I think that we can’t always know our specific destiny (like the
prince in the story I posted yesterday); but we do know why we are
here.  We know our ultimate goal (to be like Christ), and that our
purpose is to glorify God.  I should be able to act like the
prince instead of the duke because I know that I have a higher calling
than my own immediate satisfaction.

~Eph. 4:1, “…beseech you to walk worthy of the calling with which you were called.”~




My friend Darra often shares with me how she thinks of herself as a
princess, the daughter of the King.  This view of who she is
affects how she acts, how she treats others, how she responds to
situations.  I think a proper view of ourselves (not too high,
but not junk, either) is essential in our journey towards becoming like
Christ.  Otherwise, what is the point of living for anything but
the moment?

the stories of these two very different men has affected me profoundly…

    I once read the true story of a duke named Raynald
III, who lived during the fourteenth century.  His sad life
illustrates how giving in to our lustful desires–the very thing we
often equate with freedom–actually robs us of freedom and true joy.

    Raynald III had lived a life of indulgence and was
extremely overweight.  In fact, he was commonly called by his
Latin nickname, Crassus, which means “fat.”

    After a violent quarrel, Raynald’s younger brother,
Edward, led a successful revolt against him.  Edward captured
Raynald but did not kill him.  Instead he built a room around him
in the Nieuwkerk Castle and promised him he could regain his freedom as
soon as he was able to leave the room.

    This wouldn’t have been very difficult for most
people since the room had several windows and a door of near-normal
size, and none was locked or barred.  The problem was Raynald’s
size.  To regain his freedom, he needed to lose weight.  But
Edward knew his older brother, and each day he sent him a variety of
delicious foods.  Instead of dieting his way to freedom, Raynald
grew fatter.  He stayed in the room for ten years, till his
brother died in battle.  But by then his health was so ruined that
he died within a year–a prisoner of his own appetite.
Not Even a Hint, p. 45

contrast that with this story about the son of King Louis XVI of France:

    King Louis had been taken from his throne and
imprisoned.  His young son, the prince, was taken by those who
dethroned the king.  They thought that inasmuch as the king’s son
was heir to the throne, if they could destroy him morally, he would
never the great and grand destiny that life had bestowed upon him.


    They took him to a community far away, and there
they exposed the lad to every filthy and vile thing that life could
offer.  They exposed him to foods the richness of which would
quickly make him a slave to appetite.  They used vile language
around him constantly.  They exposed him to lewd and lusting
women.  They exposed him to dishonor and distrust.  He was
surrounded twenty-four hours a day by everything that could drag the
soul of a man as low as one could slip.  For over six months he
had this treatment–but not once did the young lad buckle under
pressure.  Finally, after intensive temptation, they questioned
him.  Why had he not submitted himself to these things–why had he
not partaken?  These things would provide pleasure, satisfy his
lusts, and were desirable; they were all his.  The boy said, “I
cannot do what you ask for I was born to be a king.”
The 7 Habits
of Highly Effective Teens, p. 15

what made these two so different?  how does one man understand who
he is and what he was made for while another does not?  and how
does one man stand firm while another falls prey to his own sinful
desires? 
                                    
most importantly, which one am i?

Steph finishing her snow angel on Christmas Eve…

our back deck around midnight Christmas Eve…

I’ll have to post more later.  Some of the pictures turned out really good.

oh, wonderful visits!
family is the greatest thing.
We got to see grandmas and grandpa
aunts and uncles and cousins….
Sisters and I and Shelly and the boys
spent the night at our  aunt and uncle’s with
our cousins
Steph and Kat made Grandpa’s birthday cake
and we watched “The Three Stooges”
(and my littlest brother laughed so hard he was
practically screaming)
we spent most of Sunday with our cousins’
the boys built a fire and Steph and Aunt Mikala
cooked a pot of chili over it!
Aunt Mikala put on “Lagaan” to see
Gracie dance
it cracked us all up
she’s so cute!  I love her.
and then we all drove home late last night
Sisters and I got to drive Mom’s Highlander back
and we talked most of the way.
good times…

This has been the best Christmas I’ve had in about ten years. 
Kinda sad?  Maybe.  But I like to think it’s wonderful,
because now I can hear my Savior’s voice.  What could be more
joyful than that? 

I hope everyone else had a marvelous weekend, and I hope we get to see a bunch of you soon. 

God blessed with hope his people that day when Christ was born…

Merry Christmas!

A WHITE CHRISTMAS! 

(if it lasts the night)

It really snowed tonight.  We had snowball fights with Dad and the
boys.  The dogs didn’t realy like it because they slid around on
the deck, but the children loved getting the snow off the trampoline
and the cars.  The pic is of Samantha and Sophie on the
trampoline.  Unlike this morning, this snow is powdery and perfect
for packing into rock-hard snowballs.    Yeah, they
hurt. 

This has been a perfect Christmas Eve.  We’ve opened a few gifts and Steph is starting
to serve dessert.  I finally got my big mug of hot cocoa with
three big scoops of cool whip.  I had to wait till my fingers
thawed…my gloves had gotten wet so my fingers were burning.  I
finally quit taking pictures when I couldn’t make my fingers work
enough to turn off  the camera.

Sonya is a doll, but not a perfect one.  We were playing with
the toy she opened–kind of to show her how it worked, kind of because
it was fascinating–and she kept saying “Na, na” (no, no) and trying to
take the pieces back.    Little goose. 
She is so much fun.  She was only six months old last Christmas, so
this has been fun.  She didn’t think much of the snow.  She didn’t know
the difference, I guess.  Sandi (13) has gone off to bed, anxious for a good night’s sleep to
survive tomorrow’s early morning and the trip to Austin.  The
weekend will be a long one, but the joy of visiting family will more
than make up for it.  My Grandpa is turning 85 on Sunday. 
Wow.

Thank you, Lord, for my family.  They are the best thing I have this year.

11:30pm–
Boy, it really came down hard just a little bit ago.  I was about
to climb into bed when Steph called me down.  So we got dressed
and went back out.  It’s about two or three inches on the grass,
deeper on the trampoline and drifing higher against the fence and
garage.  The cars look so cool.  My little car is almost
buried!  Steph made a snow angel and Dad helped us make a little
snowman for the children to see in the morning.  I have a feeling
we’ll be leaving for Austin a little later than planned.  There’s
no way we can skip playing in this stuff.  Especially since they
didn’t get any up there.  HA!

Just when you thought it could never happen again in your
lifetime…too many eighty-degree Christmases–and WHAM!  It snows
in Houston.  Talk about bringing back faith.  *grin*  I
love it~

Some of these pictures turned out really cool.  I may have to get
premium for a little while just so I can post some of them.  It’ll
be nice to look at next week when it hits the seventies again (at least
that’s the prediction).  Too weird–snow on Christmas and seventy
degrees four days later.  Only in Houston…!

G’night, ya’ll.  Have fun in the morning~

“You’re in England now, the land of manners..” said Dad
just before a little old man opened the door to our ring. 
I didn’t know it was Tootles.
“It’s snowing!!” he yelled, and slammed the door in our faces.
               
              
              
              
                
               (from “Hook”)

It really is snowing!  In Houston!  Well, I’ve seen
more.  This is just little tiny white balls that you barely see
until they’ve accumulated on the back-door mat.  Years ago we had
enough to make the ground white–as in, it acutally stuck.  And a
few years before that we had enough for Sandi Y. and I to make a
snowman.  So this is
nothing.  But it’s still cool for Christmas Eve!  I had such
delusions of grandeur about getting up early, but I slept through four
songs on my alarm and woke up cozy under two blankets, with breakfast smells drifting
upstairs (little sisters are wonderful), and Mom hollering down the
hall, “Tootles, it’s snowing!”   Memories are made of days
like this…

Happy Christmas Eve, everyone!

our house feels like Christmas
Lights on the house–
am I the only one  who thinks
they should be on during the day on days like this? 
Our tree has stuffed animals
on it instead of glass ornaments and
it looks like it’s about to be
displaced by the enormous amount of presents under it. 
They spill out from under,
flow up to cabinet behind
and onto the fireplace. 
Blast, that means no fire…I think something should change. 
I wish I had a picture of it. 
The children made gingerbread
cookies on Monday,
and Steph has made fudge nearly every day. 
I can’t find my Nat King Cole CD,
which means Frank and Bing have
been doing a lot of singing lately.
We keep begging Mom
to let Gracie open a few presents early. 
Children make Christmas better.
I got a picture of it…

 

Dedicate your life to a cause greater than yourself, and your life will become a glorious romance and adventure.

 

mack douglas

Why are we so afraid to speak the truth? 
When did “love” become
apathetic tolerance for fear of offending? 
What’s so horrible
about “preaching”? 
Isn’t that what we are commanded?  To
preach Christ? 
Why am I such a coward when I know it’s not about
me anyway?