">asked </i><span style="text-align: left;">me to take) seems to prove that adage. Are these not the cutest cousins you ever saw?</span></div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEihUgepPVZQXKdEP4embGbvapCtU3IkC9lWFxFO6AkJfNIovmJxstQzSHYK-LkySPoXBfHxzVxaZOwXkDq6aHLIdklmtbXnnGjZ3NuL3yl-swDxApciATN1mdP2ZbS-k9HKqPWtmGPvx_dNN4nwfo8dREWLbMJzbg_S7QA3oH9-RZBU8dh-xtyVqGKBPw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEihUgepPVZQXKdEP4embGbvapCtU3IkC9lWFxFO6AkJfNIovmJxstQzSHYK-LkySPoXBfHxzVxaZOwXkDq6aHLIdklmtbXnnGjZ3NuL3yl-swDxApciATN1mdP2ZbS-k9HKqPWtmGPvx_dNN4nwfo8dREWLbMJzbg_S7QA3oH9-RZBU8dh-xtyVqGKBPw=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><br />My gift to Frank this year (in addition to new walking shoes) was a compilation video which Cody helped put together. I reached out to many of the younger ministers/couples we've had opportunity to work with since arriving here in FL. Each of the ones I contacted, graciously responded and their messages to Frank were incredibly touching. I think he was encouraged. <p></p><p>This is the scripture I used to describe Frank earlier this year, <i>"Have you seen a man diligent in his work? He will stand before kings...." (Prov. 22:29 NLT)</i></p><p>And here's one more scripture that fits him perfectly, <i>"God made my life complete when I placed all the pieces before him....God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes." (Psalm 18:20, 24 Message)</i></p><p>As my Grandma Miller often said, He's a Keeper! </p><p><br /></p><p><i>How about you? Are birthday celebrations big in your family? We'd love to hear about your traditions in the comment box. </i></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-48824692124130944192022-01-24T12:22:00.000-05:002022-01-24T12:22:05.264-05:00FL Snow Days<p>I find it hard to believe we are in the FOURTH week of January already! Really?!</p><p>How ever did this happen? And trust me, my shock is not because I've been sleeping like Rumplestiltskin. It's more like I've been running wide open and haven't had time to register the dates of the days as I've slashed them off my calendar. Oh, well.</p><p>You will cheer with me over a choice I made this past Saturday. I woke up tired and sluggish so by 10 AM, I knew productivity was not in the cards for my day. While scrolling through some of your pictures on facebook, I decided to give myself a snow day and suddenly felt much better. </p><p>Listen, we lived in NC for 25 years. I know all about the wonderful mental health break opportunities hidden under the title Snow Day. We loved those. You know, a little surprise day off since it wasn't smart to be out and about on the slick roads but you still felt well enough to get a few things done and watch an entire movie, just because? Snow Days . . . those were just the best.</p><p>The only equivalent we have here in FL would be hurricane days (monster storms) that are downgraded to tropical depression days (serious rain event.) And those come with a whole lot of tension because you aren't sure if your roof will blow off or if you'll be without air conditioning for days and days in the middle of summer. Not really the same at all.</p><p>Temperatures did drop to unusually low points last night. This was the beauty that greeted us this morning.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBpicT5wDX7WyhLAAlzyzm3LjR873FxdYHlRMnjw20D1yLo9ERxx4eJyXfOC1mruHx6msmIJX_nfe5u9vDA5b6y3XE42hi3gTA8aavIxHozzm0HPkI9HXf058XOIbJMiASjPqbGKws1z72/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBpicT5wDX7WyhLAAlzyzm3LjR873FxdYHlRMnjw20D1yLo9ERxx4eJyXfOC1mruHx6msmIJX_nfe5u9vDA5b6y3XE42hi3gTA8aavIxHozzm0HPkI9HXf058XOIbJMiASjPqbGKws1z72/w200-h150/IMG_5505.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>And here is one more through my husband's artistic lens:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2hRroiO-QyTYLloA0hSogda-7kXRxDDfRaV1gMj4boBzVtjgPlhiR9hDFpk6rTj33GBTNa9MNIjjF6YTj5tVDDsT8GqGh7BR16aum81t2eC9Rh_8pzVuvdoRFC-NiE1O1xVLKHPL0hJvF/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2hRroiO-QyTYLloA0hSogda-7kXRxDDfRaV1gMj4boBzVtjgPlhiR9hDFpk6rTj33GBTNa9MNIjjF6YTj5tVDDsT8GqGh7BR16aum81t2eC9Rh_8pzVuvdoRFC-NiE1O1xVLKHPL0hJvF/w200-h150/IMG_5504.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />No, that isn't snow in central FL but it is frost and we enjoyed it immensely. Seeing our breath is another novelty in these parts. The kids especially love it.<p></p><p>Speaking of kids. We're trying to be more purposeful in spending time with our grands, especially the older five. Over Christmas, we realized that we most often are around them in large groups because we don't want anyone to feel left out. </p><p>So beginning this semester, I'm back to picking them up after school. Only this time, it's just one child who then spends a few hours with Noni and Papa doing nothing special. The kids got very excited about the idea and so far it seems to be going well.</p><p>Today is Noah's day since we went by age. </p><p>The afternoon Spencer came over, he and I ran errands. This is him sitting in a gaming chair at Sam's Club. Apparently, these chairs are a dream item on every guys' list. Most of his time was spent playing with a football in our huge backyard while I cheered for his amazing throws. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglrqbuPMvqlWH9ai4QS8w8eSKapbfBseDAdCN1js_pxStM1NmkUJbj5UU4PpE6-ssLygW2r-sFyZGNW1yHfY0v-SYtp9fjAxU01YpdCa3vmvf0QTRo-fKLWrOfTFzOfmibieO1LmcIb6I9/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglrqbuPMvqlWH9ai4QS8w8eSKapbfBseDAdCN1js_pxStM1NmkUJbj5UU4PpE6-ssLygW2r-sFyZGNW1yHfY0v-SYtp9fjAxU01YpdCa3vmvf0QTRo-fKLWrOfTFzOfmibieO1LmcIb6I9/w150-h200/IMG_5407.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />Then on Abby's day, I taught her to make a sour cream pound cake the same way her great grandma taught me. My mom would have been proud of the final outcome.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzIGdTisqlJ7vGusk4KIyxk7j8MziavwIuvDeEpNctYYS9PNhck1b2NuBaSOfIFgTrDjq4u8kTfYlqnXszhQLgu9QxKgBCYqc8SQg2uBLKAs5pSZxupiTvDjxWQRJefHE7Vc1L5gcq7vxN/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzIGdTisqlJ7vGusk4KIyxk7j8MziavwIuvDeEpNctYYS9PNhck1b2NuBaSOfIFgTrDjq4u8kTfYlqnXszhQLgu9QxKgBCYqc8SQg2uBLKAs5pSZxupiTvDjxWQRJefHE7Vc1L5gcq7vxN/w150-h200/IMG_5478.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>Next on the agenda was a couple of rounds with Papa playing Chutes and Ladders.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEFtmAEBZCaMSo7o5UhoQwkCehxjKujk9g2U0aVtnzApqKlzQrY5nY-96HF8qRiew0_e480FqDV7WlMjhrg2kMQLafGwaDtg1_PGGuQ1VncBZO9AKHc6NzGVCZTutl5eZhkDRVjU-q4xzt/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2861" data-original-width="2000" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEFtmAEBZCaMSo7o5UhoQwkCehxjKujk9g2U0aVtnzApqKlzQrY5nY-96HF8qRiew0_e480FqDV7WlMjhrg2kMQLafGwaDtg1_PGGuQ1VncBZO9AKHc6NzGVCZTutl5eZhkDRVjU-q4xzt/w140-h200/IMG_5474.jpg" width="140" /></a></div><br />Bottom line is this, these visits are more about time together than about gifts or entertainment. We made that clear from the beginning and they hopped right on board. Besides, when you are part of a family with nine grandbabies, one on one time is a rare commodity in itself. Papa and I are loving it, too.<p></p><p>We began our year just as we always have with a time of dedicated fasting and prayer. The sweetness of my "one on one" time with Jesus was enhanced because of this new experience with the grands. I gained a fresh appreciation for what it's like to talk quietly and to listen intently. </p><p>Don't get me wrong, we love the loud and rambunctious times when we're all together. But there's also something special about walking slowly, holding hands and hearing entire thought processes with a child.</p><p>That's how it is with our Heavenly Father. He loves when we all come together with our church families worshipping, singing, celebrating but He also responds to alone time with us. Listening to our heartaches and fears, our joys and dreams then responding in ways that make the journey better.</p><p>Have you been carving out time for that this year? If not, let me encourage you to start. It will be the best "mental health exercise" you've ever tried. </p><p><br /></p><p><i>How about you? Do you get to enjoy snow days as an adult? What are some memories you have of time spent with your grandparents? We'd love to hear about your experiences in the comment box below. . .</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><br /></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-64481836604954820652021-12-31T20:49:00.002-05:002021-12-31T20:49:35.242-05:00New Year Joys!<p>Trusting your Christmas was more blessed than you could have imagined. And I'm watching with you for a New Year filled with JOY!</p><p>There have been so many adjustments for us all during 2021. I don't want to elaborate on this. We all know what our own adjustments have been and to be honest, many of us are limping into 2022. </p><p>With that in mind, I think it best to simply offer some encouragement and happy thoughts for my final post of the year. </p><p>I'll start with one of my favorite pictures from our Christmas Day. Many of you remember that Kristin, Cody and Parker are still living with us until their house is ready. That's why Papa had the opportunity to put together a basketball goal with the three year old engineer. So Precious!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBmiI_LvdpM9ovMB2yh1NKT_WiEnKBR4A5AHUqK4DyfpZZTjAwDLVhhgUiDrYXgOkH3HLwuvtZRTlU9nTuP9-dU5cwtH9AG6g8wTL5zP5idPYguVjaq-88ZKE5HWQvsgWLdHKfW12rRjxD/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBmiI_LvdpM9ovMB2yh1NKT_WiEnKBR4A5AHUqK4DyfpZZTjAwDLVhhgUiDrYXgOkH3HLwuvtZRTlU9nTuP9-dU5cwtH9AG6g8wTL5zP5idPYguVjaq-88ZKE5HWQvsgWLdHKfW12rRjxD/w150-h200/IMG_5337.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />This assembly project was a little less joyful. But you gotta take the good with the bad and eventually, Papa had a fully functioning racetrack built.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzg619BfrYJXphfGX0yzZuSFEG69Ehk7LT2s2ML8CmVqhoH3n00NYzlTPSCB8Hq88EcpluBJX3cdUuJ8IY1PHvgveI-rujtmRJ_TdZnCKjNp6zmChjKi9dg1MYKOjiHtLYhMfG5v-_jcL7/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzg619BfrYJXphfGX0yzZuSFEG69Ehk7LT2s2ML8CmVqhoH3n00NYzlTPSCB8Hq88EcpluBJX3cdUuJ8IY1PHvgveI-rujtmRJ_TdZnCKjNp6zmChjKi9dg1MYKOjiHtLYhMfG5v-_jcL7/w150-h200/IMG_5349.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />After our Christmas Eve service and the final Sunday service of the year, Frank and I took a couple of days to celebrate our 42nd anniversary. We've been blessed by friends to stay at their little place on the coast. My favorite part of visiting their getaway spot is a screened porch overlooking a canal. It's the best spot for resting and recovering.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgugKHFOxCJtanuNqKn5WVc2TmZA_liQ51K9wagEKaIgcEc3-d0UPaU_txl9YDQNu5E-jLEIzdnxI5_J02LReuzdYwHqg3yXwUDZ1xxJaxJCu9iQdsTvVfOxbC8gaTQqqI2FEX46SMr2kJD/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2320" data-original-width="3088" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgugKHFOxCJtanuNqKn5WVc2TmZA_liQ51K9wagEKaIgcEc3-d0UPaU_txl9YDQNu5E-jLEIzdnxI5_J02LReuzdYwHqg3yXwUDZ1xxJaxJCu9iQdsTvVfOxbC8gaTQqqI2FEX46SMr2kJD/w200-h150/IMG_5355.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />We went to dinner at a fun Greek restaurant in the nearby town of Tarpon Springs. It was such fun sitting beside an open window and watching people walk along. The sidewalk was busy well after 8PM. <p></p><p>A young lady who was walking by noticed Frank and I trying to snap a selfie that would include the interior of the restaurant. She stepped up and said, "Would you like for me to take it for you?" </p><p>"Well, umm sure." I answered a bit hesitantly because if she had decided to take off with Frank's phone, there would be nothing we could do. Fortunately, our faith in human kindness paid off with this fun shot.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzhZHudF-8ZWlQvhSy3RBlV4lkJYc9UbuT6UyI_Bn3AZu2rIsr-1KcmblP1uieRqlVnnx8nUSdqLQvvL81GQ6nAHd3myNi4gOt2OGRwwndxV8ddsEFuYGcNLdGsDRsUQJNx9132Otzs46A/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzhZHudF-8ZWlQvhSy3RBlV4lkJYc9UbuT6UyI_Bn3AZu2rIsr-1KcmblP1uieRqlVnnx8nUSdqLQvvL81GQ6nAHd3myNi4gOt2OGRwwndxV8ddsEFuYGcNLdGsDRsUQJNx9132Otzs46A/w150-h200/IMG_4325.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br />Our meal was a delicious reminder of the time we spent in Greece as newlyweds. No, we didn't honeymoon there. We had the honor of doing a short term missions work about six months after our we were married. </p><p>The missionary I worked with the summer before invited us to come as a couple and do vacation Bible school for children. It actually became an adventure filled with unexpected twists and turns but we navigated it well and actually bonded even more as a ministry team. Did I hear someone whisper "Baptism by Fire"?</p><p>Frank snapped this picture as we shared a dessert and coffee. (Decafe for me, of course.)</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJL4hyuSkbcrwJtXgmxAeLHgQCGE73pmTFYlid1o5Bx3DGGh7x0Sjlsd92fcYnoPMjbveCvtTZ9UrjUs-07VY86PWvvuhExBuGaZZ-CSKSknOicl1tPTXKUkn5U4n34GJoIjug8PqMHAMG/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJL4hyuSkbcrwJtXgmxAeLHgQCGE73pmTFYlid1o5Bx3DGGh7x0Sjlsd92fcYnoPMjbveCvtTZ9UrjUs-07VY86PWvvuhExBuGaZZ-CSKSknOicl1tPTXKUkn5U4n34GJoIjug8PqMHAMG/w150-h200/IMG_4328.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />Let me close this post with a scripture I've had on my refrigerator for several months: <i>"I pray that God the source of Hope will fill you completely with Joy and Peace because you trust in Him. Then you will overflow with confident Hope through the Power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13 esv</i><p></p><p>May HOPE be yours as we move forward into the new year. There will certainly be some disappointments in 2022 but if we watch, there will also be JOY. And most of us know from experience that choosing to focus on Joy is the best way to travel. </p><p>God Bless Your New Year, Dear Friends! </p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-46942623078534335332021-12-20T11:08:00.005-05:002021-12-20T11:12:38.551-05:00Eat the Train<p>It's Christmas and I think you should Eat the Train. Eat all of it, Quickly!</p><p>No, I haven't lost my senses. In fact, this may be one of my more enlightening posts this year. </p><p><i>For regular readers, I do apologize for the long time of silence. I've just been walking through a tough place and writing always opens the door to my more vulnerable self. That kind of ugly was better shared over coffee with a trusted friend. But I'm back and I thank you for your patience.</i></p><p>So, why am I urging you to consume some mode of transportation - and a rather large one at that?! Perhaps this photo will help.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TLMwhvjE_OCBvWOEnv0tqgb1glf8N8LcT6QQ0hEI6jtBivvowGp8eAG8SeWES9gfbI1S_96Oa_rm2lCnBApOG0_p5xWyklIijgdJUi0ayEl5J3d4UIDeUnWtHAPkreQ-T1uzpnK3zMzV/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3255" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TLMwhvjE_OCBvWOEnv0tqgb1glf8N8LcT6QQ0hEI6jtBivvowGp8eAG8SeWES9gfbI1S_96Oa_rm2lCnBApOG0_p5xWyklIijgdJUi0ayEl5J3d4UIDeUnWtHAPkreQ-T1uzpnK3zMzV/w186-h200/IMG_5312.jpg" width="186" /></a></div><br />This is the artwork representing an afternoon of frazzled fun. Six grandchildren came straight to Noni and Papa's house after a morning of celebrating and parties and sugar and excitement as school dismissed for Christmas break. (Probably should have thought more carefully about that timing.)<p></p><p>We ate pizza for lunch then commenced making a gingerbread castle (girls) and a train (boys). Let me tell you, those small creations in the picture in no way represent the mammoth task of encouraging six children to make room for one another, stop eating the materials, keep working as a team, and stop bossing one another. </p><p>Many of you remember that we are a family of first borns. With the exception of Joy and Meagan, every other adult is a first born and there are even a couple of only children in that mix. It seems the firstborn traits of leadership have been passed on to the grandchildren, too. Talk about headstrong - we've got that covered.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJleALxaZTAlrUwA8ML64OGh0kro6twlXTJqC__xOGp6xsSW72HpW7bBE-jv2if2DZtQ9Zobfldpk2bseXIuOBOwTWaidQrBmGy7j1RTMF_H-oenA0RD6LIhxkNEgbV3IQM3BAf8EcXlVk/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJleALxaZTAlrUwA8ML64OGh0kro6twlXTJqC__xOGp6xsSW72HpW7bBE-jv2if2DZtQ9Zobfldpk2bseXIuOBOwTWaidQrBmGy7j1RTMF_H-oenA0RD6LIhxkNEgbV3IQM3BAf8EcXlVk/w150-h200/IMG_5220.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />I don't have any pictures of the gingerbread decorating process because . . . well, refer back to the earlier paragraph. But I did capture this moment as Papa helped Ava glue pom poms to her Christmas ornament. <p></p><p>A couple of years ago, I bought a two foot tree for the babies. Last year we bought ornaments with each of their names. This year, I couldn't find the ornaments anywhere! How frustrating. So, we made new ones. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSKk644zzvH-9CF3W2jk5-XdmwChoHyoJlknHGw7ptZ8eCcrPQxvz3Tw1yG2kELD1HdT35O0nZmmuEcbFpi4O1RTF4mbwX70-x9DN3prhZxATy1C7Mvhcvdq-bi2pvQpPewql1_t0mK2_5/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSKk644zzvH-9CF3W2jk5-XdmwChoHyoJlknHGw7ptZ8eCcrPQxvz3Tw1yG2kELD1HdT35O0nZmmuEcbFpi4O1RTF4mbwX70-x9DN3prhZxATy1C7Mvhcvdq-bi2pvQpPewql1_t0mK2_5/w150-h200/IMG_5229.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />Here is our Christmas treasure gathered around the tree they decorated. No, they aren't all looking in the same direction and you have to look closely to see a couple of the faces but they're all represented.<p></p><p>"Okay Sheri," I can almost hear someone in MN saying. "You pulled us into this post with the title urging us to eat a train. What's that about?"</p><p>I'm glad you asked.</p><p>Our entire family came back on Saturday morning to celebrate our Christmas. Yes, a week early but adult children have other family to visit and crazy work schedules. So, we determined a long time ago that holidays can be any date we designate. </p><p>Almost as soon as the older children arrived, they started asking, "Noni, can we eat the train?" My answer? "No, let's wait until your parents see what an awesome job you did."</p><p>Several more times through the day one or more of them would come up to me and say, "Now? Noni, can we eat the train now? Mom and Dad already saw it." Each time I would say, "No, let's wait." My answer was disappointing to them but they waited patiently.</p><p>As I straightened the kitchen again this morning, I had to move the castle and train around several times. Suddenly, I stopped and asked myself out loud, "Sheri, what were you waiting for?! Why didn't you break that train apart and let them eat it?"</p><p>To be honest, friends, I didn't want the evidence of all our hard work to be gone in a flash. Selfish but true.</p><p>And now, we won't all be together again until after Christmas. Selfishness on my part caused us to miss a fun moment (gingerbread is meant to the eaten) and created an added burden (where to store them) all in one fell swoop. Who knew a candy train and castle could serve as such powerful spotlights of revelatory self-examination?</p><p>Consequently, I'm calling out to you today - Eat the Train! Don't waste energy on choices that feed selfishness this week of Christmas. We can afford to be generous with far more than gifts. We can be generous with our attitudes, our actions, our choices. After all, look how generous God was with us. He sent His only son to make a way for us to be together. </p><p>I'll leave you with a couple of final pictures from our church Christmas party. We called it PJ's and Pancakes. It was a great evening where everyone wore Christmas pajamas and we served breakfast as the meal. Games, prizes, singing of carols, lots of fun and lots of laughter. (Our grands had pajamas that looked a bit rough so we opened their traditional gift of pjs early. If you click on the picture, you'll see it more clearly.)</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0FPxAZ0rBQ67UvSK6tEr_pGfwPeZy6uN8ONUc-JuxfCUHM-kg-l0PEhTMJB5sphbvW_Tbd-KIkkh3RfYFExR79ND4_BIkY2QiOXH-9_rAJnMbl6sRZKV_xXQnP7cijvhW_BLkg7hTm8oC/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="646" data-original-width="601" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0FPxAZ0rBQ67UvSK6tEr_pGfwPeZy6uN8ONUc-JuxfCUHM-kg-l0PEhTMJB5sphbvW_Tbd-KIkkh3RfYFExR79ND4_BIkY2QiOXH-9_rAJnMbl6sRZKV_xXQnP7cijvhW_BLkg7hTm8oC/w186-h200/IMG_5313.jpg" width="186" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKJXLMqbu-DWlaO2KWvxKkG1abxjQ3USce3coPgdJcaR54axx9lZ86xENzbteiKEzueaCO-COEiBrY5-muoucE6a8I8MyjVkXmHaouattkLZOT0h4Nv9LS-fJkg4ESfdO6bgUctnyCLYX/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="506" data-original-width="715" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKJXLMqbu-DWlaO2KWvxKkG1abxjQ3USce3coPgdJcaR54axx9lZ86xENzbteiKEzueaCO-COEiBrY5-muoucE6a8I8MyjVkXmHaouattkLZOT0h4Nv9LS-fJkg4ESfdO6bgUctnyCLYX/w200-h141/IMG_5314.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><p></p><p>I'll try to post again for Christmas Day but for now, here's my challenge for us all. </p><p>Don't fret the small stuff, Friends. Don't overspend and over extend yourself physically. Do the simple things that will make this a memorable time for the special ones in your life. Prepare a favorite dish. Write a card. Call a friend. Offer a smile or a prayer. </p><p>Making a memory may also be as simple as . . . eating the train. </p><p><br /></p><p><i>What choices have you made this year or in years past creating precious memories? We'd love to hear about them in the comment section. Who knows? You may even help others to create a new tradition in their family...</i></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-44779710530146649102021-11-15T17:14:00.065-05:002021-12-19T08:46:24.052-05:00Heart WearyAre you enjoying the magnificent color changes and brisk temperatures of fall? I hope so. <div><br /></div><div>For us here in central FL, our color changes happen more subtly and require multiple visits to Hobby Lobby. New sofa pillows, putting out the fall comforter again on our bed and adding pumpkin spice creamer to our refrigerator. You make it happen the best way you can, right? </div><div><br /></div><div>We have enjoyed a few cooler days and I even turned on the fireplace for a while. Then the air conditioning kicked back on and I knew the fireplace had to go for a while longer. </div><div><br /></div><div>Change has also come for us in a couple of other forms.
Kristin and Cody (our oldest daughter/husband) were shocked by how quickly their starter home sold last month. With no other home in sight, they moved their little family of three in with Mom and Dad until one can be secured. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's rather funny because Cody is our only son-in-law who had not lived with us in order to save for a home. Now all three "brothers" will be able to make jokes at our expense about the trials of living with Mom and Dad. </div><div><br /></div><div>The second change was that Frank has gone back to school. This is a huge yippee, hurray and even a hallelujah!! He has wanted to get his master's degree ever since his first attempt in 1988. </div><div><br /></div><div>This summer we had lunch with friends who teach at one of our premier theological seminaries. They talked about the struggles of taking the seminary to an online format due to covid last year. </div><div><br /></div><div>I casually asked, "Is anyone able to attend now that it's all online?"
"Absolutely!" said our friend. They have students from all over the world. While the seminary is based in the Philippines, many of the professors also had to return to their home countries during the pandemic. Long story short - we saw a window of opportunity and wasted no time enrolling. </div><div><br /></div><div>However, that was just the beginning. We still lead an amazing team of people who work just as hard as we do and keep us on our toes. We still pastor a wonderful congregation of kind people. (They have always been incredibly thoughtful about making sure we have a life outside just pastoring and we love them all the more for that.) But some things can only be done by the lead pastor. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then you add in the fact that there is a twelve hour time difference between FL and the Philippines. This means Frank is usually<i> beginning</i> class just about the time we would normally be going to bed. Some are even later, like chapel that begins at 11:30 PM. We were incredibly relieved to learn he could watch that weekly service on the following day and write a short report. Whew! </div><div><br /></div><div>Then, there came the inevitable term paper. Fortunately, every beginning master's student is required to take a research class that teaches the requirements for papers submitted to their professors. That meant Frank only had to generate one term paper which will be graded first by the research professor then by the New Testament professor. </div><div><br /></div><div>Although Frank has spent the last forty years preparing literally thousands of sermons and Bible studies, none of these had to be formatted in the standard Turabian style. Footnotes, citings and journal entries were not part of our everyday vernacular. . . until now. </div><div><br /></div><div>This initial research paper has been a BEAR!!
And finally, just this very day, with only a few hours to spare . . . we Sent The PAPER! May the name of the Lord be Praised. I made his favorite dinner (chicken and dumplings) so we can celebrate. </div><div><br /></div><div>So what does all this celebrating have to do with the title of today's post? "Heart Weary." </div><div><br /></div><div>That's a phrase my mom used to say when she was growing extra tired in any season of life. I can almost see her brushing back the dark curls from around her face and lifting those big brown eyes that seemed a bit misty as she explained to me, "I don't know what's going on, Baby. I'm just heart weary right now." </div><div><br /></div><div>All my life, Mom laughed more than she cried and to see her in a low moment emotionally was somewhat unsettling. But as I grew older, I came to realize Mom needed a bigger hug, some extra prayer and sometimes a listening ear. Things would eventually turn around and she would be smiling again. </div><div><br /></div><div>Today, I sat a long time in my prayer chair and looked out at the bright sunshine. My heart was weary. I sighed deeply and reached for my devotional Bible. Just like Mama, I knew it was time to come close to the Rock that is my Secure Foundation. </div><div><br /></div><div>The first scripture my eyes fell on had been underlined before. <i>"So take a new grip with your tired hands and strengthen your weak knees."</i> Hebrews 12:12 NLT (Can't make it up, Friends!) </div><div><br /></div><div>My own brown eyes grew misty in the same way Mama's used to, only my tears spilled over. I read the verse out loud and a little more slowly drinking in the intimacy of His message to me. "Sheri, take a new grip with your tired hands. I'm right here to help." (Why, yes. I am crying again as I share this moment with you.) </div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe you find yourself in a "Heart Weary" spot right now, Dear Reader. Don't despair. Sit for a moment with the One who loves you most. He'll help you take a new grip on life even though your hands are tired. I've seen it work for decades now. He is Near to those who are Heart Weary. </div><div><br /></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>If you ever need prayer, please don't hesitate to send a message. If you've seen God be faithful when life was difficult. We'd also love for you to share your own words of encouragement in the comment section below.</i></div>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-73562985452788014592021-10-26T10:23:00.008-04:002021-10-26T12:47:34.596-04:00Five Dollar Faith<p><i>This past weekend, was our first statewide event for women in two years. Let me tell you, when more than twelve hundred women gather for a time of preaching, prayer and FUN it's pretty amazing!</i></p><p><i>Our state director, Deanna Shrodes (along with her assistant, Judi Cotignola) does such a stellar job leading this ministry. I had enough work just getting our fourteen ladies organized and set up. I can't even imagine the work that Deanna and her team did in order to make the event seamless for us. WHEW!</i></p><p><i>About three weeks ago, Deanna asked if I would be responsible to receive the offering on Friday night. Those offerings are a key part of funding all the other work they do through the year. So, I prayed about what to say. Almost immediately I knew this story from our early days of ministry was the thing to share. </i></p><p><i>God used this moment to mark us with the importance of always participating in what He is doing. We have a part to play in every miracle. So, here you go. Hope it builds your faith as it has continued to build ours all these years.</i></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjWnsZgs5J5Zcmu5kh9wZBs4bqUZcDfzCFq0mYh24437qGvudoE2Qb8adT3TWktojL9AUAwP7OzTqkFAgGj5InWUZ6EDizLtdHV1wvWHMsg9Mzn1Y307FtXtVeRjvaldAgzGeellz9VlsJ/s750/IMG_4967.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="519" data-original-width="750" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjWnsZgs5J5Zcmu5kh9wZBs4bqUZcDfzCFq0mYh24437qGvudoE2Qb8adT3TWktojL9AUAwP7OzTqkFAgGj5InWUZ6EDizLtdHV1wvWHMsg9Mzn1Y307FtXtVeRjvaldAgzGeellz9VlsJ/w200-h138/IMG_4967.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sharing at the THRIVE Conference</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>As young twenty-somethings, the Lord sent us to our first pastoral position. We were given the opportunity to love on thirty settled souls in the mountains of NC. And although the salary was small, we were so happy to be serving that we didn't realize we were rather poor.</p><p>Frank decided to make the first Sunday of February our missions emphasis which meant we would be receiving a cash offering for a special missions endeavor. We were excited until we looked at our own budget and realized we would have No Personal Cash to give. </p><p>We've never asked our congregations to do what we weren't willing to do because you can not lead from behind. So, the young pastor and his wife went to prayer asking God to provide us with cash for this special offering.</p><p>On the Saturday before missions Sunday, I was cleaning house and praying again about our need. Imagine my joy when I opened a particular box and discovered a five dollar bill. Our missions offering! </p><p>Now, this was five dollars I had tucked away in early December for the purpose of adding to Frank's Christmas present. I hid it so well that I promptly forgot about it, until that Saturday morning of discovery. </p><p>(I know, some of you are shaking your heads in disbelief. "How can you hide money then totally forget about it, Sheri?!" But other readers are nodding and saying, "Yep! I've done that very same thing." Whichever camp is yours, I'm just glad you read Embrace the Grace.)</p><p>No one could match the smiles on our faces as we placed our paltry five dollars in the offering basket that Sunday morning. God had heard our cry and answered in what we considered to be a miraculous way and we were ecstatic. What a great story.</p><p>But life is seldom so neat and tidy, right?</p><p>On the following Wednesday, we had another little crisis come up. I reached into our pantry to pull out the potatoes I was using to make potato soup for supper. (My Mama had taught me how to live on a frugal budget and had helped me develop a terrific recipe for potato soup. Tasty and Filling.)</p><p>I was startled to realize this would be the last of the potatoes and the last food in our house as well. Not one can of tuna. Not one package of hamburger. Not even a loaf of bread. Nothing. And we wouldn't be paid again until Sunday.</p><p>Tearfully, I explained my grocery miscalculation to Frank who hugged me and assured me that the Lord had not forgotten us. Everything would be alright. We were tempted to regret having given the entire five dollars on Sunday but we reminded each other what a miracle it was that I had even found it and again thanked the Lord for the privilege He had given us to participate.</p><p>The next morning while getting ready for work, I decided to call my parents and ask them to wire money so we would be able to eat the rest of the week. As the phone was ringing, I felt a clear nudge from the Holy Spirit, "Do not tell them what you need."</p><p>The thought was so distinct that it was almost startling. My dad answered with his customary, "Nnnyello!" And it came to me again, "Don't tell him. Trust Me."</p><p>We talked briefly before Dad asked, "Why did you call, Sweetheart? Are y'all okay?" I took a deep breath trying to remove any quiver from my voice. "Yessir, we're fine. Just wanted to say I love you, Daddy. You and Mama pray for us. Gotta run, bye!"</p><p>Hanging up from the call, I swiped at the stray tears landing on my cheeks. </p><p>My position as a substitute teacher at the local high school was next on the agenda that morning. While driving, I thought maybe there would be a special basket delivery that day. Many in our dear congregation realized how tight our budget was and often dropped by with grocery items or canned goods as their way of helping out.</p><p>When I returned home and searched Frank's face, I knew immediately there had been no such delivery that day. Being the woman of faith that I was at the time, I went into our bedroom, threw myself across the bed and cried myself to sleep. There was no dinner to prepare so sleep seemed appropriate.</p><p>About forty-five minutes later, Frank burst into the room and starting shaking me awake while simultaneously talking about some miracle. "Look, Sheri! It's a miracle. Look what the Lord has done for us!"</p><p>I rubbed my eyes and saw he was waving an envelope. The mailman ran late that Thursday but the letter he delivered arrived right on time. In the letter postmarked New Orleans, Louisiana was a check written for support of Frank and Sheri. </p><p>It hadn't arrived on Wednesday because that was too early. And it didn't arrive on Friday because that would have been too late. Our heavenly Father had it delivered on the very day we needed it most.</p><p>You see, we had a dear friend in New Orleans who had promised to pray for us as we started our adventure as pastors. Mama Terri told us her side of the story when we called to thank her. </p><p>She seldom ever left her home on Monday mornings as that was her time to be quiet and recover from the weekend. But this particular Monday, she felt the Lord urging her. "Get to the post office and mail a check to those kids!" was how she described it to us.</p><p>We all laughed then cried and thanked the Lord together for His attention to detail. What a Faithful God!<p></p><p>Frank and I dashed to the bank so we could cash the check then we enjoyed what was our favorite meal at the time, Kentucky Fried Chicken.</p><p>For decades now, Frank and I have been able to refer back to this moment as encouragement for ourselves as well as others. How thankful we were that we gave all that was in our hands to give. We participated by planting our little five dollar bill in the missions offering. And God responded by bringing a great harvest. </p><p>Oh, I forgot to tell how much Mama Terri felt prompted to send us. Hold onto your hat. The check that arrived in our mailbox on exactly the right day was for five hundred dollars. One hundred times what we gave, by faith. (You can't make these things up, dear reader.) </p><p>So, I ask you: How can you participate in the miracle you need to see take place? What is in your hand/heart to share? Have you sown seed into good soil so you can watch for a harvest?</p><p>Let me encourage you to pray and ask God for the seed you need. He loves to surprise us with answers to honest prayers. What you have to offer may seem insufficient to you, give it anyway. You never know what He will do even with just five dollars of faith.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-24294814123120602382021-10-13T10:57:00.004-04:002021-10-13T10:57:57.294-04:00"Pardners" for Life<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGRfXAVnsuG0aeETAsnBdr0Snc-B6-oM8qOyM4gMHWZlRdV0en0-35WWTyvo2u1RGOdi5ZOHE_IqjYFcCA9_JrdMBQ5U51uGvaYOdQz8eB3Ba-xv0DQLSfBan4jFTByfdlY4R3hi3CPymN/s2048/IMG_4868.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGRfXAVnsuG0aeETAsnBdr0Snc-B6-oM8qOyM4gMHWZlRdV0en0-35WWTyvo2u1RGOdi5ZOHE_IqjYFcCA9_JrdMBQ5U51uGvaYOdQz8eB3Ba-xv0DQLSfBan4jFTByfdlY4R3hi3CPymN/w200-h150/IMG_4868.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>Is this not the most adorable picture ever?! Doesn't it make you want to wave a stetson and yell, "Howdy, Folks!" and "YeeHaw!" for everyone to hear? Care to guess where this cowgirl and her sheriff were? </p><p>I heard someone in Texarkana call out the answer. Yep, we were celebrating our year of Partnering Together for Missions! (Bet the readers in Miami didn't see that coming. LOL)</p><p>The missions directors for our church are simply amazing. Dominic and Molly Buccafuni came to us from Ohio about a year after we became pastors. It quickly became evident that we all had a genuine passion for missions. Home missions. Foreign missions. Trips, Offerings, Missionaries . . . we loved it all!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGUkBpz9FfYG518u7qOY23wXsMChtxBisv_V8ELX7yy4AT8QiLirbZ97cfViAwv5bsN1qcqmRrkrVWCBqRzgr-0e4Z8R_JqR3j_Izbwb7NIqF2zHOsCr8A-5vt1xm9hMeTqQHuUg_C3AS/s2048/IMG_4869.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1327" data-original-width="2048" height="129" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGUkBpz9FfYG518u7qOY23wXsMChtxBisv_V8ELX7yy4AT8QiLirbZ97cfViAwv5bsN1qcqmRrkrVWCBqRzgr-0e4Z8R_JqR3j_Izbwb7NIqF2zHOsCr8A-5vt1xm9hMeTqQHuUg_C3AS/w200-h129/IMG_4869.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>This year, our special guest was Teresa Kemp of Hope Ranch. That's how it came about that our entire church showed up Sunday dressed just like we would for a rodeo at the OK Corral. It was a fun day of celebrating all we've accomplished in 2021 by simply "Pardnerin' Together" to help spread the Good News of God's Love and Life.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRTh2VYuK7Nk0tcMX7ctxh_lDsSnnzDVhx5lc58PZlIJbnr4IUPfKOi_AE3Wy_9xmgjq8OfmoBhFuZ-hVNKyxhwnvBgxmWnEtFZ3qW8gqrWgO0mUW0NMLiMz_BN1odXodsstZKAwfaPpbR/s1755/IMG_4870.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1570" data-original-width="1755" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRTh2VYuK7Nk0tcMX7ctxh_lDsSnnzDVhx5lc58PZlIJbnr4IUPfKOi_AE3Wy_9xmgjq8OfmoBhFuZ-hVNKyxhwnvBgxmWnEtFZ3qW8gqrWgO0mUW0NMLiMz_BN1odXodsstZKAwfaPpbR/w200-h179/IMG_4870.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p>Couldn't close this part of the post without Ava Quinn's smile. Looks like she's ready for a ride in the surrey with the fringe on top! (Any other Oklahoma fans out there? I mean the musical not necessarily the teams.)</p><p>In other news, my "Life Pardner" and I made a quick road trip to pick up our new baby. Yes, you heard that right. We've been empty nesters a long while and decided there's definitely enough love around these here parts for us to share.</p><p>Please welcome our newest family member, Missy Grace:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5Zf-BzM8DjHdZGt5cyifpoo_3yp95ZpBS_yAtOXIebUXNGc-biTXebQk1HXlrIXIKBTC2zJ37R5rYw90pvZdiwNj8BUr9bQyYt2LS67T3pDWFbxArwpcQ2Y76WGU4_kYyjZkvOsy3oVa/s2048/IMG_4827.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5Zf-BzM8DjHdZGt5cyifpoo_3yp95ZpBS_yAtOXIebUXNGc-biTXebQk1HXlrIXIKBTC2zJ37R5rYw90pvZdiwNj8BUr9bQyYt2LS67T3pDWFbxArwpcQ2Y76WGU4_kYyjZkvOsy3oVa/w150-h200/IMG_4827.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br /><p>What a precious face, right? Her full name is from a Hebrew word, Mishayel which means "Who is like our God?" I'll share the story behind our new baby and the selection of her name soon. A friend of mine suggested she should have been named Freckles, instead. But when you read the full explanation, you'll agree she is our Missy.</p><p>These next few pictures will give you an idea of what life has been like for us the past few weeks.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvF8SNVA73xYVDnA_PvO02mOUhJOflq_GMYlCjb5IySuZxBorvQmyWiho8Gw_-qQgLANegEUpXDtL-xI70_B6CA3ZFYwHF8AbU1UOcsx8AIGQyOb53UtsS2ZOsCL_ROJ_6LiBNAoljrlQ6/s750/IMG_4874.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="750" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvF8SNVA73xYVDnA_PvO02mOUhJOflq_GMYlCjb5IySuZxBorvQmyWiho8Gw_-qQgLANegEUpXDtL-xI70_B6CA3ZFYwHF8AbU1UOcsx8AIGQyOb53UtsS2ZOsCL_ROJ_6LiBNAoljrlQ6/w200-h166/IMG_4874.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p>See that beauty standing second from the right? Abby Grace has taken up soccer and she is a natural! When she handles the defense, the coach leaves her to cover the field all by herself. She's also great at passing and has scored a couple of goals already.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiumLqUIET7oH4e_2x6a_CIQsgh3VGVOA8F9hxBHcNWy1rVnEHQrzcqPGIvIJJv73CTC9uLdF4f_zjQsqzjnpLGvJ5Jd5hbpiaY53T7riuTcPLwK-tbmBsj6qVpHmM2ixdpA54ncH0ykyFc/s750/IMG_4875.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="750" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiumLqUIET7oH4e_2x6a_CIQsgh3VGVOA8F9hxBHcNWy1rVnEHQrzcqPGIvIJJv73CTC9uLdF4f_zjQsqzjnpLGvJ5Jd5hbpiaY53T7riuTcPLwK-tbmBsj6qVpHmM2ixdpA54ncH0ykyFc/w200-h191/IMG_4875.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p>Then there are her brothers. Spencer and Zachariah. They are playing baseball and t-ball for the first time. Again, both naturals. Spencer had never played organized baseball but all the years playing catch with his dad have payed off. He's been tapped to pitch several times.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiot4VhYLfUky_kwB0FMdJI9CHQYI5fmWHsUqKIThoOHNQ6V9Z-GnfMHi1nboNykKtE1rvdcyBFBZwsbi1f5sfCKNJ6CRRByU4xtUZOSuLSJIxuqkSw0ioCVh7DS5zqToLUiFAiGTDP4JBg/s2048/IMG_4833.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1526" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiot4VhYLfUky_kwB0FMdJI9CHQYI5fmWHsUqKIThoOHNQ6V9Z-GnfMHi1nboNykKtE1rvdcyBFBZwsbi1f5sfCKNJ6CRRByU4xtUZOSuLSJIxuqkSw0ioCVh7DS5zqToLUiFAiGTDP4JBg/w149-h200/IMG_4833.jpg" width="149" /></a></div><br /><p>Take a look at the knees of this uniform. Can you tell what Zach's favorite part of t-ball might be? Yep, the kid loves to slide. Joy said he can't even walk through the kitchen anymore without sliding into the island. He's also found his voice when cheering for his big brother. He paces up and down the fence yelling, "Come on, Spencer. You got this!"</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3yTbwSACeYB_-OBeK5BfSXrEjv2AdLo5iRdX7mfJjc-iKYnIsHMdYLU5gdnCR7NxEIK7N3CIn_JZ9SfanWVqY1aBKLG2ZCFb4QrqCwcgmGHQyKM1m5EYjhH0Xmp-PYFvogqsVEw_h_hwF/s2048/IMG_4834.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1568" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3yTbwSACeYB_-OBeK5BfSXrEjv2AdLo5iRdX7mfJjc-iKYnIsHMdYLU5gdnCR7NxEIK7N3CIn_JZ9SfanWVqY1aBKLG2ZCFb4QrqCwcgmGHQyKM1m5EYjhH0Xmp-PYFvogqsVEw_h_hwF/w153-h200/IMG_4834.jpg" width="153" /></a></div>Then, with seventeen family members and only twelve months each year, you can do the math and just imagine how many birthdays we celebrate. (Not to mention anniversaries, promotions, regular holidays and so forth.)<div><br /></div><div>Oh, dear!</div><div><br /></div><div>I also have precious pictures from Noah's 8th birthday celebration that took place Saturday. However, I've been trying to get this post online for two days and my window for doing it today is quickly closing. I'll include pictures of the Smith tribe and McGhees next time. </div><div><br /></div><div>Needless to say, my hope for you today is that you have "Pardners" in your circle who also cheer for you and speak Life over your circumstances. If not, find some! "Pardners for Life" are necessary for us all!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Do you have family members involved in ball? How does that impact your weekly scheduling? We'd love to hear about your experiences in the comment section . . .</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><p><br /></p></div>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-50205942195736840892021-09-18T08:39:00.001-04:002021-09-18T08:39:27.200-04:00<p><i>Life has been rather hectic for us lately. (You, too??!!) I've had a couple of writing deadlines and I'm working with my friend, Becky of Smithellaneous fame, trying to send, edit, retrieve then email several pieces. Nerve-</i><i>racking is an understatement! So I reached back to a post from two years ago that has a strong, timeless message. I hope you enjoy it!</i></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkE9XBskmpRrs8NHXLUPaSyJDY7nV9QsWehBRu59k7kouYpVUeO-g3qrcs-NRRFt4BmSW7p4UFjsZiwwc8sSJ7e6FmbKl7NkCeCXDT1A10GOIgdmEv_7SXVyxcWJHKckU6_9CN7I500zgg/s750/IMG_3730.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="594" data-original-width="750" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkE9XBskmpRrs8NHXLUPaSyJDY7nV9QsWehBRu59k7kouYpVUeO-g3qrcs-NRRFt4BmSW7p4UFjsZiwwc8sSJ7e6FmbKl7NkCeCXDT1A10GOIgdmEv_7SXVyxcWJHKckU6_9CN7I500zgg/w200-h158/IMG_3730.jpg" width="200" /></a></i></div><i><br /></i><p></p><p>Regular readers of Embrace the Grace are already aware - we are a BIG family!<br /><br />We started out as a medium-sized tribe. One dad. One mom. Three daughters. That was the nucleus for a couple of decades.<br /><br />Then husbands started being added. Because our daughters were beautiful, brilliant and bubbly, we KNEW husbands would show up, eventually. We had no idea they would each be such amazing men who would love our girls so richly. Bonus! Family gatherings picked up a bit in both volume and in fun.<br /><br />After about three years, the greatest bounty began arriving - Grandchildren! First came Spencer Matthew. Sixteen months later was Abby Grace. The next year brought Noah Jacksen. About eighteen months later came Madison Riley and Zachariah Avery. Ava Quinn slipped in two years later. Then last year Parker Franklin and Grayson Oliver made their appearances. Now we're patiently awaiting Smith Baby #4.<br /><br />As you can imagine, our family dinners are no longer calm opportunities for adults to linger and connect. We are sixteen all together and our meals resemble something more like loud, controlled chaos. We still pause to pray together. We still sit together at one very long table extending from the dining room into the kitchen. (Well actually, it's two tables put together to look like one long table.) Once someone says, "Amen!" it immediately gets LOUD again.<br /><br />But we love being a BIG family.<br /><br />A friend made a plaque for me last year which explains our dynamic well. "Noni and Papa's - Where Cousins go to become Friends!" When Madi had her birthday last month, she had the choice of inviting one friend to join her for the day. Her choice was Abby, of course. Spencer and Noah love being together.<br /><br />Frank and I took the three oldest out this weekend to celebrate the end of their school year. They looked out for one another and shared popcorn and laughed and enjoyed every minute. Frank and I enjoyed being with them and watching how close they are.<br /><br />We never in a million years would have guessed this would be our story for this season of life. Our girls had traveled the country and had even visited foreign countries. My heart was prepared for them to go away to college. Graduate. Meet and marry the love of their life. Then move to the far flung corners of the world.<br /><br />It worked just like that until time for each of them to make a home with their husband. Each couple, by turn, made the surprising decision to settle in this area. So, Frank and I lovingly refer to this season as "Frosting Time!" To be able to live near our children and their children is a gift we do NOT take lightly. Trust me - we know to be grateful.<br /><br />A couple of weeks ago, we were sitting out on the screened porch after dinner. The rest of the family was spread all over our house. Some still in the kitchen. The young dad's playing frisbee in the backyard. Some babies in the playroom and a couple sitting with Noni and Papa on the porch.<br /><br />That's when the profound question was put to us. Spencer (8) looked over at me and asked, "Noni, what do you and Papa DO when we're not here?"<br /><br />His sincerity and puzzled expression made me smile. He couldn't imagine our house without all the people, voices and accompanying mayhem we were experiencing right then. For the first time in his young life, he realized that Noni and Papa didn't just sleep until the next time our tribe congregated. With that realization came honest curiosity.<br /><br />His innocent question told me two things:<br />1. We're all so closely woven that he had never considered us apart from himself.<br />2. He's growing into a bright, thoughtful young man.<br /><br />I ran down the list of things that occupy our evening hours and weekends. Cleaning, cooking, cards, tv, reading, phone calls, more cleaning. He was satisfied by my answer but still looked pensive. I've thought about his question a lot, too.<br /><br />It's a classic, really. Every maturing child at some point looks into the eyes of their mentor and asks a similar question, "Who are you when I'm not around?" If we aren't paying attention, we can brush off their curiosity or give some glib answer.<br /><br />Bottom line is this, I want to be the same person ALL the time. Whether I'm at work or the grocery store. Meeting a friend or having lunch with a co-worker. With my children or not. Being watched by my grandchildren or not. I want to behave in such a way that whoever is near will see me the same way every time they see me.<br /><br />That was most important to me when Frank and I first talked about marriage. He had prepared to be in ministry and I knew many pastoral families. I knew the pressure for children and the fishbowl feeling that life tends to create. So Frank and I made a solemn promise to one another. We would endeavor always to be the same people at home that we were at church.<br /><br />An overly simplistic goal for some, I know. But for us, it worked and continues to work.<br /><br />So, I'll ask you the same sort of question Spencer asked us. "Whatcha' Doin'?" What do you choose to do when no one else is around? Are you the same person all the time? Really?<br /><br />I no longer take tests at school but this was an important evaluation for me, nonetheless. Out of the mouths of babes come some of the most profound statements. May God grace us all to be the same people at all times and in all circumstances.<br /></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-87927977488284537422021-08-31T19:26:00.006-04:002021-09-05T21:06:11.105-04:00Grandma Miller's Purse<p style="text-align: left;">Did your grandmother have a magical purse, too? My Grandma Miller certainly did and how thankful I am! Here is a picture of the lady I absolutely adored: Grandma Miller and her dog, Kissy.
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBDQ5bwN0F2Gzd7gWV2ECQMpDSuONtpJHGAQeo7b8RmO5aBKsiyh0mlAU0H51uTdk22k0oyHAdMY3LYNqlEJv5qHnaAJevWQiTJFepMm704Mnsu4ZngCef1NcrGUX9BtJWFPXCFLCtG3Bj/s2048/IMG_4596.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1377" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBDQ5bwN0F2Gzd7gWV2ECQMpDSuONtpJHGAQeo7b8RmO5aBKsiyh0mlAU0H51uTdk22k0oyHAdMY3LYNqlEJv5qHnaAJevWQiTJFepMm704Mnsu4ZngCef1NcrGUX9BtJWFPXCFLCtG3Bj/s200/IMG_4596.jpg" /></a></div>
My mom's mother attended the same church we did on the east side of Pensacola. I grew up during the era when children attended all three weekly services: Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night. We had never heard of "children's church."
If the service was quiet, so were we. If the preacher got loud, so did we. If the sermon went long, we slept on the pew. <div><br /></div><div>Flannelgraph stories and songs that interested children were reserved for Sunday School, the hour before Sunday morning service. Otherwise, we operated on the premise that children were to be seen and not heard. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mom told the following story many times.
It seems one Sunday night, my grandfather (no longer married to grandma) had come to visit our church. He asked if I could sit with him and his new wife. (Those two sentences speak of an entirely different post. I won't be dealing with that here. LOL) </div><div><br /></div><div> Halfway through the pastor's first point, my three year old self must have gotten offended by something Grandpa said or did.
Without reason or explanation, I stuck out my lips, crossed my arms resolvedly and stomped my black patent leather shoes right across the front of the church to go sit with Mama. </div><div><br /></div><div> She and my dad were mortified but everyone else found it adorable so I dodged retribution - that time.
But there were other Sunday nights that were incredibly long and for a little girl and incredibly boring. During those services, I would get ancy, probably get too loud and refuse to sit still. Those evenings ended with me taking the long walk of shame. </div><div><br /></div><div> Mom and I would have to walk all the way back down the aisle while everyone stared at disobedient little Sheri knowing full well that Mom was taking me to the basement where she would discipline me sternly then return me to our pew. Not a great experience, I assure you! </div><div><br /></div><div>Enter Grandma Miller and the magical purse.
My grandma, while not educated past fourth grade, had always worked some type of job to support herself. She regaled me with stories of leaving the family farm and moving to the big city of Indianapolis when she was just seventeen years old. </div><div><br /></div><div>Grandma started out in 1919 as a waitress in an elegant Greek restaurant right downtown. I guess that's where she determined to never live in complete poverty again.
She went on to become a business woman, working beside her husband to run a tourist court (early version of a hotel) for many years. When he abandoned her, she transformed the business into small apartments and rented those by the month. So resourceful! </div><div><br /></div><div>I well remember Grandma's collection of shoes and purses. She stored them carefully in a cedar chifferobe which now sits in my office/guest room. The shoes remained in their original boxes and were stacked neatly. The matching purses were placed individually in dust envelopes for protection and stored on top of the chiffarobe. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sounds a bit prim and proper as I describe them here. But oh the wonders those purses would hold when taken down and prepared for use at church. If it had only been Grandma, each purse would have been restricted to carrying tissues, her glasses case, car keys, a black Papermate ballpoint pen and a small pad for taking notes. </div><div><br /></div><div>But Grandma hated seeing me take the walk of shame. So she devised a plan. Every Sunday she would fill her magical handbag with items that could help any child stay entertained through even the longest of services. </div><div><br /></div><div>There was the Papermate pen that I was allowed to click but only when the pastor raised his voice. Grandma and I would exchange knowing smiles of satisfaction if I managed to get in three or four clicks.
There was the note paper that became my personal sketch pad along with the cutest tiny pencils carefully sharpened for my use. </div><div><br /></div><div>Grandma also stocked the purse with food. Cheese crackers with peanut butter seemed to be her favorite. But sometimes she would select the Nekot cookies and peanut butter combo instead. Oh, so delectable. Ever the wise grandma, I would then be given a single breath mint, Certs with the gold foil wrapper. This was to cover up any evidence of snacking in church which would have been frowned upon by my mom and dad. </div><div><br /></div><div>This picture shows me with Grandma and Mama my first Christmas home from college. How I loved these women!<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimkv4G7Kk0jWTfxs4VSiIef4pUzJuM2BqpS0V5orR4rn1TclQclaIPcd6hdvf435DJ2G5YogGXWSIoW67_VNJZV8silJV87TO45pXDox6DQrArhHYwowpDPMo-FzJQwmE2faDjlZC14uv/s2048/IMG_4597.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1466" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimkv4G7Kk0jWTfxs4VSiIef4pUzJuM2BqpS0V5orR4rn1TclQclaIPcd6hdvf435DJ2G5YogGXWSIoW67_VNJZV8silJV87TO45pXDox6DQrArhHYwowpDPMo-FzJQwmE2faDjlZC14uv/s200/IMG_4597.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
I had to smile recently when Zach asked me if he could have a mint. Since my grandbabies were old enough to handle one without choking, I've kept my own purse stocked. Madi's favorite flavor has been "wintourgween" aka wintergreen. Ava has made clear she prefers "spehramint" aka spearmint. </div><div><br /></div><div>At first, I would ask for a hug or kiss. Now I just hand them over for a please and thank you. I guess Spencer has gotten too old for the mint game so Zach asked for two. "One for me and one for Brudder." </div><div><br /></div><div>My takeaway is this, everyone should have someone in their life who loves them unconditionally. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm so thankful our girls and sons have taken on the disciplining of our perfect grandchildren and have left the spoiling to us. What a Gift! </div><div><br /></div><div>Will my grandchildren remember Noni's purse as "magical"? Probably not. But my hope is that they will know they were loved fully and unconditionally. And hopefully, they'll remember a time or two that we ran interference for them, as well. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><i>How about you? Do you have fond memories of a grandparent sparing you the "walk of shame" at any point? Did they spoil you? Did your grandparents live far away? We'd love to hear a story from you in the comment section. Blessings!
</i>
</div></div>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-3145086792294994252021-08-16T14:39:00.024-04:002021-08-16T14:49:37.980-04:00Step Wisely<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgNrhC7NSXz0I8yNPbGUHac1s5nth3pTfpzP8l4tPVyo9WWT1g0H-ZmzLohcXF_XIzC3kU78k6iuxiP17r_IAUjbUvaCWhS-pLBLuDNkgnOYMSrtDAK1I5SX7E8M4JTSnqECDjwuAY5i65/s2048/IMG_4497.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgNrhC7NSXz0I8yNPbGUHac1s5nth3pTfpzP8l4tPVyo9WWT1g0H-ZmzLohcXF_XIzC3kU78k6iuxiP17r_IAUjbUvaCWhS-pLBLuDNkgnOYMSrtDAK1I5SX7E8M4JTSnqECDjwuAY5i65/w150-h200/IMG_4497.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>Why in heaven's name would I open a blog post with a picture of my foot?!<p></p><p>There is a reason, I can promise you. </p><p>This is a picture that Parker took of Noni's foot during a recent "photo shoot" he was doing. (Please be reminded Parker is three years old and things have a different perspective from the vantage point of being 2 1/2 feet tall.)</p><p>Here's the picture he snapped of his mom who was finishing her makeup in Noni's office. Great composition with his use of the door, don't you think? He must have his dad's eye for photography.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqv_Phi1idP5ARovpAlBh_AlPIbYT4vQEAh-oD5MM7lpEgBJR4s32nedAQ_1PHP82ZQSqPzREZNLBtiCTyJTR2sABz4OV2_Bzy6WJWLvKt2tbi1O45OrmlQwkuYlfre7SBp8ZukiDXayoV/s2048/IMG_4451.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1363" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqv_Phi1idP5ARovpAlBh_AlPIbYT4vQEAh-oD5MM7lpEgBJR4s32nedAQ_1PHP82ZQSqPzREZNLBtiCTyJTR2sABz4OV2_Bzy6WJWLvKt2tbi1O45OrmlQwkuYlfre7SBp8ZukiDXayoV/w133-h200/IMG_4451.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>As I scrolled back through pictures and wondered what I could use to encourage you today, I laughed aloud when I saw the picture of my foot. We were trying to entertain Parker until time for his class that Sunday morning. He grabbed my phone and proceeded to snap over twenty pictures in and around my office. I will spare you wading through the rest but some were hysterical. Ah, the eyes of a child.<div><br /></div><div>Looking at his pictures brought back to mind a little song I learned when I was myself a three year old child. Perhaps you learned it as well. One of the verses went like this, <i>"Oh be careful little feet where you go. Oh be careful little feet where you go. For the Father up above is looking down in love so be careful little feet where you go." </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>I spent several minutes pondering the truth of that simple line from the perspective of my own life. </div><div><br /></div><div>Although I've experienced quite a few detours and missed exits on my life journey, I've always tried to keep a mindset that my steps mattered. I've prayed to know direction about everything from lunch dates to a life mate. I just always wanted my steps to be appropriate and God honoring.</div><div><br /></div><div>Never in a million years could I ever have guessed that stepping toward Frank as my life mate would lead to three precious daughters, three amazing sons (in-law) and now NINE practically perfect grandchildren. And all those people have been watching to see if I choose steps walking me toward God's will.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqbjfgQGqBFNljUlPjr6JXglpBKus5KWnme4Tk4XCXSkzOHNpsA-Zv6l_XPWpx06b-4uM2EcxVVmP_JDKno5Pqvjn2zbkOzmMGxhhyaYZ0VOVagkIwMwemOgGV-BGbcR2tUxUDB-FatvGh/s446/IMG_4385.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="446" data-original-width="430" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqbjfgQGqBFNljUlPjr6JXglpBKus5KWnme4Tk4XCXSkzOHNpsA-Zv6l_XPWpx06b-4uM2EcxVVmP_JDKno5Pqvjn2zbkOzmMGxhhyaYZ0VOVagkIwMwemOgGV-BGbcR2tUxUDB-FatvGh/w193-h200/IMG_4385.jpg" width="193" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is this not the most honest picture ever?!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Two weeks ago, Frank and I had the privilege to attend a denominational conference which brought ministers from all over the nation to Orlando. Since we've been part of this organization for decades, the conference is always like a huge family reunion. We love seeing friends from college days, others we've pastored near and even many spiritual children who have served with us at different times. </div><div><br /></div><div>We especially enjoy reconnecting with many of our missionary friends who happen to be in the States for the event. Frank and I were even invited to attend a luncheon where there would be a report on a missions organization we currently support.</div><div><br /></div><div>I sent a text to our friend who is the director and offered to help in any way since we live in the area. She responded quickly asking if we would be willing to arrive early and serve as greeters for the other guests. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now, some people might have been offended by such a request. <i>"Hold the door and give directions? Are you kidding? Don't they know who we are?" </i>But Frank and I were delighted to serve as the welcoming committee. We love people and greeting is as natural for us as breathing.</div><div><br /></div><div>Little did I suspect that the Lord had prepared a divine appointment for me on that path of service. </div><div><br /></div><div>We did arrive before anyone else and stationed ourselves at the entrance of the restaurant. We welcomed several couples, always introducing ourselves then moving them on toward the banquet area. But the next couple caught me completely by surprise. </div><div><br /></div><div>Before I could offer my name the young lady said, <i>"You're Sheri Hawley, aren't you?!"</i> I checked my name tag and jokingly assured her I was. She went on, <i>"Of course I know you. You spoke for a conference I was attending almost twenty years ago. While listening to you, the Lord confirmed a call He had for my life."</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>My mouth dropped open a bit and tears stung my eyes almost immediately. She reached to give me a huge, warm hug and I tried not to drip tears on her shoulder. It was humbling and exhilarating all at the same time. How often do we find out in such a literal way that our footsteps have created a pathway for someone else to follow? </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyrPKW8Ub4Eu_TmsvVDAxnoiUeNfd9uqQfRbf_Ei9RL358If6ZxJAxwQp-7NNQHN1wOdHhsac8ls7z03g4w_YzCk-bDEwC0qboQINwa5yrt2VbQvyNGaBLX5MHmggUqtl8hVhs3jogsDzF/s2048/IMG_3206.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1771" data-original-width="2048" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyrPKW8Ub4Eu_TmsvVDAxnoiUeNfd9uqQfRbf_Ei9RL358If6ZxJAxwQp-7NNQHN1wOdHhsac8ls7z03g4w_YzCk-bDEwC0qboQINwa5yrt2VbQvyNGaBLX5MHmggUqtl8hVhs3jogsDzF/w200-h173/IMG_3206.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crystal and I captured a quick photo together</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><i>"Oh, be careful little feet where you go." </i> <div><br /></div><div>I'm so glad I didn't miss the opportunity to meet Crystal because I was too proud to hold open a door. Choosing to walk with gratitude on a short pathway of service led to a most joyful moment.</div><div><br /></div><div>Psalm 34:8 was a perfect description of that moment for me. "Taste and see that the Lord is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him!" </div><div><br /></div><div>Be encouraged, Dear Reader. Your steps do matter. Someone is watching, contemplating and most likely following in the pathway you've forged. Be careful to step wisely!</div><div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6436337434445842616.post-83503556683652738022021-07-31T21:28:00.021-04:002021-08-01T08:41:45.700-04:00The Tenacious Toddler<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikzafzEohPcEosFwHL5ip9DqVoapp80PksJ2HGEhkb611r_0yvJEWgt5axkBP6jXlbIra4SPrqwBJja9XYX9-_MiYseH4vGf_dKcmg5Fo8RABD-VRoEUGUFpjLUbEiRr5yYiYgUa7vbDjf/s873/IMG_4367.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="873" data-original-width="750" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikzafzEohPcEosFwHL5ip9DqVoapp80PksJ2HGEhkb611r_0yvJEWgt5axkBP6jXlbIra4SPrqwBJja9XYX9-_MiYseH4vGf_dKcmg5Fo8RABD-VRoEUGUFpjLUbEiRr5yYiYgUa7vbDjf/w172-h200/IMG_4367.jpg" width="172" /></a></div><br />This little guy is Amazing! His birthday was Monday and he turned three.<p></p><p>I know that may seem like a biased statement and I would have to agree with you. But if you knew Grayson Oliver Smith, like I know Grayson you would say it's true.</p><p>Typically, if you read about a "tenacious toddler" it would bring to mind images of temper tantrums and unruly children running around stores being chased by frazzled mothers yelling unrealistic threats. </p><p>In my desire to be transparent, I have to say I have witnessed a couple of less than stellar moments with young Mr. Smith's temper and his mother has indeed been frazzled from time to time. (Although I can assure you that she has never uttered a threat she wasn't willing to follow through on. His mama is one tough cookie.)</p><p>But this post describes a different kind of tenacity. </p><p>As part of all the July birthday and anniversary celebrating, Frank and I got to go to Bok Tower Gardens yesterday. We were part of an adventure involving all NINE grandchildren and the most capable child directors available - Joy and Kristin. </p><p><i>Side Note: Meagan and Nathan had saved/planned over a year to go away for their 10th wedding anniversary. However, those celebrations are best shared with only the bride and groom. What to do with four rambunctious offspring? Call your sister, of course. Joy managed her own version of boot camp so the Smiths could go away. Wrangling her four plus the Smiths' four plus Parker meant she had NINE children most of Monday through Saturday! If you'd like to applaud for her, feel free to leave a comment in the box below.)</i></p><p>It wasn't my brightest idea that we take them all to Bok Tower. The temperature topped out around 95 degrees and the famous Florida humidity felt like we were breathing through plastic wrap. The park was offering one of two FREE days to the public, so it was jam packed. </p><p>But we were on an adventure! So off we went with two kiddie wagons, a picnic lunch for 13 and a cooler filled to the brim with juices and water. </p><p>There were too many hilarious moments to record here. You'll have to ask Joy about her telling me to lower my voice when I started yelling because I thought one of the children was missing. Turns out, he was simply standing behind Papa and I couldn't see him. Oh well.</p><p>Bok Tower Gardens also has a lovely spot designed specifically for youngsters. Places to climb, make music, sing on a stage, draw and even play in water. The best part of the children's park is that everything is covered by lovely old oak trees offering at least a five degree drop in the temperature. You know where we parked the wagons, right under those trees.</p><p>One of the many playstations is a large balance beam that twists and turns four times while also offering the challenge of a steady incline. While all the children took a stab at completing the course, it was Grayson who saw the challenge as a personal issue.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrqHdW6SEM4GZn3BCjGF2yGrKDnBHRv-ILPRqejxpSzsIthvfmBnNNIY4g8Q-s7MvjwPxZRArV94OdMjCIhG6z1k8Ll4gEp2fiBHU25Ul9euJgk_k_9CMDtk9P6v9nOBq3uWUhXnMe2oPu/s2048/IMG_4341.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrqHdW6SEM4GZn3BCjGF2yGrKDnBHRv-ILPRqejxpSzsIthvfmBnNNIY4g8Q-s7MvjwPxZRArV94OdMjCIhG6z1k8Ll4gEp2fiBHU25Ul9euJgk_k_9CMDtk9P6v9nOBq3uWUhXnMe2oPu/w150-h200/IMG_4341.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><p>If you zoom in on this picture, you can almost feel the determination in that little three year old body. I stayed with him long after the other children zipped through or tired of the challenge. They went on to other stations but not Grayson. He continued to carefully ease his way along the beam, concentrating like Nick Wallenda only to fall off again after several steps. I offered my hand for support but he declined. This had to be done on his own.</p><p>It took me a while to realize what was happening but Grayson had made up his mind . . . he was going to keep at it until he conquered the challenge. Again and again he walked that first beam. Each time his tiny foot slipped off, it meant he had to go back to the start. He usually had to wait then for other children who were then in line ahead of him. But he waited.</p><p>Try again. Get a bit farther. Fall off. Run back to the start. Wait in line. Begin again.</p><p>At one point, when I could see his frustration mounting, I tried to encourage him to just start again where he fell off. Nope! He was having none of it. This had to be conquered. And the only way for him to conquer was to walk successfully every step from the very beginning to the end.</p><p>I found myself amazed that this three year old was pushing himself so hard to accomplish this feat in such a systematic way but that's our Grayson.</p><p>Over half way. Fall off. Run back to the start. Wait in a longer line. Begin again.</p><p>I'm not sure if the Lord finally sent an angel to balance him but at long last, after dozens of failed attempts, Grayson Oliver Smith made it to the end.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFOJ7Z3evjymyBDnj1F2d6khmIReKhs1asZgrFahOJM_sZGR-xFB39WW0c4rAjC1mtmLN1g2qL9A1GHTvp_OFHGB5GWPRVAdhhfpFCHZBQbgU4Z-L6th819dOqYfV19LcjzyVK_TBc0Nub/s2048/IMG_4340.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFOJ7Z3evjymyBDnj1F2d6khmIReKhs1asZgrFahOJM_sZGR-xFB39WW0c4rAjC1mtmLN1g2qL9A1GHTvp_OFHGB5GWPRVAdhhfpFCHZBQbgU4Z-L6th819dOqYfV19LcjzyVK_TBc0Nub/w150-h200/IMG_4340.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>The look on his tired, sweaty little face was priceless! He was so very pleased with himself and rightly so. His effort had finally paid off. That much effort deserved one more close up, don't you think?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Dvt_MDRq6R_6PTarkaPrmG5ZcT9EEnqMYZB9weTqHyCuQ0UB-cKbFxz8-6SkFDuCF8mFYPrBz06SlqEuh9GSESUWno3bmnMDvLAPuc6ZlRZZoJhE1ztpZHCZlUQIMJlJtk3gRYvl-jcu/s2048/IMG_4342.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Dvt_MDRq6R_6PTarkaPrmG5ZcT9EEnqMYZB9weTqHyCuQ0UB-cKbFxz8-6SkFDuCF8mFYPrBz06SlqEuh9GSESUWno3bmnMDvLAPuc6ZlRZZoJhE1ztpZHCZlUQIMJlJtk3gRYvl-jcu/w150-h200/IMG_4342.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br /><p>Is there really an Olympian from any country as proud as that kid is right there? I think not. (No, I'm not crying . . . you're crying.)</p><p>For our trip home, the three little boys were buckled in to the van Papa was driving. The tired, stinky toddlers fell asleep almost immediately. Joy had loaded her four in their van and left just before us. Madi and Noah were with Kristin and me in my car. Their magpie chattering eventually tapered off and in the quiet, I pondered Grayson's determination. </p><p>I thanked the Lord for helping him stick with it until he finished. I was grateful I had been watching and didn't miss that amazing little smile of victory. Mostly, I prayed that Grayson's tenacity would serve him well for his future.</p><p>How about you, Dear Reader? Is there something you need to keep pushing yourself to accomplish? Is there a goal you set for yourself but you keep falling off the beam, so to speak? </p><p>Take a lesson from our Tenacious Toddler. Don't give up! Keep pressing for the prize. It may be taking more effort than you first imagined but if it's a worthwhile goal, keep going. The joy you'll feel when it's finally accomplished will certainly outweigh the frustrations you've felt while trying and failing and trying again.</p><p>I hope someday, when he's all grown up, Grayson will read this post and maybe even remember how excited he was in that moment. It would be wonderful if I could once again say, "Keep giving it all you've got, Grayson. Noni is proud of you!"</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Sheri Hawleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01793306141253278799noreply@blogger.com5