tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-92070060418863868442024-03-13T05:48:28.704-05:00the Fehrenheightsignite.rise to new heights.Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-89373318616404606252014-09-24T06:10:00.000-05:002014-09-29T08:18:51.303-05:00the second time around.<div style="text-align: left;">
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<b><i>Dear Readers,</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b><b><i>I have decided to write a book in blog form. The topic will be on the Second Coming of Christ. Don't ask how I think it's possible for me to write a book this way. I just feel inspired to write my thoughts down and see what happens. The title of the book will be called </i></b><br />
<b><i>"THE SECOND TIME AROUND." </i></b></div>
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<b><i>Here I go!!!! </i> </b></div>
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<b><br /></b><b><br /></b><b>Chapter 1 </b><br />
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<b><i>Hello World</i></b></div>
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What would happen if Christ came down to modern day earth for a short, fly by the seat of His holy pants visit? Maybe He would say something like, "Hello World. You need to get ready because I am coming back soon!" How would the world respond? Let's just pretend He came down to check on things and to make one last alter call before the big day.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">A walk down Wall Street!</span></b></div>
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In the center of the trading room floor on Wall Street, a stirring voice like no other vibrates across the noisy and crowded room. Like a loud speaker echoing sacred instructions, the sound travels from the lips of the loving Messiah. With watchful eyes the muffled multitude give way to a figure dressed in a plain white robe. The floor is in silent shock as Jesus speaks.<br />
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<span style="color: red; text-align: center;">"Take everything that you have and give it all to me." Give me your bombs, your power, your wealth, the fame, your priesthood, the church, your sin, your dreams, the minds that you create with, your family, your future and your world. Give me your sin forsaken lives." Thus saith the Lord.</span><br />
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For the past few years I have been contemplating on the promise of Christ's return and how this impacts my daily walk with Him. As a young Christian I usually thought of the second coming in very simplistic terms. What will the return of Christ look like and what happens to those who aren't ready? In regards to this approaching day, I have let my imagination go wild like a rat on a running wheel. From the far reaching recesses of my mind I keep telling myself that I have to be ready for His return. I am reminding myself to look up for that blessed matrimonial moment when the bride will meet her GLORIOUS GROOM for the first time. And what about those who aren't ready? On the day of Jesus' second coming I have pictured one unsuspecting soul frantically stuffing every valuable he can into one measly bag. A lost soul making one last ditch effort to grab his gold.</div>
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Then I thought of another side to the story. What is it about those who feel led to blurt out the actual day of Jesus return? Imagine His patience when it comes to the ignorance of misguided men. Haven't we learned that any feeble attempt to proclaim the day of His coming causes a stench that rises to the high Heavens? This is heresy that irritates the all-knowing nostrils of the only one who already knows the day and time. In short, it stinks. It is loosey goosey false teaching that stands on sinking sand and not on the Solid Rock of His promise. There have been too many second coming soothsayers who have tried to predict the return of Christ. Harold Camping from California proclaimed that it would happen on May 21, 2011. This poor man was so off with his prophecy that he got his dates wrong twice. This man had a limited cockeyed vision regarding this very special day. So with this in mind, I will carefully dodge the so-called doomsday predictions and avoid such foolish foreshadowing.<br />
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But I do wonder what it was like when Jesus came down to earth the first time around. Everyone knows how this story goes. He was the son of a meek carpenter named Joseph and born from a virgin mother named Mary. His entrance was all but kingly and the journey of this carpenter's life would bring the anointed message about the riches of His grace. And in the sharing of this living gospel, Jesus' words gave life and hope to the lowly. Many would trust in Him as the Christ. In doing so, they were persecuted and killed by the Romans, thus paying the ultimate price to follow their King.<br />
On the other hand, high society offered a direct opposition to Jesus while strutting in their white robes of ridicule and proclaiming their rightful seat on the throne.<br />
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Many religious leaders held in high regard rejected Jesus solely on the merits of sinful arrogance and deadly rituals. I mean deadly because these rituals would someday lead to the crucifixion of Christ. The spikes used to nail Jesus on the cross were symbols of a worldly wedge that were used by Satan to strategically drive fear and spiritual misery into the people of God. And on the day of His death, the vexed crowd gave a rebellious shout,<i>"Jesus, you will never be our king." </i>The world of wealth and the laying up of religious works had crucified Jesus. On this day, religion was puffed up with pride and for the good of man, self was perched high on a pedestal. On the first time around, religious pharisees wanted to live high on the temple hog and wanted no part in serving the lowly one called Jesus. With so much suffering and torment I wonder if Jesus would do it all over again?<br />
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Malachi 3:6 says, "I am the Lord, I change not."I believe He would preach, cast out devils, heal the sick and raise the dead. He would be the same radiant miracle man from Galilee who was predestined to be crucified by His own people. He would confound the wise and chastise the money changers in the temple. If He had to do it all over again, every single step He took through this lonely journey would remain the same. His goal will forever be to tell us that the riches of His grace are all that we will ever need. <b>Just Jesus.</b> And because He is a God of love and forgiveness, He remains patient with us. Does this sound familiar? I think about the rich man and what happened when he met Jesus. "What must I do to be saved." the rich man asked? Then Jesus says, "sell all that you have and follow me."<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">No other gods before Me</span></b></div>
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Jesus is saying, Give all of your gold tipped sandals away to the shoeless, walk back to me in your bare feet and then follow me. Of course the rich young ruler walked away with sadness. This leads me back to my "what if" story about Jesus going to Wall Street and saying, "Give it all to me. If Jesus pulled this supernatural stunt today, Chaos would ensue and a rash of hellish hysteria would break out like mumps on a crazed monkey. So why mention a made up story about Jesus going to Wall Street?</div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">The first and the last time!!!!</span></div>
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I know two simple truths that have guided me my entire Christian life. The World Hates Christ more than ever and this will remain true until the end of time. And lastly, you can bet that Jesus will never be crucified again. A earthly vessel once weak and bruised has long since vanished as He walks across the Heavens. The Christ, with His side once ripped open with a spear now sits in unblemished form on the right hand of the Father. Never again will He be humiliated and left to hang in a bloody shame. While gasping in brutal death, His beloved Mary looked on with grief stricken breath. A defiant and a steadfast disbelief racked the minds of those who cast their devilish gaze upon her dying son. On this dreaded day He would only lay down His Heavenly body once. And as the darkness swallowed the earth and held it in breathless suspense, His power began to shake the foundation of a Christ forsaken world. In Hell's death, Jesus would soon live again to reign over Heaven and Earth.<br />
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<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">The old earth will pass away.</span></b></i></div>
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Barely standing in the remnants of His rapture I see an old worn out fence burdened by the multitude of its faithless straddlers. The time for choosing sides is now over and the earth will have its first true close encounter of the third kind. The earth and all of its creation will see the all in one<b> </b><i>Father, Son and the Holy Spirit. </i>Time for true repentance and conversion will be too late. Giving to Jesus will be useless and the righteous Christ will rule the world with a rod of judgement. Suddenly, I hear the sound of destruction and all earthly things are gone. The Godless stand alone, no longer held in Jesus loving hand but gripped by the God of wrath. Lavished in love, the robe of Christ dazzles with a wave of radiant luster. Dressed in the splendid array of Heaven's best, the faithless stand before Him with nail in hand. Woe to the wicked who are held captive and forever defeated. On <i>the second time around</i> all of creation will bow in lowly adoration.<br />
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<i><b><span style="color: #b45f06;">"<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Christ light illuminating the dusk, and away with bowing at the feet of mere dust."</span></span></b></i></div>
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On this <i>the second time around, Jesus wont be coming </i>as a lowly lamb but will rule with a thunderous roar as the wolves of wall street will be devoured, no longer feasting on their cuisine of contempt. On the second time around, the praises of His saints will sound off as they dine on the supreme highness of the Master Chef. The lost echoes of Eden will ring for the long awaited reunion.<br />
The clouds will burst with joy as creation gives way to the supreme deity who has overcome death. No more sitting in green pastures with flocks of sheep grazing nearby. The Sunday school lesson will be over and sin will be struck down with the hand of His swift correction. The world's peace will stand teetering on a tight rope of sin as fallen humanity starts its descent to judgement. Like a bat out of Hell, Satan rushes to deceive all who will believe a lie. Heaven responds with haste and the Holy Spirit stirs. The beloved beings shout with ecstasy as a great tablecloth is spread and the finishing touches are complete. With one single nod, Jesus commands the angels to move. All of Heaven comes down to earth flashing beams of light across the sky as Gabriel slowly raises the trumpet. In one immaculate moment the end of an imperfect earth begins. The trumpet sounds a salute and gives way to "<b>the</b><i><b> Mighty Wind</b></i>. " A united song is proclaimed.<b> "We sing, Glory oh God."</b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: start;"> </span><span style="text-align: start;">Christ is coming. No dates included.</span></span></b></div>
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Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-76883802558866798632014-08-12T12:00:00.001-05:002014-08-12T12:00:54.440-05:00no words<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-77933005877224534382014-08-11T12:01:00.000-05:002014-08-11T12:01:13.417-05:00jump a bump<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">~backwards, the great divide i cross</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">detour to dark, a hole in chains</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">half of a heart, words are lost</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">fading dreams i shout to swear</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">storms hit the sea, do i drown?</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">a wall there, my quiet wail, pray i dare?</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">downward, steps then spiral, faith far from up</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">trip in terror, web of lies no end?</span></i></b></div>
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<i><b><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">signs, life, tunnel, light- jump</span></b></i></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;"><b><i> BUMPS OF LIFE</i></b></span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A dead man can't jump. But if your alive, you have a shot at squeezing everything you can out of your life. For the past seven months, my life has looked like this....</span></i></b><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>USED UP</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>Sometimes life has a way of disrupting the most carefully laid plans. You feel used up and the pieces of your life are scattered in every direction. </i></b></span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Where is </i></b><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>God and is He some maniacal bomb maker who has went atomic on us? In my months of bumps, I was sent in a tail spin, running for cover, cradled in a blanket of a grey unsettling smoke. And maybe I was blinded and unable to clearly see His plan. The car, the house, money, your career, your talents and your friends can be blown to bits in order for God to start over on a broken and better us. What do you do when you feel empty with nothing left to give?</i></b></div>
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<b>JUMP JUMP JUMP JUMP JUMP JUMP JUMP JUMP JUMP JUMP JUMP... RIBBIT</b></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u style="background-color: #3d85c6;">FAITH</u></span></div>
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<i><b>What if we were moved to jump by FAITH in both the good and bad times of life? Or do you choose to do what I did? During this bumpy, frenzied phase of my life, I was held in check by the perpetual droppings of my own personal load of DUNG. Like a </b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><b>bump</b></span><b> on my languishing log, I made the choice to take no leaps of faith. My faith was sluggish and I became paralyzed by my bumps. </b></i><b><i>A lazy sloth shot with a tranquiler gun would have moved faster than I did.</i></b><b><i> During my rocky months of bumps, I learned a few things. I found out that these bumps of life never leave and they can be big or small. I also discovered that some of the same bumps will stick around for months. And yes, it's no secret that everyone seems to know your business. Your bumps are put on blast for everyone to see and get more magnified when your know it all neighbor singes your nostrils like a hyena with halitosis. They swear to God that they have all the right answers. </i></b><b><i>The unwanted chatter keeps throttling your eardrum from across the fence like an eagle in crazy heat. The constant chirping of meddling mouths tempted me to offer a strategically placed strip of duck tape so that I </i></b><b><i>could suffer in silence. </i></b><br />
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<b><i><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">READY FOR ACTION</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i>How often is it that we get caught off guard without our jumping shoes on? Don't we get it? </i></b><b><i>Lumps, bumps and bruises will happen. Through these last seven months, I have learned to</i></b><i style="font-weight: bold;">"</i><span style="background-color: #93c47d; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">live in jump mode.</span><i><b>"I have become a, "frogman of faith", transformed by the tender kiss of a God who wants nothing but my best long jump during my fight in the perilous battlefield. I am sitting on my cozy lily pad, continually suited with sneakers that are laced to the top. I rest and lie in wait for the next moment I get to show God just how far I can jump. When my chance comes, He will be watching as I rise high, jumping above the temporary traps and hurdles of life. He will sit back in amusement as I land on my feet. And when I don't,</b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I will trust in the grace of God to get me through each tough bump of life</span><b>. Get ready for some action, brace yourself and <span style="font-size: large;">Jump a Bump.</span></b></i><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;"><u>I am a Jumper in Training</u></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Note~ Those who enjoy your favorite cup of whatever, I am introducing Mug Moments. These are thoughts that have helped me through.</i></b></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">MUG MOMENTS</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b>when you drink, drink.</b></i></span></div>
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Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-33257990362103955892014-02-05T14:44:00.000-06:002014-02-05T14:57:21.929-06:00 Starring as....<div style="text-align: center;">
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Once again the entire world has seen a talented star exit center stage. Another delicate star that was dimmed too early. The curtain has been closed on Phillip Seymour Hoffman's brilliant but dramatically painful life. Here is a man who achieved monumental success despite suffering from a very public drug addiction. PSH did a masterful job playing such complex characters, yet always managed to hide the pain behind his silver screen smile. How do we deal with one more artist who has taken another deadly turn down the well traveled road of self destruction? PSH was an artist who offered us so many powerful works of portrayal. Years ago I asked myself why so many artists seem to be destined to a life of tragic consequences. Sadly, yet again, one of the great artist of our day had one last heroin haze and took his final bow. His three children were only a few blocks away from his apartment waiting to see him.<i><b style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </b><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-size: small;">His last role was starring as a desperate man on the run from an adversary called himself. </span></i><br />
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<i><b style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Who cares? family~friends~fans~media~industry~dealers</b></i><br />
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<i><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="color: red;"><b> Do you care<span style="font-size: x-large;">?</span> <span style="font-size: large;">prove it.<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="color: #674ea7;">We can all join together and help.</span> </span></span></b></span></span></i><br />
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<i><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"> sing</span></span><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: large;">dance</span><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">write</span><span style="font-size: large;">paint</span><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">play</span><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: large;">coach</span><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">act</span><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: large;">direct</span><span style="color: yellow; font-size: large;">produce</span><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">az </span></span></span></span></b></span></span></i></div>
<i><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></span></b></span></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b><span style="color: #073763;"> What is az?</span></b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">artist<b>/</b>zion~ az we sing and dance to Zion.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">(</span>It sounds silly but stranger things have been done in the name of art.<span style="font-size: x-large;">)</span></span></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">(</span>This will be done in the name of <i>Christ. </i></span></span>)</span></b><i><b><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></b></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">~az is a united community of <i><b>artists</b></i> that are sacredly devoted to following the
ways of Christ (Zion.) <i>We </i>support those who walk a difficult creative
journey through life.</span><br />
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<i><b>We ask real questions that lead to an empty and open path of simplicity.<span style="color: black;">(and yes we do use zen to trigger enlightenment.)</span></b></i></div>
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* az an artist will you vow to fight for the fallen?</div>
* az an artist will you bear witness of the light?<br />
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*az an artist do you confess that your creative gift is born of divine breath? <br />
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*az an artist if you rise taller than the trees will you stay rooted?<br />
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<i><b>Before and after every film i see the actor's name and character they are portraying. </b></i> <br />
<i><b>It always makes me think. If God has given me a role to play, then <span style="color: #0b5394;">who am i <span style="font-size: large;">starring as?</span></span></b></i><br />
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<b>Note:</b><br />
We will have the first gathering for <b>az </b>on Sunday, Feb. 9 @ 5pm<br />
It will be at our house.To take part you can reach out to me for the address.<br />
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<br />Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-3444095835886260742013-12-11T09:55:00.000-06:002013-12-11T22:50:22.340-06:00Christ in my Crisis.<div class="s2">
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<b style="background-color: #cc0000;">YOUR WORLD IN CRISIS.</b></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">Do you ever try to talk your way out of trouble? We have all had that conversation with </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">ourselves about a particular crisis in our lives</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">. We may say, </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">“</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">All</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> is right in my </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">world?”</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> But it feels silly to say that right? </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">No b</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">urdensome and worldly weight co</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">uld ever bog me</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> down. </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">Wait, that’s a lie that turns the corners of my mouth upward with a have hearted cynical smile</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">. With aggravation </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">I proclaim</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> to my creator</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">with a</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> confused</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> chatter. To the </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">top of my lungs I yell,"A </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">world with</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">out</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> crisis is </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">not </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">the real world I live in.</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">”</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> Okay, I know this. So why would I say such a ridiculous thing? I think it’s because my sometimes fragile </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">emotional life seems to wind up </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">broken and at the bottom of a</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> dark and lonely barrel. </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">I experienced this feeling just after my last post about four months ago</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">.</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15" style="color: #741b47;"><b>MIGHTY MASTER</b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">What have I learned these last few months? </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">I have found out that learning can be a hard and pushy process. It gets hard when the one who is doing all the pushing is the “ALL MIGHTY MASTER</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">.” </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">Being a lifelong </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">learning pupil who is placed</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> or divinely pushed to the front row of the</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> class</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> is very hard to come to grips with. The lessons </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">are always hard in</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> a class</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> called </span></span><span class="s4" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="bumpedFont15">Crisis 101.</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> And I didn't even sign up for this class. </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">I remain in a continual </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">battle with Christ over the seating c</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">hart in my classroom of one. I think to myself, "little old pitiful me." Am I that important to Christ? </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">And why does He always insist that I sit on the very front row? I beat my pencil on my desk of discontent. “What are you trying to do to me God?” I have turned a terminal green from the growing pains that He has</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> tried to plant</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> inside of</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> me. Christ</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> at times has become the "</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">Mr. Green</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> Finger" of my grounded life. He keeps pointing me with his luminous lightening rod of correction to </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">life’s lessons that I don’t want to learn. And guess what? Christ </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">w</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">ants to be close to me while I am</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> going through my growth spurt. </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">Imagine this.</span></span><span class="s4" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="bumpedFont15">“For</span></span><span class="s4" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="bumpedFont15"> the Love of Christ</span></span><span class="s4" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="bumpedFont15">!”</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> I scarcely shout from the back row</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">.</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> He stirs from behind</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> His divine desk of reason</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">. With</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> a </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">warm harmonious </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">voice</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> Christ</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> says,</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">“Yes Kyndl, </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">you need to stand up and go to the front row." So with heavy foot and heart I move for “</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">the Love of my Christ!</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">” </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">T</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">he love of Christ is boundless. So is His glorious red cape that adorns and covers us with compassion. </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">He is my SUPERNATURAL CHRIST. The one who is able to leap in a single bound</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> over</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> any crisis that I am going through.</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">I remember </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">back in the day when</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> I was in my early teens</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> and a</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> crisis</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> hit our happy</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> home. One day the family television stopped</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> working.</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">I fiddled </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">and </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">slapped on every button like some nervous train conductor trying to stop a runaway freight train.</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> In this case, I was trying to </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">stop the television</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> from crashin</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">g.</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> I </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">had no luck reviving that old thing</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">. I waited </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">anxiously</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> for dad</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">dy</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> to return home. As he walked in</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">to the living room I sat motionless in the lazy boy chair. I told him that the television had died. </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">“It’s a crisis”, I said.</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">He laughed at me and shook His head. He told me that it would be okay. <i><b>Only a true Father can say these words and make you believe it</b></i>. </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">Within a few days, a brand new Magnavox was sitting in our living room. The crisis was over. HMMM.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">Is your life on the fritz? Maybe the vision of your life is not quite what you pictured it to be. Circumstances start to scramble your sanity. The grinding of your overcooked grits leads you to languish in a life crisis. Then</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> there</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">comes the</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> one question that </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">always scares me.</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> I sat on the front r</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">ow</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> of the classroom</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> with a</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> disinterested, big eyed look of dismay. Christ with his kingly ruler in hand asks, “WHO AM I?” I hesitate with lips puckered tight</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> like </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">a lemon</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">hea</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">d who lamented over the sour and salty correction of Christ.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">I</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> know one thing that is</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> true about my time in a class called </span></span><span class="s4" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="bumpedFont15">Crisis 101</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">. I am ever learning from my own let downs in life and never satisfied with my feeble and pathetic human failures. </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">It is during</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> my ramped</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> up,</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> ritualistic self tormenting that I understand</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15"> who He i</span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">s. Christ </span></span><span class="s3"><span class="bumpedFont15">remains evident and eternal. He is </span></span><span class="s6" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><span class="bumpedFont15">“the Christ in</span></span><span class="s6" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><span class="bumpedFont15"> my</span></span><span class="s6" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><span class="bumpedFont15"> Crisis.”</span></span></span></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s6" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><span class="bumpedFont15" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I press on to write about my Life in Christ. These highs and lows are mine and yours. We live in “the fehrenheights.</span></span></blockquote>
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Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-58151164158039844132013-07-30T09:46:00.001-05:002013-07-30T21:40:03.950-05:00Betting on Black. <style><!--
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: red; font-family: Arial;"> IF YOUR BETTING ON
BLACK, LET LOVE WIN YOU OVER.</span></b></span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PLfBS2NGh0Q/Uega9BGFpWI/AAAAAAAABZk/sJN-1fHlB_4/s1600/dice-of-life.jpg"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><br /></span></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">DON'T
ROLL THE DICE OF DOOM! </span></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">I am not a gambler. When it comes to playing board games or even cards, my wife will tell you that I hate playing. Even the slot machines and all of it's flashing lights and
jingling tones aren't enough to tempt me into turning the handle on this money
gobbling monster. I remember talking to an avid gambler who told me that one of
the first things he noticed when he started pulling the handle down on the slot machines was the build up of
black powder on his hands. Thinking back on this conversation has led me to write about the months of build up over the Trayvon Martin case. I will pose one pointed question in my
argument for his defense. Are you betting on black?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">This question is a bit of a gamble,
but I am all in when it comes to the entire human race getting a fair shot at
life and justice. Some are up against great odds and this post will
center on how I feel about basic human rights for all. Does every person view human
rights equally? We all know the answer to this loaded question is no. I want to
take a closer look at the Trayvon
Martin case and talk about how I think some of the world views this case.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iYokmxfsugs/UegSOmY87KI/AAAAAAAABZY/wIDqp5YT9Ss/s1600/images-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iYokmxfsugs/UegSOmY87KI/AAAAAAAABZY/wIDqp5YT9Ss/s400/images-7.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 18pt;"><b>Is the face of Justice equal?</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Did George Zimmerman deserve a
fair and expedient trial to prove his innocence? Yes, he deserved a fair trial.
The same right that was afforded to him should be given to all people, right? Look at the circumstances that lead to the death of Trayvon Martin. Z, as I will call him, was a
neighborhood watch security guard who
took his job very seriously. On the night in question, Z went way beyond his
knowledge, experience and expertise. On this night he would be responsible for
taking the life of a black boy whom he had presumed guilty. Z bet on black and
Trayvon Martin paid with his life.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Trayvon</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> Martin had the same rights as Z on
his ill faded last night on earth but was never granted the rights that should
have been his from the very beginning. Trayvon
Martin had the right to be viewed innocent but instead, the house money was put
on his guilt. When Z was charged with murder, his defense attorneys came out of
the cracks to say, "what about our client's rights?" They were out to
prove that he had the right to shoot a child who was returning home to spend
family time with his parents. I have heard the audio tapes and it was clear
that Z never saw Trayvon Martin as just
a normal resident of the neighborhood and he never saw a boy who was enjoying
his walk back home with tea and skittles in his happy hands. Trayvon Martin's joyful walk back home did
not last long. He was about to be tried and convicted by a man who rolled the
dice on his guilt. Where was Trayvon's
rights? He lost them the moment he was tracked down by a licensed soon to be
killer who was about to shoot a line of craps on the innocent life of a young,
budding black man. Sure, Trayvon Martin
had his share of personal demons in the past, but on this night, none of that
mattered. All Z could see was black.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Now comes the question that I know
will anger some. What if Trayvon Martin
were white? It sickens me to the core when I see an all white jury that is so
readily able to identify with the defendant. One of my favorite movies of all
time is, “A time to Kill”, starring Matthew McConaughey.
It is about a black man who’s young daughter is raped by three white men. The
father takes justice into his own hands and kills the men just outside the
courtroom. The clincher was at the end during his closing arguments when Jake Brigance poses his heart opening summation to
the jurors. He describes the little black girl's body as being raped and broken
as she’s thrown over a bridge to the creek bottom. He asks, “Can you see her?" Brigance says," I
want you to picture that little girl. Now, imagine she’s white.” Right here is where his question shed light on the human perspective of a very dark and dreary time of the
film.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-761DiJjQE74/UffPDvT9joI/AAAAAAAABZ4/RlsXheDHHYI/s1600/One_race_human_eV.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-761DiJjQE74/UffPDvT9joI/AAAAAAAABZ4/RlsXheDHHYI/s400/One_race_human_eV.jpg" width="311" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b> <span style="background-color: purple;">ALL</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">In the Trayvon Martin case, Z overlooked the most
basic human right of ALL people. Your innocent until proven guilty. I believe
prosecutors had their shot at painting an accurate human picture of who Trayvon Martin was. Would it have mattered in
the courts of public opinion? Did it matter with the jurors? What I do know is
that all across America, some white people can’t relate to Trayvon Martin because they choose not to.
Privately, with an unrelenting racist tone they say, “that black boy is better off
dead anyway.” And whites are not the only ones dead in the red guilty of racial
prejudices. All cultures are guilty of judging others based on race, and now it
is becoming more deadly than ever to do so. Whether it’s Eric Holder, President
Obama or Rush Limbaugh, we all have to speak out against racial stigmas. Just
because a person is black doesn't mean their guilty. We are all apart of the
same human race and no one wins while “betting on black.”</span></span><br />
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Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-80277702903225735482013-06-30T15:24:00.001-05:002013-07-04T07:21:14.254-05:00I WANNA GET LIT.<b>Happy 4th of July!!! <span style="color: #990000;"> </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">i point my finger to the sky and look to His <span style="font-size: large;">LIGH<span style="font-size: large;">T.</span></span></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Being high on life is the only alternative for me. Living in a intoxicated state with mind altering narcotics has never been my thing. I had family members who fought the battle against drunken demons and I know what the face of addiction looks like. It is a face that is dimly distorted from the inability to cope with life and its challenges. But drugs and alcohol are not the only things we use to cover up the pain. The faces of power, sex and food are other disfigured images that we encounter everyday in our mirror of life. Addiction is a cunning camellia that slithers on its belly like a snake as it sneaks around the chicken coop looking for an egg to steal. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sometimes the darkest times in life were caused by discouragement. What kept me from staying down was my attitude about life and how it revolves around the people, places and things that pour a light of revelation into my being. Remember, attitude determines altitude. Darkness still finds a place to hide in the inward soul of us all, but when hit with the light of faith, the murky hiding places of evil shriek in fear and defeat. Are you ready to be drunk with the biggest inner light beer of your life?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Let's go have a party. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I imagine myself in a bright room surrounded with all of my friends. Every party goer is lit with happiness from head to their tune tapping toe. It is a spiritual shining where there are no walls and no over indulgence of debilitating vices. Those who enter my personal party space will have to leave their crutches at the door. Oh yea, and bring your Songlasses. There is a spiritual shining that will fill the room because we will be lit and living the dream. Let's dance!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What is your room filled with? My joy is found in the spirit and flight of the firefly who when present, will illuminate everything it touches. I am emboldened by those who's common allegiance is to light up their world. Darkness will not take hold my firefly friends. Even in the dark, with eyes closed, victory is found in the restful hours of sleep. For in rest, the dream is so sweet. I will not slumber with the wine of sorrow but will wake in the morning to take a drink of the divine cocktail of light. I will rise to live in the heights. I WANNA GET LIT.</span><br />
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Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-38089212307301110212013-06-11T08:24:00.000-05:002013-06-13T21:06:07.018-05:00THE BONDING BAG. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I dedicate this post to my new friends and EASTCAN.ORG. In our difficult time with Polar, they have carried us with compassion and class. These angels have literally turned Polar's heartworm hell into a healthy heaven on earth. </span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #990000;">CARRIED BY LOVE</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">The baby kangaroo clings to his
mother's warm protective pouch. With each day that passes, the closeness starts
to grow between the young hopper and his loving mother. She will faithfully take
him everywhere she goes as he lies resting, nestled in peace next to her
beating heart. They are linked by an enduring bond that last through all the
stormy and impetuous sand of times. The two will become one, held together,
forever. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">My son and little Butter Butt</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px;">This is a true story about butter
butt, a bag and a bond. In the past few weeks Polar, our Great Pyrenees, was
diagnosed with stage 2 heartworms</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px;">. We have been praying to God that BUTTER BUTT,
as my wife likes to call him, make a full and complete recovery. Polar's l</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px;">ife has always been quite simple. All that he has ever wanted to do was just
be with me. I bought Polar from a cock fighting, tobacco chewing mountain man
in the hills of Pegram, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px;">TN. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">At eight weeks old I began to carry
around this big puppy in a green, worn out army bag. I was told by the mountain
man that this would bring us closer. I didn't trust someone who had rooster
blood on his hands but I decided to try it anyway. When I went to the grocery
store,I carried puppy Polar along with me. Anywhere that I could get away with
it, I would carry Polar in this bag. I even thought about taking him to church
one time, but thank God I never tried that.</span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">In the middle of our male bonding, I
soon realized that everytime I started to leave the house he began to voice his
puppy displeasure over my leaving. It was my fault. I had made a mistake and created a little monster who suffered from separation anxiety. It was apparent
to me one day after I came home from work. Let's just say that Polar was in the
mood to surprise me with a little redecorating party. I opened the door of my
apartment to see scattered pieces of furniture and chewed up shoes everywhere.
After I surveyed all of the damage, I turned to look at the little shaggy white
mop with eyes. He was sitting ever so still in the dark corner of the room.
Polar new I was angry with him and he quickly streaked by me like a howling
snowball headed towards a scary ski slope. I followed him into the bedroom and
picked the screaming puppy up by the scruff of the neck. We stared into each
others eyes and I knew right then that I was headed for a heartbreak. </span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">As you can imagine, Polar got much
bigger and outgrew his bag. The bond that we share nine years later continues
to grow and having this dog has taught me what true friendship is all about.
Since I have been married, my wife has become very familiar with just what it
means to become bonded with a dog that loves you the way Polar does. Lately, I
have started thinking about some of the things that I look for when seeking a
person to bond with.</span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">I have to admit that I choose very
carefully when deciding whom I allow to get close to me. My mentor, Dr. Vernon
Brewer once said, "You have to earn the right to be heard."I live by
this teaching. I believe that words become a muddled mess if your life's work
doesn't speak loud and clear to me first. This seems to be true with everything
in life. When someone waves the flag of friendship to you, they need to
understand that building this bond in your honor will take many hard days of
work before the words start to bare fruit. But soon, the words "you are my
friend" become sweet music to your ears. </span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><b>Bonding...the Swan song of love.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Being a true friend means gaining
access to ones deepest and most intimate thoughts. It took me a while to
understand this and I'm still learning. Over the years I have been privileged
to have stayed in touch with some of my truest friends from college. I am
indeed a rich man. Friendship is like a rare jewel that deserve the utmost care
to retain its highest value. A connection with our most prized possessions is
better than locking them away in some safe deposit box. We use a busy life as
an excuse for not staying in touch with the people that God has given us to
care for. I will never be content with just living for a living.</span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">I am compelled to enrich the lives
of those who's bonding bag lies empty and bankrupt. </span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">In college, it seemed that I only
cared about popularity or how many times I got to eat in the cafeteria. I was
trying to find as many friends as I could but never really understanding what
being a friend was all about. For a while, I was shuffling on lonely street
like the old bag lady who was looking through the garbage heap. I would open my
bonding bag to whatever and whoever wanted to jump in. One day I just emptied
my bonding bag of the friends who only spoke a good game but would never join
me in running the race to win my heart. After a few wandering years, I decided
to take a hard look at what kind of person I wanted to become. </span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Every person has a desire to be
close to someone. Sadly, some will carry their bonding bag around for a
lifetime without it ever being filled.This lonely existence can wrap you
up in a plague of pain and ill will that pushes you farther away from the true
fellowship you need with others. Love is close. Be a friend and don't forget the bonding bag.</span></div>
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Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-15668817811831976872013-05-23T08:32:00.001-05:002013-05-24T12:35:28.921-05:00SINGING THE SOURPUSS BLUES<div style="text-align: left;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It has been said that "LIFE'S A STAGE." On my stage I have dedicated life and career to four unshakable and lasting things. I sing for the Father, my loving family, true friends and my loyal fans. And yes, I do have a few fans and I am thankful for each and every one of them. The world is constantly shifting and becoming increasingly unstable and lately we have been reminded just how precious life really is. I sing the praises of every person who through earth-shattering diversity somehow finds the will to dig their way out of trouble and fight for life. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How could I as an artist just stand by and watch as the world held out it's hurting hand. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have a major problem with those artists who seem to be oblivious to real life around them. They stink up the stage with a lack of respect for themselves and others. We have to change our direction and change our tune on music row. Some labels are forced to do damage control because their hedonistic hummingbirds continue to strike sour notes with the fan base. I am aware that not ever recording artist can be a role model but the real fans know when someone is "faking the funk on a nasty dunk." The pedestal of pride on which the arrogant and ungrateful artist stands will rot from the weight of being that self-inflated pig who has gotten fat from feeding off of their bloated ego.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">PRIDE ON A PEDESTAL</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <b>Let's do a little exercise. Imagine yourself being a different person than who you are right now. I did and I hated who I was. Here is what the song of a </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>"spoiled sourpuss" sounds like. (The language is sour too.)</b></span><br />
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<i>"My sourpuss song plays on and on, and so do I. The world is my toy and I don't wanna hear your cry for help, but continue to play a game of "twitter tag, your hit." Hey, and read my gossip, you know I'm the shit. What, leave all this? NO NO, I would have to sell that million dollar car and then catch a cab. I need to be toasted and then pay that thousand dollar beer tab. Walk away from this glam? Damn, I can't afford that. I would move down the Fortune Five Hundred list. If I lost that, I would be pissed. People, I can't afford to care, I am too busy getting my massage and
manicure. I need that dress from the fancy boutique, I can't wear my
heart on a sleeve. I can't be your awe-inspiring muse, I'm too busy</i> singing the sourpuss blues."</blockquote>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;"><b>YOUR LIFE, YOUR STAGE</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Living AZ God created me to be is a hard goal to reach. I strive on a daily basis to stay grounded while rising to whatever musical heights He has for me. Until I draw my last singing breath I will faithfully challenge myself and other artist to be responsible for the actions we take. Life is surely a stage and the fans are watching. Just Shut up and sing. Calling all sourpusses! "S</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">top complaining about the posh existence that the fans have graced you with." I call it "take the cheese and run mentality." Too many singers are strutting around the rat race, never taking a minute to realize the true value of what it means to shine. One of the very first songs I ever learned was "<i>this little light of mine</i>." Nowhere in this song does it talk about "this fancy car of mine or this big ring of mine." Undeniable talent will always outlast the fast, expensive car. The shine is nice but it won't last for long. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: magenta; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>THE CIRCUS MONKEY WITH A MICROPHONE</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fading from view is the circus monkey with a microphone who smashes it's symbols with a frantic attempt to serenade anyone who will listen. The f</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ans have gotten tired of the silly little routine from artists who tip toe around like bandits soaking up the spotlight while their "singing the sourpuss blues."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><u><b>REAL LIFE NEEDS REAL PEOPLE</b></u></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">shootings</span><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">~</span><span style="font-family: "Bernard MT Condensed";">economic</span><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Semibold";">crisis</span><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">~</span><span style="font-family: Braggadocio;">bombings</span><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">~tornadoes~ </span><span style="font-family: "Cambria Bold";">war</span><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">~</span><span style="font-family: "Chalkboard Bold";">violence</span><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">~</span><span style="font-family: "Bell MT";">hunger</span><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">~</span><span style="font-family: "Cooper Black";">rest</span><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">~</span><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS Bold";">love</span><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">~</span><span style="font-family: "Bernard MT Condensed";">heroes</span><span style="font-family: "Arial Black";">~teacher</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>(I love you Oklahoma)</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>wrap me in echoes of your tune </i></span></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>sweet is the rapid beat</i></span></b></span></div>
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<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">WHAT DOES A TRUE FAN OF REAL MUSIC EXPECT FROM</span></i></b><br />
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<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">LEAVE A </span></i></b><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">COMMENT.</span></i></b><br />
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<br />Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-6675494029589135742013-05-07T08:21:00.001-05:002013-05-08T08:58:32.476-05:00RAISED EXPECTATIONS.<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">YOUR DREAMS ARE ALIVE</span></b></div>
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Are you pregnant with great expectations? The pain is never easy when birthing the baby of your dreams. To get to the heights of your destiny, you always have to endure intense anguish before you experience a higher altitude of personal growth and purpose. In saying that, I dedicate this post to my sister Kristi(go ANGELITA AND TWINS), my beautiful wife Sjhira, who's birth was a miracle and to her wonderful mother Ms. Candy. You are ladies of great character and strength. In the early stages of conception and raised expectations, our dreams bring forth powerful feelings of ascension that cause the ground to shake beneath our feet. Movement brings giddy anticipation as the signs of life start to appear. But what happens to our dream when that little bundle of joy lies motionless and your bosom only seems bloated with doubt?<br />
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When my mother-in-law was pregnant with my wife, it proved to be a very difficult nine months for her. My wife told me that for the last five months of the pregnancy, her mother was confined to bed rest and her day to day activities came to a screeching halt. It was a daunting sacrifice that had to be done for her own well being and for the health of the baby inside her. The birth of my wife into the world was a miracle and a testimony of the bond that they share with each other to this day. So much joy abounds when the news comes that a baby is on the way. You shop to find all of the soft cuddly outfits and you paint the new baby room with the appropriate color. Then you have coffee with all your girlfriends to talk about how you feel and how often you feel the baby kick. The impending birth of your child has lifted your expectations to an all time high. Countless doctor appointments are made so that a person you barely know feels around on your stomach like someone doing a quality check on a melon at the produce section. My sister is now pregnant with twins and I am sure she feels life a watermelon right about now. Whoa! Imagine having to carry around not one but two babies. It came as a shock to her when she got the news but fear gave way to great expectations. I am proud of her for the courageous journey she is on and I can't wait to hold both babies in my arms. Her agonizing moment of pain and strife will bring forth the miracle of life.<br />
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Remember the episode on the Cosby Show where all the men somehow get pregnant from strange spores in the water supply? Even tho men are not blessed with the burden of carrying a child, men also experience the joy and agony of having raised expectations. For guys, birth pangs comes in all shapes and sizes. Unfortunately, a man's ego is tied to whatever career we have and how much money we make. Men spend a lifetime seeking out success and carrying the weight of "worry." Relief is only found when our child is brought into the world. Dreams are instilled in men from the very moment of birth. The momma will say, "You are my prince charming." The daddy will say to his son, "You are my little man and you will grow up to be big and strong." When we tell a child that they can win the world, we should always be prepared to sit back and watch them do that very thing. As a supportive parent we should hold our child's hand through the times of pain and growth. The world will be won and so will our hearts.<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">THE PROUD FATHER</span></b></div>
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Do dreams die when it takes longer for them to development? I remember those fun- days as a boy playing in my tree house. I didn't have a care in the world. It was easy for me to believe that dreams would come true. I was a dreamer who walked in the fluffy clouds of my fairytale destinations. I still live in the heights of that old tree house. I am gaining new heights with each step I take in life and everyday I gratefully carry my creative children of SONG, ART AND WORD. You are not barren of hope. You will deliver your dreams. The proud FATHER is watching over you and saying,<b><i>"You will grow up to be big and strong."</i> </b>LIVE WITH RAISED EXPECTATIONS.<br />
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<br />Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-76950591346224621272013-04-23T17:15:00.000-05:002013-04-23T17:17:38.421-05:00AN ONION SANDWICH- DEALING WITH THE DIET OF LIFE.<br />
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I don't have a taste for onions at all. YUCK! In the early years of my life my taste buds were jumping and I would eat just about anything. Then I met Mr. Onion. Momma tried her best to convince me that onions tasted good but she never won that argument. I hate them to this day. I remember hearing one story of a passenger on the Carnival Cruise ship who said they were forced to eat onion sandwiches to survive during their crisis as seas. If it came down to life or death, I would choose onion breath over having no breath at all. It got me to thinking about my own survival and how I deal with the problems of life.</div>
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I PRAY AND PEEL</div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>When life gives me an onion I pray and peel for hidden layers of growth and strength to deal with it.</b> </span></span></span></div>
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It is always easy to digest the good things of life when they come along. What happens when you come face to face when something that is not so appetizing? One day your cruising along with your tasty cuisine and the next your stomach is turning from the reality of life. Life can change in an instant. Let's use a pizza as an example. Your hungry so you decide to call a favorite pizza joint and order a supreme with everything on it. With excitement you begin to visualize that first mouth-watering bite and you just can't wait to sink your teeth into the perfect pizza. You hear a knock at the door and rush with money in hand. You take the box to the table where napkins and soda are carefully laid out. You open the box and jump back in disgust because you forgot to tell them to hold the ANCHOVIES. You hate anchovies. How do you deal with life when things seems perfect but then comes the surprise?</div>
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Dealing with the diet of life is full of surprises and the menu can be somewhat of a mystery. You never know when the onion sandwich will come your way and when the chewing begins it is always hard to swallow. The list of recipes are very familiar to all of us. The car broke down and it's a budget buster. Family is blind to your existence with no reunion in sight. to You get sick and stuck with medical bills. No promotion at work. The girl or guy of your dreams finally gives you the answer you didn't want to hear. The new business renders one dollar as it hangs in a picture frame collecting dust on your darkened wall of dreams. There is hope. <b>Let the feast begin.</b><br />
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There are many rocks on the road of life and feeding on a steady diet of disappointments only weakens my grip during that hard climb to my destiny. I have decided a long time ago to be a rock climber and not a slop diner. I refuse be found lying down, muddling through my slop of sorrow. You can all rise to become the climber that God intended us to be. Take your seat at the table. The <b>SUPERNATURAL CHEF </b>is waiting for you with apron on. He is ready to serve you a magnificent morsel that will raise you to HEIGHTS unknown. I will eat and enjoy the harvest of His blessings. No onions please.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;"> A FEAST ON HIGH</span></b></span></div>
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<br />Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-74616342436987935892013-04-11T10:55:00.001-05:002013-04-11T19:04:53.465-05:00LIVING IN THE iWORLD.<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Apple had a multinational movement back in the late 90's that came out with a
line of consumer electronics and software that would forever change our lives.
A hungry market was poised to devour every Apple product that was placed on
their plate. First on the menu was the production of the iMac in 1998. Then
came an entire host of individualistic products like the iPod, iLife, iSight,
iWork, iPad, iBook, iTunes and the forever popular iPhone. Apple’s philosophy
was simple in that the plan for success was built around catering to the wants
and desires of the individual. Since the late 90’s these products with the
small “i” have made a very big difference in how we work and live in the world.
In fact, I am writing this post by way of an iMac and on Friday I will be
taking my first bite into the biggest apple of them all, the iPhone. Apple is an example of a remarkable vision by one man and there has been much speculation on what the</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"> letter "i" really means. Some say it means internet,individual,intelligent or integrated. I say it stands for "inspiration." This is one case where the letter "i" has really changed the world for the better. Thank you Steve Jobs.</span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>THE GOOD APPLE </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The letter “i” is my
favorite letter in the alphabet. From this you get the word inspire which is
one of my favorite words<i>. </i>I often use the phrase “one look and I am inspired. Let’s
take children as an example. They inspire me all the time. It inspires me when
I see my son smile big after I have made a funny face at him. He loves the
attention. Sometimes I get lost in my own individual desires and forget to
notice him. It happened to me the other day at work. Have you ever played the
game castle ball? The objective is to throw a ball and knock down the other
teams castle that is made from six stacked hula hoops. While playing this fun
game with a crowded gym of third graders in the gym, a quiet little girl with
glasses walked up to me and asked, "Have you ever felt left out?" I
laughed so hard because she looked so lonely. I reached down to give her a hug
and told her how important she was to the team. She joined in on the fun and
stayed by my side the entire game. That inspired me. My greatest inspiration
comes from my momma’s desire to live a healthy life after triple bye-pass. She
warms my heart with every courageous
step she takes. Every wise word she speaks inspires me to be a <i><b>“man of meaning.”<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></b></i><span style="font-size: small;">and <span style="font-size: small;">today</span></span> I wanted to write a<span style="font-size: small;">bout <span style="font-size: small;">some t<span style="font-size: small;">hings that <span style="font-size: small;">have</span></span> spe<span style="font-size: small;">cial </span>mea<span style="font-size: small;">ni<span style="font-size: small;">ng to me.<span style="font-size: small;"> I have found that writ<span style="font-size: small;">ing an inspirational blog is a hard thing to do when y<span style="font-size: small;">ou try to stick to pos<span style="font-size: small;">itive con<span style="font-size: small;">tent. As a blogger I feel it is necessary to w<span style="font-size: small;">rite a<span style="font-size: small;">bout the truth no matter how insensitive and cold <span style="font-size: small;">it may appear to be.<span style="font-size: small;"> Momma told me that the world is not always about the w<span style="font-size: small;">arm and fu<span style="font-size: small;">zzies.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b> THE GOOD <span style="font-size: small;">i <span style="font-size: small;">C<span style="font-size: small;">HANGES THE WORLD</span></span></span></b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TEqT_nJSZJ4/UWYH7bYZmWI/AAAAAAAABKc/JdRwl5Mq14Y/s1600/images-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TEqT_nJSZJ4/UWYH7bYZmWI/AAAAAAAABKc/JdRwl5Mq14Y/s400/images-3.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I wanted to get to the core
of what I mean when I say that some people are <b>"Living in the
iWorld." </b>Many
have spent a lifetime building castles of success that are selfishly dedicated
to their own egotistical glory. Yes, we can be the greatest at whatever we do
and I am all for it. But when we are on the road to success at the cost of
family, friends or God, success is rendered meaningless. I believe that we are
living in the center of a sometimes uninspiring and individualistic place
called the <b><i>“</i></b><i><span style="font-size: small;">iWorld</span></i><b><i>.”</i></b> We see this <i><b>"i</b></i><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>Drama"</b></i> </span>being acted out right before our <span style="font-size: small;">very <span style="font-size: small;">eyes</span></span> like a soap opera on <i>“iSteroids</i>." We see it in everyone from the larger than life personality on the silver
screen to the average everyday person on self street. Today, the
world is about what "i" want. </span></span><br />
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</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">T<span style="font-size: small;">he und<span style="font-size: small;">erworld </span>has<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span>drug dealers who are o<span style="font-size: small;">n the<span style="font-size: small;">ir <b><i>"iH<span style="font-size: small;">ustle."</span></i></b></span></span> They maliciously peddle poison to a hoard of drug-hazed victims
while the users continue to search for the perfect <b>“<i>iHigh</i>.”</b> Are we tired of the
gun owners who deal metal machines of death for their on bloody <b><i>“iprofit</i>?”</b> The
heartless killers who buy them wind up using our children as human target
practice? Nothing seems to be changing. How about the latest victims who
blindly walked into the blade of a knife? It's just another dangerous day at
the school where some man who as a child dreamed of stabbing someone then acts on his dreadful <b>“<i>iHate</i>”</b> dream
twelve years later. It is just another day "living in the iWorld.<span style="font-size: small;">"</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qt8LWqoSS_I/UWc6eEZ7UnI/AAAAAAAABK8/FHpgGqWjKXM/s1600/images-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qt8LWqoSS_I/UWc6eEZ7UnI/AAAAAAAABK8/FHpgGqWjKXM/s400/images-6.jpg" width="293" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span> <span style="font-size: small;">How about our entertainers? They are in lofty positions of influence but all
they seem to do is piss it away for their own <i><b>“iprestige<span style="font-size: small;">.</span>"</b></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"> We buy their music, watch their
films and wear their clothes. In the entertainment world we are fed a constant
trickle on twitter of <span style="font-size: small;">individuals</span> who no longer wait for us to put them on that
pedestal but they instead proudly place themselves on top of the world and say,
"<b>I am King. I am Queen. </b><span style="font-size: small;">Crown me</span>!" <i><b>“<span style="font-size: small;">i</span>RULE</b>!” </i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">We cast our believing
ballot for that politician who we think will lead us to the promise land. Soon
we realize that the politicians have failed and slowly but brazenly they
transform the land of milk and honey promises into a cluttered wasteland of
<b>“<i>iLies</i>." </b>The "iWorld is filled with leaders who have a relentless appetite
for the fatted calf. <span style="font-size: small;">In the medical wo<span style="font-size: small;">rld, some </span>d</span>octors have padded their pockets and have forsaken their
God-given abilities. They have turned from their instruments of healing towards
a practice of hedonistic idolatry and<b> "<i>iCraft</i>.</b>" The Corporate America world compromises
it’s integrity for the next <i>“<b>iDeal</b></i><b>.”</b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The church world is seen
with the most unbelieving cynical <b>“<i>iDoubt</i>”</b> eyes. <span style="font-size: small;">We</span> should have men of God who
are leading the wayward flock but instead they have sold out the church for
power, sex and money. The church and its people are the one institution that
should be the most sacred of all. Those who need love, comfort and compassion
wind up walking away empty handed because some pastors and priest aren’t sheep.
They are <span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>"i</b></i><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>Wo</b></i><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>lves"</b></i> </span></span></span>dressed up<i><span style="font-size: small;"><b> </b></span></i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">in<span style="font-size: small;"> sheep's</span></span></span> clothing. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xmx8UG7gku8/UWbbG-vFq-I/AAAAAAAABKs/shyeGtubwGw/s1600/images-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="299" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xmx8UG7gku8/UWbbG-vFq-I/AAAAAAAABKs/shyeGtubwGw/s400/images-4.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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Years ago while valeting on
a rainy day I had a lady customer drop her cell phone in a drainage ditch. It
was about eight feet under the street. This phone would have surely been doomed
to a watery death. Thankfully, after about 25 minutes I somehow found a way to
reach down with a stick and pull her phone out. She climbed in her car and
wrote a note that has inspired me to this day. She wrote, "Thank you. You
have truly restored my faith in humanity." It was the greatest tip I had ever
received. Have you seen the "I
am second" campaign that has recently started<span style="font-size: small;">?</span> This Christian movement is
attempting to take "i" off of the center stage and place the
magnificent Messiah, the great "I AM" in His rightful first place. I
believe each person has the chance to change the world in some way. <b>My faith
still carries hope in the heart of humanity. </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;"> SHALL I FLEE AWAY TO BECOME A REFUGEE?</span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">YET I LOVE THIS LAND OF THE FREE </span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">THO DARK CLOUDS COVER THE DREAM</span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">STILL ANOTHER DAY TO TRY</span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">RESTORE EARTHS PEACE TO REIGN</span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">LIFT OTHERS UP AND TEAR DOWN THE WORLD OF I</span></b></span></span></div>
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<br />Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-91776878557232504362013-04-02T08:34:00.002-05:002013-04-02T22:57:01.458-05:00THE BIG WHITE DOG.<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364850539667_1794" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>POLAR AND HIS FAMILY</b></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xX5O6Bzp9Bg/UVoL8El1kCI/AAAAAAAABGw/T1oClL9tsc8/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xX5O6Bzp9Bg/UVoL8El1kCI/AAAAAAAABGw/T1oClL9tsc8/s400/-1.jpg" width="285" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As many of you know I have a Great Pyrenees
named Polar and my wife recently shared a story on Facebook about how our big fur ball of love reminded us of the Lord's love and sacrifice for us. On the Saturday morning before Easter my wife rescued Polar from an eight foot thorn branch that was attached to his back.(<i>Polar's hair and thorns below</i>) Imagine having to carry that around for a while. Because of this wonderful story it made sense to share with you one of my first writings. I hope you enjoy it.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rI20AuUc9rU/UVrcRryyXfI/AAAAAAAABHY/Kt00hZyz9ag/s1600/thorns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rI20AuUc9rU/UVrcRryyXfI/AAAAAAAABHY/Kt00hZyz9ag/s320/thorns.jpg" width="179" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364850539667_1794">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T0KxIDSNWYg/UVoPYUOwLMI/AAAAAAAABG4/hjWWfswD6oU/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T0KxIDSNWYg/UVoPYUOwLMI/AAAAAAAABG4/hjWWfswD6oU/s1600/images.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was inspired to name this bear of a dog from the Christmas commercial where
the big polar bears are drinking Coca Cola and sliding down the snow hill. This stunningly beautiful dog has two <span id="yiv307745016misspell-1"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364850539667_1986">noticeable</span></span>
attributes. He has a thick white coat and a huge majestic head. The
first time I saw him, he stood head and shoulders above the other
puppies. He was the pick of the litter. Anytime I take him out in
public, he is almost always the center of attention.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> In Jack Trout's book<b><i>
"Differentiate or Die."</i></b> he states that in order for a company to
survive and be successful it must accent the characteristics of their product. By being
different, this allows the company to separate itself from the
other competition. What does the term "being different" really mean
and does it even matter?</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Let's look at this from the human perspective. There is more than
meets the eye when it comes to what makes a person stand out from the
rest. If you desire to <span id="yiv307745016misspell-0">separate</span>
yourself in this roughly contested marketplace of life or business then you will need a positive <i>ATTITUDE. </i>You need to believe in who you are. Attitude determines Altitude. If you have a desire to be a leader and you want others to stand up and take notice, then you will have to become<b><i>"the big white dog."</i></b></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xCMktzUTjGk/UVoRhgs8ICI/AAAAAAAABHA/J4ej4f-uRrw/s1600/images-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xCMktzUTjGk/UVoRhgs8ICI/AAAAAAAABHA/J4ej4f-uRrw/s400/images-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Just like the dog who leads the pack, a person's vision is most
important when determining the journey for those who will follow. The day
I picked Polar up, the other puppies were gathered around him like little
chicks to a mother hen. When I set foot in his yard, he knew that I was
there. He had
excellent vision and nothing escaped his watchful eye. </span>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Frozen in time is the story of a <span id="yiv307745016misspell-1"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364850539667_1994">lovable</span></span> loser named <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1364850553_0">Charlie Brown</span>.
He was a reluctant leader who failed at almost everything he did. But
Charlie Brown had <i><b>vision.</b></i> Upon picking a small and pitiful tree for the
school Nativity play, all of Charlie's friends began to poke fun at his
seemingly foolish choice. With excitement, Charlie attempts to hang a
bulb on the small branch, but the weight of the ornament is too heavy
and the tree slowly droops over to the side. Later, Charlie's friends realize
their insensitivity and come to his rescue. With Charlie Brown feeling down
on himself, Linus gently places his security blanket around the runt of a
tree. The tree is then decorated to perfection.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> SAINTLY SHADOW</span></span></b></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uD3eS2EifAk/UVoZgBJFWUI/AAAAAAAABHM/Ja667WPH9fw/s1600/ozarks-jesus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uD3eS2EifAk/UVoZgBJFWUI/AAAAAAAABHM/Ja667WPH9fw/s400/ozarks-jesus.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> I depend on vision and
attitude with everything that I do and I love how the Lord is always there to offer that blanket of security whenever I don't feel so sure of myself. In the most simple of terms, <i>He's got me covered</i>. When I walk into a room I am
confident in who the Lord has made me to be. How I look, what I say and what
I do is all under the direction of the Lord's presence. When it comes to <i><b>presence</b></i>, Jesus is my prime example of what that <span id="yiv307745016misspell-2">truly</span> means.</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Presence is the most important attribute that any leader can <span id="yiv307745016misspell-3"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1364850539667_1996">possess</span></span>. Jesus cast a big spirit shadow of self-assurance that lit up every room that He entered. He was "the big white dog."</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Many non- believers said that Jesus wasn't
born to the proper linage and that He didn't have all of the right credentials. But you can be sure that when Jesus walked into a room,
all eyes were cast on His royal presence.</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Don't be afraid to
live life with your own personal style and flare. You are royal and you can stand up and stand out with a saintly
presence, casting a spirit shadow on those who need a leader. You can be "THE BIG WHITE DOG."</span></div>
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Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-49979582070653777882013-03-28T09:39:00.003-05:002013-03-28T09:58:19.537-05:00A SONDAY SONRISE<div style="text-align: left;">
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<b>HEAVENLY HEIGHTS</b></div>
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<b><i>SONDAY WE WILL RISE TO HEAVENLY HEIGHTS</i></b></div>
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<b><i>THE SON WILL COME TO WAKE US</i></b></div>
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<b><i>ON SONDAY, THIS HIS TIME TO SHINE</i></b></div>
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<b><i>SONDAY WE IN JOY WILL CELEBRATE </i></b></div>
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<b><i>TO SING GLORY- SUN WATER SKY EARTH</i></b><br />
<b><i> CHILDREN LIFT HIM HIGH, THEIR PRAISE TO LEVITATE</i></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-large;">SONDAY IS A SPECIAL DAY THAT CHRISTIANS CELEBRATE JESUS AND HIS RESURRECTION. WE GO TO CHURCH,SING SONGS AND THEN WE FEAST. ENJOY!</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">ignite. arise to new heights.</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> RISE AND WORSHIP THE </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">MAKE EACH DAY <b>A SONDAY SONRISE</b>.</span><br />
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<b><i>your writer of HEIGHTS,</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Kyndl</i></b></div>
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<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">FEEL FREE TO LEAVE COMMENT AND THANK YOU FOR READING</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">the fehrenheights</span>.</b></i></div>
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Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-686555047030141462013-03-24T17:51:00.000-05:002013-03-26T16:41:12.818-05:00HE DOESN'T SEE YOUR STAINS.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>MY SELF-WORTH CANNOT BE TAKEN AT FACE VALUE</i></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Who I am today is a reflection of how I was raised and how my childhood experiences taught me to take delight in the different flaws that make people who they are. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are all swimming in a mud hole of stains, splashing around in abnormal patterns that morph us into magical works of strange but attractive beings. <i><b>Do we sometimes have trouble getting bogged down in the mire of misperception?<a name='more'></a> </b></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">DIP INTO LIFE</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>(the humming bird)</b></span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b style="background-color: #3d85c6;">~PAINTED by KYNDL AND JP~</b></span></i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>*i sing in my imperfect flight with broken wing and the sun shines on all that I am*</b></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QcqKaEMBvCw/UU3yRM6xvWI/AAAAAAAAA_0/Rr7YV-DA8XQ/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QcqKaEMBvCw/UU3yRM6xvWI/AAAAAAAAA_0/Rr7YV-DA8XQ/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A dip into the messy side of life is not always a bad thing. My playground as a child was a mud hole swamp that was located just behind our little house on the hill. Just picture your ideal "secret garden" separate from the entire world. This was my secret swamp garden, <i>a fantasy land of dramatic foliage with colors of green glow in the dark ivy and tall cattail weeds that stood on watch, guarding my fairy tale hideaway</i>. I saw this place as my haven and the protector of my imagination. Those cattails had a striking resemblance to big, brown corn dogs on a stick and after an exhaustive day of play, it was getting close to dinner time and this image made me even hungrier. My favorite thing to do at the mud hole swamp was to go diving in the shallow water for tadpoles. Those slick suckers were so fast and hard to catch. One thing I remember about those days was the sound of the frogs singing, ribbiting with a rising chorus of <i>"catch me if you can." </i>But I was the one who would eventually get caught. My momma was never that happy when I walked in the house with a pocket full of tad poles and dirty clothes that were covered with red Mississippi mud. She said, "You been been swimmin in that dirty swamp again ain't you?" The <i style="font-weight: bold;">stains </i>on my clothes<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>from that mud<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>seemed to never wash out but I learned to overlook the stains and so did momma.</span><br />
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<b style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">YOUR STORY, YOUR STAINS.</span></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>The beautiful copper urn above is covered with magnificent stains. It is an image from David Maisel's picture project. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">(click the link to read his story)</span> </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><i style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.davidmaisel.com/works/lod.asp" style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; text-decoration: underline;">Library of Dust</a></span></i></span></div>
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<i><u><b>I believe that we are not defined by our STAINS, but only by<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> how we choose to view them.</span></b></u></i> </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> My positive view of life has taken me to the heights of joy even when I feel the lows of my very human and imperfect existence. Everyone has their own spotted story of overcoming faulty views of perfection. God loved man from the moment He scooped up the dust to form us. He still loves us even when we struggle and muddle through life. He doesn't see the stains. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'All knowledge is enveloped in darkness. What we <b><i>perceive</i></b> are no more than isolated lights in the abyss of ignorance, in the shadow-filled edifice of the world. We study the order of things ... but we cannot grasp their <b><i>innermost</i></b> essence.'</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 10px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;"><b> by WG Sebald</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>"Keep your feet on the ground and your thoughts on lofty HEIGHTS"</b></span></span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Please feel free to leave a comment on this post.</i></span></b></div>
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Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-8804842189479126282013-03-17T19:06:00.001-05:002013-03-18T11:21:45.804-05:00PEACE SLAYS THE DIRTY BIRD<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">THE PATH OF PEACE</span></b></div>
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<b><i>(the white poodle in the back with the red glasses is chillin)</i></b></div>
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When you're scooting along the highway and you turn down a rocky road, I hope this post will encourage you to flip to the positive and travel back down the path of peace. Thanks to Linda for allowing me to snap this quick pic for the post. She is a member of SCOOTNASHVILLE.COM. This is her slick scooter called the <i>Auto Moto.</i> Isn't the future of driving mind blowing?<br />
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DIRTY BIRDS are flying out from every hand and are being shot like arrows of indignation. The speedy and bothersome target is YOU!!! Some modern day drivers seem to be meaner than ever and those of us on that tame end of the driving spectrum should be on the look out for those fast flying middle fingers that will be pointed in your direction without a moments notice. There are many people who will not think twice when it comes to showing you how they feel about you and your driving. Flippin the bird is the most preferred way to show your aggravation for other drivers and I am noticing it on a regular basis. The only way to slay this dirty bird is to arm yourself with the silver bullet of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><b>PEACE.</b></span><br />
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<b>CAST A SHADOW OF PEACE WHEREVER YOU ROLL!</b></div>
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Everyday we are driving along, trying to do whatever we need to get done. When progress seems to be impeded this will lead to putting the petal to the metal. Humility and respect are out the door. When you have congested and chaotic roadways, it is only a matter of time before road rage shows it's ugly head. A police officer friend of mine said that the term"road rage"is a name given by the media. He explained that if you flip someone off while driving your car, you could be charged with anything from assault to vehicular assault or reckless driving. Giving "the finger" would be considered an obscene act and/ or a provoking act that could ignite a road rage incident. In simple terms, if you flip someone off, it could be so distracting to the other driver to the point that anger ensues and retaliation is then sought out by the other driver against you. </div>
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Here is my question. Is it worth risking bodily injury when you get pissed off by a driver and then decide to flip them off? It shows a certain cowardice and child-like attitude when a person thinks this will somehow make them feel better. I believe it goes much deeper than simply driving. It is about the person who becomes so bogged down in their own selfish world that they get offended by the least bit of inconvenience. Is it so inconvenient that we have to compound the problem by being hellbent on vehicular vengeance? I have had moments where I felt like I was being held back from moving forward in life and driving only multiplied my frustrations.<br />
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Just two months ago, with my son in the car, I was driving on a rainy night and didn't see a pedestrian walking across the street. I rolled down my window to apologize but that didn't stop the guy from using some strategically placed expletives. His weapon of choice was the middle finger, as he flung it out like a hand grenade of explosive rage. Being one to not back down from a good fight, I got out of the car and chased him away, cursing and yelling at him with rapid retaliation. I didn't know that in the process of getting out, my cell phone had dropped out of my lap into the dark, rainy streets. Thirty minutes later I realized my phone was missing and realized what had happened. I just knew that my phone was surely crushed by a car or ruined by the heavy falling rain. I also knew there was a ringing truth in my conscious that told me I was the prideful pupil who needed to learn a hard lesson. As I returned from dropping my son off, I rushed back to the scene of the crime and lying on the wet pavement between all of the moving cars was my phone. It wasn't broken to bits and it was dry as a bone. I know this was a direct call of peace telling me that I needed to be slowed down from anger and I had to see that when I am driving, the whole world doesn't revolve around me.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uDHHGwsWc7c/UUZL8TupQfI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/t1CWZjaVYLA/s1600/stock-photo-20768850-two-thumbs-up-with-watercolor-hearts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="287" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uDHHGwsWc7c/UUZL8TupQfI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/t1CWZjaVYLA/s400/stock-photo-20768850-two-thumbs-up-with-watercolor-hearts.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;"><b style="background-color: white;">JOY</b></span> AND <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">POSITIVITY</span></b></div>
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I take the two thumbs up approach to <b>driving</b> and <b>life</b>. I alone am responsible for how I react when confronted with the angry hand of a driver. I look at it this way. This person is either in a momentary lapse of discontent over my driving or travels through a continual hula hoop of cranky and complex turns on the road of life. Next time you are faced with the dirty bird driver, flip to the positive side of the road and give them two thumbs up. It can speak a very loud and clear message that resting on your seat of peace is a loaded double barrel shotgun of joy and positivity.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #6aa84f;">LEAVE A COMMENT AND TELL ME WHAT YOU DO WHEN YOU GET THE DIRTY BIRD.</span></div>
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Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-37579795859760027432013-03-10T17:01:00.001-05:002013-03-10T17:03:56.758-05:00POUR ME A CUP<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NYa7Rpv0aVo/UTzvtZc8--I/AAAAAAAAA6Y/tVE8mJS6i7Q/s1600/Match-Sticks-cup...superb-creativity....jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NYa7Rpv0aVo/UTzvtZc8--I/AAAAAAAAA6Y/tVE8mJS6i7Q/s400/Match-Sticks-cup...superb-creativity....jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>IGNITE YOUR THIRST</b></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mixing up different fruits and juices is a new interest of
mine. I like trying to invent a new taste that moves me to an even greater
fruity sensation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ask myself,
“What could I possibly blend together that would create the perfect drink?”
I<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>may never find it, but at least
I can keep trying. Pushing my creative juices to the limit quenches my thirst
even more. I thirst for creativity from every angle of my life and I try to
look at things from a different perspective. I don’t even consider the way I think
to be outside the box because I avoid trying to place my thoughts anywhere near
a box. It has something to do with feeling trapped I guess. To have my mind
hemmed up by a chamber of claustrophobic limitations scares me more than just a
little. I choose to move my being beyond the box of conformity.</span><br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the art world, one of the best examples of a person who
created outside the lines of conformity was Pablo Picasso. He pioneered a form
of art called Cubism and it has been widely considered the greatest influential
art movement of the 20<sup>th</sup> century. The idea behind this form dealt
with Picasso looking at his brush strokes from a multi-dimensional aspect and
not just from one viewpoint. Cubism would enhance the context of what was being
expressed. Picasso created a new way to look at the objects that he painted and
this influenced similar movements in music, literature and architecture.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bDxFOf6_IJQ/UTzuQrbstbI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/I4gvdQ1N-rA/s1600/friendship-1908.jpg!Blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bDxFOf6_IJQ/UTzuQrbstbI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/I4gvdQ1N-rA/s400/friendship-1908.jpg!Blog.jpg" width="260" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>PICASSO'S "FRIENDSHIP"</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There have been days when my life was just too overwhelming and I drank from a chalice filled with dry dust. The only friend I had was the creative mind that God gave me and it was buried by a troubled life. The bitter taste of this colorless cocktail
caused my imagination to melt away like an ice sculpture held over a fire. The
smoke covered glasses I was wearing only created a blind spot that covered my
real creative potential. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Almost everything we see has the potential of becoming more
than what is visible. My own personal creative mantra states it the best way
possible. It says, “one look and I am inspired.” At the risk of sounding
idealistic, I believe that we all have the vision to go beyond our everyday
experiences. One simple look can transport you to new and insightful concepts
and open your world up to the creative caverns of the mind. We can
instinctively start to choose from the pastel and polka dotted visions and lay
down the colors that will become the object of affection for those who see it.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">RUN FROM THE BOX</span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let us celebrate the
power of our imagination and watch as the muscles of the mind start to bulge, ready to
rip into action and take on any artistic challenge with flare. I will run from the creative crisis, from that confining box that leaves me sucking air through a straw in hopes that I will taste that thick sweet molasses. Instead, I will make a toast to all of the many creative juices that overflow within me. I will <b><i>rise</i></b> and pour me a cup of creativity.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">NOTE: PLEASE FEEL FREE TO LEAVE A COMMENT.</span><br />
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<!--EndFragment-->Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-67495611693158799252013-03-03T14:35:00.000-06:002013-03-03T15:55:38.623-06:00FOR ALL MANKIND<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><b>I feel at rest when I uplift someone else.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(this is my favorite post to date. I couldn't wait to write it.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Sunday
February the 10<sup>th </sup>I was presented with the priceless gift of rest.
It was the most important birthday gift I had ever received. The package was
carefully and appropriately delivered on Sunday, the day of rest. It came
wrapped with a direct message of how much God desired for me to remain in His
love. This gift was given to me as a reminder that I can be held in that sacred
and quiet still as I float to tranquil and uncharted heights. I wish to lie
suspended in the solitude of rest if only for a moment. I wish this <b><i>FOR ALL
MANKIND.</i></b></span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><b>RESTING FROM FLIGHT</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Most of us
are busy doing something every minute of the day and taking a moment to rest
can feel like a waste of our time. I like what the Free Dictionary gives for a
definition of what it means to rest. It offers a simple phrase. </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: 14pt;"><b><i>“Stop doing anything for a
time.” </i></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">Wait a
second. Does anything mean everything? Really! How are we able to stop all
things in order to rest our mind, body and spirit? This is a hard one for me,
especially from the mental side of things. My overactive brain is clicking on
all cylinders, at all times and it drives me to temporary insanity. I often
share that my all time favorite way to combat the craziness of the world is to
head for the bathroom for some Bathtub Theology. It is my constant go to when I
need to be rescued from the ruckus of a duty-filled life. When things get
messy, that’s when a hot serene soak gets me clean from the inside of my
pounding head to the bottom of my tight rope walking toes. During the footsteps
through life my troubled toes have gotten stumped quite often from not taking
that much needed time to lay it all down and just rest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagine the
empty and dark view from God’s eyes as He dealt with the burden of being the
“creator of all things.” For six event-filled days God felt the weight of His
inspirational work as He created something from nothing by simply speaking the
universe into existence. Then on the seventh day…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>IN
THIS VOID I STAND, I MOVE AND BREATHE. <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>INSPIRED
TO SPEAK AND THEN I SEE.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>A
GOLDEN DAWN IS CAST ANEW<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>BID
ME PEACE TO RISE AND MEET<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>I
THIRST AND LONG FOR MY FIRST DEW<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>I
LAY TO LOOK ON EARTH FROM HEAVEN<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 14pt;">MY
TIME TO REST ON THIS DAY SEVEN</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>CREATED BY LOVE, TO LOVE.</b></span></span></span></div>
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How could I write anything unique about love</span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">that hasn't already been written?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> If you know me at all then you understand that I am a man who likes to go beyond the boundaries of creativity. Here is a top ten I created on "love having no limit." I wish you much LOVE on Valentine's Day.<a name='more'></a></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">10. Love is most beautiful when hate rears it's ugly head.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">9. A man or woman's love is transparent and race is invisible to the heart.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">8. I heard some say love stinks. No, love<b> sticks</b>... tiny, sticky, peanut butter and jelly fingers touching your face. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">7. Love's true knock comes by opening the door to loving yourself first.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6. T<b>he kid in you</b>.(do this for the person you love) Find out what their favorite toy was as a child and surprise them with it. Write a note that says, "i love the kid in you!"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5. Love and forgive your neighbor and then offer to cut his grass.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4 Cook your favorite five coarse meal in the whole world and include dessert. Wrap it up and go give it to a homeless person.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. Spoil Spot-Lavish Leo. Your dog or cat loves and enjoys your company. Your time with</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">them is short so take advantage of every minute with your furry fidos and felines. I do.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. My parents are my<b> HEROES. </b>My dad is Superman and my mom is Wonder Woman. Love them as such.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. Take off running with an unbridled joy into the arms of God and know that your proud poppa beamed with joy on the day you were born. He loves you with no limit. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>note: feel free to leave a comment. What is on your list of love?</b></span></div>
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Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-80943159659247211612013-02-10T18:18:00.000-06:002013-02-11T10:35:36.209-06:00NAKED TOWER JUMP<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: white;">A HERO!</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">From 24 miles far above the earth, Austrian skydiver Felix Baumgartner anxiously awaited his moment of greatness. With one jubilant jump he was about to set the world
record for the highest dive from space. At these lofty heights he was the first
person to break the sound barrier at a supersonic speed of 833 mph. Right before his brave bolt into the
history books, the daredevil stood tall atop his helium filled balloon and
stated, “I know the whole world is watching now, and I
wish the world could see what I see.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have you
ever jumped from so high up that you didn’t know when you would hit the ground?
For me, one particular brainless stunt comes to mind. In the summer of
1993 I was chosen to work at a sports
camp for kids in the Ozark mountains. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">I had never
experienced what the great outdoors was all about so I was looking forward to the trip. The entire week was an amazing time of peace and personal growth in my spiritual life. It started with a time of crazy fun with the kids and ended with one simple task of crazy faith. I had to JUMP.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was an unspoken tradition that on the last morning of camp the first time counselors had to jump into the freezing river that stood on the outskirts of camp. We had to do this with no questions asked. I thought to myself, "that sounds easy enough." In the early dark hours of the last morning there was a loud knock at the door. Without warning I was quietly taken away with the other counselors and we started the brisk walk down the rocky hill towards the river. As I looked across the river,I felt the water moving with a cold and eerie calm. I had no clue what was going to happen next. As we stood by the river bank, one of the guys pointed up to a tall tower that sat just over the water. Surely we would not be expected to jump down from a tower that was nearly 75 feet above the water? We were told to take off all of our clothes and get a jumping partner. In the pitch black morning air, we stripped off our clothes and chose our jumping partner. I was</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;"> about to get a lesson on what it truly meant to be one with nature. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">I had to JUMP. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">To this day I don't remember who my jumping partner was. The one thing I do remember about the jump is the slow and stressful CLIMB to </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;">the very top of the tower. When I finally reached the top of the tower I looked down into the endless dark and asked myself one question. Where was the water?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">Down we went, fearfully falling, headed on a collision course with the stillness that awaited below. During the descent, my</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;"> legs floundered like two flimsy boat paddles with no sense of direction.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;"> </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;">I can't say that I saw some great vision as I stood with my toes dangling over the edge of the tower. With the human eye the only thing I could see was trouble, but the one thing I had to rely on was </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">blind faith that all of my body parts would be okay after impact. My partner and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">I landed in the water with a splendid splat and quickly swam back to the safety of dry land. I talked with someone just the other day who said she remembers jumping off the top of her barn as a child. I'm sure the anticipation of hitting the ground was almost more than she could bare. I knew what she meant. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>FAITH LIKE A CHILD</b></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">There is always a certain child-like innocence that is needed when we are faced with our time to climb to new heights. I miss that young child who would always jump first and ask questions later. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">When we have to jump into life it's only natural to look for that safe,soft landing spot. Is there someone out there that you would love to ask out on a date? JUMP! What about that new business you've been wanting to start? JUMP! Don't worry about what you can't see or what you don't have. The world is watching and ready to hear your stories of faith and wonder. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">Carry no ring, no robe and no sandals. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">Jesus will be your jumping partner as you brace yourself to experience the view of a lifetime on your </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;">NAKED TOWER JUMP.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 19px;"><i><b>note: Please feel free to leave a comment and tell me about your big jump.</b></i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The
Redwood Sequoia is the World's tallest tree species that grows to be around 379
feet. I have never seen one in person but would love to cast my eyes on this
botanical beauty. Hmm. What's
the chance they would let me climb it. As I started writing this post I got to
thinking about what it means to climb and so I asked myself this question. Is
there an even loftier HEIGHT I can attain that will surpass mere mortal
success? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
believe that each and every person is planted on earth for a specific purpose. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now whether or not we follow through is our choice. If we are only spending our time toiling for self-gratification and personal
gain, this will eventually prove fruitless. Am I saying that riches and success
are completely futile? Actually, I’m saying just the opposite. I think when you
have more money and success this allows you to help many more people.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This
brings me back to the whole "planted" thing. We all know from science
class that we need air, food and water to exist and that all trees contribute
life-giving H20. Now imagine for just a moment how this would relate to you as
a human being. If you were precisely planted on earth by God couldn't He also
raise you UP to a place of high purpose? What if that purpose happened to be
attached to fame and fortune? When I was growing up in Mississippi, it was hard for me to understand how I could be raised up for greatness. I had a tough enough time
raising myself up out of bed every morning. I was so wrapped up in counting all
of my limitations that I wasn't counting on the one thing that was
unseen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #6aa84f; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Don't forget about your ROOTS!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you
remember on my very first post I mentioned the concept of <b>AZ</b>.(artist/zen) This
is an inner discipline that I began developing years ago and it is centered
around four elements called the <b>Tetred</b>. They are God, family, friends and art. It is
built on simple precepts that deal with being who God made you to be and to
live AZ yourself. I sought simplicity in the midst of a complex world called
the entertainment industry. Because I was planted in the industry world I also
had a heart for those who struggled in it. Entertainers can have a perceived
perfection as we create a faulty illusion that is separate from who we really
are. Singers, actors, athletes, writers and everyday people fall under the
pressure of trying to be someone other than who God planted them to be. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sky is the limit on
who we can be and how high we can go</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">... and to think it all started from the ground. <b> </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>UPWARD</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: ArialMT;">When I
was around twelve years old I had a dream that I took off flying over the
treetops. To this day, it is the sweetest feeling of freedom I have ever
experienced. The trees were lit up as I drifted farther away from the ground.
The sky that was once filled with a silent darkness was now shining from
a luminous glow. With a graceful motion and angelic-like gravity I began
to float and was lifted higher towards an unknown destiny. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: ArialMT;">When
you reach beyond your anguished grip to a higher place and find yourself
down, remember that you have been planted for a purpose. You are rooted
and pointing upward. You are <b><i>taller than the trees</i></b></span><span style="font-family: ArialMT;">.</span><span style="font-family: Times-Roman;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: ArialMT;">NOTE: Feel free to leave a comment.</span></div>
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<br />Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-91314876955132144822013-01-27T17:07:00.001-06:002013-01-28T18:52:40.200-06:00BULLSEYE!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 24px;">The other day I was reading about the origin of the word "bullseye." Centuries ago the English longbow yeomen would often congregate after church in the hamlet and have target practice. The target was said to be the white skull of a bull. If you could hit the center of the "bulls eye" then you were considered to have the greatest skill as a marksman. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 24px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b> THE CROSSHAIRS</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 24px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Do you know what it feels like to have a bullseye on your back? I have been the unwilling target of an adversary so deadly that it had managed to turn,topple and twist my life into every possible direction. The name of this worthy adversary is..</span></i></span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">STRESS</span></b></div>
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<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-size: large;">(BLOWING YOUR TOP)</span></b></i></div>
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Have you ever heard the expression "too blessed to be stressed?" I'm sure the originator of this thoughtful saying meant well. In the real world this simply isn't true. The human race is unbelievably blessed with more than we could imagine. In the same breath I would also say that the world is filled with those who are stressed beyond description. I have blown my top and crippled my cranium with a gnawing negativity and biting sarcasm that was aimed at myself for the inability to handle my own stress. I had so much in my head and didn't know how to deal with it. I will admit that I fall into the head crammer category and I'm not alone. The world is filled with "crammers." We cram when we eat and we cram things in the closet. We even cram food in our mouths. Inhabiting our brain is an unhealthy build-up of negative things that begins to grow and force its way into daily existence. The result is useless white noise and a static filled ball of stress.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><u>"It's not stress that kills us, it is our reaction to it."</u></b></span></div>
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<b>Hans Selye</b></div>
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<b style="background-color: yellow;">DESSERTS</b></div>
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How do we handle stress? I can name a few ways we cope. We get negative, we get depressed or we eat. You do know that S-T-R-E-S-S-E-D spelled backwards is DESSERTS. I know what you're thinking. This is the sweet answer that you've been looking for. If it were that easy I would keep my fridge stocked with sugary delights that would pop my palate and leave me with delusional sensations of glorious grandeur. If we can't eat our way out of our stress, let's try the timeless tactic of running away from our problems. This was how I tried to tame the tide when it came to dealing with life. Stress for me as a kid was wretched. I would cut and run for the hills when there were any signs of trouble. I was overcome with so much fear as a youngster that even when I tried to run I couldn't get very far. Stress had weighed me down to the point of feeling helpless. What was the answer for me?</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">NO TIME TO BE TIMID!!!</span></div>
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Run for your life. Really? Where are we going when we're faced with a stressful situation and our feet start stepping with a frenzied, petrified pace. I can only tell you how I survived in my own outrageous arena of life. The first part of my life was spent staying on the sideline and being swept up by stressful conditions at home,church and school. Finally, at the swashbuckling age of twenty-two I began to come out of hiding and was determined to venture head long into whatever would come my way regardless of how much it hurt. I had to join the fight for the life I wanted. I was charged and my faith had been activated. To my surprise I started to feel even more stress showering down on me. It felt like heavy raindrops filled with knives that cut to the quick every shred of confidence that I desperately hung on to.<br />
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Fifteen years after my summons to the battlefield of life I am glad I answered the call. I am no longer a matador in mourning but a determined fighter who knows that troubled times are on the rise. The heavy winds are sure to blow and when they do, it only moves me atop a launching point called hope. So when tomorrow gets tough, you can get tough too. Whenever stress makes you the unwilling target, do what I did and hit that charging bull right between the eyes. Take your best shot at life.<br />
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<b style="background-color: #3d85c6;">note: feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think of the question I posed in Bathtub Theology section.</b></div>
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<br />Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-63544738321763432412013-01-19T15:05:00.000-06:002013-01-27T18:36:28.220-06:00He loves me...He loves me not?(The Ugly Truth)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The word <b><i>ugly</i></b> was first used in popular English Literature sometime before 1050. My grandmother used the word all the time when she caught me being too mean to people. Standing at about five feet tall, she walked up to me and said with a small, shaky voice,"now baby, don’t be ugly.” </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px;"><b>Webster's dictionary defines <i>ugly</i> as something that is contrary to beauty or offensive to sight.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>UGLY?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Do you
remember a time when someone called you ugly? This is a word that is commonly
used to describe feelings of disgust over a particular person place or thing.
We all have experiences when it comes to how we look at ourselves and others. I can
speak from personal experience about this. <i>I have two big ears and one crooked nose </i>and
this can add up to one big zero for self-confidence. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">This was a challenge for me growing up, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">especially when trying to get
through high school. So it was during this time </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">I began to ask
myself a question. Was I wonderfully and fearfully created in the image of God? </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px;"><b>Now I had turned myself into an ugly creation who doubted the design of a loving creator.</b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b>He loves me... He loves me not</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The world
is flooded with opportunistic companies that keep us pampered and polished with
the things of our dreams: a pretty face, a chiseled body, and the perfect eye-popping hairdo. There is constant pressure from parading ads that tantalize us
into taking care of how we look. A finatical flaunting of the perfect size, shape and
sex appeal make it hard not to join in on this beauty bandwagon. It can be even harder to resist for those who have not been given the same high marks on the
beauty charts. In a beauty crazed world filled with nines and tens we can wind up feeling like a zero.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Eventually, after years of failure, I began to see the real me. I realized that no</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> person or product in all the world can help me love myself and this was a
tough lesson for me to learn. I started to take care
of the looks I had been given and still have an added measure of respect and
humility for others. I was then able to see that so many people felt like God didn't love them just the way they are. This gave me a
glimpse into the ugly truth.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #a64d79; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><b> His Glorious Gaze</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><b style="font-size: 19px;">IMAGINE THIS! </b>No matter who we are or what we do, there remains a silent struggle with self-love. This allows us to be the perfect
example for those who battle with the same thing. Everyone is worthy of being
in the center of His glorious gaze and with a continual uncovering of the blinders from
our eyes this brings an authentic vision into view. We see who we are through the eyes of God and we learn to linger in His awe inspiring attention.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"> </span><b style="font-size: 19px;">He loves me</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"> and this is </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">"the ugly truth."</span></b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><b><i>NOTE: THE <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><u>BATHTUB THEOLOGY </u></span> AND<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red; text-decoration: underline;">AZ </span></span></i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><b><i>SECTIONS ARE ON THE</i></b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><b><i>TOP LEFT SIDE OF BLOG. </i></b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">*</span>Feel free to leave a question,comment or concern.</b></i></span><br />
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<!--EndFragment-->Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-38911658875952532662013-01-13T12:59:00.001-06:002013-01-17T12:14:13.150-06:00This bud's for you.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Years ago Budweiser unveiled a popular ad campaign with a slogan that</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> seemed to put so many people in a festive mood if you know what i mean. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> All across the world Budweiser had people </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">saying <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">"cheers, this bud's for you." </span><span class="Apple-style-span">W</span><span class="Apple-style-span">hat I want to do with this post is to give my twist on this successful slogan and talk about a different kind of bud. </span></i></span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i><u>New Year's Eve celebration in Chicago</u></i></span><i> </i></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We spent this past Christmas and NYE in Chicago and had a good time as you can tell. My wife and I were ringing in the new year at a house party. That's her in the picture with a hand up. And yes, we managed to celebrate without a lot of drinking. Before the party ever got rolling,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> the DJ mentioned the Sandy Hook shootings. He said that he wanted us to have a moment of silence for the family and friends of the victims.So many of us were wracked with grief when the shooting occurred and it was right around the holidays and that made it even harder to take. </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>I want to comment on why this hits home for me. </b></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b> </b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have you ever seen a early frost hit a young flower bud? I've seen it at times and often this can affect the bud's growth. At worst, an early death can take place. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now that the tragedy at Sandy Hook has happened, it's got me thinking, talking and writing about it. I'm asking and praying "what is the best way to raise up and protect my little flower buds?" This is not an easy question for me to figure out. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Being a parent is like being a gardener. When our babies are born, these little miracle buds of life bring so much joy to our lives. As parents, it's </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> a day we never forget and it becomes one of the most important jobs we have to help them grow healthy and strong. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I believe that the best way to do this is with a blanket of love that covers a child with the warmth needed to battle the frost. We know that one day the frost is coming and it will hit them like a cold and careless smack across the face. Without the warmth of love, this can have a lasting affect on how our child deals with life in the present and future. Imagine a chilling frost as it hits a blossoming bud. It can keep the bud closed off from it's full color and potential. Kids are the same way.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"> <b>We must love our bud's. It can be done, it must be done.</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The shooting at Sandy Hook hurt me more than any shooting I can recall. These young tender buds were snatched away from this world way too soon. With a cold, calculating and deliberate intent, one man on this devastating day became the grim gardener and decided to rip from the ground these growing bud's that were being nurtured, warmed, watered and loved. I'm not sure about the home life of this person or what he was thinking. W</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">hat I do know is that this deadly deed shines a light on what can happen when a person moves away from the warmth of love and enters into a chilling, love dodging, love taking state of random and senseless destruction of life. But all is not lost. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Milton say,"Heavenly love shall outdo Hellish hate." </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Zooming down the hallways of Sandy Hook were beaming ministering spirits who were called down to protect and serve those in danger. From a spiritual osmosis of sorts, both wisdom and strength were ushered in to <span class="text_exposed_show">guide the heroic staff and responders of SH. Beaming light penetrated dark intentions and muted was one man's goal of causing even more death and destruction. I pray each family touched by this tragedy will feel that still,soft visitation of those same spirits that now love and cherish their children in Heaven. </span><span class="text_exposed_show">I am reminded that the greatest thing we can do is to love our own little cherubs of light, our little bud's. On that day when the Lord delivers to me that precious package of growing life,</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="text_exposed_show"> I</span> know I will hear the Lord say</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>"cheers, this bud's for you."</i></span></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>~I would love to hear from you. Leave a comment. From my bathtub theology section tell me your ideal bathroom. </i></b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b> </b>Kyndl</i></span></div>
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<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">True love begins in Heavens bower, unfolds on earth a perfect flower.</span></i></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">~ Ardelia Cotton Barton</span><br />
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Come down to earth were beaming bearers of light to visit us a while. Suddenly, they went streaking away from the clouds of grey and now they, the tiny travelers run to blue skies for the perfect play place.</span></b></span></h2>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9207006041886386844.post-64978195960521852032013-01-09T19:26:00.000-06:002013-01-17T12:22:56.020-06:00~My first blog~<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Over the wild blue yonder!</span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-size: small;">"Keep your feet on the ground and your thoughts at Lofty heights"</span></b></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">~peace pilgrim quotes</span></span></h2>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>My love lies bleeding......</i></b></span></h2>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b> </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><i><b>AZ</b></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">the writer of this blog I will write from the heart and vow to treat each person with respect and humility. I will post from a perspective of everyday life and my goal is to somehow invoke the minds eye and encourage you with simple child-like faith and innocence. I hope you will follow me as we all seek new heights of faith, physical well being and creativity. I live by a few tenets and will joyfully share more as we go along.</span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">One of these tenets is</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b><i>AZ</i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">. It stands for (ArtistZen.) Many of you know that I have a passion for the entertainment industry and my hope is that those who are in it will stay</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b><i><u>rooted</u></i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">and grounded in God, family, friends and art. This way of life is where I find my complete peace, my </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>zen.</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> These</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>four</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">elements make up</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>"the </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>tetrad" </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">and will be appear often in my blog.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">My general thought is that we can all become</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>"taller than the trees"</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">and no matter how tall we get, we must stay rooted in God, family, friends and art.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> ************</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><i><b>I will be starring in this blog AZ myself</b></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">*******************</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Who am I?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><u><i>I am a</i> <span style="font-style: italic;">christian, husband, dad, son, brother, friend and singer.</span></u></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><i><u><br /></u></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>My love lies bleeding for you.......... I am a writer. Yesssss</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b><br /></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b><br /></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b><br /></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
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<b>The four tetrad elements in Hebrew</b></div>
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<b>(this is my tattoo)</b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><b>On your mark get set, here we go with the first post. ( I can't believe this.)</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; font-weight: bold;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">~The Magic Password</span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
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I had a conversation the other day with my wife about passwords. The world is filled with people</div>
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who use passwords everyday. It can be overwhelming when trying to keep up with my own list</div>
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of passwords. Without them I couldn't gain access to <b>critical</b> information. After talking with her it gave me an idea on what to write about for my first post. </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">the magic password </span><b>username </b><u> Kyndl <b> </b></u><b>PASSWORD</b><u><b> </b> ? </u></div>
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Here are a list of words that would make great passwords. They start with the letter "L."</div>
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<b><i style="background-color: #9fc5e8;">lady-lagoon-latte-lamb-Lord-lavender-landscape-licorice-leopard-liberty-lucid-lyre.</i></b><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">and here is the greatest password of all.</span></i></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">LOVE</span></b></div>
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It sounds trite but it is so true.</div>
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My mentor once told me that we have to earn the right to be heard. If I go to a village that is in need,</div>
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I better go with food and water before I go with some great speech on love. This reminds me of another important "L" word. </div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">LISTEN</span></b></div>
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Each day I get on my knees and pray one simple prayer.</div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;"><i>Lord, teach me to listen</i></span><i style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;">. </i>In doing this it will make me a better man, husband and writer.</div>
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If we ever want to get to the heart of a person, we have to put love into action and when we have done this, we gain total access to their world. We have now earned the right to be heard.</div>
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thanks for loving and listening,</div>
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Kyndl</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WmQe7mBV-fE/UOiGeDbEcOI/AAAAAAAAASQ/-EjB2yCmIU0/s1600/Streak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WmQe7mBV-fE/UOiGeDbEcOI/AAAAAAAAASQ/-EjB2yCmIU0/s320/Streak.jpg" style="background-color: white; border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-right-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-style: solid; border-top-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); cursor: move; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Love is begun by time,</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">and time qualifies</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">the spark and fire of it.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> <i> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #3d85c6;"><b> thefehrenheights~ ignite. arise to new heights.</b></span></i></span></div>
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Kyndlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02845944850392084503noreply@blogger.com0