Friday, November 28, 2008

A Thanksgiving Blessing

This morning we got up at 6 and headed down to GR. We didn't get there early, because we didn't know for sure that we were going until my dad woke up.

We first went to JoAnns. They had flannel on sale, and we have LOTS of projects we wanted to get material for. So we stood in line for 2 to 3 hours (my dad and brother did anyway) to get it cut. It wasn't that bad though. Dad dropped us off and went to the bank(I wonder why!!:P). The line was already so long. We got all the material we could carry(there were no more carts) then we went back and got in line while my sister waited for a cart. When my dad got there we left him to wait in line and went back for more material!!:P We got a bunch!!

While they were waiting in line my mom and I were looking at different things. Recently I saw a Crictut but I didn't know what it was. It was just REALLY EXPENSIVE!! Anyways, I'm running out of time, and my hands are frozen(we are trying not to have the heat on so much), so to make a long story short(I'll tell the whole thing later!) the LORD allowed me to get one.

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving!!(I did, My dad shot a deer, I'll write about it later.)

Wednesday, November 26, 2008


~ This was a "to forward" email that you may have recieved, its to good to just sit in my inbox though!~

All we have to do is "BELIEVE" enjoy!
Isaiah 65:24 "Before they call, I will answer"
~This story was written by a doctor who worked in South Africa~
One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do, she died leaving us with a tiny premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator).
We also had no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in.
Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst (rubber perishes easily in tropical climates). "And it is our last hot water bottle!" she exclaimed As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways.
"All right," I said, "put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm."
The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle, and that the baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.
During prayer time, one ten-year old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children.. "Please, God" she prayed, "send us a water bottle. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon."
While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added, "And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?"
As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say,"Amen". I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything, the Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator! Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door
By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the veranda, was a large twenty-two pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children.
Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - that would make a batch of buns for the weekend Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the.....could it really be? I grasped it and pulled it out - yes, a brand-new, rubber hot water bottle. I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, "If God has sent the bottle, He must h ave sent the dolly too!"
Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted!
Looking up at me, she asked: "Can I go over with you and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?"
That parcel had been on the way for five whole months. Packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child - five month s before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it "that afternoon."
"Before they call, I will answer" (Isaiah 65:2 4) This awesome prayer takes less than a minute. When you receive this, say the prayer, that's all you have to do. No strings attached . Just send it on to whomever you want - but do send it on. Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive. There is no cost but a lot of rewards.
Let's continue praying for one another Father, I ask you to bless my friends reading this right now. I am asking You to minister to their spirit at this very moment. Where there is pain, give them Your peace and mercy. Where there is self doubting, release a renewed confidence to work through them. Where there is spiritual stagnation, I ask You to renew them by revealing Your nearness, and by drawing them into greater intimacy with You. Where there is fear, reveal Your love, and release to them Your courage. Bless their finances, give them greater vision, and raise up leaders and friends to support and encourage them. Give each of them discernment to recognize the evil forces around them, and reveal to them the power they have in You to defeat it. I ask you to do these things in Jesus' name.
P.S. Passing this on to anyone you consider a friend will bless you both. Passing this on to one not considered a friend is something Christ would do.
"Do not ask the Lord to guide your footsteps if you're not willing to move your feet.Subject: Fw: FW: Isaiah 65:24 HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY!

All we have to do is "BELIEVE" enjoy!

Saturday, November 22, 2008

My favorite Baby names

Miss Serinity over at Femininty in a Feminist world posted about her favorite baby names and asked others to do it as well. So here are mine.

1. Elizabeth
2. Felisha Jane
3. John
4. Japheth
5. Caleb
6. Jessica
7. Jana
8. Joshua
9. Kathleen
10. Benjamin

These aren't all ones that I would name my children, but they are ones I like to put in my stories:P
Serinity, I am sorry I didn't put this up sooner, my brother is in the hospital, so I haven't had the time!

Friday, November 21, 2008

THE OLD PATHS I liked the old paths, when
Moms were at home.
Dads were at work.
Brothers went into the army,
And sisters got married BEFORE having children! Crime did not pay;
Hard work did;
And people knew the difference. Moms could cook;
Dads would work;
Children would behave. Husbands were loving;
Wives were supportive;
And children were polite. Women wore the jewelry;
And men wore the pants.
Women looked like ladies;
Men looked like gentlemen;
And children looked decent. People loved the truth,
And hated a lie;
They came to church to get IN,
Not to get OUT! Hymns sounded Godly;
Sermons sounded helpful;
Rejoicing sounded normal;
And crying sounded sincere. Cursing was wicked;
Drinking was evil;
And divorce was almost unthinkable The flag was honored;
America was beautiful;
And God was welcome! We read the Bible in public;
Prayed in school;
And preached from house to house.

To be called an American was worth dying for;
To be called a Christian was worth living for;
To be called a traitor was a shame! Sex was a personal word.
Homosexual was an unheard of word,
And abortion was an illegal word. Preachers preached because they had a message;
And Christians rejoiced because they had the
Preachers preached from the King James Bible;
Singers sang from the heart;
And sinners turned to the Lord to be SAVED! A new birth meant a new life;
Salvation meant a changed life;
Following Christ was our reasonable service;Being a preacher meant you proclaimed
the Word of God;
Being a deacon meant you would serve the Lord;
Being a Christian meant you would live for Jesus;
And being a sinner meant someone was praying for you! Laws were based on the Bible;
Homes read the Bible;
And churches taught the Bible. Preachers were more interested in
new converts than new clothes and new cars.

God was worshiped;
Christ was exalted;
And the Holy Spirit was respected. Church was where you found Christians on the Lord's Day,
Rather than in the garden, on the creek bank,
on the golf course, or being entertained somewhere else. I STILL LIKE THE OLD PATHS THE BEST!!AMEN and AMEN!!!!!!"The Old Paths" was written by a retired minister who lives in Tennessee.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

My Mother was Never Born

by Natalie Marie Nyquist
The petite teenage girl looked too delicate to withstand the merciless onslaught of reporter’s questions. Yet her chin was held high as she stepped onto the makeshift platform and stood before the microphone. The crowd quieted as they saw her approach. Like a wave on the ocean, silence spread until the entire room’s attention was focused on the lone speaker.
She was very pretty, with luxurious waist-length brown hair that curled as it fell over her shoulders. Her startling green eyes were filled with a pain and grief so deep that it seemed to pierce the heart of everyone who looked at her. Yet shining through the suffering was a magnetic light of hope that seemed incongruous to the words she must speak. Smoothing a hand down her flowered jumper, she gathered her breath and leaned into the microphone.
“Hello. Thank you all for coming today. It is my hope,” her voice caught, and she had to take a slow, deep breath before continuing. “My hope and prayer is that you will honor my request to represent my story accurately and fully—or not at all.”
“My name is Mara Christina Taylor. I am seventeen, and a senior at Oak Park High school on the east side of the city. Last year my life was completely turned upside-down when my father finally answered the question I’d been asking—who was my birth mother? You see, I had been told about how my mom was infertile, and how for years she and my dad longed for children. Dad said that finally they found a doctor to help them. That was not the whole story. The truth is, they heard of a scientist—I’m not sure who and would rather not know— here in Scotland…” Mara bit her lip as she struggled to say the difficult words. “A scientist who worked with aborted fetuses.
“I guess this is common—I had never heard anything like it, and the very idea was disgusting to me. But my dad said that they were desperate for a way for my mom to conceive, and so they went to him. The guy told them that he was experimenting with harvesting organs from the babies. It was a huge secret because that was illegal at the time.” Mara shuddered, and a tear ran down her cheek.
“I am here today because it is time that the world knew my secret. The evil that has been committed must not be allowed to stay hidden under the veil of ignorance for another day. Even as I speak more horrific experiments and testing continue. I can’t stop it all—only God can do that—but I can tell you what I know, and hopefully someone out there who reads what you write, or sees my picture and hears my story will be moved to assist me in taking action against these atrocities.”
“This scientist had a living baby girl which they aborted from a young teenage prostitute. They proceeded to take the eggs from that baby and implant them into my mother. She carried me to term and then my parents had their baby.” Mara paused to lock eyes with a handful of reporters near the front. “And I knew nothing about this until I was sixteen. I had always wondered why I looked nothing like either of my parents.”
“But no one can ever say that I looked like my mother. Because no one ever saw my mother. She was brutally murdered before she ever had a chance to breath air, or feel the sun on her face. Quite frankly, my real mother was never born.” Mara’s voice grew more impassioned as she continued.
“No one can ever tell me that abortion doesn’t kill children. If it’s just a blob of tissue, then tell me, how am I here? How can a…” she choked on her tears. With a shaky intake of breath Mara raised her head again and forced herself to continue. Her pain-filled voice rang out across the room, now as silent as a tomb. “How can a mass of non-living tissue, an inconvenience like a tumor, have a child? Don’t you see how utterly foolish that is? Each fetus aborted is a complete, living person just as worthy of life as you or me.
“My mother was the human from whose egg I was conceived, though I grew in another woman’s body. One woman who thought she could never have children was able to carry me and give birth. That is a good thing. But it’s never good when it is at the cost of another human life. My mother was killed and her ovaries harvested so that someone else, someone more… ‘deserving’ of life, could have a child.”
She paused for a long moment, her gaze sweeping the room. “Tell me, do two wrongs make a right? Just because a girl was pregnant and did not want to be—does that make her a victim? Does that give her the right to choose to kill another? Does abortion make everything ‘all better’?”
“Most people would say so. It’s their quick and easy answer. But it leads to a lifetime of guilt and regret. This is why I am going to do whatever I can to make others aware of the truth of abortion, and the truth about the research being done with fetuses. It’s disgusting, it’s perverted, and it’s wrong. No one has the right to decide whether another person dies. God says that He alone holds the keys of life and death. Those scientists are trying to play god—and they are doing a lousy job at it!”
Mara stopped, her whole body trembling. “The experimental fetuses they used in the project to conceive me were all named Mara 1, Mara 2, etc. My parents named me after the project, since it was so successful.” Her voice mocked the words.
“I do not know how many babies were butchered before eggs were successfully implanted in my mom, but I do know it was at least several dozen. If the picture that brings to your mind does not scare you—does not make you long for an end to this sin—then not much will.”
She looked down at her hands, folding and unfolding them slowly. “I did not meet Jesus Christ until a few months ago. Before I knew Him as my Lord I was involved in a lot of things I shouldn’t have been. As a result, I am now pregnant.” She eyed her protruding belly ruefully. “I suppose you could already tell that. But what you don’t know is the news I received last week at my check-up. It seems that there is…a problem with my baby. My doctor says that she has Down’s Syndrome, and maybe some other defects. Do you know what she suggested I do about it? I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count. She said it would be best for the baby if I ‘terminated the pregnancy.’”
For long moments Mara let that news sink in; then she leaned forward and whispered her final words to the world. “Never. No one will kill my baby. My baby shall live.”

Note from the Author: While the above story is fictional, the situation is all too real. We would like for such horrors to be only the result of an over-active imagination in some bizarre science fiction movie, but the fact is that these atrocities are being committed around the world today.
Now you know the facts—what are you going to do about it? May I suggest that writing letters to your senators and congressmen is a much more effective method of making a real impact than adding your name to some silly email forward. But we can do more. The truth is out there if we are willing to search for it. Let’s find the real facts on this critical issue of life of the unborn. It is one of the biggest issues today, if not the most important. The novel that led to this article was written by Randy Alcorn, entitled Deadline. He also has an excellent non-fiction title called Pro-life Answers to Pro-choice Questions, which I highly recommend.
Want to do something about these horrors? Volunteer at a crisis pregnancy center, learn more about the facts, but most of all, pray. Our world is corrupt but our God is holy. He is the Rock of sureness in a perverse and uncertain world.

Abortion would be all about a woman’s choice...IF there wasn’t another human being involved with his/her very existence hinging on that woman’s choice. That’s a huge “if,” and what comes after it nullifies what comes before.
-Aaron Wilkinson

Quotes from Randy Alcorn:
If abortion doesn’t kill children, why would someone be personally opposed to it? If it does kill children, why would someone defend another’s right to do it? The position of being personally against abortion but favoring another’s right to abortion is therefore self-contradictory and morally baffling. It’s like saying—exactly like saying—we’re personally against child abuse, but we defend our neighbor’s right to abuse his child if that is his choice.

“Unwanted” describes not a condition of the childbut an attitude of adults.

If children are viewed as expendable before birth,they will be viewed as expendable after birth.

Even if someone believes people are no better than animals,why would they abhor the killing of young animals,while advocating the killing of young children?

Though the chances of a woman’s safe abortion are now greater, the number of suffering women is also greater because of the huge increase in abortions.

Abortion assures that 650,000 females aborted each year do not have control over their bodies.

Visit Randy Alcorn’s website at for more information


Hello! Welcome to my blog. I started this blog because I want to encourage other Young Ladies to serve their Master. I will be posting things here, but it will not be anything personal, and if it is, then I am going to change names or use nick names. Thanks for stopping by, I pray that you will be encouraged by your visit!