tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71668180116290375342024-02-02T00:11:13.128-07:00Noble NotionsAmber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-60924953303452751582011-07-11T02:35:00.003-06:002011-07-11T02:35:56.523-06:00Book Review: The Jesus You Can't Ignore<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMY3Hpc1XPheFMj4vLrgYrKSPPVCaAwese1TKoQcyMpqlB27vfKXki8fgUefTSwS_UGODZYpOdeGKo2EE0amIp2pbNK0Xi4sVqO9e5zSVNhKPjji6WHLZE-BIzybG22cKWQ9h9T4rKr-s/s1600/9781400202065-F.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMY3Hpc1XPheFMj4vLrgYrKSPPVCaAwese1TKoQcyMpqlB27vfKXki8fgUefTSwS_UGODZYpOdeGKo2EE0amIp2pbNK0Xi4sVqO9e5zSVNhKPjji6WHLZE-BIzybG22cKWQ9h9T4rKr-s/s320/9781400202065-F.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Don't you just love the cover?!</span></div>
<br />
This is not an easy read! I started this book in August. It is now <em>July</em>. It's taken me <strong>one year</strong> to complete--<u>not</u> because MacArthur doesn't know how to write, but if you're like me & need a little action, humor etc. when it comes to books, this one is <em>not</em> for you. It can get boring because there is no humor and it gets a little "wordy". Plus the chapters are pretty long.<br />
<br />
<em>However, </em>I did think the author is an excellent writer. This book details the ministry of Jesus from the gospels of the Bible. I love the way he begins the first chapter, capturing Jesus' character overall saying, "Jesus' way of dealing with sinners was normally marked by such extreme tenderness..." But it kind of takes a spin in irony, because the rest of the book is all about the opposite: When it's wrong to be nice.<br />
<br />
This covers Jesus' dealings with the religious leaders, mostly the Pharisees. His sermons were full of harsh words & hard truths as MacArthur puts it. <em>Not</em> because He was a mean man, but because these people <em>needed</em> to hear the truth--and not a sugarcoated one at that.<br />
<br />
Overall, I definitely reccomend the book <em>itself</em>, because you'll gain a lot of insight to Jesus' nature & teachings & the book can come alive in your mind but <em>only</em> if you like this kind of reading and if you're okay with words you may not understand! It's kinda like watching a movie! I'd say it was a nice change from books I usually head for.<br />
<br />
<br />
*This was my <em>honest</em> review for <a href="http://booksneeze.com/">Booksneeze</a>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-56924884664368440002011-06-08T22:40:00.000-06:002011-06-08T22:40:09.066-06:00Readers & writers & characters oh my!<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3oSCYzUDKFBQajVNcr9TFB7Fq_tWxVOaZqCjBYNv19hJpSgr6NZ7Qr_pE_RPVFE2ycHTfYUJA33Dog1waa9-yJdpa3j2YOhtP3VJa6id4FemMTi0rYHpx70N1RONX8tE5QowkwJqqgYE/s1600/fruit-300x220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3oSCYzUDKFBQajVNcr9TFB7Fq_tWxVOaZqCjBYNv19hJpSgr6NZ7Qr_pE_RPVFE2ycHTfYUJA33Dog1waa9-yJdpa3j2YOhtP3VJa6id4FemMTi0rYHpx70N1RONX8tE5QowkwJqqgYE/s1600/fruit-300x220.jpg" t8="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">It's 10:30</div><div style="text-align: center;">I hate nights. Because that means I actually have to <em>sleep.</em></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ugh.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Anyway, my eyes are drooping but I'm in a writing mood. I'm working on a story. It's been keepin' me busy. I give the glory to God b/c He's been giving me some inspiration! I hope one day I can ge it published. Wouldn't that be cool? </div><div style="text-align: center;">I love to write & write & write. I have a million and one stories either in the back of my mind or already on paper just waiting.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I simply don't have all the answers to those lonesome characters in the back of my mind. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm sorry Amythyst, I just have no clue what your last name will be, how old you are, or what your life story is.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ronnie, girl, who know's where you're goin'.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Poor Jade. She has no one but I <em>do</em> have a plan for her!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hmmmm.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Doesn't this remind you of something? Or should I say <em>Someone?</em> I didn't plan it out that way. It just happened. God just somehow steps in & makes it all about Him. Because it is!</div><div style="text-align: center;">But, really, it reminds me that He is writing our stories & wow! He already knows the ending. That's why He's all,</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Chill! I got it all figured out! I already wrote it I hope you know!"</div><div style="text-align: center;">Haha. Silly us. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I need to chill a lot of the time. I get so freaked out about the future. I wish Sadie, one of my current characters would stop worrying what she's going to become. I already know because, well, I wrote it. I have the idea.</div><div style="text-align: center;">What a humbling thought. God just revealed this to me now. I had no idea I'd be writing all this.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But it's true.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Okay, can you tell at all that I'm tired & about to fall asleep?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Goodnight, readers p)</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-40241084164110284552011-05-30T17:34:00.000-06:002011-05-30T17:34:29.623-06:00The Boeing 767<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">"I sat in my seat of the Boeing 767 waiting for everyone to hurry and stow </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">their carry-ons and grab a seat so we could start what I was sure to be a </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">long, uneventful flight home. With the huge capacity and slow moving people </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">taking their time to stuff luggage far too big for the overhead and never </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">paying much attention to holding up the growing line behind them, I simply </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">shook my head knowing that this flight was not starting out very well. I </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">was anxious to get home to see my loved ones so I was focused on "my" </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">issues and just felt like standing up and yelling for some of these clowns </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">to get their act together. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I knew I couldn't say a word so I just thumbed thru the "Sky Mall" magazine </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">from the seat pocket in front of me. You know it's really getting rough when </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">you resort to the over priced, useless sky mall crap to break the monotony. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">With everyone finally seated, we just sat there with the cabin door open and </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">no one in any hurry to get us going although we were well past the scheduled </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">take off time. No wonder the airline industry is in trouble I told myself. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Just then, the attendant came on the intercom to inform us all that we were </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">being delayed. The entire plane let out a collective groan. She resumed </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">speaking to say "We are holding the aircraft for some very special people who </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">are on their way to the plane and the delay shouldn't be more than 5 minutes. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The word came after waiting six times as long as we were promised that "I" </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">was finally going to be on my way home. Why the hoopla over "these" folks? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I was expecting some celebrity or sport figure to be the reason for the hold up </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">.........Just get their butts in a seat and lets hit the gas I thought. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The attendant came back on the speaker to announce in a loud and excited </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">voice that we were being joined by several U. S. Marines returning home from </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Iraq!!! Just as they walked on board, the entire plane erupted into applause. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The men were a bit taken by surprise by the 340 people cheering for them </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">as they searched for their seats. They were having their hands shook and </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">touched by almost everyone who was within an arm's distance of them as they </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">passed down the aisle. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">One elderly woman kissed the hand of one of the Marines as he passed by her. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The applause, whistles and cheering didn't stop for a long time. When we were </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">finally airborne, "I" was not the only civilian checking his conscience as to the </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">delays in "me" getting home, finding my easy chair, a cold beverage and the </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">remote in my hand. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">These men had done for all of us and I had been complaining silently about </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">"me" and "my" issues. I took for granted the everyday freedoms I enjoy and </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">the conveniences of the American way of life I took for granted others paid the </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">price for my ability to moan and complain about a few minutes delay to "me" </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">those Heroes going home to their loved ones. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I attempted to get my selfish outlook back in order and minutes before we </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">landed I suggested to the attendant that she announce over the speaker a </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">request for everyone to remain in their seats until our hero's were allowed to </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">gather their things and be first off the plane. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The cheers and applause continued until the last Marine stepped off and we </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">all rose to go about our too often taken for granted everyday freedoms......... </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I felt proud of them. I felt it an honor and a privilege to be among the first to </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">welcome them home and say Thank You for a job well done. I vowed that </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I will never forget that flight nor the lesson learned. I can't say it enough, </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">THANK YOU to those Veterans and active servicemen and women who </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">may read this and a prayer for those who cannot because they are no longer </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">with us. GOD BLESS AMERICA! WELCOME HOME! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">AND THANKS FOR A JOB WELL DONE !!!!!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Found <a href="http://www.believing-christians.com/id109.html">here</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Yes, God has blessed America in so many ways & I hope we remember,</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Blessed is the nation whose God is the LORD."</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Psalm 33:23-</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-52843014085186565802011-05-29T22:04:00.000-06:002011-05-29T22:04:30.312-06:00I want to write!<div style="text-align: center;">But somehow, when I write, I get stuck.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I have so many ideas swirling through my head for a story. I have at least 5 "novels" I've started on & only 1finished. And even that one doesn't seem very good.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It seems like I have the perfect beginning & the perfect ending, but don't know what to do with the middle.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Where's the storyline?</div><div style="text-align: center;">The plot?</div><div style="text-align: center;">The...<em>story?</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKB4vR4ObLD4Vps2XsN2a0sthRqmw5TntoeP9Xo3vIXL4cUu29RKow8ueR2TE7Ai1tVnXUe2eETbfOBTzYUkVGRaW8TYFoCQiJKPeM5EJWbsyrYAV89Ziqh027yvrsjVp6F31SJN0SOM/s1600/untitled.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKB4vR4ObLD4Vps2XsN2a0sthRqmw5TntoeP9Xo3vIXL4cUu29RKow8ueR2TE7Ai1tVnXUe2eETbfOBTzYUkVGRaW8TYFoCQiJKPeM5EJWbsyrYAV89Ziqh027yvrsjVp6F31SJN0SOM/s320/untitled.bmp" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I see Ella, I see Sadie, I see Abigail and Amethyst.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I see all my characters.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But who are they, really?</div><div style="text-align: center;">What part do they play in this make believe world?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Perhaps I'm analyzing this too much, but that's just me. I over analyze.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtNvd10y8ky2dPCmUMs2ojDsTST_ruiZ8yc8oqGdfbzzPajMvaedjP0IFSICMTJo7traKqcQ3iueyN47zzwtVfoUml-MaaLEq_MnyRHALCboj4VCMjvCWwbvzRd36YW8yhL08WKGQwwpo/s1600/mn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtNvd10y8ky2dPCmUMs2ojDsTST_ruiZ8yc8oqGdfbzzPajMvaedjP0IFSICMTJo7traKqcQ3iueyN47zzwtVfoUml-MaaLEq_MnyRHALCboj4VCMjvCWwbvzRd36YW8yhL08WKGQwwpo/s320/mn.jpg" t8="true" width="237" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">How can I make these ideas fly?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJVRnU5FPVS4EpJL2AONDDDyc_TMVDHDDk_ZZv37dlddY1YKaAy1GuTc68-7IgaRZ6mZfnER8g5wGT82O8eXC2X5TV8-Z6WEv6iu4oHeBh3YFPkNFWi1yH2y6hKNJb2FiyqbfSg3gwoKQ/s1600/imagesCA3IG7PH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJVRnU5FPVS4EpJL2AONDDDyc_TMVDHDDk_ZZv37dlddY1YKaAy1GuTc68-7IgaRZ6mZfnER8g5wGT82O8eXC2X5TV8-Z6WEv6iu4oHeBh3YFPkNFWi1yH2y6hKNJb2FiyqbfSg3gwoKQ/s320/imagesCA3IG7PH.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div align="center">Dear Ideas,</div><div align="center">You're plenty. You kinda make my mind hurt, but I suppose it's for the best.</div><div align="center">I write you down all the time, but you don't leave me with much.</div><div align="center">I'm stuck with an imagine-less imagination sometimes.</div><div align="center">Are you sure all you have is what you are?</div><div align="center">You're not going to answer me are you?</div><div align="center">Well, I better ask the Lord to provide what you aren't giving me.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-15073546118946528272011-05-24T21:20:00.000-06:002011-05-24T21:20:45.520-06:00Just You & me {Short Story!}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaItUPW1psrTr_hY7oyYGAMlYIX1Z56g9uZU9JqQ9KSBggtxN0Z0zBTEcJCVW8kOmi-mbZBPfs8vbVvWhJ5eA-CU9UPkZGILUI1fJ7HtCNt1SP3qFwya3iE8JTxWL8sADbVcgexA4ykC4/s1600/sailboat_in_the_storm_by_ducse79-d2ypn60.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaItUPW1psrTr_hY7oyYGAMlYIX1Z56g9uZU9JqQ9KSBggtxN0Z0zBTEcJCVW8kOmi-mbZBPfs8vbVvWhJ5eA-CU9UPkZGILUI1fJ7HtCNt1SP3qFwya3iE8JTxWL8sADbVcgexA4ykC4/s320/sailboat_in_the_storm_by_ducse79-d2ypn60.jpg" t8="true" width="208" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">I heard sea gulls and crashing waves, and knew I could only be in one place.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> “Where are we?” I asked quietly.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">“</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">We're almost there,” He said with adventure in His voice. Once my foot felt the water, something came alive in me and I couldn't stop smiling.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">“</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Okay,” He said. “You can open your eyes.”</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">I wonder what He was thinking when He said that. I mean, He did make my eyes after all!</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> So there I stood. With eyes wide open, taking in the scene. The ocean was right in front of me! There was a beautiful wooden sailboat ready to be taken ashore and I knew He had reserved it just for us.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">“</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Let's go sailing,” He told me. “Out on the sea. Just you and Me.” My heart skipped a beat as He lead me to the boat. We set sail and boy was it at wonderful feeling.! He pointed to a dolphin. Oh! I had never seen one! </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Then He pointed to a shark, and told me not to be afraid.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> After hours of wonderful bliss out at sea, it began to rain. It poured. And I was scared for my life. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">“</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">This boat can't make it!” I yelled. “It's too small for these raging waves.” But you won't believe what happened. He came up to me and had me face the water. And then He said, “Be still," to the water. </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">And that was all He needed to say. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Time went on and I watched Him catch fish with His hands. We talked about our dreams again. I looked Him in the eye, those beautiful baby blue eyes. He said something funny, and we just laughed until our sides hurt!</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">I love His laugh. </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Then it was quiet for a moment. The sun was going down and the breeze swept across my face like birds flying through trees. He looked at me and said, “Let's go for a walk.” I looked at Him strangely, although I knew in my heart what He meant. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">“</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Where?” I asked anyway.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">He pointed. He pointed out onto the sea.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">“</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">You mean on the water?”</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">He held out His hand and said, ”Let's go walking. Out on the sea. Just you and Me.” It took me awhile before I could get my foot onto the water. But He held my hand the whole way and here I was! Walking on water with my Best Friend. We walked miles, and at dusk, I got to watch Him paint the sky with only words and His fingertip. It was magical!</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> I grew sleepy and although the water was great for my feet, I couldn't keep walking. So He picked me up in His arms and carried me. I know I heard singing the whole way.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> When I woke up, we were back in the boat. </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Just Him and me. </span></div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-69340523105432665192011-05-24T14:04:00.000-06:002011-05-24T14:04:05.968-06:00Waiting For The Sunrise<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXJ9UaHclf28VtmQq-lh993URO6-gNoYU5l51FD3y9g_ls3YDa6tUKU5OsoxegrT_RWQOuoLd0Whyf3QKwvaP0sFQtXD6fP4TDin1HAzUmybjsszlNNdx9yQTZye1baJzzrBzXNhY9skA/s1600/Sailboat-at-Sunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXJ9UaHclf28VtmQq-lh993URO6-gNoYU5l51FD3y9g_ls3YDa6tUKU5OsoxegrT_RWQOuoLd0Whyf3QKwvaP0sFQtXD6fP4TDin1HAzUmybjsszlNNdx9yQTZye1baJzzrBzXNhY9skA/s1600/Sailboat-at-Sunset.jpg" t8="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I am a dreamer.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Dreaming and dreaming, alone—in the dust.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I feel like a river. Flowing and flowing, alone—at dusk.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Flowing through an open gate,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Watching as the sunset breaks.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Waiting for the sunrise to make.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am a rider.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Riding and riding, alone—in the woods.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I feel like a hider. Hiding and hiding from the weight of this world.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hiding from a sheltered place,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Watching every hopeless face.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Waiting for the sunrise to make.</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-68999192119524375942011-04-26T12:56:00.000-06:002011-04-26T12:56:11.379-06:00From The Journal (Anger & Hatred speaks out)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6EzBzRgXNfpcSUJEwtt_LtOhI8qAQrj1lHf2rfASYGHU0VQOqpy2tEAYdlEBtG2-0vSxk_8Ox78l_sh8UzJg9Qzr6fdv44XyyCWQZ4bql3id2C0bUH2eBsahUJ3TOMEzgoJIRMVBJ9Kw/s1600/google.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6EzBzRgXNfpcSUJEwtt_LtOhI8qAQrj1lHf2rfASYGHU0VQOqpy2tEAYdlEBtG2-0vSxk_8Ox78l_sh8UzJg9Qzr6fdv44XyyCWQZ4bql3id2C0bUH2eBsahUJ3TOMEzgoJIRMVBJ9Kw/s400/google.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div align="center">I want you to read something. It's my journal entry of about 8 minutes ago. I am forgiven, know this is true. I feel so amazingly in awe of Christ's forgiveness, & let. me. tell you. His forgiveness is REAL. Trust me--the fact that I was able to forgive myself says a lot. He is so gracious!</div><div style="text-align: center;">"I am so filled with shame. It’s sickening. It’s painful and the tears are more brutal than before. But I can’t begin to tell you how much anger and hatred is in my heart and it scares me. It frustrates me. It angers me even more than I already am. I knew the Bible talked about this. “Those foolish disputes come straight from the heart.” It’s true. But why? Why has this built up in me? What do I do now that I realize how much hate and anger is in me? This sucks. Why can’t I follow the commandments? </div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">”Do not quarrel…” “Be gentle to everyone…” “Be at peace amongst yourselves”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And as I continue to look through those underlined words in the Bible, my heart feels softened. This one always gets to me:</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Put on heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience, accepting one another and forgiving one another if anyone has a complaint against another. Just as the Lord has forgiven you, so also must you forgive. Above all put on love—the perfect bond of unity. And let the peace of the Messiah…control your hearts.”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Colossians 2:12-14</div><div style="text-align: center;">It’s so easy to read & agree with it until you’re faced with the decision to actually obey it. Pride gets in the way. Me and ash (my sister) had the WORST ever fight. It was filled with cruel words, even pushing each other physically. It was so brutal that even the fact that the kids were present and watching didn’t stop us. I hate this. I even threw my phone at her! I feel so ashamed and angry more with myself. But that fact that she <em>had</em> to say, ”And you call yourself a holy little Christian?” That gets to me more than anything else. Anything.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I already asked God to forgive me. And I believe he did. But I can’t so easily forgive myself. I hate it. When that verse said, “just as Christ has forgiven you…you must also forgive” it helps me greatly. So if HE can forgive ME for being this way, I ought to not only forgive myself, but Ash.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Of course the devil had to do this a day before God takes us to Israel. I even considered staying here instead of going b/c I’m afraid to fight like this with ash. It’s so weird. Sometimes, I can control this anger & temper. But on days like today, I blow up—yelling and throwing rude comments. The thing is, she is right about the holy little Christian remark. I knew that all along. I never claimed myself to be perfect! Ugh. Just b/c I do call myself a Christian, doesn’t mean I am perfect!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Lord, help me. I can’t say sorry, b/c in my heart I still feel troubled. No she doesn’t deserve to be forgiven, but neither did <em>I</em> by you. I have so much shame I feel like I can’t go on b/c the memory is too vivid and the hurt is great. I need YOU. I can’t do this alone. I am so sorry. I am living in agony!</div><div style="text-align: center;">GOD, CREATE IN ME A CLEAN HEART! AND RENEW A STEADFAST SPIRIT WITHIN ME!</div><div style="text-align: center;">“The Lord is compassionate and gracious; slow to anger and full of faithful love.” –Psalm 103:8-</div><div style="text-align: center;">“As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us.” Psalm 103:12</div><div style="text-align: center;">“Help me understand the meaning of Your precepts.” –Psalm 119:27-</div><div style="text-align: center;">“Help me stay on the path of Your commands.” V. 35</div><div style="text-align: center;">“Don’t let sin dominate me.” V. 133</div><div style="text-align: center;">“LORD, if You considered sins, LORD, who could stand? But with You there is forgiveness.” Psalm 130:3-4</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thank You Jesus! You’ve renewed my heart and I feel SO MUCH BETTER! You are so gracious to forgive!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Okay. So why did I share this? It's because I want you to know I do not claim myself perfect. 2, it's to show you how gracious our Lord is! 3, it's to show you these verses. I love the "how far the east is from the west.." one. East and west can never meet! And He removes the sickening shame!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's SO hard to be a "perfect little Christian". But I don't have to be perfect. My Father's love is so GREAT! He forgives us, so we must also forgive. Trust me--I did NOT want to. I do believe He created a clean heart in me. I need HIS strength--I can't do this alone anymore. Sure more fights will arise. But Oh, how I long for His strength.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">If you get anything out of this--God forgives!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-52755846579637143122011-03-27T19:39:00.000-06:002011-03-27T19:39:38.056-06:00Fictional books I HIGHLY (very highly) recommend.<div style="text-align: center;">Hello readers!<br />
(Not readers of this blog...just readers in general ;)<br />
<br />
Let's just get to the point.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Books<b>.</b> are<b>.</b> awesome<b>.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;">And I've read some over the past year that you need to read!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Here they are!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>The Christy Miller Series</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguAtGhUATePRMjxbTwXNe2iaxN5Azc7ezYqHKRWedZMr9javaPd_WMgnsFSJ26-dB3vt4OlTyuEk8N-bumJ7Wc5qJ5TfkCjoCoWi0rhFq85sJKiul2toHtdqgRTAgOa7hS-hYYwlwAVYs/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguAtGhUATePRMjxbTwXNe2iaxN5Azc7ezYqHKRWedZMr9javaPd_WMgnsFSJ26-dB3vt4OlTyuEk8N-bumJ7Wc5qJ5TfkCjoCoWi0rhFq85sJKiul2toHtdqgRTAgOa7hS-hYYwlwAVYs/s320/1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;">Okay. Seriously. </div><div style="text-align: center;">These are the best books I've ever read. Robin Jones Gunn (author) is so talented. Her books are all about life, God, love, friendship and all the inbetweens. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Christy Miller learns what true friendship is, what Christianity is really about (a relationship with the Lord) and finds love that is seriously tested through out all 30 books. TCMS are 12 books. Then is goes to on to another series, </div><div style="text-align: center;">The Sierra Jensen Series</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcD3JLN4yCsCybaKazIu8234k6MQAd_70mk63xqi3bL8AWz-ufBwuGha4EGitDgKh0FMWM2HZICfEjyjCF8IW0bqLzGe1n6vJK0LedOU0msIQms4p3fxfpO0P9rTm2XbxpRRqAOieKZPA/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcD3JLN4yCsCybaKazIu8234k6MQAd_70mk63xqi3bL8AWz-ufBwuGha4EGitDgKh0FMWM2HZICfEjyjCF8IW0bqLzGe1n6vJK0LedOU0msIQms4p3fxfpO0P9rTm2XbxpRRqAOieKZPA/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">another 12 books...but it is the same characters, same plot..just from Sierras point of view. And then the series continues with </div><div style="text-align: center;">Christy and Todd: The College Years</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6epPvycocdY9zUNnIsS1GArLeGovlSOEqxn-cO1FA2Ejcit2o4JQMh9laB-l1VLhmD8vxMi7OE4l-t0jKJYUYIAaLRT1cKFrz8iqS4KmGu_K5mYqoLN3wKLKxW3MaMN9BVYKhol0NkUg/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6epPvycocdY9zUNnIsS1GArLeGovlSOEqxn-cO1FA2Ejcit2o4JQMh9laB-l1VLhmD8vxMi7OE4l-t0jKJYUYIAaLRT1cKFrz8iqS4KmGu_K5mYqoLN3wKLKxW3MaMN9BVYKhol0NkUg/s1600/2.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> just 3 books (the best love story <i>ever</i>!), and then again continues with </div><div style="text-align: center;">The Katie Weldon Series,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-MKL9875Ny1AdlVZRFM1HodgVO1W4Ii4PCHSCJdh71TMEzf_b46ErEsGiXXUvxGfSGYH1dw4AKQ0lpEE3LynvZvRHDM-TIKeJj_A4OVwR47WcPdLZAwtJ_cQZ_UejvNWm45T9MUyX9M/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-MKL9875Ny1AdlVZRFM1HodgVO1W4Ii4PCHSCJdh71TMEzf_b46ErEsGiXXUvxGfSGYH1dw4AKQ0lpEE3LynvZvRHDM-TIKeJj_A4OVwR47WcPdLZAwtJ_cQZ_UejvNWm45T9MUyX9M/s1600/4.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> another 3 books.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Confusing yet?</div><div style="text-align: center;">These books are NOT little girls books. They are highly "mature" & are for pre-teens, teens, and young adults. You won't regret all that reading! I swear!</div><div style="text-align: center;">(And for all those Christy Miller fans out there who don't know this, Robin Jones Gunn has written 2 new books on the characters..(they're comin' in the mail for me!) Departures, Christy Miller's Diary, and Praying For Your Future Husband)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Go to Robins site <a href="http://www.christymillerandfriends.com/">here</a> to read separate reviews on the books!</div><div style="text-align: center;">If you like love stories & crazy cool characters...get these books!!! SO worth it.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Robins "testimony" on how these books came about it awesome. You can read it <a href="http://www.robingunn.com/PAGES/bio.html">here</a>.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I rate these books 10 out of 5.</div><div style="text-align: center;">(Hey, I'm making the rules here...)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Solomon's Song</b> by Roberta Kells Dorr </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigc57G8j46CujAeR-I6T6N-rrsBIVlH3mj3LSpkYYNh9kTVZCeay92uwoOlkrtyMLLex7Qe-grhtKWkZmVLM3r_QQJotXAo4GhU9CGXomOr_o2AM7_86-DXoYE7zVqVRMCX-dfNw5Ra9w/s1600/Solomons_Song-121493491762780.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigc57G8j46CujAeR-I6T6N-rrsBIVlH3mj3LSpkYYNh9kTVZCeay92uwoOlkrtyMLLex7Qe-grhtKWkZmVLM3r_QQJotXAo4GhU9CGXomOr_o2AM7_86-DXoYE7zVqVRMCX-dfNw5Ra9w/s320/Solomons_Song-121493491762780.jpg" width="208" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Does your heart just melt when you read Song of Songs in the Bible?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well then you'll love this! It's a fictional book written about the love story of young King Solomon & his little shepherdess. It's very accurate to the account of David and the beautiful words of Song of Songs. It's just told from a fictional point of view.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It really makes you think about true love. How it's tested. How it really is patient.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Solomon and his little shepherdess, Shulamit's (or in the Bible she's called Abishag) love is severely tested through time, obstacles, and misunderstandings. But God is so good and not even the plot of Solomon's [evil] brother, Adonijah, can cut of God's plan for a beautiful love.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It is so amazing!(<i>and</i> romantic) PLEASE get this book!</div><div style="text-align: center;">(And if you do, I recommend you read the account of Solomon first (in 1 Kings) as well as the whole book of Song of Songs)<br />
Don't you just love watching those old movies about people from the Bible?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well, this book is ah-mazing.<br />
It really is a detailed account of Song of Songs--Solomon & the Shulammite woman (Abisgag. She's mentioned in 1 Kings. But her name in the story is not Abishag)<br />
Anywho...it's such a sweet & romantic [godly] love story.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Ruth</b> by Lois Henderson</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOyRI4F_ykpvdDnGhUmJ-an2R4L0inj8ZFgFV0OQpqBVEEU1R11HsHzeHKUnAVdZG897IuLTuivUQwneFlyvjkpXBiyPlO1UPCVJV0_HRdjE7RSsfPDJ4agKClTSzIjynVhQQmn8GHB1k/s1600/ty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOyRI4F_ykpvdDnGhUmJ-an2R4L0inj8ZFgFV0OQpqBVEEU1R11HsHzeHKUnAVdZG897IuLTuivUQwneFlyvjkpXBiyPlO1UPCVJV0_HRdjE7RSsfPDJ4agKClTSzIjynVhQQmn8GHB1k/s320/ty.jpg" width="206" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Okay, I seriously love reading fiction from people in the Bible. I just love it!</div><div style="text-align: center;">As you've probably figured out, Ruth is about....Ruth! It's inspiring, and beautifully told.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I love <i>love stories</i>...love stories that are scripted by God. And you'll love this one! (oh, <i>Boaz</i>!! *sigh*)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Lois has also written many other books about Abigail, Davids wife,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9W4GY2sT5o_dZdGIAvchekvK5WimeqI7HghdnpA1dIf3oFxBGBEMBLcUnjv2eJ17rpglfccG5jWzvBlXgxI_jO6pnZnH6ja_QzfQPelzFXv5Ym9Ziw2bu5sZ0jDrwShvdRQnV5WaYTM/s1600/j.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9W4GY2sT5o_dZdGIAvchekvK5WimeqI7HghdnpA1dIf3oFxBGBEMBLcUnjv2eJ17rpglfccG5jWzvBlXgxI_jO6pnZnH6ja_QzfQPelzFXv5Ym9Ziw2bu5sZ0jDrwShvdRQnV5WaYTM/s1600/j.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Lydia, (from the account told in Acts)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KtdjFyj9R8z5RXUqzlKRP1mfBMAvHGofixjtqK4UIKSpPHirx_o4g97EpRY-7RDHVFzWG1uwByonhtTitT6HfutbCqjur5p_CBPTrMarXWOZU3Ddo0SSEYTVcztLEB3zDvuvQzYSnkE/s1600/64a5aab73b2c_154w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KtdjFyj9R8z5RXUqzlKRP1mfBMAvHGofixjtqK4UIKSpPHirx_o4g97EpRY-7RDHVFzWG1uwByonhtTitT6HfutbCqjur5p_CBPTrMarXWOZU3Ddo0SSEYTVcztLEB3zDvuvQzYSnkE/s1600/64a5aab73b2c_154w.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">(not a love story but still amazing!)</div><div style="text-align: center;">and many other's I have not read like, Mary Magdalene & Hagar (which I am in the middle of reading right now)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well...that's all for know folks!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-59911348195132257772011-03-11T16:40:00.000-07:002011-03-11T16:40:43.671-07:00The Farmer's Wife<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsUCgFK_qQqrl1tsLUQxsEFe8G-5oyJpTDsAgynUWpe0c2DZcbrSccuRYy21kQXi0bR7LyNYEHvbYfN9_hKJ52YNdCHtKJaaMp243K5KTUwoexgx7tOr_T7B-l96izJKzudeoBRxhH3oU/s1600/farming-med.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsUCgFK_qQqrl1tsLUQxsEFe8G-5oyJpTDsAgynUWpe0c2DZcbrSccuRYy21kQXi0bR7LyNYEHvbYfN9_hKJ52YNdCHtKJaaMp243K5KTUwoexgx7tOr_T7B-l96izJKzudeoBRxhH3oU/s320/farming-med.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I deeply desire to be the wife of a farmer.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">To burrow in his embrace until I get warmer.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">To smell his skin; the scent of the earth</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And to capture his smile, oh how much that'd be worth!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Open fields and wondrous sounds</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Of gravel on the road, of treasures being found.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The golden rays would then waltz on my cheek</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And my hardworking farmer, his God he would seek.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I can just feel his strong hands holding on to mine;</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Gazing in his eyes our hands, we'd entwine.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Prancing over fields and strolling barefoot by the corn</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Or watching the sunrise and morning glory being born.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">When my belly grows, and life on the hillside is changed,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'll make a prayer of how I hope my baby loves all of his days.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'll nurture to him to health with the milk of my breast;</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Giving him love, while tenderly watching him rest.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My daughters and I will sow in the garden,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">While my sons follow their dad and try to be like him.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The girls will wear summer dresses, and play with their toys.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And my sons will discover bugs, while trying to be boys.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh how I deeply desire to be the wife of a farmer.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">To witness the happenings of us. We. Him and her.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">To experience with clarity the days of our youth;</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And watch our children grow--our beautiful labor, our fruit.</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"></div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-13232284028689486322011-03-10T10:50:00.000-07:002011-03-10T10:50:22.433-07:00England has two books:<div style="text-align: center;">...the Bible and Shakespeare.</div><div style="text-align: center;">England made Shakespeare, but the Bible made England.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Victor Hugo-</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeaWwh8ImQtejQ7VirrKrDCzJb0BzBCh3SKkx2OajpxRZWo6l_oRPHEjlubDy9U4CdJyLeOrXsfxwBMMbUjOWY9Gs_aKo0X8pS7PKtf8lfcW_TLCsNwgqPNzooGdHjT2VX9fnUfsM0r0/s1600/read1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeaWwh8ImQtejQ7VirrKrDCzJb0BzBCh3SKkx2OajpxRZWo6l_oRPHEjlubDy9U4CdJyLeOrXsfxwBMMbUjOWY9Gs_aKo0X8pS7PKtf8lfcW_TLCsNwgqPNzooGdHjT2VX9fnUfsM0r0/s320/read1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Books have to be heavy because the whole world is inside them."</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Cornelia Funke-</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFujZX0dMqc8WH7JoQkcGRSZZivz47-bGygwGTD_X6rq_GwZww-JsCvNNY4mY_LhpmtB7zburH6PV8Ut_FJ9ei2G7uWHtE-bj9ghgvk9ikv7ZlRcjxUwXe7mmHAG2DKrO6ElaEkE9qbI4/s1600/p2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFujZX0dMqc8WH7JoQkcGRSZZivz47-bGygwGTD_X6rq_GwZww-JsCvNNY4mY_LhpmtB7zburH6PV8Ut_FJ9ei2G7uWHtE-bj9ghgvk9ikv7ZlRcjxUwXe7mmHAG2DKrO6ElaEkE9qbI4/s400/p2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">Books are <em>wonderful!</em></div><div align="center">Full of <span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">knowledge</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">mystery</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">thrill</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">humor</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">sorrow </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">surprises</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">love</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">joy</span></div><div align="center">even <span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">hate.</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Books can make you <em>laugh</em> until you ache & <em>cry</em> until you have to tell yourself that it's only a story.</div><div align="center">Sometimes I think, "Why am I laughing more and crying more due to a story...than I am in my own life?"</div><div align="center">But there's just something about a story!</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">"He is not the best student who reads the most books, but he who meditates the most upon them."</div><div align="center">-Charles Spurgeon-</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">May your life be filled with laughter & books!</div><div align="center">But guess what?</div><div align="center">"A thorough knowledge of the Bible is worth more than a college education."</div><div align="center">-Theodore Roosevelt-</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">-----</div><div align="center">Inspired by this <a href="http://blonde4christ.blogspot.com/2011/03/girl-who-reads.html">reader</a>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-28853869850450196552011-03-05T21:36:00.000-07:002011-03-05T21:36:11.146-07:00The Treasure of a Book!<div align="center">So I was browsing the bookshelf I usually ignore & found incredible books.</div><div align="center">I looked at them & squealed!</div><div align="center">I love books. I think they truly are treasures, right?!</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3Ovd4AIf73A8r7-f1iLlMg5_tGZWuysuPQMADBNRVqVJSZLc9mCiULfLk7QcU5EDEd6k204LqxyloFa9ENeHJ6HuGiaNo3IlkPLkXhITbf_kITQl_PB4LebYf_KCq3oR5D88Ny7glFQ/s1600/1books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3Ovd4AIf73A8r7-f1iLlMg5_tGZWuysuPQMADBNRVqVJSZLc9mCiULfLk7QcU5EDEd6k204LqxyloFa9ENeHJ6HuGiaNo3IlkPLkXhITbf_kITQl_PB4LebYf_KCq3oR5D88Ny7glFQ/s640/1books.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
</div><div align="center"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG_gDk0rvRzh9yisip5IfE7ncdbPksjIp8sElDoFYyChAbdyiPQps3iEeXaBbXm2bvECaW2bsrn3MOC_y5OurxdpdTifVd0C-JCoLlPjCQo8VVRaGX-0xSo5mLsqaXsMBeIqfd0u6pj9k/s1600/2books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG_gDk0rvRzh9yisip5IfE7ncdbPksjIp8sElDoFYyChAbdyiPQps3iEeXaBbXm2bvECaW2bsrn3MOC_y5OurxdpdTifVd0C-JCoLlPjCQo8VVRaGX-0xSo5mLsqaXsMBeIqfd0u6pj9k/s640/2books.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFGRj5gtgCr5dx0_Q2NFD7UTYlf9G2dUW32MR5JccY7HbtRRlOxUw6Yag-T0YoxGUzex2z12-AukZQdhv9Hdj4GE4D9N5cOXYDA_u6h8LRoTfh5bmuLiGOjif7rXQKQd7NdSf6ezYJa0M/s1600/3book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" l6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFGRj5gtgCr5dx0_Q2NFD7UTYlf9G2dUW32MR5JccY7HbtRRlOxUw6Yag-T0YoxGUzex2z12-AukZQdhv9Hdj4GE4D9N5cOXYDA_u6h8LRoTfh5bmuLiGOjif7rXQKQd7NdSf6ezYJa0M/s640/3book.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<span id="goog_1344387196"></span><span id="goog_1344387197"></span><br />
The only problem is...I want to read them all at once!<br />
Here's a cool quote that's SO true!<br />
"There are seventy million books in American libraries, but the one you want is always out..."-Thomas L. Masson <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-54851836930526945312011-02-28T23:04:00.000-07:002011-02-28T23:04:29.993-07:00From The Journal: Singing in the dark<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs8OIUKIgwY5h560C4lnkiA5cmnPeNyf39_9Zc4q9CWDu571K5f0Rx4zO-P9oM91DMxV7wQZ-DzeBkVPE_H1Jbg0g0AfKn7ukHlK1l9duJEqO2wpNgAmEHdB47LudNgsdEskcNqJVpu1Lm/s1600/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFkhGai1IeXFuM3hHcTd0S0htY1hldlEAAAACaWQKAXgAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs8OIUKIgwY5h560C4lnkiA5cmnPeNyf39_9Zc4q9CWDu571K5f0Rx4zO-P9oM91DMxV7wQZ-DzeBkVPE_H1Jbg0g0AfKn7ukHlK1l9duJEqO2wpNgAmEHdB47LudNgsdEskcNqJVpu1Lm/s320/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFkhGai1IeXFuM3hHcTd0S0htY1hldlEAAAACaWQKAXgAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs8OIUKIgwY5h560C4lnkiA5cmnPeNyf39_9Zc4q9CWDu571K5f0Rx4zO-P9oM91DMxV7wQZ-DzeBkVPE_H1Jbg0g0AfKn7ukHlK1l9duJEqO2wpNgAmEHdB47LudNgsdEskcNqJVpu1Lm/s1600/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFkhGai1IeXFuM3hHcTd0S0htY1hldlEAAAACaWQKAXgAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>It's been a long time since I've just...written.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I mean...trust me. My journal does <i>not</i> go untouched. </div><div style="text-align: center;">But sometimes I think my imagination does.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I love forming words and making them beautiful & attractive.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'll read back on my old writings & realize it was not me writing! (know what I mean?)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Tomorrow is March 1st.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And every 1st of the month is always a sorta sad time. </div><div style="text-align: center;">It's unplanned, but usually I write in my journal <i>every </i>1st for some reason. And it's always about the same thing: my future.</div><div style="text-align: center;">January, February, was a feeling of fear. But throughout the month...I'm fine. I'm free.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But why is it always the <i>1st</i> that my heart begins to shake?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Should I go to college?</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Where should I go to college?</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Should I go to a community one or out of state?</div><div style="text-align: center;">-How far should it be?</div><div style="text-align: center;">-What am I even gonna go for?</div><div style="text-align: center;">-What will I be?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Such questions can make a person crazy!</div><div style="text-align: center;">They always overwhelm me...on the 1st of every month.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm serious too, because I have documented proof.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But what I feared about on January 1st, was cleared up & figured out by February 1st.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Isn't that great?! (It doesn't always work that way, btw)</div><div style="text-align: center;">I think it's important to write down all that you're feeling & going through. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Then look back on it later & see how perfectly God took care of it.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My heart loves to sing.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But when the little birdie passes a dark valley...she is just so afraid. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Haha, I can just picture her flapping her wings, sweating, & trying her hardest to tweet while trying to see in the darkness.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>"Faith is the bird that sings when the dawn is still dark."</b></div><div style="text-align: center;">For some reason I remembered that quote from an old art project in the 10th grade.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hmmm. Maybe because it so accurately describes me?</div><div style="text-align: center;">(The part about being in the dark...)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want to sing<i> even</i> in the dark valley!</div><div style="text-align: center;">So we'll see.</div><div style="text-align: center;">My future may be unknown...but my God isn't!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Even though I used to get rained on...I want to start turning that rain upside down & let it take me for a ride!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Kinda like this picture:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyNftKXql4l5PzpQ4NOLIvp8-WxUBtcwc9agN8PcIapU44VAnG3sUCm1c7QTpxs5iuENPAH5bnY8tkVPzc4oWuW4KLdYfCstQEj5pQo3UXA7CvfeoElbbKjqJinz6omQkfKPmsSPvQv4Y/s1600/5253799548_54aa676bd4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyNftKXql4l5PzpQ4NOLIvp8-WxUBtcwc9agN8PcIapU44VAnG3sUCm1c7QTpxs5iuENPAH5bnY8tkVPzc4oWuW4KLdYfCstQEj5pQo3UXA7CvfeoElbbKjqJinz6omQkfKPmsSPvQv4Y/s320/5253799548_54aa676bd4.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-6819667053182523112011-02-01T18:14:00.000-07:002011-02-01T18:14:49.596-07:00Oh, the desire!<div style="text-align: center;">To skate!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTSRRH03osdGaLS4qNU_8F5tnPt6WCzGtp7fDwUwtnlJjqFmhIbYL2t_1z_W5vZTC9PslZBfrYduJyBDdkXChI7QTbIcdgpNwOAzaHzJf2enDl46qXvMa47zjOYEN99zicQV3d6ZgGcCA/s1600/Figure_Skating_1_by_eli_eved.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTSRRH03osdGaLS4qNU_8F5tnPt6WCzGtp7fDwUwtnlJjqFmhIbYL2t_1z_W5vZTC9PslZBfrYduJyBDdkXChI7QTbIcdgpNwOAzaHzJf2enDl46qXvMa47zjOYEN99zicQV3d6ZgGcCA/s320/Figure_Skating_1_by_eli_eved.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want to feel the ice beneath my feet again. Dancing on water that is frozen. Skating to glorious music, in rhyme with my movement. Letting the chilled air whip at my face & turn my nose red. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I want to feel so free again as my skates carve up the ice. I want to spin until I am dizzy, & jump like a fox.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I miss the way I'd feel graceful.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I miss the way people would bump into me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I miss lacing up my white boots.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I miss my foot hitting the rink for the first time that day.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I miss smiling at myself for hitting that move.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I miss just skating in circles.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I miss this.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And now my skates don't fit, and my dream is bigger than <i>ever</i>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-90202154950459481122011-01-28T19:02:00.000-07:002011-01-28T19:02:23.049-07:00A Young Womans Daybook<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">Today is</span></i>.....Friday.</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">Outside my window</span></i>....is a nice scene of one of my favorite getaways.</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><i>I am thinking</i></span>.....more about life.</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">I am feeling</span></i>.....<i>very</i> tired & sick.</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">I am thankful for</span></i>....all 5 senses!</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">I am wearing</span></i>.... P-jays </div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">I am reading</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">......<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Solomon's Song; As You Wish; The Swiss Family Robinson</span></span></span></span></i></div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><i>I am creating</i></span>.....photographs.</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">One of my favorite things</span></i>......playing guitar.</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">For education this week</span></i>.......uh....yeah.</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">Spiritual lesson I'm learning</span></i>.....that worry does nothing :)</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">Godly trait I plan to work on</span></i>.....trusting that God hold my future.</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">Scripture I am memorizing</span></i>......"Does the clay say to the potter, 'What are You making?'" (Isaiah something :)</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><i>I am praying for</i>.....</span>a good friends' step-father.</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">For the rest of the week</span></i>....taking it one step at a time.</div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 17px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><div style="color: black; display: inline !important; text-align: left;"><div style="display: inline !important; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 17px;">Picture I'd like to share</span></i>....</div></div></span></span></span></i></span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 17px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><div style="color: black; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4RqCg3U281x0GrQPv9VIUWskzWOIEH9-mhjwNLmy9DcJ5b1xZEcowjIW9X5Z48kUBLDb9E6OgR11CH1nkIaKlKJHJwGx3BTX_fxK76ouEMCd4n38d-4W5eaDBRjrkCf5ItTc9WcvjijM/s1600/Barefoot+in+the+orchid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4RqCg3U281x0GrQPv9VIUWskzWOIEH9-mhjwNLmy9DcJ5b1xZEcowjIW9X5Z48kUBLDb9E6OgR11CH1nkIaKlKJHJwGx3BTX_fxK76ouEMCd4n38d-4W5eaDBRjrkCf5ItTc9WcvjijM/s400/Barefoot+in+the+orchid.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, summer. I am so ready for you.</div><div style="text-align: center;">{Picture not mine}</div></div></span></span></span></i></span></span></div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-48815601237688358502011-01-25T14:54:00.001-07:002011-01-25T19:15:07.083-07:00The definition of this.<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Joy.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">--></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">God-->Life-->Beauty-->Family-->Friendship-->Love-->Giving-->Receiving-->Dreams-->Iced Tea with lemon.</span></span></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Love.</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-->God-->The Bible-->Family-->Friends-->Random people-->Children-->Enemies-->Life-->You-->Me.</span></span></span></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></b></div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-29492387978883835142011-01-22T21:11:00.000-07:002011-01-22T21:11:53.819-07:00Tell me a story.<div style="text-align: center;">Tell me a story.<br />
<i>Make it interesting & bright.</i><br />
<i>Make it fascinating & beautiful. </i><br />
<i>Make it...lovely.</i><br />
Tell me a story.<br />
<i>Make it dance.</i><br />
<i>Make it whisper in the breeze</i><br />
<i>& make it sweet the the honey of bees.</i><br />
Tell me a story,<br />
<i>but don't forget to make it beautiful.</i><br />
<i>And so, the One who crafted the stars & carefully painted each zebras stripe said,</i><br />
<i>"Alright, I'll tell you a story. But you should know that you've already heard this one."</i><br />
<i>"Oh? How so?"</i><br />
<i>"Well, the story I'm about to tell you...</i><br />
<i>you're living. </i><br />
<i>And yes. I made it beautiful."</i><br />
<br />
</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-72432615199490672902011-01-20T22:26:00.001-07:002011-01-20T22:27:35.206-07:00Extraordinary<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/extra-ordinary/set?.embedder=1689800&.mid=embed&id=27334098" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Extra-ordinary." border="0" force="1" height="300" src="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-set/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFm5uMkp4aDRsNEJHV1dUczNBYk84eGcAAAACaWQKAWwAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg" title="Extra-ordinary." width="300" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">-Waking up to a sweet song play.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Talking for hours with my sister on our way to Grama's.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Photo shoots with nature.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-A happy dog's slobber. (Yes in my mouth practically)</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Trips to put gas in the car.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Sweet sunshine on my face (Yes, <em>that's </em>where dappled sunbeams play =)</div><div style="text-align: center;">-New discoveries outside.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Letting our dog stick her head out the window as we drove to the dollar store.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Watching people.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Realizing that God gives courage.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Prayer & excitement!</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Climbing the roof.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Catching a full moon.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Cooking & cleaning with Gramma.</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Laughter.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">-My day was ordinary in so many ways. Yet when I looked, I found that God truly maked it <span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><em>extra</em>ordinary. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-50477810174640099272011-01-12T12:50:00.000-07:002011-01-12T12:50:46.540-07:00The Key to a Hearts Garden - a story!<div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE_7dLfeJXxhwYFnCFC7W-LlHMzPI76BWKpcfVEMNDGMDLueyZPtBhO5QCcmtRQR6RsiHobYSRNNNqmXuCkfT6iZq0PveSkx3DlCneJyUUk0cWBE2X8D_apGxsJcfE4uqfFyfkn8gdloI/s1600/5d1b5ef1915d014ebc9b5239720a9593-d32h8gz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE_7dLfeJXxhwYFnCFC7W-LlHMzPI76BWKpcfVEMNDGMDLueyZPtBhO5QCcmtRQR6RsiHobYSRNNNqmXuCkfT6iZq0PveSkx3DlCneJyUUk0cWBE2X8D_apGxsJcfE4uqfFyfkn8gdloI/s320/5d1b5ef1915d014ebc9b5239720a9593-d32h8gz.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
As Lilah climbed the tallest tree to get to the roof of her grandparents' old house, she slowly lifted her hands up to the sky. She let her long red hair dance in the wind, and tilted up her pink lips to the sun.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Oh, Lord. I want you to have the key to my hearts garden."</div><div style="text-align: center;">She placed her hands over her heart and closed her eyes. </div><div style="text-align: center;">"I don't want to let anyone sneak in and steal all the flowers. I don't want to <i>let</i> anyone do that. Not anymore. I want my heart to be pure before you--so take the key. I know at the right time you'll bring him to me."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Later that night as Lilah snuggled into her bed in the old attic, her heart felt fresh.</div><div style="text-align: center;">She had a dream that put all her words and desires into pictures:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Way deep into the woods, there was a garden and a white gate wrapped around it. In front of the gate stood a tall, strong man, holding a key.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>This man was so radiant! More radiant than the sun. And he had a smile on his face that was more glorious than a crescent moon. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Inside the garden were different types and colors of flowers. There were pink tulips, white daisies, orange poppys. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>One day, a guy walked up to the garden.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>"May I come in?" He asked the man holding the key. "I want to pick those flowers in there."</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>"Sorry," the man said, "This isn't the garden you're supposed to pick from."</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Then, another guy came up to the guarded gate and just stood there looking around.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>He obviously wanted nothing from that garden.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Another one came over. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>"Can I come in? I want to pick that single white rose way in that back of the garden."</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The man looked at him gently and said, "You've already picked a single white rose. And this one is not for you."</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Finally a young man walked up and appeared to recognize the gatekeeper.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>"Somehow I knew I'd find you here," the young man said. "May I come in now?"</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>The man looked at him as if he'd been waiting for him, and gave him the key. But before he let him enter, he said:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>"You are free to roam and pick. But you must never pick the single white rose. As you can see it is not finished growing. It is not ready. It is not ripe."</i><br />
<i>The young man nodded and smiled, excitedly entering the gate.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>He walked up to a red rose.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>"A rose as read as the hair of my love, a tulip as pink as her lips. And a lovely white rose. White as her heart."</i><br />
<br />
When Lilah awoke from this dream, her weary heart was no longer troubled. She had never felt more free and settled, than the day she gave her true Love the key to her heart.<br />
<br />
------<br />
This came to me out of truth; experience. It's hard to give Him the key, especially when you think you can take better care of your "garden". But like the dream, I don't want any guy who's not my future love to pick all my flowers. Soon, there'll be none left for him!<br />
Know that God is ready to take that key! No matter how many flowers you have--none or all.<br />
<br />
"His mercies never end. They are new every morning."<br />
-Lamenations 3:23-<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?qh=&section=&q=long+hair+blowing#/d32h8gz">picture source here.</a> =)</span></div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-79761502770467702062011-01-05T19:30:00.000-07:002011-01-05T19:30:03.259-07:00A Walton Scene:<div style="text-align: center;"><i>Elizabeth Walton: </i>Daddy?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Mr.Walton:</i> What is it, Elizabeth?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Elizabeth Walton: </i>When I get older, can I marry you?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Mr. Walton: </i>I'm afraid I'm already taken.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Elizabeth: </i>Oh, well, goodnight anyway, Mama.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Liv Walton: </i>Goodnight Elizabeth.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The End ;)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Okay, so I'm not exactly sure those were the exact words, but I'm pretty sure they were.</div><div style="text-align: center;">That Elizabeth has quite a dream.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDibKFz3N1yTZuLRlm4VutNZ6XCMtnbMSaja_TtHJPLtB7FY-ks1xo031Bhbu3fRPwjj7a5mDJhd8PXmZ8vgdErLRaivh6d6F3sdHodpJT9sL5PA8aZ-5swLhQ5WnkoGPhvqVx9P2i058/s1600/Kami-Cotler.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDibKFz3N1yTZuLRlm4VutNZ6XCMtnbMSaja_TtHJPLtB7FY-ks1xo031Bhbu3fRPwjj7a5mDJhd8PXmZ8vgdErLRaivh6d6F3sdHodpJT9sL5PA8aZ-5swLhQ5WnkoGPhvqVx9P2i058/s1600/Kami-Cotler.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-44869177399128943012011-01-01T15:13:00.000-07:002011-01-01T15:13:08.802-07:00For you:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAy91nlrt_Kmz3dUFzFBppsNXNZNz26EpYVEiMgnb_tmTzP46jOORlvC9soDJjVkgsENfL1nJulkN_JewM9boyLCT6GwYiSCbFXanELBf5FYm9OUNyt2aKsLnpd7I0ENGdVkIxupgeYw4/s1600/words.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAy91nlrt_Kmz3dUFzFBppsNXNZNz26EpYVEiMgnb_tmTzP46jOORlvC9soDJjVkgsENfL1nJulkN_JewM9boyLCT6GwYiSCbFXanELBf5FYm9OUNyt2aKsLnpd7I0ENGdVkIxupgeYw4/s400/words.jpg" width="385" /></a></div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-19339601963272513252011-01-01T14:20:00.000-07:002011-01-01T14:20:10.763-07:00Planning.<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Lucida Console', monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">Planning for my future is such an exciting task!</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Lucida Console', monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm prayerfully considering in a tiny whispered ask.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Lucida Console', monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">I can't wait to explore, to dream and to see;</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: 'Lucida Console', monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm just hoping it's as wonderful as the dreams inside of me.</span></span></div></div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-7096729402679805152010-12-30T12:25:00.000-07:002010-12-30T12:25:37.000-07:00Poems for my sister.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5OEpsawGTvwaKjOHdMMAMQ1rHefXOW_UZlf06td9vosMjU-AJK_51XBvxL4Jm2CduE9Vqs55LZcM6u06wQ-CTooV5nIVEta3_dYCle5EkwSuCEQvMdntS5BF3JDLvrfdqj6pvO6_EXM/s1600/me+%2526+ash+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5OEpsawGTvwaKjOHdMMAMQ1rHefXOW_UZlf06td9vosMjU-AJK_51XBvxL4Jm2CduE9Vqs55LZcM6u06wQ-CTooV5nIVEta3_dYCle5EkwSuCEQvMdntS5BF3JDLvrfdqj6pvO6_EXM/s200/me+%2526+ash+003.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">(me left, her right)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><u>My Best Friend, My Sister</u></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Silent prayers: a million and ten;</div><div style="text-align: center;"> My heart was pleading for a very special friend.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Where is this person whom I can share my heart?</div><div style="text-align: center;">This was my plea from the very start.</div><div style="text-align: center;">"She's out there I know it, I just haven't seen,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And the one God had saved is probably a teen."</div><div style="text-align: center;">But what I hadn't noticed was a thing that was wrong,</div><div style="text-align: center;">My friend was right beside me--she wasn't in Hong Kong!</div><div style="text-align: center;">So why was I waiting for a best friend and a mister?</div><div style="text-align: center;">When right beside me was you: my best friend, my sister.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, how lovely your friendship is to me;</div><div style="text-align: center;">Never would I imagined God would let this thing be!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52fzMNOboM4QCIl6t_5At47X9niUXo1cRXeFHw9gWeCbbBZrJayJKQFhRmJEXTnzCkM1X_KEcqDcAuzGhxyM4QZ4PiuQiL5uHBTXCfJnc7TDZSEitGyo4G9xYiSaLr-l86A7o0IshZ7o/s1600/me+%2526+ash+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg52fzMNOboM4QCIl6t_5At47X9niUXo1cRXeFHw9gWeCbbBZrJayJKQFhRmJEXTnzCkM1X_KEcqDcAuzGhxyM4QZ4PiuQiL5uHBTXCfJnc7TDZSEitGyo4G9xYiSaLr-l86A7o0IshZ7o/s200/me+%2526+ash+001.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><u>Do You Remember?</u></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Do you remember the day I would follow you around?</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'd wear all your clothes and all the jewelry I found.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Do you remember the hour I'd run to your room?</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'd admire all your stuff and I'd envy and swoon!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Do you remember all the names you'd call me that morning?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Beans, Pinkerton, Miss Piggy and Georgie!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Do you remember the times we'd act like big meanies,</div><div style="text-align: center;">We'd fight and we'd yell, and we prob'ly called each other weenies.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But the greatest of all was when we declared it to be,</div><div style="text-align: center;">That our friendship was sealed, and it's <i>sacred</i> to me.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8al5CU9v6AnpfbCiXcuUHLQRr-uRAoT_5IKtkzMcPFcS-N3YHzL93OH3TZAQglhuN3uVxNx0Fos-XUz-IWMJC7OwMR4ieSFhHgZ9gOHQ9LHYDP1Bq4dE9bCaM46-0JQIuexTOs0aJlLQ/s1600/me+%2526+ash+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8al5CU9v6AnpfbCiXcuUHLQRr-uRAoT_5IKtkzMcPFcS-N3YHzL93OH3TZAQglhuN3uVxNx0Fos-XUz-IWMJC7OwMR4ieSFhHgZ9gOHQ9LHYDP1Bq4dE9bCaM46-0JQIuexTOs0aJlLQ/s320/me+%2526+ash+002.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My beautiful sister. My forever friend!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">"Savor little glimpses of God's goodness & His majesty, </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">thankful for the gift of them:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">winding pathways through the woods,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">a bright green canopy overhead,</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">and dappled sunshine falling all around."</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">-Unknown-</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">"I don't have to explain anything to my sister...</div><div style="text-align: center;">She's one of the few people who can read my heart."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-86874669082371404392010-12-29T19:42:00.001-07:002010-12-29T19:42:31.888-07:00I am so free to be me!<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/am_so_free_to_be/set?id=26514744'><img alt='I am so free to be me!' title='I am so free to be me!' height='400' width='400' src='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-set/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFmlNbnFicjRUNEJHbzlmbnBUMndEZncAAAACaWQKAWUAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg'/></a><br/><small><a href='http://www.polyvore.com/am_so_free_to_be/set?id=26514744'>I am so free to be me!</a> by <a href='http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/profile?id=1689800'>God'sNoella</a> featuring <a href='http://www.polyvore.com/vintage_inspired_jewelry/shop?query=vintage+inspired+jewelry'>vintage inspired jewelry</a></small><p>"Today you are you, that is truer than true. There's no one alive who is youer than you." -Dr. Suess<br /><br />Max Lucado said something like...be you because you are the only you there is. If you don't bring it (what you have to offer the world), it won't be brought.<br /><br />Lord, help me to be the -me- You created. Not the -me- I created.</p><br /></div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-62021290292613075282010-12-29T16:23:00.000-07:002010-12-29T16:23:23.880-07:00Oh, sweet New Mexico!<div style="text-align: center;">Arizona, I miss you; Yes, I truly do. </div><div style="text-align: center;">But arriving in my city was the best adventure, too.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hours and hours in the car was a breeze;</div><div style="text-align: center;">But arriving to my city was a happy bittersweet.</div><div style="text-align: center;">You see, Arizona, your cactus & heat;</div><div style="text-align: center;">Were just what I needed with your oranges so sweet.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But once my eye caught onto my own city town,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I was happy to listen to the joy of that sound.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Those sweet purple mountains, sitting up above,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Was a gentle reminder of the place that I love.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Those happy giant dirt hills were a reminder to me, </div><div style="text-align: center;">That the sweet New Mexico mountains are really a happy sight to see.</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7166818011629037534.post-12981622188509606182010-12-29T16:05:00.000-07:002010-12-29T16:05:56.624-07:00Oh, sweet Arizona.<div style="text-align: center;">Off to the place of sweet getaways; </div><div style="text-align: center;">making memories from a simple taste of days.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hours of stiff sleeping sleepy-time dreams, </div><div style="text-align: center;">are what help me to open the getaway me's.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">Evergreens stand with their tall bodies still;</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sky's and mountains and sun upon each hill.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Arriving to this place and that place was wild;</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hoping to pick a sweet orange was mild.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I gazed on the one who became my blooded other;</div><div style="text-align: center;">The one who makes tastys, the great chef my brother.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Way deep down under the blue pool of bliss,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Was just as magnificent as a sour lemons kiss.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Then a place of great food which was made in old days,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Let us remember, which I thought in a daze.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Here we were at a shop of the deer,</div><div style="text-align: center;">No room for a pool or a tired girl here.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Two million trees were the sight from the eye;</div><div style="text-align: center;">Simple yet perfect which gave a sweet sigh.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And now it was time to dine in a forest;</div><div style="text-align: center;">The thunder & lightning did not leave us borest.</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Happy Birthday to you," they sang with a smile;</div><div style="text-align: center;">We'll have to cry later, or maybe in a while.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">A kiss from the heat on a soft December night,</div><div style="text-align: center;">left me in a dress that was a soft golden white.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Play me that song, that one of the sona;</div><div style="text-align: center;">Come back again, oh sweet Arizona!<br />
<br />
---------<br />
<br />
This poem is a little taste of what <i>I</i> tasted in Arizona! Just a few things I experienced & saw.<br />
It was a great trip.<br />
I hope you understand the weird meanings behind the words!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Amber Noellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02563765879096178231noreply@blogger.com1