I met Mrs. Laurette S. during my time as a speech competitor. I was watching a debate round which happened to have her sons involved. Mrs. S. sat down next to me, and we introduced ourselves. But, contrary to my previous experiences in such circumstances, she kept going! I really appreciate it when grown ups actually take the time to talk to me and express interest in me. Which she did!
Dear Mrs. S.
I know I've told you this before, but I just have to say thank you again! Thank you for being friendly and interested in a random stranger and kid. I am so grateful for you! I keep the little email you wrote me towards the beginning of our interactions at the top of my inbox where I can see it. And I often re-read it. You have such a sweet personality and manner, even towards a youngster like me.
I love your passion and your smile. You have made a definite positive impact in my life. Thank you for showing that you care!
In Christ,
Abigail D.
Memorize:
"But My God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus." Phil. 4:19 (KJV)
Monday, October 31, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Letter of Gratitude
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I've known the Edwin B. family forever. Well, as long as I can remember anyway. Our families have always been on excellent terms, but there is one particular instance that sets them apart in my mind. It was just after our family had moved to Oregon and I was desperately homesick for my home state. As in, desperately. My mother decided to attend a conference back home, and she took me with her, but not to the conference. The Edwin B. family most graciously offered to put me up for a few days. It was one of the best times of my life. (And I did get over my homesickness because of that trip. Sometimes you just have to go home once, and then you have the courage to go away again.)
Dear Edwin B. Family,
Thank you so much for taking me into your home that year. While I was a bit young and naive at the time, I realize now that I probably inconvenienced you, or at least flouted your preferences for foods and dress. And yet, what really sticks out to me is how much you went out of your way to make me feel at home. I remember many details of that visit that would be a case in point. Like the bean soup you made one evening because I happened to mention we had it a lot at home, but that I discovered later was not your idea of a fabulous meal. I remember several other meals or things you did for me under similar circumstances.
Even the very slight mis-communication at the beginning of the visit points to how much you all cared about making a guest fell welcome. It was about the fiddle music you had playing. I remember you asked if I liked fiddle music, and I answered that it depended on my mood. You interpreted that to mean that I didn't like it, (although I did, hence the mis-communication. :D ) But based on that interpretation, you turned it off. See, even at the cost of personal preferences, you went out of your way to show that you cared.
It was one of the most memorable times in my life. I remember the hike up the road, with the grand kids/nieces/nephews in the wagon. And the sunflowers. The beautiful sunflowers. And the Purple Cows!
I just want to say, Thank You! Thank you for everything! For showing that you cared about a homesick little girl. Thank you.
In Christ,
Abigail D.
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I've known the Edwin B. family forever. Well, as long as I can remember anyway. Our families have always been on excellent terms, but there is one particular instance that sets them apart in my mind. It was just after our family had moved to Oregon and I was desperately homesick for my home state. As in, desperately. My mother decided to attend a conference back home, and she took me with her, but not to the conference. The Edwin B. family most graciously offered to put me up for a few days. It was one of the best times of my life. (And I did get over my homesickness because of that trip. Sometimes you just have to go home once, and then you have the courage to go away again.)
Dear Edwin B. Family,
Thank you so much for taking me into your home that year. While I was a bit young and naive at the time, I realize now that I probably inconvenienced you, or at least flouted your preferences for foods and dress. And yet, what really sticks out to me is how much you went out of your way to make me feel at home. I remember many details of that visit that would be a case in point. Like the bean soup you made one evening because I happened to mention we had it a lot at home, but that I discovered later was not your idea of a fabulous meal. I remember several other meals or things you did for me under similar circumstances.
Even the very slight mis-communication at the beginning of the visit points to how much you all cared about making a guest fell welcome. It was about the fiddle music you had playing. I remember you asked if I liked fiddle music, and I answered that it depended on my mood. You interpreted that to mean that I didn't like it, (although I did, hence the mis-communication. :D ) But based on that interpretation, you turned it off. See, even at the cost of personal preferences, you went out of your way to show that you cared.
It was one of the most memorable times in my life. I remember the hike up the road, with the grand kids/nieces/nephews in the wagon. And the sunflowers. The beautiful sunflowers. And the Purple Cows!
I just want to say, Thank You! Thank you for everything! For showing that you cared about a homesick little girl. Thank you.
In Christ,
Abigail D.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Letter of Gratitude
I met Mr. and Mrs. L. through speech and debate. Mrs. L was my speech coach. It is my humble opinion that they have blessed me very very very much through their willingness to listen, share expertise, and for their personal interest in me.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. L.
Thank you so very much for absolutely everything. You make me feel special. It's not often that I'm willing to share what God's been doing with me with other people, but I must admit Mr. L, that your good-naturedness, jokes, and true desire to listen has won its way. (Even if some of the jokes do shock me a little!) It means a lot to have someone who listens. Really!
Mrs. L, you listen too. But what I especially appreciate about you is your willingness to work one on one and to explain things until I understand them. It shows that you care not just about getting a speech to sound good, but also about the student personally.
You will both always have a special place in my heart. Thank you!
With love in Christ,
Abigail D.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. L.
Thank you so very much for absolutely everything. You make me feel special. It's not often that I'm willing to share what God's been doing with me with other people, but I must admit Mr. L, that your good-naturedness, jokes, and true desire to listen has won its way. (Even if some of the jokes do shock me a little!) It means a lot to have someone who listens. Really!
Mrs. L, you listen too. But what I especially appreciate about you is your willingness to work one on one and to explain things until I understand them. It shows that you care not just about getting a speech to sound good, but also about the student personally.
You will both always have a special place in my heart. Thank you!
With love in Christ,
Abigail D.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Letters of Gratitude
It's almost Thanksgiving. Ok, maybe not quite, but, almost! And since it's so close, I thought I'd do something a little different in the next few weeks leading up to it. It's kind of been on my mind for a while.
I'd like to honor the older people in my life who have made an impact or influenced me in a special way. Now, since I have to limit this list a bit, I'm not including my family because, well, they should know already how special and awesome they are to me! And, if you're not included, it's not because I don't love you. Really! I do! This list includes both single and married people who are all, I think, over 25. When I was little, most of these people were already adults, or at least my young perspective perceived them as such. (As I've gotten older, some of them have seemed to get a bit younger. Or something.) Oh, and you'll probably be seeing a theme. And I'll tell you by Thanksgiving or so the one particular manner in which all of these people have influenced me.
Anyway, today I'd like to write a letter of gratitude to one of my oldest and most treasured friends. Not that she's the oldest friend, just one of the friends I've had the longest. In fact, I usually count her as my first real friend.
Dear Laura Hdn.,
I love you so much! I often pray that God will bless you for blessing me. I know I was just a little kid when we first knew each other; and you were an adult already! I know under the circumstances that many would not have taken any notice of me. After all, you had your own friends. But you did reach out to me in such a special way and at a time when I really needed someone to care. You probably don't know that I had gone nearly 8 years or so without a friend.
I am so grateful an thankful for you, Laura! Our traditional very hard bear hug has stood me well. (Although if you're wondering why I haven't done it so well lately, it's because I accidentally cracked someone's rib once and I didn't want it to happen to you!) Over the years, you have always been there to give me one of those hugs whenever I need one. And now, although distance separates us, I can still imagine getting one from you and that cheers me up when I'm discouraged.
Laura, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for caring, for being there, for being a lasting friend. Thank you!
With sincere love and high regard in Christ,
A.A.D
I'd like to honor the older people in my life who have made an impact or influenced me in a special way. Now, since I have to limit this list a bit, I'm not including my family because, well, they should know already how special and awesome they are to me! And, if you're not included, it's not because I don't love you. Really! I do! This list includes both single and married people who are all, I think, over 25. When I was little, most of these people were already adults, or at least my young perspective perceived them as such. (As I've gotten older, some of them have seemed to get a bit younger. Or something.) Oh, and you'll probably be seeing a theme. And I'll tell you by Thanksgiving or so the one particular manner in which all of these people have influenced me.
Anyway, today I'd like to write a letter of gratitude to one of my oldest and most treasured friends. Not that she's the oldest friend, just one of the friends I've had the longest. In fact, I usually count her as my first real friend.
Dear Laura Hdn.,
I love you so much! I often pray that God will bless you for blessing me. I know I was just a little kid when we first knew each other; and you were an adult already! I know under the circumstances that many would not have taken any notice of me. After all, you had your own friends. But you did reach out to me in such a special way and at a time when I really needed someone to care. You probably don't know that I had gone nearly 8 years or so without a friend.
I am so grateful an thankful for you, Laura! Our traditional very hard bear hug has stood me well. (Although if you're wondering why I haven't done it so well lately, it's because I accidentally cracked someone's rib once and I didn't want it to happen to you!) Over the years, you have always been there to give me one of those hugs whenever I need one. And now, although distance separates us, I can still imagine getting one from you and that cheers me up when I'm discouraged.
Laura, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for caring, for being there, for being a lasting friend. Thank you!
With sincere love and high regard in Christ,
A.A.D
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Bed Bugs: A True Story
Contrary to what you may think, this story has absolutely nothing to do with bed bugs. Only with a bed that bugs. You know. Something that annoys you.
Dark and early this morning. (Why do they say 'bright and early?' Everyone knows early mornings are always dark. Morning starts at midnight. Seriously!)
So, dark and early this morning, I awakened. No, not with a start. I awakened gradually. About the time I was half awake, I realized that something was terribly out of place. (There's a pun there, but you won't get it until I tell you the rest.) Since it was early, I didn't exactly want to be awake. But, since I didn't know exactly what was wrong, I woke up all the way so I could figure it out. That wasn't too hard. All I had to do was turn over to realize that my sheets, instead of being nicely stretched out over the entirety of my bed, were piled up at my face. (See! I told you something was out of place!)
I thrash a lot, so this is relatively normal. However, I usually don't wake up all the way unless I'm cold. Since certain people had turned the heater up to 70, this was not a problem. I sadly turned over once again with the realization that it had not been necessary to wake up since I wasn't going to get up and fix it right then since I wasn't cold. (Long sentence) As an aside, every time I wash my sheets I attempt to make my bed in a new way in a hopeless attempt to make sure my sheets remain tucked in properly. It never works.
Anyway, you may think that's the end of the story. But there's more.
You see, this evening, I finally got around to doing the inevitable job of completely remaking my bed. Why didn't I do it earlier? I was hoping I could wash them. Unfortunately, there wasn't time since Tuesday is laundry day. So, not only did I have the sad task of fixing my bed from scratch, I didn't even get any benefits out of it. In fact, there were only more disappointments.
What disappointments? I like my bed to be neat, but because my room is a disaster at the moment, I was unable to access my bed from the correct angle necessary to make my bed neat. (Another long sentence.) In order to access my bed in such a manner, I would have had to move at least four different piles of *things.*
What did I do? I made a lazy choice that I'm quite sure I'll be sorry for tomorrow morning. Instead of moving the piles and tucking in the sheets properly, I didn't move the piles and therefore did not tuck in my sheets. My bed is sloppy right now. And I wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow morning I woke up to the same exact problem.
Moral of the story: 1: Don't thrash in bed and your sheets will remain tucked in. (On the other hand, they last longer since you're never in the same place twice) and 2: If you do thrash, keep your room clean (it wasn't my stuff) so that you can have direct access to every angle of your bed.
Dark and early this morning. (Why do they say 'bright and early?' Everyone knows early mornings are always dark. Morning starts at midnight. Seriously!)
So, dark and early this morning, I awakened. No, not with a start. I awakened gradually. About the time I was half awake, I realized that something was terribly out of place. (There's a pun there, but you won't get it until I tell you the rest.) Since it was early, I didn't exactly want to be awake. But, since I didn't know exactly what was wrong, I woke up all the way so I could figure it out. That wasn't too hard. All I had to do was turn over to realize that my sheets, instead of being nicely stretched out over the entirety of my bed, were piled up at my face. (See! I told you something was out of place!)
I thrash a lot, so this is relatively normal. However, I usually don't wake up all the way unless I'm cold. Since certain people had turned the heater up to 70, this was not a problem. I sadly turned over once again with the realization that it had not been necessary to wake up since I wasn't going to get up and fix it right then since I wasn't cold. (Long sentence) As an aside, every time I wash my sheets I attempt to make my bed in a new way in a hopeless attempt to make sure my sheets remain tucked in properly. It never works.
Anyway, you may think that's the end of the story. But there's more.
You see, this evening, I finally got around to doing the inevitable job of completely remaking my bed. Why didn't I do it earlier? I was hoping I could wash them. Unfortunately, there wasn't time since Tuesday is laundry day. So, not only did I have the sad task of fixing my bed from scratch, I didn't even get any benefits out of it. In fact, there were only more disappointments.
What disappointments? I like my bed to be neat, but because my room is a disaster at the moment, I was unable to access my bed from the correct angle necessary to make my bed neat. (Another long sentence.) In order to access my bed in such a manner, I would have had to move at least four different piles of *things.*
What did I do? I made a lazy choice that I'm quite sure I'll be sorry for tomorrow morning. Instead of moving the piles and tucking in the sheets properly, I didn't move the piles and therefore did not tuck in my sheets. My bed is sloppy right now. And I wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow morning I woke up to the same exact problem.
Moral of the story: 1: Don't thrash in bed and your sheets will remain tucked in. (On the other hand, they last longer since you're never in the same place twice) and 2: If you do thrash, keep your room clean (it wasn't my stuff) so that you can have direct access to every angle of your bed.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Homeless or Hopeless?
I must say, my attitude towards those I see on street corners begging is probably not the best. They often seem like hypocrites. After all, who doesn't know that many of them are not really trying to get a real job. Begging is their job. I've actually witnessed some of them walking briskly towards their particular corner, looking like normal people. They hide their fancy backpack under or behind a bush, walk to the middle of the corner and as they do so, their smile fades and they shrink into themselves and put on a sad, hurt face and posture. They carry a sign saying, 'homeless, please help, God bless,' while they wear designer jeans and smoke a cigarette down the street during their 'lunch break.'
Now, what really drives me nuts is the fact that these people detract from people who may really need help. It can be difficult to discern between them. And you don't really feel like giving money to what may be a hypocrite, so you decide not to help anyone.
But, on the other hand, whether they're hypocrites or really in need, I can't help but thinking that they are all in need of a Savior. Some of them may not really be homeless, but they are real people and as such they are people we should share Jesus with. They are people with no hope.
This is why I appreciate the ministry begun by some slim, by-sight, acquaintances. I sort of met one of them while I was doing speech and debate. Miss LsR and Miss LR are sisters who saw this need at an early age. (I believe they were not quite teenagers) On their own initiative, they began carrying bags around to give to panhandlers. They have dealt very discerningly with the issue of hypocrites by not giving money.
The bag is filled with non-perishable food, a water bottle, socks, a hand wipe, Kleenex, and a Gospel Tract. Their ministry has grown in a very few short years. Now they have people all over the East and West coast who carry bags in their cars to hand out. They also have people in the Philippines. While I have yet to try it, I love how tangible and practical this is. To find out more, go to www.h2obags.com/.
Now, what really drives me nuts is the fact that these people detract from people who may really need help. It can be difficult to discern between them. And you don't really feel like giving money to what may be a hypocrite, so you decide not to help anyone.
But, on the other hand, whether they're hypocrites or really in need, I can't help but thinking that they are all in need of a Savior. Some of them may not really be homeless, but they are real people and as such they are people we should share Jesus with. They are people with no hope.
This is why I appreciate the ministry begun by some slim, by-sight, acquaintances. I sort of met one of them while I was doing speech and debate. Miss LsR and Miss LR are sisters who saw this need at an early age. (I believe they were not quite teenagers) On their own initiative, they began carrying bags around to give to panhandlers. They have dealt very discerningly with the issue of hypocrites by not giving money.
The bag is filled with non-perishable food, a water bottle, socks, a hand wipe, Kleenex, and a Gospel Tract. Their ministry has grown in a very few short years. Now they have people all over the East and West coast who carry bags in their cars to hand out. They also have people in the Philippines. While I have yet to try it, I love how tangible and practical this is. To find out more, go to www.h2obags.com/.
Friday, September 9, 2011
A Time to Remember
Ecclesiastes 3 is one of my favorite passages of Scripture.
"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth? I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men to be exercised in it. He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end." ~Ecc. 3:1-11 (KJV).
While the phrase, 'a time to remember' is not included in this particular passage, there are many instances in Scripture which talk about remembering.
10 years ago on Sunday, the world as I knew it changed dramatically, permanently, tragically. Several airplanes were hijacked by terrorists and were flown into the World Trade Center. A third plane crashed in the Pentagon and a fourth was intended to be crashed at the White House. All four places were and are places of national significance.
I was young, but I still remember the hush, the tension, the uncertainty. No planes overhead, few cars on the road. I remember watching on TV as they played over and over the replay of the World Trade Center. I remember Dad saying more than once: "Life is going to be very different from now on. This world has changed forever." It did.
Because I remember, I am saddened as I realize that many people don't remember. They were either too young, or they have forgotten. Yes, it was ten years ago. But ten years is not that long. Surely we could have remembered the sacrifices that people made. It is time to remember.
I am saddened by the lack of remembrance. I still tear up a little as I think about this event. It was a huge turning point in history. It is equal to any number of other turning points. The Great Awakening, the American Revolution, the Civil War, the World Wars, the Exodus. We remember those thousands of years later. Why have we forgotten this less than ten years later? Yes, it does cross our minds this year. After all, Ten Years is special. Like an anniversary. But it's not an anniversary. It's a memorial. We ought to remember, we ought to teach our children to remember. Think of all the ways it has effected us. Tighter and more objectionable airport security is only one poignant example.
(My apologies, this just posted before I finished.)
Think of the sacrifices others made. Like the fourth airplane. Why didn't it hit it's target. Because the passengers on that plane sacrificed their lives instead. Most notably a man named Todd Beamer. These people have names. They were real. Let's remember. (A book review on Let's Roll by Lisa Beamer will be on the Bookworm's Resource page shortly)
"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. A time to be born and a time to die..." A Time to Remember, and a time to forget.
"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth? I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men to be exercised in it. He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end." ~Ecc. 3:1-11 (KJV).
While the phrase, 'a time to remember' is not included in this particular passage, there are many instances in Scripture which talk about remembering.
10 years ago on Sunday, the world as I knew it changed dramatically, permanently, tragically. Several airplanes were hijacked by terrorists and were flown into the World Trade Center. A third plane crashed in the Pentagon and a fourth was intended to be crashed at the White House. All four places were and are places of national significance.
I was young, but I still remember the hush, the tension, the uncertainty. No planes overhead, few cars on the road. I remember watching on TV as they played over and over the replay of the World Trade Center. I remember Dad saying more than once: "Life is going to be very different from now on. This world has changed forever." It did.
Because I remember, I am saddened as I realize that many people don't remember. They were either too young, or they have forgotten. Yes, it was ten years ago. But ten years is not that long. Surely we could have remembered the sacrifices that people made. It is time to remember.
I am saddened by the lack of remembrance. I still tear up a little as I think about this event. It was a huge turning point in history. It is equal to any number of other turning points. The Great Awakening, the American Revolution, the Civil War, the World Wars, the Exodus. We remember those thousands of years later. Why have we forgotten this less than ten years later? Yes, it does cross our minds this year. After all, Ten Years is special. Like an anniversary. But it's not an anniversary. It's a memorial. We ought to remember, we ought to teach our children to remember. Think of all the ways it has effected us. Tighter and more objectionable airport security is only one poignant example.
(My apologies, this just posted before I finished.)
Think of the sacrifices others made. Like the fourth airplane. Why didn't it hit it's target. Because the passengers on that plane sacrificed their lives instead. Most notably a man named Todd Beamer. These people have names. They were real. Let's remember. (A book review on Let's Roll by Lisa Beamer will be on the Bookworm's Resource page shortly)
"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. A time to be born and a time to die..." A Time to Remember, and a time to forget.
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