tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46518036366092792822024-03-05T09:17:35.161-05:00Life is a Buffet BlogInspirational humor and heart-warming stories to encourage you in your everyday life.Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.comBlogger101125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-14534925297933346892021-05-25T12:54:00.001-04:002021-05-25T12:54:53.388-04:00Eating In The Presence of Enemies<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i>The following post is one of my favorite stories. It's a nod to what used to be one of my favorite restaurants in Portsmouth, VA, The Circle. It's closed now, unfortunately, but I still have many memories of meals after church on Sundays and celebrations with friends and family. I hope you enjoy the story and that it adds some laughter to your day. </i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVYUvJgO3-KggvwTulRK1udpIM3hsczJ-smPRh-biJsUFkN4xhbH9-Wm7IAlqGuQNYTpiCNPKGAFp-ZxClMgzyYEk0NL9kM6eDbUDwX-Y9ulP8-hwnCa6Ry1iWL2jvMa6FBs5kdLYFyrc/s1200/7EAO3BSNA5AD3LR7ZOA2JOOO4I.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="796" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVYUvJgO3-KggvwTulRK1udpIM3hsczJ-smPRh-biJsUFkN4xhbH9-Wm7IAlqGuQNYTpiCNPKGAFp-ZxClMgzyYEk0NL9kM6eDbUDwX-Y9ulP8-hwnCa6Ry1iWL2jvMa6FBs5kdLYFyrc/s320/7EAO3BSNA5AD3LR7ZOA2JOOO4I.jpeg" width="320" /></a></i></div><i><br /></i><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">There’s nothing I enjoy more than going out to dinner to one of my favorite restaurants. There’s one in the city where I used to live named “The Circle Restaurant.”. The food there is absolutely the best. They have a great variety of selections and everything tastes like plain home cooking. On Sundays they have the best buffet in town. You can get anything from roast beef to, of course my favorite, fried chicken. There’s usually a line but it’s well worth the wait. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">One particular Sunday afternoon I remember we decided to stop at the Circle for their buffet. Robbie Lee and I waited patiently in line along with the other hungry guests for about fifteen minutes and then we were finally shown to our table. The front of the restaurant is actually shaped in a somewhat circular fashion with the tables lined up beside one another along the walls in front of a huge window. This is the only thing I don’t really like about the restaurant. The tables are too close to each other. You actually feel like you have to join in on the other party’s conversation because you can hear every word. You’re practically sitting in their laps, but I endure this inconvenience because the food is so good. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Once we told the waitress that we were having buffet, we were off and running to the goodies spread out before us. I skipped right past the salads and made my way to the main dishes, like fish, chicken livers, roast beef, fried chicken and the best stewed tomatoes you ever put in your mouth. I filled up my plate quickly because I was about to pass out from starvation. So I headed back to my table, leaving Robbie Lee still pouring over the salads. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I smiled at the people seated at the table next to ours as I passed them. They were already eating and they gave me just a quick and polite half smile. You know the kind that people flash at you when they have no idea who you are and the smile fades almost before you have a chance to see it. Anyway, I turned quickly to sit down, and once seated, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The people, at whom I had just smiled and who were earlier casually eating their dinner, now had glasses, plates and food turned upside down on them and all across the once nice white table cloth. I thought to myself, “I wonder what could have happened to their table in such a short time. They looked fine when I smiled at them earlier, but now their whole table is in a disaster.” Then I noticed that they were glaring at me. “Why are they staring at me with such indignation? I didn’t do anything.” Suddenly it dawned on me. My pocketbook had a long strap on it and, apparently, as I swung around to sit down, my pocketbook swung across their table, destroying everything in sight. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I’m so sorry. Please, let me help you clean up,” I cried. My face felt like it was about to explode from embarrassment. Everyone was staring now. “I’ll be glad to pay for any dry cleaning bills you might have.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Please, just leave us alone. We’ll take care of everything,” one of the ladies replied. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I took my seat again, but I didn’t know what to do with myself. After all, they were seated right next to me. Of course, Robbie Lee was still lingering up at the buffet table, chatting with someone, not knowing that her sister was causing enough chaos out here to get us thrown out on our heads. “I wish she’d hurry up and come back to the table so I won’t have to endure this embarrassment alone,” I whispered under my breath. But Robbie Lee continued to linger over the food, chatting away. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Are you sure there’s nothing more I can do for you?” I pleaded, wanting them to let me do something to make up for the mess I had made. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“No, please. Just leave us alone,” the woman again requested, looking at me like she wanted to knock me down in the middle of the room and beat me to a bloody pulp. So I decided it would be best to leave her be. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I tried to begin eating, but it was so difficult with the whole restaurant staring and pointing. Finally, Robbie Lee came and sat down in front of me. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Hey, what happened to them? Was there a tornado or something?” Robbie Lee said loudly. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">The people at the next table just glared in my direction. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Shhhh! I did that. I destroyed their entire table with my pocketbook. I’m so humiliated.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“You did it? Oh, no. Can we do anything to help you?” Robbie Lee blurted out to the woman who had already given me a threatening look if I ever suggested that again. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Robbie Lee, be quiet! They don’t want our help. Let’s just eat and get out of here, please,” I said, hiding my face with my hands. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">We both tried to eat, but it felt like the whole world was watching us. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Your face is really red,” Robbie Lee pointed out. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Thank you, but I realize my face is very red because it feels like it’s on fire. Can we talk about something else, please?” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“OK, guess who I ran into waiting in the buffet line?” Robbie Lee asked, quickly changing the subject. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Who?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Sherry. You remember her. I went to high school with her. She was telling me she’s married now and they live in Longwood homes.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Longwood homes?” I said louder than I meant to. “Who’d she marry, a millionaire?” I asked, laughing out loud. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Now Robbie Lee’s face was beet red. “No,” she said in a hushed tone. “She married the man sitting right next to you.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">As Robbie Lee pointed at the man right beside me who was now staring at me even harder, I tried my best to sink underneath the table. I wished the napkin had been bigger so I could cover myself up in it and just disappear from sight. But I couldn’t. I just tried not to catch his eyes as I shoveled my food into my mouth to keep me quiet. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">But then something terrible happened. Robbie Lee got the giggles and she passed them along to me. Every time we looked at each other, we would just lose it. The people next to us were getting madder and madder because they thought we were laughing at them. I kept trying to explain in between our bursts of laughter that we weren’t actually laughing at them, but they weren’t buying it. Robbie Lee and I finally just gave up, asked for our checks and left. We screamed in laughter all the way home. I was so humiliated, but at the same time the whole thing was so comical.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">If nothing else, I sure learned a lesson from that experience. Now when I go out to dinner, I always carry just a small purse in my hand, I make no sudden moves and I never look the other person in the eye. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 37.33333206176758px;">JOHN 9:25 <o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 37.33333206176758px;">I WAS BLIND, BUT NOW I SEE </span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 37.33333206176758px;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 37.33333206176758px;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Everything in life is not so easily seen. I mean to say, there are times when we don’t have all of the pieces to the big picture and we slam right into the unexpected. It’s usually right at the time we think we have life on a string and things seem to be going our way. Maybe we get cocky and careless. We forget to look both ways, or to pay closer attention, or to pray or read our bibles. We fail to heed the warning signs and the next thing we know, we’ve been hit head on by an unidentified flying object. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Never let yourself get to the place in your life that you think you have all the answers, or that you’re too good to take the wise counsel of a Godly friend. If you become too comfortable in your life style, and become lazy or too relaxed to pay needed attention to the spiritual details, you may find yourself heading down the wrong track and before you realize it, you’ve come face to face with something too big for you to get around. You can be stopped dead in your tracks while running on the fast lane. Don’t let it happen to you. Take the time to read the Word and to find some quiet time with God. Nurture your spiritual life so when the time comes you’ll recognize the warning signs along the way. Then, instead of crashing directly into life, you’ll be guided by the Holy Spirit around those obstructions in the roadway. You’ll have a clearer vision of where you’re going and the best way to get there. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i>(Excerpt from Life is a Buffet So Save Room for Dessert: All rights reserved.)</i></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br clear="all" style="break-before: page;" /></span></p>Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-27964539278581135582021-03-30T12:32:00.003-04:002021-03-30T12:58:04.663-04:00My Interview on Morning Moments<p>I recently had the privilege of being interviewed by Andy Kirkendall on his Morning Moments program. It was loads of fun with laughs and learning about stepping out of your comfort zone. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnpmtZHWJ0qmsjmKHZlKJKlvOsAQmaYIjYY-jnkLHCZSkGPswliw6Rbr8DUxwE_JA2EN1ai8UOVCXpDCHTFjt377jHLjMUMlhfcl5fxoASELopZcbj8CJlkLiBHVmu4Nb-NUIYzoDPm_A/s2048/IMG_0377.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnpmtZHWJ0qmsjmKHZlKJKlvOsAQmaYIjYY-jnkLHCZSkGPswliw6Rbr8DUxwE_JA2EN1ai8UOVCXpDCHTFjt377jHLjMUMlhfcl5fxoASELopZcbj8CJlkLiBHVmu4Nb-NUIYzoDPm_A/w240-h320/IMG_0377.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/bWYqKqwyGS4" target="_blank">Check out my interview on Morning Moments by Andy Kirkendall</a><br /></p>Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-19719377301169892432021-02-19T13:30:00.003-05:002021-02-19T14:33:59.449-05:00Is It Hot In Here to You?<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in;"><span> <span> <span> </span></span></span>Menopause is a trying time for a woman and everyone else around her. It’s a time when mood changes, hot flashes, irritability and emotions all clash together at once and create, “The Change of Life Monster.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I remember going shopping in a mall with my sister, Robbie and our mom one Saturday. It was cold outside and I had worn a sweater with a t-shirt underneath. While we were looking around I started to feel my internal oven come on and the heat rising from my feet and slowly creeping up over my entire body. In the meantime, Robbie found a pair of pants she liked and called me over to take a look at them. She held them up for me to see and I told her they looked fine as I tugged at my sweater. She stood in front of a mirror, trying to decide if she wanted to go into a fitting room and try on the pants. She turned from side to side admiring them from every angle. Mom was nearby giving her opinion as well. As I waited, sweat began to roll down the back of my neck and the temperature from my internal oven had now reached an all time high. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">While Robbie and Mom discussed whether or not she should try on the pants I lost complete control right there in the store. “JUST TRY ON THE PANTS FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE,” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “WHY DO YOU HAVE TO KEEP LOOKING AT THEM IN THE MIRROR? TRY ON THE STUPID PANTS ALREADY! THAT’S THE ONLY WAY YOU’RE GOING TO KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BUY THEM! DO SOMETHING! AT LEAST WALK TOWARD THE FITTING ROOM. HOW LONG DO WE HAVE TO STAND HERE IN THIS HOT, UNCOMFORTABLE STORE AND STARE AT THESE UGLY PANTS? HUH? HOW LONG? IS IT HOT IN HERE TO YOU? AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO FEELS LIKE SHE’S GOING TO EXPLODE IN ABOUT IN A MILLION PIECES? LOOK, EITHER BUY THE DUMB PANTS OR MOVE ON! WE CAN’T STAND HERE ALL DAY!”</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> Once I finally came to my senses, I realized Mom and Robbie were clinging to each other, holding on for dear life. They were staring at me like I had turned into the “Incredible Hulk” right before their eyes. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I’m not getting these pants,” said Robbie, quickly hanging them back on the rack. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“OH YES YOU ARE, BABY!” I screamed again. “DON’T TELL ME WE SPENT ALL THIS TIME ADMIRING THESE DUMB PANTS AND NOW YOU’RE NOT EVEN GOING TO TRY THEM ON!” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I took the pants off the rack and threw them back at Robbie. Mom took a precautionary step backwards. Then I got about two inches from Robbie’s face and yelled. “TAKE THE PANTS AND GO TO THE FITTING ROOM AND TRY THEM ON! NOW! </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Robbie scurried off to the fitting room looking like the cowardly lion when the Wizard of Oz screamed at him to GO! Mom headed off behind her, not wanting to be left alone with me. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"> “AAAH!” I screamed, tugging at the neck of my sweater. “WHY IS IT SO HOT IN HERE?”</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I ran to the nearest store exit, pulling off my sweater as I went. I stepped outside into the freezing weather wearing only a short-sleeve t-shirt and breathed a sigh of relief. As I stood there, holding my sweater in my hand, people were rushing to get in out of the cold. They all looked at me as if I was crazy; everyone, that is except one woman. As she was going inside she caught my eye and smiled as if to say, <i>I feel your agony, honey.</i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">When I finally cooled down and went back inside, Robbie and Mom were standing there waiting for me. Robbie was holding a bag with the pants, which she had quickly purchased while I was outside. They were both staring at me, trying to figure out whether or not it was safe to ride home with me. I felt badly about how I had acted earlier, so I apologized to them and asked if they wanted to go and get a cup of coffee. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“NO!” They both shouted at the same time. I guess they didn’t want to take a chance on me drinking a hot beverage for fear the monster would reappear. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">It was very quiet in the car as we drove back home. A song came on the radio and tears started to form in my eyes. The next thing I knew I was blubbering. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Are you okay?” asked Robbie. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I’m all right,” I sobbed. “It’s just such a really sad song.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Robbie looked at me. “It’s ‘Monday, Monday’ by the ‘Mamas and the Papas’. You’ve heard it a thousand times. It’s not that sad.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I snapped my head to look at her, “WELL IT’S SAD TO ME, OKAY?” Nothing else was said after that. Robbie just left me to my blubbering for the rest of the drive home. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">After some coaxing from my family I decided o see my family doctor and discovered I wasn’t going crazy after all, but I was going through a change. The doctor asked me a lot of questions and it seemed like she had been following me around for the last six months, observing all of my symptoms. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Do you cry easily?” the doctor asked. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yes,” I answered. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Do you suddenly get very hot for no apparent reason?” she asked. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yes, I do,” I answered again. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">And so it went with me answering yes to every question. My body was changing and I wasn’t aware of what was going on inside of me. It was actually comforting to find out I wasn’t losing my mind. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">After much discussion the doctor and I agreed on a prescription to help ease the symptoms. My family calls them my “Happy Pills.” Although I still suffer with some symptoms, the hot flashes are not as severe and I’m sleeping a little better. I’ve managed to calm the “Change of Life Monster” to a more manageable “Sometimes Irritable and Occasionally Emotional with just a Splash of Hot Flashes Kind of Woman.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">All through our lives we experience change. Our emotions are up and down. Some days we feel good and, on others, we feel bad. We experience happiness and, unfortunately, great sadness at various seasons of our lifetime. That is why it is so important to not be led by how we feel at any given moment or to make decisions based on our emotions. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Hebrews 13:8 says, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” It is better to be led by Christ than by our constantly shifting and changing feelings. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Women especially need to heed this warning because we are more emotional than men and feelings play a big role in our lives. Remember who you are in Christ instead of giving into your emotions by making life-altering decisions without trusting God to give direction and guidance. Trust the God who “does not change like shifting shadows,” as it says in James 1:17. Make your emotions the caboose, not the engine. <o:p></o:p></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br clear="all" style="break-before: page;" /></span></p>Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-55312463390839635552021-02-02T13:25:00.000-05:002021-02-02T13:25:17.289-05:00Be Careful What You Ask For<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><br />I’ve always been somewhat of a computer nerd. I like keeping up with the latest and the greatest in automation. If it makes life easier, I like to use it. But my sister, Robbie, is not so keen. She uses a computer all day long and has an updated smart phone. However, if anything goes wrong with any of her devices she comes running to me for help. She doesn’t want details about what went wrong. She just wants me to fix it and let her get on with whatever she was doing. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">One day I decided we needed to update the internet and router in our home because we weren’t getting the speed we needed. So I called our internet provider and explained what I needed. The company informed me that I needed to purchase a new router and a more up to date modem box. As we talked, the person helping me asked if the internet account was in my name. As it happened, it was set up in Robbie’s name years ago. Usually I just say I’m Robbie to avoid any chance of putting Robbie on the phone with any sort of technical person. She just glazes over and, in the end, when you ask her questions about the conversation she just gives you a blank look. However, for some reason during this call I had already said my name. The person I was speaking with insisted on talking to the person whose name was on the account. <o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyzWMDuMOIXnaglGObVaYqAUUfXmGopyNsFdvf0FhCn4t9Cf5pDw6pPmvZAki0uoLqSNoh6BYTVdFFLjaZCroRDwXXTYVAz0CVT2kunJ2WmcC_9-FrqGlpxxz0-b0W9RnT_TLgwIKF5iI/s242/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="208" data-original-width="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyzWMDuMOIXnaglGObVaYqAUUfXmGopyNsFdvf0FhCn4t9Cf5pDw6pPmvZAki0uoLqSNoh6BYTVdFFLjaZCroRDwXXTYVAz0CVT2kunJ2WmcC_9-FrqGlpxxz0-b0W9RnT_TLgwIKF5iI/s0/images.jpeg" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">I put the person on hold and told Robbie she had to speak to them herself. I explained that we needed an updated router and modem box. She only needed to let the person on the phone know I had her permission to update the equipment.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">As I handed the phone to Robbie she had this unusual look of confidence. She even winked at me as if to say, “don’t worry, I’ve got this.” This worried me. Now don’t get me wrong. Robbie has plenty of knowledge and confidence in various areas. It’s just that computers is not one of them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">As Robbie began to talk I found myself holding my breath. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">“Hello, this is Robin Boyette,” Robbie began. “I’m calling because we need a box of Imodium. Then she turned and winked at me with a confident smile. My heart sank. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">“Not Imodium!” I shouted. “We need a new modem box!” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">Robbie’s face turned a very bright shade of red. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">“Um, could you just put your sister back on the phone, please?” the woman on the phone asked.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">Robbie reluctantly handed the phone back to me. “She wants to talk to you,” she said.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">I took the phone and asked if she could please let me put her on hold for just a moment. Then I just lost it. I fell on the floor laughing so hard I didn’t think I would ever recover. “Imodium!” I kept repeating in between bouts of hysterical, uncontrollable laughter. I was incapable of talking on the phone, yet I finally found a way to control myself to finish the conversation. The woman on the other end kept it together and was very professional and polite, although I could sense a big smile on her face as she spoke. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">When I finally got off the phone I thought how fortunate it is that we don’t always get what we ask for in life. I could just imagine a giant box of Imodium arriving at our front door or the cable company wondering why these two old ladies were calling them for a box of Imodium?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">A lot of times we pray and ask God for things we believe we absolutely need or want, but later we are so happy he didn’t deliver exactly what we asked for or when we thought we needed it.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">God knows us better than we know ourselves. Thank goodness he looks at our hearts and he sees our future. So he knows better than anyone what we need and what we don’t need. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><i>“And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ, Jesus.” Philippians 4:19 (NIV)</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">God has promised to meet all of our needs. So when we pray and repeatedly ask God for something that just doesn’t seem to come, we can take heart in knowing he would provide it if we really needed it. Perhaps it’s not the right time or you only think you need something. God sees the bigger picture and is able to supply all our needs. We just have to trust him to know what is best. Take comfort in that knowledge. Otherwise, you could end up with a whole case of Imodium. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria, serif; margin: 0in;">(Excerpt from "Life is a Buffet But What is the Recipe? by Polly D. Boyette. All rights reserved. Copyright 2020 by Polly Boyette.)</p>Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-10567393604566962272021-01-05T15:06:00.001-05:002021-01-14T13:58:47.693-05:00Start Your Day Off With Laughter!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_dylJ8Zd4wHDWCvkLACsmDoVqqIf7MvUM8YfGRvyMKmdXPnQJ07ltknK4X55nv14mybvP2e5diMfsLDk6JYSmVDspqB1GgxNxIsdP-Cdo1AsW9C9JffkxdlkbZBVwPAJTCLlCJCsKM64/s1500/614l1J8u3UL.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_dylJ8Zd4wHDWCvkLACsmDoVqqIf7MvUM8YfGRvyMKmdXPnQJ07ltknK4X55nv14mybvP2e5diMfsLDk6JYSmVDspqB1GgxNxIsdP-Cdo1AsW9C9JffkxdlkbZBVwPAJTCLlCJCsKM64/s320/614l1J8u3UL.jpeg" /></a></div>We're pleased to announce Polly's new book, "Life is a Buffet But What is the Recipe?" This book is guaranteed to start your year off with a smile, or better yet, laughing out loud. <p></p><p>Have you ever wondered if there is a secret recipe for life but you just haven't discovered it yet? "Life is a Buffet But What is the Recipe?" shares my recipe for living the best life God has planned for you, even when you are facing unexpected events or a difficult season.</p><p>This book is filled with humorous stories and simple biblical teachings to illustrate there is a recipe for life and it also reminds us to look for humor in everyday life.</p><p>"Life is a Buffet But What is the Recipe?" is currently available for purchase on Amazon in paperback and e-book formats. It will also be available for direct purchase through us beginning January 18th, 2021. If you're interested in purchasing copies, just contact us with your information and whether or not you'd like your book(s) signed by Polly Boyette.</p><p>Start your day off with laughter!</p><p><br /></p>Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-57914129477225347372018-09-13T15:28:00.000-04:002018-09-13T15:28:10.148-04:00When One Screams, We All Scream!<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
Robbie and I used to be on a team at our church that provided meals to families going through difficult seasons like illness or injury. It’s so rewarding to just take the focus from yourself and your own problems. </div>
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I remember I had prepared a meal for a woman in our church who was going through treatments for cancer. It seems like a small thing to do for someone battling cancer, but she had a family with young children so it was just one less thing she had to worry about.</div>
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I cooked a large chicken potpie that would feed her whole family. Robbie and I delivered it to them early that evening. We spoke briefly to the family and let them know we were standing with them in prayer and went on our way back to the car. We smiled and waved at a couple of the kids looking out the window at us as we got into our car. I got in first on the driver’s side and then unlocked the door for Robbie to get in. However, as soon as Robbie got into the car I saw a huge brown spider just sitting on her shoulder. I guess he decided to hitch a ride to somewhere he really needed to go but there was no way I was going to give him a lift anywhere.</div>
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I have to tell you, I hate spiders, bugs, snakes and any kind of creepy, crawly thing. I know God created them, if for no other reason but to watch me run away screaming, waving my arms in the air. I lose full control when I’m in the presence of these creatures and anything is bound to happen. </div>
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As soon as I saw the gigantic spider perched on Robbie’s shoulder I let out a scream that could be heard throughout the neighborhood. Robbie, without actually knowing why, also let out a huge scream. She didn’t understand why we were screaming, but she assumed something bad was happening and so she joined in the scream fest immediately. </div>
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My first instinct is usually to run away when I see a spider, but as I was in the car and eyeball to eyeball with the hairy beast, I decided to be brave and fight. So I used what was in my hand at the time, the car keys, and started beating the spider as hard as I could. This made Robbie start screaming even louder. She knew something terrible was threatening us, but she wasn’t sure what.</div>
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As I steadily whacked away at Robbie’s shoulder, she began to grab the car handle to escape, but in all of the excitement I had hit the childproof lock on the door. She was trapped in the car with a mad woman who was beating her with car keys. No matter how hard she pulled on the door handle the car door wouldn’t open. </div>
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Now you have to imagine how all of this looked from outside the car, specifically to the neighbors staring out the window at us. Here we had just delivered a meal to them, told them we were praying for them, smiled and waved. Then, as soon as we got in the car, I started screaming and beating Robbie with the car keys. Robbie is screaming and trying to get out of the car as if she’s trying to escape a monster. What were they thinking about us? </div>
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Finally, the car door somehow opened for Robbie and she jumped out of the car, but I also jumped out of the car and chased her around the car. I wanted to make sure the spider was dead, baby. At this point the neighbors were locking their door to make sure I didn’t take a run at them. It’s a wonder they didn’t call the police and tell them a mad woman was on the loose chasing another woman around the car. They probably thought I was trying to kill her.</div>
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Suddenly I came to my senses and stopped beating Robbie with the keys. The spider was nowhere to be found in or out of the car. Of course, by now he was obliterated to a million pieces. He was no more. The threat was gone and the area had been secured.</div>
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Robbie and I got back in the car, waved goodbye to the family once again, because they were all staring out the window at us now, and headed home. The next day when Robbie awoke she walked into the living room holding her shoulder.</div>
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“I’m so sore,” she said.</div>
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Then she remembered she was sore because she had been beaten with car keys the day before.</div>
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“Do me a favor,” said Robbie. “The next time you see a spider, just run away. Don’t try to destroy it, especially if it’s anywhere on or near me.”</div>
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I apologized but I knew I wouldn’t be able to accommodate Robbie’s request. Spiders must be destroyed on sight. There’s just no other solution.</div>
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The spider was certainly an unexpected part of our day. He just appeared out of nowhere and changed a quiet, peaceful evening into chaos and terror. Life can change quickly and so can our circumstances. We have to be battle ready at all times. When the enemy pops up in the middle of our day we have to be prepared to take him out without hesitation.</div>
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<i>“God is strong, and he wants you to be strong. So take everything the Master has set out for you, well-made weapons of the best materials. And put them to use so that you will be able to stand up to everything the devil throws your way. This is no afternoon athletic contest that we’ll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death right to the finish against the devil and all his angels.” Ephesians 6:10 (MSG) </i></div>
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We must always be prepared to do battle with the enemy because he can show up at any given time, especially when you’re doing something for God. His whole aim and purpose is to kill, steal and destroy. But if we determine that we will battle through our circumstances, problems, and unexpected events in life, we will have a reward in the end that will make it all worthwhile.</div>
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<i>“Here’s the reward I have for every conqueror, everyone who keeps at it, refusing to give up: You’ll rule the nations, your Shepherd-King rules as firm as an iron staff, their resistance fragile as clay pots. This was the gift my Father gave me; I pass it along to you—and with it, the Morning Star!” Revelation 2:26 (MSG)</i></div>
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Don’t back down or give up when hardships or unexpected interruptions occur in your journey. Fight back with the weapons you’ve been given. Make sure you know and understand who you are in Christ. Make no mistake. We are battling from a place of victory. We’ve already won and that makes the daily battles even easier to fight. And don’t forget. God fights right along side of you. You are not fighting alone. When you feel like you are weak and can no longer stand against the enemy, don’t fret. God will fight your battles for you. He is strong in our weakness.</div>
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Don’t let the enemy get a foothold in your life and hitch a ride on your journey. Be strong and courageous. Fight back!</div>
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Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-41512741693917366782016-10-13T12:00:00.001-04:002016-10-13T12:00:22.285-04:00Excuse Me, But Do You Drive a White SUV?<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
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Did you ever have one of those
mornings? The kind that seems to start off well, but then goes downhill from
there? That’s what happened to me one Sunday morning while I was serving at
church. </div>
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I’ve been attending my church for
23 years. If it’s Sunday morning, I’m usually pulling into the parking lot
around 8:30 am and heading in to serve on a team. On this particular morning I
was serving as a greeter, one of my favorite jobs. I love being the first
person to smile and say good morning to someone who may or may not actually be
having a good morning. It sets the tone for the rest of the service for that
person entering the doors of the church. They see a smiling face, and
hopefully, that encourages them to smile, even if it’s a struggle. So to me,
it’s a very important job. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLN3VSb_2cn9si3_db3X8bxwf4tWPjZdLxeUmR0Uf2N1o1BXtX1fNQ51NTCKq_7oFaT4O74rD09x_KO8bpQ7rMBZv5Ls5Czhnf2R6n36LdEu_9hJxjdZSQaWdu8rG1jlCMjP6KxMlPy4/s1600/hondacrv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLN3VSb_2cn9si3_db3X8bxwf4tWPjZdLxeUmR0Uf2N1o1BXtX1fNQ51NTCKq_7oFaT4O74rD09x_KO8bpQ7rMBZv5Ls5Czhnf2R6n36LdEu_9hJxjdZSQaWdu8rG1jlCMjP6KxMlPy4/s320/hondacrv.jpg" width="320" /></a>I’m not a morning person at all. I
never have been. I’m a night person. I come alive around 4 pm. It’s my favorite
time of day. So when I have to start off my day early, I’m usually rushing to
arrive on time. My eyes may be open when I arrive, but inside I may be sound
asleep. On this particular morning I was rushing a bit as I pulled into the
church parking lot. Because, as greeters, we stand on the doors through part of
the worship service we have to grab seats before service starts. Robbie and I
were discussing how many seats to save for our friends. Because we arrive early
to church we are the official “seat savers.” You may be one of these too.
Sometimes we get a last minute text asking us to save someone a seat, so it can
be a challenge to decide how many we should save, do we have something we can
use to save seats, etc. So as we were getting out of the car, Robbie and I were
deep into discussing how many jackets should we grab from the back of the car
to use for saving seats. Apparently there was some disagreement about seats
that morning, I’m not quite sure, but I know it was the topic of the hour.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
We finally made a decision and
walked inside the church and Robbie scurried off to save the seats. I assigned
this job to her because she does it so well. I ran off to get into place to
begin greeting those arriving for the morning church service. Once Robbie got
the seat saving task taken care of, she too ran to stand on her assigned door
to begin greeting. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
After about 10 minutes or so a lady
in our church walked up to me and asked, “Do you drive a white SUV?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“Yes,” I answered. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“Someone just told me you left your
car running in the parking lot.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
This is one of those moments when
you don’t quite grasp what the other person is saying. So I just gave her a
blank stare before answering.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“Did you say my car is running? You
mean like, right now it’s running?” I asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“Yes,” she responded. “I’ve done
that before. Is it a keyless starter?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“Um, no it’s not,” I answered. I
was still standing at the door in disbelief.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“Maybe you’d better go and check on
it,” she said. “I’ll stand on your door while you go.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“Oh, OK. Thanks! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
I took off running to where Robbie
was greeting. Why, I do not know. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“Robbie, do you have the keys to
the car?” I asked. “Apparently we left the car running in the parking lot.
Quick, give me the keys so I can go turn it off.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Now this statement made absolutely
no sense, which Robbie was happy to point out to me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“Um, if the car is running the keys
must still be in the car. I wouldn’t have them,” Robbie cleverly responded.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
With this revelation, I dashed out
of the church past people laughing and pointing. Apparently, word had spread
quickly about our running car. I guess we were the only ones who were not aware
we had forgotten to turn off the car when we jumped out that morning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Robbie decided to take off running
behind me to see for herself. There we were; running like maniacs to the
parking lot, hair flying, mouths open, arms waving. We were a sight to behold.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
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When I arrived at the car I was
praying the door wasn’t locked. (I have also left a car running with the keys
locked inside, but that’s another story.) Fortunately, the door was not locked
and I could get inside to turn off the motor. But then I noticed something
else. The windshield wipers were running as well. However, it wasn’t raining.
How or why I ended up turning on the windshield wipers, I have no idea. It was
a mystery.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
How could two of us walk away from
a running car, with the windshield wipers flipping back and forth and neither
of us notice at all? What’s two times zero? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
I was speechless. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
We went back inside to resume our
greeting jobs, while others laughed and pointed at us for the rest of the
morning. Apparently, one of the parking lot attendants noticed the running car,
told a security person who told a woman who knew we drove a white SUV. So a lot
of people knew before we did and it made for an entertaining moment when two
frantic ladies bolted out of the church in a sheer panic, running to rescue our
car. We had a good laugh ourselves. It was just one more of those funny things
we could add to our list of embarrassing moments. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Have you ever had one of those
moments of forgetfulness? You get busy or your mind is on a hundred other things
and your brain starts operating on cruise. You actually forget to do the basic
things that you do every day, like turn off the engine to the car. These
moments can be hilarious, but they can also be dangerous. Sometimes we can get
so busy we forget the one we serve; we forget God’s commands and we forget to
trust him for our needs and desires.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“Good friend, don’t forget all I’ve
taught you; take to heart my commands. They’ll help you live a long, long time,
a long life lived full and well.” Proverbs 3:1-2 (MSG)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Forgetting some things can be
harmless, but when we forget to put God first and to trust him for our needs,
then we are treading on dangerous ground. Remembering God and acknowledging him
in all things is the key to a long, well-lived life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
We spend so much time trying to
figure out how to live the best life and to provide the best life for our
family by staying busy, piling on more and more, focusing on minor things and
forgetting about the major things in life. But none of these are the answer to
an abundant life. Keeping God the center of your life is the only answer. If we
remember him, he will always remember us and provide for us. </div>
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A car left running in the parking
lot isn’t taking you anywhere. You have to get behind the wheel and put it in
gear. You have to let the car do what it is designed to do, take you places.
Having God in your life, but never letting him operate in your life is just as
useless. Allowing God to be in the center of your life will take you places you
never dreamed you’d go. You can’t afford to forget about him.</div>
Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-87716730124807652632016-10-03T10:47:00.000-04:002016-10-03T10:48:21.606-04:00A New Season<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve had many seasons in my life; some wonderful and some I
thought would never end. Sometimes I felt God was right beside me and other
times I thought he had forgotten all about me. We all experience these
different, ever-changing seasons. They are part of life. The truth is God’s
presence doesn’t change. He is always right there beside us, but we may not
always realize it at the time. Often we don’t realize how present God was in
our season until it passes. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUe9pcYZJ6jq8aJPzFYGs9J3DBSLF_5yUGtKLZMocp_7oSa2dC-5sbGoHbUhkRYojB-GL-F83djD6KaMgbHxtKsTBo_UkGbHho4EebZ84fI1nPhuEWGR9_bvjiuA4QCbILnxiRPxyxyKk/s1600/IMG_7943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUe9pcYZJ6jq8aJPzFYGs9J3DBSLF_5yUGtKLZMocp_7oSa2dC-5sbGoHbUhkRYojB-GL-F83djD6KaMgbHxtKsTBo_UkGbHho4EebZ84fI1nPhuEWGR9_bvjiuA4QCbILnxiRPxyxyKk/s320/IMG_7943.jpg" width="212" /></a>We experienced a very difficult season that I thought would
never end. My sister, Robin and I took care of our mom for 25 years. She lived
with us so she was right smack dab in the middle of our lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She slowly developed dementia and caring
for her became more and more difficult. Sometimes she would be an angel and
other times she would say very hurtful things to us. I didn’t realize at the
time that it was the disease and not Mom saying those things. I took it
personally and really struggled with her stinging words. I would have conversations
with God, telling him I didn’t believe she even loved us any more, even though
we did everything possible to care for her. I guess I just vented to him
instead of praying, but he was silent most of the time. I’m not even sure what
I wanted to hear him say, but he just let me pour out my heart to him every
night.<attachment webkitattachmentpath="/Users/deboyette/Pictures/Photos Library.photoslibrary/Thumbnails/2010/10/25/20101025-233127/0H+UFzcvQVSGKqjxxZElfw/thumb_IMG_7943_1024.jpg"></attachment></div>
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I felt my life was slipping away at times and that God was
distant and uncaring. I wanted him to wave a magic wand and make everything
easy and comfortable. Sometimes I felt anger, resentment, and even numbness. I
wondered how such a loving and caring God could be so distant and detached from
what we were walking through. I finally resigned myself to repeatedly praying
for peace and joy in our home because it had somehow gone missing over the
years. I clung to worship in our church because it was my source of strength to
face the unknown.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember one morning waking up tired and just not ready to
face the day. I took off my clothes and stepped into the shower with my eyes
still closed. I just didn’t feel 100%. As I showered I began to pray, trying to
pump myself up. I remembered a verse in Romans 8:30, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who
loved us.”</i> (NIV). I started repeating to myself “I am more than a conqueror.”
However, I didn’t feel anything like a conqueror at that moment. Then, as I
looked down, I noticed I was still wearing my bedroom slippers. They were
sopping wet. I had to laugh out loud. Yeah, I was more than a conqueror.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s been four years now since our mom went to be with the
Lord. We miss her terribly. But we know she is in a place where she will never
have to face sickness again. Her journey is just beginning and never ending. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Now we are in a new season and just recently Robin and I
were talking about how hard those years were, but how we can see God’s hand in
everything we walked through. Those times we thought he was distant and cold,
it turned out he was working on our behalf. We traded stories back and forth
about God’s faithfulness in all of it. Why didn’t we see it before? He was
there all along, right in the middle of it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gave us strength we didn’t have and favor to open the
doors that were closed when searching for options for Mom’s care. Now I can see
that he was not distant at all in that season, but very close. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m reminded every morning of those prayers I prayed for
peace and joy that seemingly fell flat. Every morning when I get out of bed I
walk to the front of the house and look out of the windows to a beautiful lake.
I stare and thank God for his strength, peace and faithfulness. I take a deep
breath and feel a sense of calm and joy. Without fail I look out over the
beautiful, peaceful view and recall Ephesians 3:20: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine,
according to his power that is at work within us.” (MSG) </i>Even when we have
friends over they often comment that they feel such a great sense of peace in
our home. Now I understand I can trust him through any season, whether good or
bad.</div>
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No matter what the changing seasons bring, we can rely on
the fact that God’s ability doesn’t change. He is always able to do more than
we can ask or imagine and his power is always at work within us, even when we
don’t feel powerful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He walks
through every season with us no matter what it may bring. It’s in his strength
that we are more than conquerors, even when we find ourselves standing in the
shower wearing nothing but our soaking wet bedroom slippers. </div>
Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-86511279169856481572016-09-23T11:52:00.000-04:002016-09-23T11:52:17.825-04:00STAYING ON FIRE FOR GOD, EVEN WITH KIDS<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I think of summer I usually think of Disney World. My
sister and I are both single. So a trip to Disney World is very different for
us than it is for a family with small children. We make our reservations, hop
on a plane and hit the ground running. We relax, eat and sleep on our own
timetable. However, for families traveling with small children it’s an entirely
different story. Apparently, from my observation, it seems that as soon as a
baby is born in America, the parents slap a Disney Magic Band on the baby’s
tiny wrist and whisk it off to Disney World. One minute the baby is safe and
warm in the mother’s womb and next it’s floating in a boat with the tune of
“It’s a Small World” ringing in its tiny, helpless ears. <attachment webkitattachmentpath="/Users/deboyette/Pictures/Photos Library.photoslibrary/Thumbnails/2016/09/23/20160923-153132/q%DZ54v5QeOa4rt+%wfFyw/thumb_GKyZ3Lgr_1024.jpg"></attachment></div>
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I chuckle when I see families arriving with their kids on
the first day of their exciting new adventure. Usually, when I see them first
arriving, they are all smiling from ear to ear. The kids are all fired up to
start their grand journey through Disney. The parents look proud and can’t wait
for their kids to experience all the fun that’s waiting for them inside the
parks. They have visions of relaxing by the pool, shopping, dining together,
laughing and bonding as a warm, close-knit family. But when you see them about
midweek it’s a whole different picture. The kids are crying and want to go back
to the hotel pool. One kid’s shoes are missing and they have pieces of Mickey
Mouse lollipops stuck in their hair. The parents look exhausted as they drag
their screaming kids through the park to the next fun attraction. The newborn
baby is screaming at the top of its lungs because it has no idea where it is or
how it got there, while the mother is loaded down with diaper bags, toy bags,
snack bags, and a bag that she picked up by mistake belonging to another family
altogether. Later I see the father wrestling with the stroller, trying to fold
it down so he can finally take a seat on the bus carrying other screaming kids.
Of course, he’ll have to stand for the entire ride because by the time he
finally gets on the bus there are no more seats available. Once back in their
hotel they throw the kids in the pool and then collapse in a chair somewhere
with their heads spinning, wondering why they ever made the trip in the first
place. They look like they need a vacation from their vacation.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Christians often experience something similar. We start off
on our journey excited and all fired up to go out and do great things for God.
We can’t stop smiling and we can’t wait to see what God is going to do in our
lives. We’re filled with joy and expectation. We want to share Jesus with
everyone we meet, knowing we’re going to absolutely change the world. But
later, after we’ve had to fight a few battles, endure a few disappointments and
missed expectations, our smiles slowly disappear. We feel tired and weary. Our
Bible is dusty and the flame that burned so fiercely in the beginning has
turned to a small, flickering pilot light. We just want to get on the bus, go
home and curl up on our bed, wondering why we ever started the journey in the
first place. Our original dreams start to fade and our pace slows to a crawl.
Gradually we allow the simple message of the gospel to become complicated in
our minds and we forget the excitement of our first love, Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Being on fire and staying on fire are two different things.
The Bible warns us that we can easily lose our flame if we’re not diligent. If
we’re not careful we can let the whining kids, the exhausting pace of life and
circumstances overshadow all God has for us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Don’t burn out; keep
yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully
expectant. Don’t quit in hard times; pray all the harder.” Romans 12:12-13</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(MSG)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There’s the key to staying on fire for God. Stay focused on
Christ, keep expecting good things, even when you can’t see them in front of
you and don’t quit just because it gets a little bumpy on your journey. And
most of all, pray. Prayer is the fuel for your fire. Remember, God is in the
middle of it all and he is so for you. Don’t miss out on the adventure and the
plan God has for your life.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
P.S. Tip for parents: Be patient and wait until the baby is
at least 7 years old before taking it to Disney World. You’ll thank me later. </div>
Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-11626351033552513252015-09-30T11:02:00.003-04:002015-09-30T11:02:51.219-04:00Life is Better with Shoes<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
I don’t entertain that often, but
when I do, I’m usually a nervous wreck. I just so want everything to go well,
for the food to be delicious and for nothing embarrassing to happen. Because,
for those of you who know me, it usually does when I’m involved. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
I remember one night when I invited
a friend over for a casual dinner. There was nothing special, just an easy
dinner and some time to chat and catch up. It seemed simple enough to pull off.
I planned a dinner menu, something I could make ahead and then cook just before
my friend arrived. I love those make-ahead dinners. They save time and stress,
plus you’re not chained to the stove when your guests arrive. You can actually
join in on the conversation and enjoy the evening like everyone else. It was a
brilliant plan.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivI7EwB187m6E9_1rDwToToLPzpUWIcZ4eH4mVhYjlN2aN1_eJy4c8Ns7hCybSl4GEZJYgIxc3hRwCU4uu8j-Ysx0bFxPkQgMeVRIwn-oAxNdvg5KV0_y-gElSjW9p7JSKKbKIsw1yoII/s1600/IMG_1734.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivI7EwB187m6E9_1rDwToToLPzpUWIcZ4eH4mVhYjlN2aN1_eJy4c8Ns7hCybSl4GEZJYgIxc3hRwCU4uu8j-Ysx0bFxPkQgMeVRIwn-oAxNdvg5KV0_y-gElSjW9p7JSKKbKIsw1yoII/s320/IMG_1734.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
I forgot to mention that I have a
golden retriever named Indiana (Indy). He’s three years old now and more
mature, but at the time of my dinner party he was only a year old and still
sowing his wild oats. He was a busy puppy, very curious and into just about
everything. He needed 24-hour supervision and even then, he could quickly get
into trouble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I decided to let
Indy stay out of his kennel during my dinner, my first mistake. My friend,
Leslie loves dogs and didn’t mind him being around. He had been behaving pretty
well that day so I thought he wouldn’t be a problem. I didn’t know how long the
dinner and chatting would last so I didn’t want him locked up all that evening.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Well everything seemed to be going
well. Leslie arrived and we had some appetizers on the front porch. Indy was lying down beside me and behaving like a perfect angel. As we moved
inside for dinner I decided to let Indy stay with us. He moved under the dining
room table and spread out to take a nap. I was happy to see him going to sleep.
That meant I wouldn’t have to keep such a close eye on him and we could eat in
peace. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
When we sat down at the table to
eat, I apologized to Leslie for Indy spreading out under the table. “No problem,”
she said. “I’ll just pet him with my feet while he sleeps.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
We had a great dinner and continued
to sit and talk after we finished eating. I served dessert and there wasn’t the
slightest peep from Indy. I commented on what a good boy he was being. Leslie
had slipped off her shoes and was rubbing his back with her feet as we talked.
It was a very relaxing evening.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
As the evening came to a close
Leslie said she needed to be getting home. She seemed to be frantically
searching under the table for something. Robbie was helping her. I was busy
clearing away the dirty dishes to the kitchen when suddenly, Robbie stood up
with what appeared to be a black leather bow. I burst out laughing thinking
Indy must have chewed up something belonging to Robbie earlier and left it
under the table. But as I was laughing I could see neither Robbie nor Leslie was
smiling. I quickly stopped laughing. Something was definitely wrong. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“That’s all that’s left of Leslie’s
shoes,” announced Robbie.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Leslie slowly shook her head,
confirming they were indeed her shoes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“What about the other shoe,” I
asked, swallowing hard.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Robbie looked once more under the
table. “That’s it,” she said, holding up the small black bow. “Indy completely
destroyed them. This bow is all that’s left.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“What?” I said. I couldn’t believe
my eyes. He had been so quiet during dinner, not a sound. How could it be?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
It turns out that when Leslie
slipped off her shoes and started rubbing Indy’s back with her bare feet, Indy
proceeded to eat both of her shoes. What a great night he had. He was getting a
wonderful back rub and had two shoes to chew on in the process. It was every
puppy’s dream. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
I was mortified. What do you say?
“Sorry, my dog ate your shoes. You’ll have to go home barefoot.” I wanted to
kill Indy and then hide in my bedroom for the rest of my life. I considered
selling my home, leaving my church, moving to another country and dying my hair
black. But I just had to face the music. There was nowhere to hide.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Leslie was such a good sport. She actually
started laughing and found the whole thing hilarious while I hung my head in
shame. Robbie quickly ran to her room and brought back several pairs of shoes
for Leslie to try on so she wouldn’t have to go home with naked feet. Leslie
insisted she was fine, but finally chose a pair of shoes to wear home. I also
wrote her a check to cover the cost of her shoes and insisted she take it. It
was the least I could do. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
After Leslie left I lectured Indy
for quite a while, but he didn’t seem to care. He looked very calm and serene.
After all, he had gotten a great back rub and enjoyed a tasty pair of shoes at
the same time. He saw no problem with the situation. In his eyes I’m sure he
saw it as a very productive and relaxing evening.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
In our spiritual walk we can’t
afford to relax and slip off our armor, even for a second. The enemy is crouching like a
thief and he is waiting for the right moment when we let down our guard, take
off our armor and allow him a foothold in our life. He doesn’t even need a big
foothold, just a small space to squeeze into. He’ll make you think it’s no big
deal. He will make you believe that just because you let your side down just
for a little while it won’t make a difference in your walk, but believe me,
every inch you give the thief turns into a giant crater before you realize it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<o:p> </o:p><span style="line-height: 150%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“Be on your guard; stand firm in
the faith; be courageous; be strong.” 1 Corinthians 16:13 (NIV)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Never let down your guard. While
you’re thinking all is well, the enemy will be destroying your life, bit by
bit. God has a plan for your life and he will see it through if you keep your
eyes on him. Don’t allow the enemy to nibble at your feet or you’ll be left
holding the bits and pieces of your destroyed life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Don’t worry. I didn’t kill Indy.
He’s still around and he’s my best friend. But when I have dinner guests he
goes upstairs. I like my guests to leave with their shoes still on their feet. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<o:p> </o:p><span style="line-height: 150%;">“The thief comes only to steal and
kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the
full.” John 10:10 (NIV)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Trusting the enemy will leave you holding just the chewed up bow from your shoes. Keep up your guard. God is fighting right along side of you. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-7947377140058303352013-12-14T15:27:00.000-05:002013-12-14T15:38:50.471-05:00Something's Not Quite Right<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Have you ever been going along in life, just going through your daily routine and suddenly you get the feeling that something’s just not right? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I had just such an experience one morning while I was in a hurry to get dressed. I had just finished having a cup of coffee, checking my e-mails, and looking at the weather for the day all on my handy phone. I’m not a morning person at all. I come alive about four in the afternoon. Before that I’m pretty much dragging. I’ve never been a morning person. I was even born at 2:00 p.m. on March 18th. I was supposed to be born on March 1st, but I was so comfortable where I was, I thought, “What’s the rush?”</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;"> As I started getting undressed to get into the shower, I felt like I was just going through the motions. I think my brain was still catching a few winks. As I stepped into the shower under the warm, running water, I remember thinking, “Lord, something doesn’t feel quite right. The day has begun and I feel like I’m not ready to start yet. What’s wrong with me?” As I began washing, I still couldn’t get past the feeling that something was different. Something was just not quite right. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew something was wrong.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I closed my eyes and started singing to myself. You know, just trying to lift my spirit a bit, but no matter how hard I tried, I just didn’t feel like myself. I stood under the water trying to wake up and get myself going. As I stood there, I tried to grasp what was different about that morning. I suddenly realized that even the shower floor felt different. It felt a bit squishy. I opened my eyes to check out the floor of the shower and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was wearing my bedroom slippers. Nothing else, mind you, just bedroom slippers. No wonder the floor felt squishy. Wet bedroom shoes are not very comfortable. It was a very weird feeling. I felt so stupid. I lost it right there in the shower. There I stood, laughing uncontrollably wearing nothing but soaked bedroom slippers. It was a moment for the books (literally). I pulled off my bedroom slippers and squeezed out all the water. At least I had discovered a new way to get my body clean and wash my bedroom slippers all at the same time. I couldn’t decide if I was losing it or if I was a genius. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYMOfiFdAXsw0A2pcSPHIjPKqooidGV1MD4910fjeW9_x2k4dz4p15s-SWKJEi3hsAWZcjXRWZ87VUZ8hJ4VW3Yoo7O0NkcmNCg4C-g3ELUKfHZw6ffau2kzQoRmoCKrpH8PnvIlXKgxM/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYMOfiFdAXsw0A2pcSPHIjPKqooidGV1MD4910fjeW9_x2k4dz4p15s-SWKJEi3hsAWZcjXRWZ87VUZ8hJ4VW3Yoo7O0NkcmNCg4C-g3ELUKfHZw6ffau2kzQoRmoCKrpH8PnvIlXKgxM/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sometimes we have days where we feel like we could conquer the world, spiritually speaking, and then on other days, we wonder if we’ll be able to get out of bed. We know those days when we don’t feel one hundred percent victorious. Something seems a little off, but we’re not quite sure what it is. We don’t feel like a conqueror. We feel more like we’re standing in the shower wearing soaked bedroom slippers. But being a conqueror has little to do with feeling like a conqueror. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Romans 8:37–39 (NIV)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">No matter how we’re feeling, we are still more than conquerors because nothing can separate us from God’s love. So even on those days when you’re not feeling on top of the world, you are more than a conqueror. On those days, remind yourself who and what you are. You are a child of the Most High King, Jesus Christ, and you are more than a conqueror, even when you’re standing in the shower wearing only your wet bedroom slippers. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Excerpt from "Life is a Buffet, But Bring a Mop and a Pail," Copyright </span><span style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">©2013 by Polly D. Boyette All Rights Reserved.</span></span><br />
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<!--EndFragment-->Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-44472405569594531662013-12-03T13:00:00.001-05:002013-12-04T17:01:00.801-05:00Volume 3 of Life is a Buffet book series is out!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Life-Buffet-But-Bring-Pail/dp/0985795425/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1385929057&sr=1-1&keywords=Polly+D.+Boyette" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxxhAvhVbmJA0ZwlJyB2hyphenhyphenySN4W5H2heTjQaHhp-HePlDh3RMCT2FBr-vgtdZZP2a0PzwIe1tDHd0UaeZcW9i_JNmKn5OG8WM-WvFcaXQgHht6arIKMGHqUlX8NTHvhyl4YL6e14FUVcA/s320/LIB+III+Book+Cover+Snapshot.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Just Published! My latest book in the Life is a Buffet series just arrived! If you know someone who is going through difficulty or just needs a good laugh, this is the book for you. It makes a great gift! <b><u><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00H27GWLU" target="_blank">It is also available on Kindle by clicking here.</a></u></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Life can be wonderful! Life can also be very messy. How do you deal with the mess? Do you sweep it under the rug and try to ignore it, or are you the one who worries about the mess before it even happens? Do you try to fix everything by yourself? Many of us don't feel we are equipped for most of the messiness of life, but in this book, "Life is a Buffet, But Bring a Mop and a Pail, Polly Boyette reminds us that we were not designed to do life alone. God wants us to rely on him, even in the middle of our biggest mess. "God holds the high center, he sees and sets the world's mess right. He decides what is right for us earthlings, gives people their just deserts." Psalms 9:7-8 (MSG) In this third book in the "Life is a Buffet" series, Polly Boyette once again uses humor and charming real-life stories to remind us that God is with us and for us in everything we experience in life. He has equipped us to walk head-on into any mess life may throw at us. He will rescue us, and he will never leave us abandoned or alone.</span>Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-14094031060038131652013-02-13T15:53:00.001-05:002013-02-13T19:21:06.928-05:00THE FIFTEEN MINUTE RULE<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROfGTA_6W8ntRXBcp-W96hVvozRtmPz6w4yYOyHKyBosfcfm4M3HTzQWamcRL95oNr10XFC-oT0NpBwQBcLuRIvp7ri7AOFAITi_0Z6j4wKxwoVC89q1ro0QS7_rxcJFXqypvuKack0o/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROfGTA_6W8ntRXBcp-W96hVvozRtmPz6w4yYOyHKyBosfcfm4M3HTzQWamcRL95oNr10XFC-oT0NpBwQBcLuRIvp7ri7AOFAITi_0Z6j4wKxwoVC89q1ro0QS7_rxcJFXqypvuKack0o/s200/images.jpeg" width="170" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">One morning as I
was sitting in a women’s meeting at my church, I suddenly became aware that I
had forgotten my driver’s license and my debit card. I don’t know what prompted
this realization, unless it was the fact that my stomach was growling and I was
thinking about what I would get for lunch on my way home. Sometimes our brain
has a funny way of connecting our feelings with the brutal facts. As my stomach
began to growl, my brain had the wherewithal to say, “Fat chance of
eating on the way home. She forgot to bring any money and she’s driving without
a license.” Perhaps this is when I began to fumble through my purse and
realized it was true. I had no way of paying for anything to eat and I had
driven to church without my driver’s license. At that point there was nothing
to do, but pay attention to what was happening on the stage and worry about my
lack of funds and legal permission to drive after the meeting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Later, as I was driving home, I remembered I had rented a movie from one of
those convenient vending machines they have on every corner now. The movie only cost a
dollar to rent, but I find that I forget to return the movie for days, so the
one dollar movie always ends up costing way more than a dollar. I’m sure that’s
the idea behind renting the movie for only a dollar in the first place, to make
money from suckers like me who cannot remember to return the movie on time. Anyway, I was so happy that I had remembered to return the movie as I was
going to be driving past the movie vending machine on my way home. It was
located right outside the neighborhood grocery store, just down the street from
my home. So I could easily stop by, return the movie within the proper
timeframe and only pay the original dollar for the movie. I was very proud of
myself for remembering, even though it was a very small accomplishment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I parked my car
just across from the vending machine and happily returned my movie rental. I then decided I should go inside the grocery store and
pick up a few items I needed for the night’s meal. I grabbed a cart and made my way
through the store, picking up various items, meats, veggies, etc. I think I was
even humming to myself because I was having a pretty good day. The morning
meeting at church had been both inspirational and encouraging. It was a great
start to my day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">When I finished
shopping I went up to one of those do-it-yourself-checkout registers where you
scan all the items yourself and then pay. As I was just beginning to sort
through my items, a friendly clerk walked up and said, “May I help you? We’re not busy. Let me
do this for you, ma’am.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Okay,” I said.
I just stood back and let her scan away. Then suddenly my brain once again
warned me, “REMINDER! You have no debit card or driver’s license. Oh, and you also have
no checkbook or cash. How do you intend to pay for all the groceries?” Your
brain can be very annoying sometimes. Why didn’t it choose to remind me outside
of the store instead of after the clerk had begun scanning all my items? You
call this a brain?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Suddenly I went
into panic mode. I began to frantically search through my purse for any means
to pay for the groceries, but I came up empty. It’s hard to know what to say at
a moment when you’re purchasing lots of merchandise, and yet, you have absolutely no
way to pay for it. I paused for a moment, and then I just blurted out politely,
“Excuse me, ma’am.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Yes?” she
replied, while still scanning the items. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Um, I regret to inform you that I just discovered I have forgotten my debit card and my
cash. I actually have no money on me to pay for my groceries.” Then I just
smiled a half smile and twisted my face into a look that says, “Please don’t
grab the microphone and announce this to the whole store!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Oh, I see,” said the
clerk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We stood for a
moment and just stared at one another. Those moments always seem to last for an
eternity. She’s wondering what kind of idiot comes into the store to shop with
no money of any kind and I’m also wondering what kind of idiot comes into the
store to shop with no money of any kind?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“So what do you
want to do?” she asked, as she began scanning the items to take them out of the
register. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Well, I just
live down the street, very close by,” I replied quietly. “I guess I could just
run home and grab my debit card and come back and pay for my groceries. Would
that be okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The woman just
stared at me, blinking her eyes several times. I’m not sure what that meant,
but she seemed to be trying to decide whether I would actually come back to the
store. Then she asked, “Will it take more than fifteen minutes for you to
return?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I thought that
was a curious question. I didn’t realize there was some sort of deadline for
going home and returning back to the store again. I guess I had crossed a line
now and new rules were in play. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Yes,” I
replied. “I’m sure I can make it back within fifteen minutes. As I said, I live very
nearby, but why is it important that I return within fifteen minutes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Well, you’ve
got meat in your cart and we’re not allowed to keep the meat out of the freezer
section for more than fifteen minutes,” she explained. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Oh,” I
answered. I had never heard of this rule before. I have probably driven around
for way more than fifteen minutes, stuck in traffic with meat in my car from
the grocery store and yet, I’m still alive. I guess this was the grocery store
rule that I was now obliged to obey. “Well I assure you I can make it back
within fifteen minutes,” I answered with confidence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Okay,” she
said. “I will just hold your cart here until you come back. But if you don’t
return within fifteen minutes, I will have to return your meat to the freezer
section. Then you’ll have to shop for it again when you return.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I understand,”
I said, nodding my head. Perish the thought! I didn’t like the idea that they would return my meat
and someone else could actually grab the meat I had so carefully selected
for my meal. This was added pressure for me to make it back in time to keep my
selected meat and to keep it out of the hands of complete strangers. I was up
to the challenge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I left the store
and jumped into my car. I bolted out of the parking lot like I had been shot
out of a cannon. I felt like the clerk was standing there with my cart holding
a stopwatch. I had to make it back within the allotted time or I would face
disgrace and perhaps never be able to show my face in that store again. The pressure was on!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I raced to my
house, opening the garage door with my remote as soon as I was in range. I left
the car running and dashed into the house, hunting frantically for my license
and my debit card. I found them just where I had left them, sitting on my desk
in my office. I also grabbed some cash, and a credit card, just to be able to
show the clerk I had multiple ways of paying. As I turned to head back to the
store I remembered my puppy, Indy was still in his kennel. He had been in there
while I had gone to my meeting and I knew he was more than ready to go outside.
I dashed upstairs, skipping steps as I went. I opened the door to Indy’s kennel
and commanded him to get downstairs as fast as he could go. Of course, he
looked at me like I was completely crazy, but he complied and he quickly bounded down the
stairs. Obviously, he was totally oblivious to the "Fifteen Minute Rule." I let him outside and dashed back to my
running car. I had no more time to waste. Indy would have to wait until I
returned to feed him and let him back inside. I’m sure he would
understand the “Fifteen Minute Rule” once I explained it to him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I made it back
to the store with time to spare. I ran up to the same clerk. She was still standing by my cart
and seemed surprised to see me back so soon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“You made it!”
she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Yes, as I said,
I live very nearby,” I answered. “I have a debit card, a credit card and cash
to pay with. Did you have to return my meat to the freezer?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“No,” she said
with a smile. “You made it back within the fifteen minutes. So your meat is
safe.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">As she began
scanning the items again I caught my breath and felt relief that I would be
taking home the meat I originally selected. I had made it within the allotted
time. I was very proud, even though, once again, it was a very small
accomplishment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuZHmWKoUusd42T3GT6ivuTKRD1oO-vv8bOyTrHu3fMJfknhdKjF6RvH25TM94-dBWITXjGUBG8m7OsVhuYEDg6Lm6GNKd6fTnvctbyWK9oPAhRd19wQsGtlJGZhPXOBwYYXr474-byc/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuZHmWKoUusd42T3GT6ivuTKRD1oO-vv8bOyTrHu3fMJfknhdKjF6RvH25TM94-dBWITXjGUBG8m7OsVhuYEDg6Lm6GNKd6fTnvctbyWK9oPAhRd19wQsGtlJGZhPXOBwYYXr474-byc/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I proudly paid
for my groceries and slowly pushed my cart out to the car. The drive home was
much more relaxed this time around. There, in the quiet of my car, I started thinking about how much pressure
we sometimes bring on ourselves by our own actions or lack of actions. It was
my fault that I didn’t have a way to pay for my groceries and my fault for not
remembering that I didn’t have a way to pay. It was also my fault that I
decided I had to make it back within the fifteen allotted minutes. So what if
they had returned my meat to the freezer and I had to go and pick it out again?
Would that have been the end of the world? I would have had to go through the agony of re-selecting my meat. Was that really as bad as all that? Of course not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Often we create
confusion, chaos and stress in our lives just by being careless, thoughtless or
just not using wisdom. We heap pressure on ourselves by getting so busy we
don’t even know what we have and what we don’t have. In addition, we take on
all the extra little rules that others throw at us, even when we know we don’t
have to. We don’t think things through. We just react. “Fifteen minutes? I have
to return in fifteen minutes?” We heap one pressure on top of another pressure
until we end up exploding, usually on those closest to us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Don’t let life
make you jump through unnecessary loopholes. Stop and think. Is it really worth
the stress? If I don’t make this deadline, will it be the end of the world?
Often there are real deadlines we miss because we’re trying to meet unrealistic
deadlines we’ve placed on ourselves. Why do we do this to ourselves? Life is
busy enough without the added stress and pressure of trying to meet everyone’s
expectations and rules. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“So don’t put up
with anyone pressuring you in details of diet, worship services, or holy days.
All those things are mere shadows cast before what was to come; the substance
is Christ.” Colossians 2:16-17 (MSG)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Don’t be
pressured by others. Others will try to sidetrack you with their rules,
deadlines or agendas, but stay focused on what is important. The substance is
Christ. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-42358051667999037912012-10-16T13:58:00.001-04:002012-10-16T13:59:30.375-04:00Unforced Rhythms of Grace<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Do you ever
get going so fast you don’t even stop to check if even doing it right? I find I go so fast sometimes that when I type a quick message to someone on e-mail or Facebook, and I don’t
bother to check my typing, and I can get into big trouble. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Not too long
ago I was reading a friend’s post on Facebook about going through a difficult
time with her job situation. I decided to quickly post some encouraging words
to her before I dashed off to make supper. I typed something like, “I’m praying
for you to find a great job and don’t worry because it is God’s job to make
your path straight. Your job is to just trust him.” I posted it in the comments
section of her wall and ran off to start cooking. I never stopped to read my
comment back to make sure there were no errors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Later that
evening, my sister, Robbie and I were sitting in the living room. I was playing
with something on my iPad and she was looking at Facebook on her laptop.
Suddenly she burst into uncontrollable laughter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“What in the
world are you laughing at?” I asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Robbie tried
to answer, but she couldn’t stop laughing long enough. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“You’re driving
me crazy,! I yelled. “What is so funny?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Finally Robbie
pulled it together long enough to try to explain her outburst. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“Don’t you
ever read what you type?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“What do you
mean? What did I type?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“You left a
comment on Kim’s wall today, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“Yes,” I
answered. “She’s having a hard time with her job right now and I told her to
just trust Him. So what’s so funny about that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“Come and look
at what you typed,” said Robbie, trying to control her laughter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">I leaned over
to look at Robbie’s laptop, reading the comment to myself. I couldn’t believe
my eyes. Instead of typing “Just trust Him.” I typed, “Just trust Jim.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">We both
screamed with laughter for about a half hour or so. It was hilarious. But it
got even worse. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“Read Kim’s
comment back to you,” said Robbie. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Kim had
answered my comment with, “Polly, who is Jim and why should I trust Him? Does
he have a job for me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">After reading
Kim’s comment I just fell on the floor laughing. It was like something you
would see in a sitcom. It took us a long time to regain our composure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“I’d better
explain my comment,” I said. I quickly left another comment for Kim explaining
what I really meant to say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“No problem,”
Kim wrote back. “You made me laugh out loud and I needed a good laugh.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Sometimes we
get moving and grooving just a tad too fast in life. We’re rushing here and
there and never taking the time to really slow down to pay attention to what
we’re doing and how well we’re doing it. We’re always tired and worn out from
our busy lives as well. What's the solution?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion?
Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to
take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the
unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.
Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Matthew 11:28-30 (MSG)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">There’s
the answer. We need to learn “the unforced rhythms of grace; to live freely and
lightly.” We need to learn to slow down and rest in Him. Today that seems like
the opposite of what the world tells us to do. The world is constantly telling
us to grab all the gusto in life and to add more and more things to do to be
the perfect wife, parent or woman. Soon we are moving too fast for words and we’re
too tired to even care. There’s nothing fulfilling in that kind of life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tire?
Worn out? Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. Stop striving. Just trust Jim, I
mean, Him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-84118471614033504612012-09-21T16:41:00.000-04:002012-09-21T16:46:32.091-04:00Clean Up Your Act<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of my least favorite things to do is to clean out the
garage or my closet. Of course, eventually you have to give in and clean them
out or you will end up with heaps of stuff on top of piles of stuff and you
won’t have any idea what you do and do not have. My sister, Robbie, on the
other hand, loves to clean out anything. She’s a very sick person if you ask
me. We live together and so this is a big issue between us. She’ll get this
look that says, “It’s time to tackle the garage” and I run and hide in my room.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Robbie loves to sort, organize,
make lists, alphabetize items and color coordinate. This is very scary to me. Cleaning
out the garage becomes, not just a tedious task, but an event when Robbie is
involved. There’s a give away stack, a throw away stack, a what-is-it stack, a
bulky item pick-up stack, a hazardous chemical stack, and the list goes on and
on. We have to start this project at about 5:30 am in order to finish by bed time.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
On the day of the project I wake up
with a sense of dread. Robbie wakes up with a “yippee” in her voice. It makes
me want to strangle her and put her body in the throw away stack. I drag my
feet as long as I can to prolong the blessed event, finding a million other
things to do until Robbie finally starts screaming, “Let’s get this party
started!” I’ve never seen a woman any happier than when Robbie is standing in
the middle of a big clean out project. I’m telling you this is not a normal
person. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
My problem is that I want to keep
everything. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“Don’t throw away that
thing-a-ma-bob,” I say, rescuing it out of the throw away stack. “I might need
it later.” Robbie just keeps tossing things in her neatly labeled piles until
we collapse on the front lawn with a completely empty garage. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“Now,” Robbie will say smiling,
“let’s put each thing in a specific place, color coordinated according to
labels and in categories such as gardening, lawn, tools, etc. And so it goes. I’m
usually lying on my back, staring up at the sky, praying frantically for the
rapture. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
“God if you’re a just God, please
send Jesus back now to rescue me from the ‘Evil Queen of Lists.’” I listen
carefully for the sound of the trumpet or for a glimpse of Jesus on one of the
clouds, but, alas, I have to get up and finish the grand garage project. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
When we finally finish, Robbie
stands back with her hands on her hips and say, “Now doesn’t that make you feel
good?” I usually just go back inside, mumbling under my breath. Robbie will go
in and out of the garage about sixty times, commenting each time on how nice
the garage looks. I shower and collapse on my bed, locking the door behind me
so Robbie can’t get in to see my closet. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
We have to sift threw a lot of
stuff in life to sort out what’s worth keeping from the junk we need to toss. Too
many times we let the junk influence our decisions and we throw out the gold
nuggets along with the useless stuff. Maybe we’re in a great church, but one
thing happens that offends us and we’re ready to throw away the whole church
because of it. Perhaps we’ve tossed aside a good friend because it takes too
much effort on our part to keep up the relationship. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Sometimes we clutter up our lives with
so much junk we couldn’t find the real priceless things if we tried. We don’t
sort or sift; we just accept and keep with no consideration of quality or
value. As Christians, we should live what we value. The things we value in our
lives should shine through for others to see. The clutter and piles of junk we
collect in life will reflect chaos and lack of vision to others. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
We must pay close attention to the
things we toss aside and the things we decide to keep. We need to get out our
sifter and make sure we’re catching all the gold pieces that life has to offer
and then get rid of the junk. Our life should reflect direction, purpose, and
vision. People will see what is valuable and important in our life once we
strip away the junk and it will set an example for others to follow. They will
want what we have to offer and our life will bring honor to God.<br />
Excerpt from Life is a Buffet So What's On Your Plate? (Copyright<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 0.5in;">©2009 by Polly D. Boyette - All rights reserved.)</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-22360087057008716782012-09-07T15:46:00.001-04:002012-09-07T15:46:39.923-04:00Chasing Angels Chapter Samples 1-3
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Chasing-Angels-ebook/dp/B008DGHCSQ/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1340312552&sr=1-2&keywords=Polly+Boyette" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSYol-Fe-4_oOMAXAegtJtA9aVYi-Do-xNartSMD7hw0sXIEPKnqVR1prZ1d8xvICwnaW130lpEspvpi2Z1c4tj4rRU_Hrw37OYMwhyW_a6A3NLMntwTd3Su7djA6y8pRs57llHcmmW0/s320/Image+1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<h1 align="center" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="" name="CHAP1"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">CHAPTER 1<o:p></o:p></span></a></h1>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Watch out! The dragon is right behind
me! I can feel his breath on my neck. Run for your lives before he destroys us
all.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: .5in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan was just a young boy who had not
seen much of the world outside the small town of Fairhaven, and yet, he was
wise beyond his 11 years. He spent a lot of time on his own these days. His
mother was often too busy to pay attention to him. Nathan didn't mind though. He
used his imagination to stay occupied. Right now there was a fire-breathing
dragon lurking at the edge of the woods. If he kept low to the ground, perhaps
he’d be invisible to the monster’s yellow eyes. He hid for what seemed like
forever, until the sky was clear with only a few motionless clouds drifting
above him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Cautiously, he left his hiding place
and walked along the banks of the Black River. The trees were amber and gold
today, much brighter than they had appeared yesterday. The wind sent a chill
through him. Kicking at the leaves, he picked up a stick that could have easily
passed as an ancient sword of a warrior who walked this same path centuries ago
along the old Black River. Nathan paused to think how the river had been there
since he could remember. He thought of it more as a trusted friend than just
simply a river. No matter what happened, he could always come there and find
the comfort and warmth that was missing at home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: .5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The sun was radiant today. So he
took advantage of it and used his powerful sword to ward off evil and invisible
enemies. He felt strong with the sun shining on his back. It was different from
the night, when everything was colorless and cold. He turned quickly to make
sure no one had followed him with a surprise attack from behind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan jumped and rolled in the
crisp leaves on the soft ground. What a day! No mere human could make a day
like this, even if they tried. He leaned up against a tree and listened for a
while. The birds were rehearsing a new symphony that would be debuted tomorrow
morning for lucky early risers. They didn't seem to mind him eavesdropping. As
a matter of fact, they seemed to sing even louder now. Nathan closed his eyes
and he could almost hear a piano and a distant flute. His imagination was
perfect today. He paused a little longer, and then, as if something or someone
had called him, he took off running down the edge of the river's bank, skipping
and dragging his sword closely by his side. "Wait, was that the dreaded
dragon hiding behind that tree?" he wondered to himself. Even a dragon
couldn't conquer the magical sword he possessed. He posed himself like a brave
knight about to do battle with his worst enemy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“This will surely make me famous,” he thought. “Why, I bet there
hasn't been a dragon slain in these parts in hundreds of years.” The dragon was
breathing heavily now. Nathan could see smoke rising from his nostrils. “Be
brave,” he whispered to himself. “You have your sword. Nothing can harm you as
long as you swing it with all your might.” He steadied his hand and placed one
arm behind his back. He ran at the tree with the sword outstretched and leapt
on the other side to greet his opponent with surprise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt .5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The fire-breathing dragon had disappeared. Apparently, too
frightened to stay and fight. But something had been left behind. As Nathan
bent to push some of the leaves away for a better view, he saw what looked like
a human hand. He fell backwards, landing awkwardly on his sword. Could it be?
Should he look again? He was trembling inside and suddenly felt afraid. But his
curiosity was greater than his fear. He stepped closer and bent down again to
search for what he thought he had seen. Yes, there it was, a small pale hand,
like that of a child. He carefully removed more of the leaves until he could
clearly see that it was a child, a boy, with dark hair and smooth skin. The small
body was motionless and cold and his lips were a bluish color. Off in the
distance, he heard someone calling his name. </span></div>
<a name='more'></a><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Nathan, where are you? Are you playing out there? Nathan, answer
me!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He quickly covered the body with leaves again and ran toward the
voice. He thought it was the voice of his mother, calling him for dinner, but
as he ran, it grew more faint. “Wait,” he yelled back. “I'm coming.” He ran as
fast as he could. “Please, wait Mom, I'm here,” he gasped, as he continued to
run. Suddenly, he didn't know where he was. The woods had turned dark and
confusing. Yet, he continued to run, listening for the voice in the distance to
guide him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The voice called him again, "Nathan! I'm here. Nathan, over
here." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He stopped and listened. Was that his mother? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Nathan, where you going?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">That wasn't his mother's voice, but who was calling him? He decided
to run in the opposite direction, back to where he started. But an old man with
thin white hair appeared right behind him, blocking his escape. His eyes were
bright and open wide. He wore a white shirt and what looked like a wide blue
sash running from shoulder to waist, almost like some kind of angel. His face
seemed strangely hidden. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Nathan, where you going?" the old man asked in an odd
broken English. "Why you running away?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan was
too terrified to answer, so he just stood and stared. The old man reached out
to touch Nathan’s hair. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You young,”
he said softly. “You strong, but you look scared,” the old man said calmly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan wasn't sure if he was afraid, or just numb. “Who are you?” He
asked in a quivering voice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Friend, Nathan,” he answered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan couldn't believe what he was hearing. “My friend?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yes,” the old man spoke as though he knew him well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan backed away, “I've got to go home. My mom will be looking for
me.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Okay,” said the old man. “I wait for you here, okay? Then we play.”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan turned and ran until he reached home. Too afraid to stop, he
slammed the door and ran past his mother as she stood in the front room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Where have you been, Nathan? I can't hold dinner for you forever
you know. I have to be at work at seven tonight.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He raced up the stairs and slammed the door behind him with his
mother still yelling up to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Nathan, get down here and eat your supper so I can go to work
without feeling guilty that you haven't eaten.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan lay frozen on his bed. Dare he tell his mother what he had
seen? Would she ever believe him? What if the old man he saw in the woods
killed the young boy he found in the leaves? Maybe he would be next. He should
tell someone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His mother stormed up the stairs. “Nathan, are you deaf? I said your
supper is getting cold. Why are you lying there like a mummy? Get moving.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He slowly made his way past his mother, but he didn't utter a sound.
She would never understand. She always said his imagination ran wild. This was
a story he would have to keep to himself. Maybe it was his imagination. After
all, the woods had always been full of games and wonders for him. His
imagination, yeah, that's all it was. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">That night in bed he was tired, but he was too afraid to close his
eyes. He stared up at the ceiling counting the cracks that ran through the
paint. The house was old, but it was the only thing his father had left him and
his mother. His father died in an accident on a construction job. He could
still remember his mother crying when he walked into the house from school that
day. He could barely understand her through the sobbing, but he knew his father
had died. Three men from the job site brought the news and they were still
standing in the front room. They had those “we’re-sorry,
but-what-do-we-do-now?” looks on their faces. They stood shifting awkwardly
from one foot to the other until his mother told them it was all right for them
to leave. He remembered his grandmother coming to stay with them that night.
Both his mother and grandmother had cried way into the night, but for some
reason, he couldn't cry. Nathan loved his father, but he still couldn't bring
himself to cry. Maybe it would come later. As he studied the cracks in the
paint, there seemed to be more than before, or was it just that he hadn't
counted them in a long time? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A howling wind woke him at 3:15 in the morning. The window shade was
flapping loudly against the woodwork. As he turned to face the other way, he
thought he caught a glimpse of a face in the window. He turned to look again,
but there was no one there. As he turned over, he heard a child’s voice calling
his name. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Nathan,” it called softly. “Come play with me.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan sat up in bed. Did he hear his name? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Nathan, please come play with me,” the voice called again. “I've
got nobody to play with me. The woods are great at night. The moon is shining
full. Can’t you come out?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He slipped out of bed and cautiously walked toward the window. He
couldn't see a thing. Was it the wind? Was it his imagination again? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Nathan,” the child called again. He seemed farther away this time.
Yes, he clearly heard someone calling his name. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan pulled on his coat and slippers and grabbed his flashlight
from a drawer, testing it against the bedroom wall. Climbing carefully out of
the window, he dropped quietly down to the ground and followed the voice toward
the woods. The trees always drew him to the woods in the daytime, but at night
they seemed scary and threatening. Everything seems different at night. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The child's voice was laughing now. “Nathan, I'm over here. Hurry,
up!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He walked quickly now to catch up to the voice. The wind seemed to
blow him in the direction of the child's constant calling. He found himself at
the river's edge, but he couldn’t see anyone there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Little boy,” Nathan called out. “Where are you? Why do you keep
calling me?” There was no answer.
Nathan shined his flashlight toward the water, running the light up and down
the Black River. At night the rocks looked like backs of crocodiles resting in
the water. He stood very still, listening to the sound of the river rushing by
him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Nathan!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He turned his light in the direction of the voice. There he was, a
young boy, maybe Nathan’s age, with dark hair. He stood in the middle of the
river, perched on one of the crocodile backs, or rocks or whatever they were. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Suddenly, the boy started jumping from rock to rock. “Nathan, can
you do this?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Of course I can,” he answered, “but it's the middle of the night.”
The child seemed weightless and unafraid of the dangers of the river. “Hey,
what's your name?” Nathan asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Robert,” the child answered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Then just as quickly as the child had appeared, he was gone. Nathan
stood alone in the night with just his flashlight shining on the rock where
Robert had been standing. “Where'd he go?” Robert was gone with no trace. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The woods were quiet. Nathan backed away, and then walked back
toward home. He kept looking over his shoulder to see if Robert was behind him,
but there was no one there. It was as though he had just vanished. Nathan began
to wonder if he had just imagined him again. What was happening to him? He had
a strong urge to look back once more as he was walking. As he slowly turned
around once again, there, at the edge of the woods, stood an old man with white
hair, waving at Nathan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Goodnight,” the strange man said in a low raspy voice. “Goodnight,
Nathan.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-font-kerning: 16.0pt;"><br clear="ALL" style="page-break-before: always;" />
</span></b>
<h1 align="center" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="" name="CHAP2"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">CHAPTER 2</span></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></h1>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan pushed
the memories of Robert deep inside him and they weren't recalled again.
However, he vividly remembered the dark, rich river that flowed near his home
when he was a boy. He'd often sit in a trance thinking about that place. His
Mother was gone now and he was a grown man. He had become a successful writer,
having left the small quaint town of Fairhaven behind. He had outgrown a lot of
his awkwardness, but not his ever-changing imagination. Inside, he still felt
like the same young boy running along the Black River. Sometimes his writing
would be interrupted by long pauses as his mind wandered back over that period
of time again and again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">For now, he
had decided it was time for a break from his busy life. He was heading back to
Fairhaven for a return visit. He didn't know for sure exactly what was drawing
him back home since his family was all gone now, but there were thousands of
memories in that old town that somehow made him relax and feel at peace with
himself. He decided he would just take some time off, do some fishing, see old
friends again, and see whether there might even be some new stories there worth
writing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Driving back
home, he stopped along the way to pause at a stream that emptied into the Black
River. It wound its way through the woods, like a snake twists and turns over
everything in its pathway. “Funny,” he thought. “Everything seems to change
except this old river. It seems determined to rush past, no matter what's going
on around it. Nothing can stop it.” Just hearing the rushing sounds of the
water moving over the rocks and fallen tree branches made him feel at home. He
felt as though he could stand and listen with his eyes closed for the remainder
of his time off, but he finally tore himself away and drove on to town. The
river paid no attention. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">When he
reached town, he took a room in one of the beautiful bed and breakfasts
available, The Raven Inn, which was run by an old friend of Nathan's mother,
Maggie Sanding, and her daughter, Marcie. It was as beautiful as ever, like an
old friend welcoming him home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Nathan,
Nathan, get yourself over here and give me a hug.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan turned
to see Maggie walking as quickly as she could at her age with arms open wide
and a big grin on her face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Maggie, how
are you doing old girl?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, as
good as a person my age can, I expect,” she said. “Where's your wife?” she
asked, trying to see around behind him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“My wife?
Maggie, I'm not married. You know that. Don't you think I would have invited
you to my wedding if I were getting married?” Nathan asked looking puzzled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, I
guess you are going to die single, Nathan. I declare you ought to be married
with nine children all around you by now.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Speaking of
married, where's that daughter of yours, Marcie?” Nathan asked anxiously. “I
heard a rumor she took the plunge herself.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Maggie leaned
closer to Nathan, “Well now, aren't we behind the times. That wedding knot
never did get tied, honey. I reckon at the last minute Marcie panicked. If you
ask me, she's still carrying something warm in her heart for you.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan looked
down at the ground silently celebrating that Marcie hadn't married after all.
“Where's she living nowadays anyway?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Maggie
pointed in an upward general direction. “Oh they bought a nice house up on the
ridge there, thinking that's where they would live after the wedding. When they
parted ways, David, that's who she was marrying, David Moore, decided to let
her keep the house. I think he just wanted out as much as she did. It has more
room than she needs, but I think she loves that house so much she just had to
keep it. “Maggie looked past Nathan in the direction of the house up on the
ridge. “I just want her to be happy.” Maggie walked back inside and slowly sat
on the worn, antique couch in the living room. She looked tired, but peaceful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I'm sure
she's happy, Maggie,” said Nathan softly. “She's got a lot going for her,
always has. I've always been a little jealous of her myself,” he teased. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Jealous?
Why, what on earth of?” Maggie asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, for
one thing you're the best cook in the state and she gets to eat your cooking
every day,” Nathan laughed. “Speaking of food, when's dinner?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh, you
always did manage to change the subject to food when you were around me. Get up
to your room and clean up a bit before you eat. Dinner is at six o'clock sharp.
So don't be late.” Maggie started picking up and fluffing the pillows from the
chairs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I'll be
there,” said Nathan. He grabbed his bags and headed up the stairs, turning to
watch Maggie shuffle off toward the kitchen. He knew she would prepare
something special tonight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">That night,
after a wonderful dinner, Nathan decided to go for a walk to enjoy the evening
air. As he walked along an old dirt path that wound around the property of the
Raven Inn, he couldn't help staring up at the house where Marcie lived. Did he
really want to see her again after all this time? Deep down inside Nathan knew
that he did, but his head wouldn't allow his heart to even dream about being
with her again. She was so beautiful. He could remember her movements and her
soft dark hair that always hid a little bit of her face. How would it be if
they met again? Would it be like it was back then? Would he still feel at ease
with her like when he was younger? They used to talk forever until her mother
would start calling out her name in the quiet night. Nathan had left her and
this town to pursue an unknown future, not knowing where he would finally end
up. He only knew that it was something he had to do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He stood in
the dark and thought about the night he said goodbye to her. She sobbed
quietly. The tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked deeply into his eyes.
She seemed to be looking for something that he wasn't telling her. He didn't
even understand at the time why he had to go away; just that he desperately
needed a change. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The world
always seems so much bigger when you're born and raised in a small town like
Fairhaven. It almost calls you away, beckoning you to explore the unknown. At
least, that's what he felt at the time, and so he left. But just as he had
heard something calling him away, he now felt called to return for a while and
he didn't know how he would even begin to explain that to Marcie. Would she
even let him explain? Maybe tomorrow he would see her and it would be like old
times again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">As he turned
to walk back to the house he heard someone walking around in the woods near
him. “Hello,” he called into the darkness. He continued to walk and again he
heard the noise in the woods. It sounded like the cracking of twigs under
someone’s feet. Nathan stood very still and listened, but he didn't hear
anything. “Probably a rabbit,” he thought. But just as he started walking
again, he heard the noise. This time it was going away from him and with quick
steps. Nathan’s curiosity got the best of him, so he walked toward the wooded
area and the footsteps. “Hello, is somebody there?” he shouted. But no answer
came. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It was pitch
black and Nathan couldn't see anything at all, so he decided to just give up
and head back to The Raven. It was too late to be chasing things through the
woods anyway. As he turned to head back, the noise started again, except this
time it seemed to be coming toward him. Nathan kept walking but turned to see
if he could see anything behind him, nothing but complete darkness. However,
the steps seemed faster now and even sounded as if something was running toward
him. He quickened his pace, but the steps sounded closer now and faster. Nathan
could hear heavy breathing now, almost directly behind him. He stopped and
turned to face his mystery stalker, but as he turned, the steps sounded as
though they were right behind him. The steps continued closer and closer until
suddenly, Nathan felt a heavy breath on his face and the steps seemed to run
right through him. He closed his eyes, shocked that it just ran past him, through
him or around him. He wasn't sure. His head bounced back and then forward as
though something had actually passed through him. Then, it was gone. Nathan was
gripped with overwhelming fear, making it impossible for him to move. He just
stood still while the steps and the panting breath rushed by him. And then it
was quiet again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan opened
his eyes, but there was nothing to see. Only darkness surrounded him in the
woods. Finally, he got the courage to look around him, but again, there was
nothing there. Nathan backed out of the woods and out into the open. There was
nothing as far as he could see. “Was it an animal just running scared? It must
have been,” he reassured himself. “What else could it be?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan made
his way back to his room still shaken. As he crawled back into his bed and
closed his eyes he thought, “This is great. You get scared the first night back
by some animal in the woods.” As he dismissed the whole thing and tried to put
it out of his mind, he started to drift off to sleep. There was something very
strange, but at the same time, very familiar about what had happened to him
tonight. He didn't understand it, and he was too tired to try to figure it out
now. He reached for the light by his bed and turned it off. Everything felt
familiar to him here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-font-kerning: 16.0pt;"><br clear="ALL" style="page-break-before: always;" />
</span></b>
<h1 align="center" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="" name="CHAP3"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">CHAPTER 3</span></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></h1>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The next
morning Maggie treated Nathan to a big country breakfast like he hadn't tasted
since he left home. It was a beautiful day and he was eager to go check out the
town and see what changes had taken place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Maggie, that
was the best meal I've had in ages. You’re still the best cook around,” he
bragged loudly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh, hush.
It's been so long since you had a good home-cooked meal you're just bound to
compliment my cooking,” Maggie said in a modest tone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, I
still know a good meal when I eat one. Sorry to eat and run,” he said standing
up from the table. “But, I really want to go exploring today.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Not too much
has changed around here since you left us. Maybe a new store or two and a few
different folks living here, but not much else.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, I
still want to see—” Nathan was interrupted by a call from the hallway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Mom, could
you please give me a hand? I've brought you some things from the store and I
need some help carrying them in,” a familiar voice called from out front. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Just then
Nathan looked up to see Marcie standing in the doorway. At first they just
stared at one another without saying a word. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I'm a little
tied up, but I'm sure Nathan here will be glad to give you a hand with the
things. Right Nathan?” Maggie teased, as she waited for Marcie's reaction. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Nathan, it's
you. I can't believe it,” Marcie said looking shocked. “When did you get into
town?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yesterday.
You look absolutely, good. I mean, great. You look great.” Again there was
silence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Of course,
if you’re not going to help her I could carry in the things myself, even though
I'm just an old woman with small, thin arms,” Maggie said in an amused tone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“No, no I've
got it,” Nathan replied, his eyes still fixed on Marcie. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“This way,”
Marcie said pointing to the car outside, never taking her eyes off of him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">They both
walked outside without speaking, totally unprepared for this moment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, I hear
you almost got married.” Nathan didn't know how to even begin a conversation
with Marcie. Already, he wished he hadn't mentioned her failed attempt to
marry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yeah,
almost. I guess it was for the best that it didn't work out though. He was a
busy man, always on the go. He didn't really know anything else except his
work.” Marcie paused. “Well, look at me. We see each other after all these
years and within moments I'm sharing my personal life with you.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Sorry, I
didn't mean to pry. I was just trying to think of something to say to you after
all this time. I picked the wrong subject.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Never mind,
it's all right. It was over before it started. I think Mom's glad it never
happened. She never cared for him much. Maybe she was right. Maybe it's best
that the marriage didn't work out.” Marcie looked down at the ground and Nathan
could see that it was a hard subject for her to discuss. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Come on,
let's get these things in the house before Maggie comes out here and starts
carrying them in herself.” Nathan grabbed the bags and started toward the
house. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Marcie
lingered at the car a few moments to collect herself. Then she grabbed the last
couple of bags and followed him inside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Nathan was
just about to go into town, Marcie,” Maggie said, as she began browsing through
the bags. “Why don't you go along and show him the changes around here?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh, where
are you off to?” Marcie asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I just
wanted to take a drive around the town and maybe drop in and say hello to a few
folks. But if you're busy—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, I was
going to help Mom put these things away.” Marcie started to quickly go through
the bags and sort out everything. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I've got
this darlin’,” Maggie said, grabbing the things out of her hands. “You two run
along. I can handle it from here.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh, all
right then.” Marcie picked up her purse. “Well, ready then?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan and
Marcie drove into town with only polite conversation between them. It was
really awkward being together after all these years with nothing to say to each
other. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Any
particular place you wanted to go?” Marcie asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“How about a
walk through the park?” Nathan suggested. “It's a beautiful day and I used to
love going there as a kid.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Walking along
the brick-paved paths in the park brought back a lot of memories for Nathan,
the smells, the sounds and the gorgeous gardens. He wanted very much to get to
know Marcie again. Why did it have to be so hard? “Uh, let's sit for a while,”
suggested Nathan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Walking over
to a nearby bench, they took a seat underneath an old maple tree. Marcie looked
the same, just as Nathan had remembered her, with her hair hiding parts of her
lovely face and a smile that always put him at ease. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Marcie,”
Nathan began. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Nathan,
please. You don't owe me an explanation. You did what you felt you had to do. I
don't have any ill feelings about us, if that's what you're worried about. You
did what you thought you had to do at the time and that's it. Maybe it was the
right thing to happen for both of us. Anyway, look at you, a writer. Do you
think that would have ever come about if we had gotten married and tried to
raise a family? Would you have just gotten a job, any job, just to make ends
meet? Your writing would have never taken off.” Marcie softly touched Nathan’s
shoulder and smiled, “But I do hope we can be friends again.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan didn't
know what to feel at this point. He couldn't think of how to respond to her
right now. His world was turned upside down. Just looking at her took his
breath away, but he tried hard to disguise his true feelings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“We can
always be friends, Marcie. I've known you since I was a boy. You and your
mother are like family to me.” Nathan gave a quick smile and looked away.
“Family,” he thought. He knew it was much more than a family feeling that made
his heart beat twice as fast each time they looked at each other. Maybe it was
best left alone. What if she was right? Nathan loved writing and he also liked
his life right now. Was there room in his life for anyone else? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">They just sat
for a while saying nothing, stealing looks without the other noticing and then
staring down at their feet. “This visit was a big mistake,” Nathan thought. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Marcie took
Nathan around the town of Fairhaven and pointed out some of the changes that
had taken place. Old favorite stores had gone out of business and had been
replaced by more modern buildings. Some of the familiar faces were still
around, but working in different occupations now. Little by little Nathan
placed the names and faces together in his mind, drawing on his past memories.
Sometimes his memory failed him, but he still smiled as though he had known
them for years. He probably had, but he somehow misplaced more information than
he could remember. It was almost like he was coming out of amnesia. Different
faces jogged memory after memory, like various short frames of film running
through his mind, until he was able to find their proper place in his boyhood. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“What about
Mark?” Nathan asked. “I know he's bound to be still kicking around here
someplace. What's he doing nowadays?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You won't
believe this, but he's the sheriff now.” Marcie watched as Nathan's face
drained of color. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Sheriff? He
stayed in more trouble with the police than anybody else in this town!” Nathan
laughed out loud. “This I've got to see. Where is he now?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Probably in
Jordan's Diner having lunch this time of day.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Jordan's,
man it's been ages since I was inside that place. You want to go and grab
something to eat? If I remember correctly, they had the best hamburgers I ever
tasted. Even since I moved away I haven't tasted any better.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You go
ahead,” Marcie replied. “I can't spend all day parading you around town. I have
to go and help Mom. We're running an inn you know. I'll catch up to you later.”
Marcie pointed the way to Jordan's for Nathan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Maybe we can
have dinner.” Nathan said as Marcie was walking away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I've got to
help Mom serve the evening meal.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“That's
right, I forget you're a working girl. Tell Maggie to hold my table for dinner
tonight.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Marcie
smiled, “Maybe we'll have dessert together.” She waved goodbye and headed back
to The Raven. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 10.0pt; tab-stops: -1.0in -.5in 0in 2.15pt 24.3pt; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Nathan stood
for a moment and watched her walk away wondering how or if Marcie would ever
allow him back in her life again. He only knew one thing for sure. He had never
stopped loving her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-47380537547741376092012-08-28T15:30:00.000-04:002012-08-28T16:12:31.661-04:00Recipe for Upside Down Cake<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAABi6etsWvjQO-ulAf8WHFZ5THurVi2IPAWW6bj4-QxzxDgr-TSIhUh0GePB5o_g54q-mGDcC7aMf80DAawmS8ZiILE3jd1j94nEjV67o6jR4wQt9vEPGhWFkEbouU5RgC82iv8qcb4k/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAABi6etsWvjQO-ulAf8WHFZ5THurVi2IPAWW6bj4-QxzxDgr-TSIhUh0GePB5o_g54q-mGDcC7aMf80DAawmS8ZiILE3jd1j94nEjV67o6jR4wQt9vEPGhWFkEbouU5RgC82iv8qcb4k/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Often in our
church we have baby dedications during our Sunday morning services. It’s an
important event in the life of our church. New parents, along with their
families and friends, show up in their Sunday best and make a statement to the
world by publicly dedicating their baby to the Lord. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">We believe that children, up until
a certain age, are too young to make a decision to be baptized because they
don’t yet understand enough about why we are commanded by Jesus to be baptized
and what it means to their Christian walk. Therefore, we encourage parents to
dedicate their baby to the Lord until he or she is old enough to decide on
their own to be baptized. It’s always a beautiful and moving part of our
service. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">One Sunday
morning we were having a baby dedication in our service. The young family
arrived early and they were shown to their seats. A host walked them through
the process of what would take place that morning. They were very excited. As part
of the celebration, a beautifully decorated cake was specially ordered to share
after the service. When the cake arrived, my sister, Robbie, just happened to be
in the lobby. Since there was no one else around at the time, the caterer
handed the cake to Robbie and asked her to take care of it. Panic suddenly
struck Robbie as she carefully held the cake in her hands. It was a gorgeous
cake with white frosting and pink roses. Robbie finally found out that the
celebration was to take place in a back room and so she was told to take the
cake there and leave it on one of the tables. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">When Robbie
arrived in the room there was a small table sitting in the corner. Robbie carefully
placed the cake down on the table and started to walk away. She was so relieved
to get the cake out of her hands and safely on the table. However, as she was
walking out of the room she heard a weird sound, kind of like a creaking sound.
As she turned around to look at the cake, she could see the table was leaning
to one side. Robbie felt like she was moving in slow motion as she tried to get
back to the table to save the cake, but just as she was about to grab the cake,
the table collapsed and the cake along with it. Of course, the cake fell icing
side down onto the floor. Robbie’s heart sank. What should she do? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Fortunately, a
friend, Donna, heard the commotion and came running into the room. She saw
Robbie down on the floor, trying to scrape the cake up with her hands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“Please, help
me!” Robbie shouted to the Donna. “We can still save the cake. No one will
know! Help me!” As she began picking up pieces of the cake, it just crumbled in
her hands. This was a disaster! The cake was completely ruined. As they
examined the table, they discovered that it only had three legs and someone had propped it up against the wall. It was very deceiving. It looked like a solid foundation for the cake, but things are not always as they appear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Donna quickly
pulled Robbie up from the floor, away from the cake. She knew the cake could not
be served, but apparently she had to convince Robbie to give up on her rescue
mission. Thinking quickly on her feet, Donna called a nearby market and ordered
a brand new cake. It would not be as beautiful as the original cake, but at least it
would be free of dirt and dust from the floor. Donna told Robbie to just leave
it to her and to go into the service. She would take care of everything from
there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Robbie entered
the service looking like she was in shock. When she told me what happened, I
have to confess, I spent the rest of the service laughing until I cried. Robbie
didn’t see the humor in the situation. Me? I always see the humor, right or
wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">The baby
dedication went off without a hitch after that. The family and friends gathered
in the room for cake and punch. None them were wise to what had taken place
just an hour before the celebration. The day was saved. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Unfortunately, the foundation
Robbie chose was unstable, even though it appeared to be solid and safe. It’s
so important that we choose the right foundation on which to build our life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation
as a wise builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should
build with care. For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already
laid, which is Jesus Christ.”</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> 1 Corinthians 3:10-11
(NIV)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">In this world
there are so many people building their lives on an unstable foundation because
they made a choice not to build Christ into their lives. Make sure you start
with the right foundation, Jesus Christ. No other foundation will
do. Don’t run the risk of building everything on a foundation that will, without
a doubt, eventually crumble and topple over. You will find yourself down on the
floor scraping up the remaining bits and pieces of your life. Jesus is the only
solid foundation to build on. Start there and you will be sure of a successful
life here and in the hereafter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">“He will be the sure foundation for your times, a
rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the Lord is the
key to this treasure.”</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> Isaiah 33:6 (NIV)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Life can be
shaky at times; leaving you feeling like everything might fall right out from
under you at any moment. But if you have built your life on the sure foundation
of Jesus, you will have an unlimited source of salvation, wisdom and knowledge.
Build on the fear of the Lord. This fear doesn’t mean being afraid of what God
might do to you, but it means respecting and acknowledging God in every area of
life. Acknowledging Him as your source for all you need for an exciting and
successful life, even in the middle of difficult seasons, will ensure you will
make it through anything life may throw at you. Your foundation will stand
strong in the face of storms and uncertain times. Stay away from the
three-legged tables that the world offers you. They may look solid, but they
cannot stand the test of time. That's a sure recipe for upside down cake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-75401093535251472332012-08-01T12:34:00.000-04:002012-08-01T12:34:55.515-04:00Chasing Angels Reviews Coming In<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVIwcz_BVZiYe3Qqh0Vql8OtRyqwjLnVyTOIk1zreOWUm4ZOlXs6MOCgg8EI6j8meW5oilo6Fr1toowNToIvZwMF6_XRPNJaY7SGL4jrPbPDNCpdkYbWlKdNsg9lIaEQXrcvrEmVC7rE/s1600/Image+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVIwcz_BVZiYe3Qqh0Vql8OtRyqwjLnVyTOIk1zreOWUm4ZOlXs6MOCgg8EI6j8meW5oilo6Fr1toowNToIvZwMF6_XRPNJaY7SGL4jrPbPDNCpdkYbWlKdNsg9lIaEQXrcvrEmVC7rE/s200/Image+3.jpg" width="139" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.lifeisabuffet.com/styled/index.html" target="_blank">Check out this link</a> to see what readers are saying about my latest book, "Chasing Angels."<br />
<br />
If you've read "Chasing Angels," please post a review on Amazon.com, Twitter or Facebook.<br />
<br />
Thanks for all your support, prayers and encouragement.Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-39976927872572449852012-07-24T12:40:00.000-04:002012-09-08T00:40:37.497-04:00Mom's Homecoming<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB7b6AxkWTLOPeni1N0QYboDNOW_DnWU3qngRiZAv4JUq89YBooTIv696hE5KbOIdvCDYB11dfVGhobZgk9_fa1CAfOtnBhNH6kCIlSg67t9_Iy5hxqAdEMKX5go31iXbCuRX1U9UsqUI/s1600/IMG_0298.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB7b6AxkWTLOPeni1N0QYboDNOW_DnWU3qngRiZAv4JUq89YBooTIv696hE5KbOIdvCDYB11dfVGhobZgk9_fa1CAfOtnBhNH6kCIlSg67t9_Iy5hxqAdEMKX5go31iXbCuRX1U9UsqUI/s320/IMG_0298.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
On July 5th, 2012 our mom finally ended her battle with dementia and went home to be with the Lord. It was her true desire and focus to be with her Savior and her family in Heaven. The last few days were very difficult, but God gave us some very special moments with Mom that we will treasure always.<br />
<br />
We live with the hope and faith of knowing that she is now at complete peace. She is healed and whole. Her brain no longer suffers from the brutal symptoms of the dementia that caused her to slowly slip away from us every day.<br />
<br />
Where does this hope come from? My Christian faith in Jesus Christ. Jesus gave up all his deity in Heaven to come here and live out life as a man. Yes, He was God and man, but He suffered all of the trials, temptations, pain, sadness, etc. that we experience in this life. Why? So He could restore our relationship with God and become the perfect sacrifice for our sins. Not just the sins we committed in the past, but the sins we will commit in the future. He died for those who haven't even been born yet. It is in that gift of salvation that I place my hope and my future. Mom's life just ended here on earth, but her eternity has just begun and it will never end. So when she slipped away from us here we mourned her passing, but we celebrated her new home in Heaven.<br />
<br />
This is our temporary home. Heaven is our permanent home. I love the song by Building 429 that says, "All I know is I'm not home yet. This is not where I belong. Take this world and give me Jesus. This is not where I belong."<br />
<br />
Mom was so ready for her permanent home. It's amazing how God starts preparing your spirit to go home. As we watched her in her last moments, she seemed to be at complete peace. She did open her eyes for a short period and we were able to tell her how much we loved her and that we would be fine here. We didn't want her holding on for our sakes. We watched her try to communicate with us by moving her eyebrows up and down. There were lots of tears, but also lots of joy. We felt like we had helped Mom feel like she could let go and run into His arms. That's the way I always pictured her homecoming. She would just take off running free, with no obstacles holding her back. Jesus would be standing there with His arms wide open, waiting to embrace her with a love that only He could give.<br />
<br />
We miss Mom more than I can say, but when I worship in church I always picture her worshipping right along with us, free and happy. She was unable to attend church during her last few years. Yet now I feel like she is able to worship with us. That is a powerful vision for me.<br />
<br />
I have felt nothing but peace since our mom's passing. That's a peace that only comes from our hope and faith in Jesus Christ. This peace is a gift that we just have to reach out and accept. There are no strings attached. There is nothing you must do to earn it. It's a pure gift. To receive it you just need to say, "Jesus, I ask your forgiveness for my sins, past, present and future. I want to serve you with the rest of my life. Thank you for your gift of salvation. I accept it now. I am a Christian. Christ now lives in me. Amen." It's that simple. You will look the same and maybe even feel the same at first. But the same power that resurrected Christ from the grave will now live inside of you. That's a lot of power. And believe me, to walk out life here on earth, you will need every bit of that power every day.<br />
<br />
It's such a simple thing to do in order to receive that same hope and faith that brings peace beyond your own understanding. I pray you accept that gift today. I pray everyone finds this kind of peace and hope. It is possible for everyone to receive this gift. Reach out and grab it while you can.<br />
<br />
<br />Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-12427042851399937212012-07-03T15:08:00.000-04:002012-07-03T15:08:34.857-04:00How to Create a Clickable Table of Contents<!--[if !mso]>
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In preparing my newest mystery novel, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Chasing-Angels-ebook/dp/B008DGHCSQ/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1340312552&sr=1-2&keywords=Polly+Boyette" target="_blank">“Chasing Angels”</a> for publishing
on Kindle one of the most difficult things for me to figure out was how to
make a clickable table of contents. I was able to find lots of instructions on
the internet for setting up a table of contents in Word (I was using Word
2008), but no clear instructions for making the table of contents clickable for
the Kindle. It seemed all of the instructions I found made it appear way more
difficult than was necessary. Once I finally figured out how to link my
chapters and make them clickable on the Kindle, I decided I should share this
information in simple terms for others to use. It is really quite simple once
you understand it. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Here is how I managed to make my table of contents clickable
for Kindle (using Word 2008):</div>
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After you establish your Table of Contents in your book. Go
to each of your chapter headings in your book. Highlight each heading and click
Insert from your menu: it should look like this: </div>
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Click on Bookmark and this window will open:</div>
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Type in the name of your bookmark. (It can be anything you
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“Add.” </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqdLw1vr9ReQDgnV0R5UcRlqNVepMKeuL7q7tjP23HsaVUGJLUgi_1R0fhtCMvYmD5C2SQ2ChW_iAOXcqq5iiFdIGvK6AUp-uqfTlYeyarJGmtUcfU_cThfM-gbUJq49t4zAkOu34hvc/s1600/Bookmark+Add.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqdLw1vr9ReQDgnV0R5UcRlqNVepMKeuL7q7tjP23HsaVUGJLUgi_1R0fhtCMvYmD5C2SQ2ChW_iAOXcqq5iiFdIGvK6AUp-uqfTlYeyarJGmtUcfU_cThfM-gbUJq49t4zAkOu34hvc/s320/Bookmark+Add.tiff" width="307" /></a></div>
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Then go to your Table of Contents and highlight Chapter 1
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are going to click on “Hyperlink.”</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPOqZA9OnpxvSVB5LrhIWCCbOvK0mterSXvZJUVDblLLDOGcyh6fzlR6cZIxwEEO1NwT2eRE3GW7yhJf_T5uzBoysx53ZoapCFInsF2FJ7Jl6u2jtxSmAAB-5_m677bIzs4fBt7pVyItI/s1600/Hyperlink+screenshot.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPOqZA9OnpxvSVB5LrhIWCCbOvK0mterSXvZJUVDblLLDOGcyh6fzlR6cZIxwEEO1NwT2eRE3GW7yhJf_T5uzBoysx53ZoapCFInsF2FJ7Jl6u2jtxSmAAB-5_m677bIzs4fBt7pVyItI/s320/Hyperlink+screenshot.tiff" width="141" /></a></div>
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When you click on “Hyperlink” this window will open:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjevEP84dzuBoDG2KBKI-fHg3w62GPvgDtkEp3uX8nYP4G8lPmvY-4Sx0PayrjrUUC8sfngQ73TWlcrvy-YhLRnhIrqnP2lMpbsn-5GaAbi_TRW7yz-bmXDHLh8iDWS8YQqVUARK2DT1E/s1600/Locate+screenshot.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjevEP84dzuBoDG2KBKI-fHg3w62GPvgDtkEp3uX8nYP4G8lPmvY-4Sx0PayrjrUUC8sfngQ73TWlcrvy-YhLRnhIrqnP2lMpbsn-5GaAbi_TRW7yz-bmXDHLh8iDWS8YQqVUARK2DT1E/s320/Locate+screenshot.tiff" width="320" /></a></div>
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Click on “Document” in the window and then “Locate” to find
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bookmark for that Chapter heading. </div>
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Select Chapter1 then click OK. This links the Chapter 1 in
your Table of Contents to the bookmark you created for your Chapter Heading in
your book. Do this for each of your Chapter headings and each Chapter listing
in your table of contents. You can bookmark all of your Chapters first in your
book and then go to your Table of Contents and hyperlink each one to those
bookmarks. Or you can create the bookmark and then the hyperlink as you go,
whichever works for you. I chose to create all of the bookmarks for my Chapter
Headings within the book first and then went back and added the hyperlinks for each
Chapter listed in my Table of Contents. When you’re done, your Chapters will be
linked to your Chapter headings in your book.</div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-78831591063598656192012-06-22T11:54:00.000-04:002012-06-22T11:56:45.208-04:00Now Available on Kindle!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Chasing-Angels-ebook/dp/B008DGHCSQ/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1340312552&sr=1-2&keywords=Polly+Boyette" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CJA256_oA_LeirfC22AKXoA3GNmlpDnK4tRlm3kv5lcWeCFXirni_yhENc9ThyjVbyM38UdNxhfmUGJRBfcbE_s6biOZPfVkHlKNAiZgtoAerw6h1cIK9YFR1wCccqSuagKKNw4xi4Q/s320/Image+3.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
<br />
Looking for a great Summer read? Check out my latest book, Chasing Angels. If you love to read mysteries and suspense novels, you'll love this book.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><em>Chasing Angels </em></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">is about Nathan Staby, a successful writer who returns to his hometown of Fairhaven to find answers to the mysterious death of his childhood friend, Robert Sanding. Nathan has no idea his decision to go back home will begin the unraveling of so many tightly held secrets and memories from his past; secrets involving death, deception and even an encounter with an angel.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">A young boy himself at the time of Robert’s death, Nathan had been the one to discover his friend’s body buried beneath a wet pile of leaves in the woods near his house. Yet the mystery of how Robert died has haunted him for many years, with only the memory of finding the body and that of a mysterious stranger waving to him from the woods as he ran away from the scene. The angelic figure even called out his name, “Goodnight Nathan. Goodnight.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">After only a short time of being back in Fairhaven Nathan is alarmed to hear the news that another child has been found dead in the woods. The body belongs to a local boy named Todd Harper. The horrific event jars Nathan’s memory to the day he found Robert’s body in the very same woods. He reluctantly rides along with the sheriff to have a look at the scene. There, as he stares at the lifeless body of Todd Harper, he knows he has to be part of the investigation, believing in some strange way, Todd’s death is connected to Robert’s.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Nathan’s world turns upside down again when he reconnects with Marcie Sanding, his childhood sweetheart and Robert’s sister. He finds himself not only fighting for answers to his past, but also fighting to rekindle the only true love he has ever known. Nathan realizes now he can’t live without her in his life, but he’s not sure she feels the same for him. His attention is torn between unearthing the mysteries of his past and exploring his chance for a future with Marcie.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><em>Chasing Angels </em></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">is filled with mystery, blackmail, deception, love, angels and more. This novel will put Nathan through rigorous trials of torment and doubt, leading up to the final climatic unraveling of a lifelong mystery.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">If you love to read just for the pleasure of reading, you will love Chasing Angels. It is pure entertainment and will keep you turning the page to see what happens next.</span><br />
<br />Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-65589815797901618972012-06-17T18:14:00.000-04:002012-06-17T18:15:13.547-04:00Coming Soon<br />
<div id="contentContainer" style="background-image: url(http://www.lifeisabuffet.com/rw_common/themes/delta/images/menu_right_bg.png); background-position: 100% 2px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); border-left-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); border-right-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); border-top-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #333333; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', Lucida, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-right: 235px;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCBuUJDO87OkzBitDVCKoyKHj3ob2sdfL0smTMTgFa5-SFPylVZ3kRWmc1-mC_IdctQRpd9dhmW6iPBqbaMUCOnIAKcSiyMfMfd6n6fMK1R5-6v09Cf0s_8yPSUw_QwRrZVozlQIy673U/s1600/Image+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCBuUJDO87OkzBitDVCKoyKHj3ob2sdfL0smTMTgFa5-SFPylVZ3kRWmc1-mC_IdctQRpd9dhmW6iPBqbaMUCOnIAKcSiyMfMfd6n6fMK1R5-6v09Cf0s_8yPSUw_QwRrZVozlQIy673U/s200/Image+3.jpg" width="139" /></a></div>
<div id="content" style="padding-bottom: 30px; padding-left: 30px; padding-right: 30px; padding-top: 30px;">
<em>Chasing Angels </em>is about Nathan Staby, a successful writer who returns to his hometown of Fairhaven to find answers to the mysterious death of his childhood friend, Robert Sanding. Nathan has no idea his decision to go back home will begin the unraveling of so many tightly held secrets and memories from his past; secrets involving death, deception and even an encounter with an angel.<br />
<br />
A young boy himself at the time of Robert’s death, Nathan had been the one to discover his friend’s body buried beneath a wet pile of leaves in the woods near his house. Yet the mystery of how Robert died has haunted him for many years, with only the memory of finding the body and that of a mysterious stranger waving to him from the woods as he ran away from the scene. The angelic figure even called out his name, “Goodnight Nathan. Goodnight.”<br />
<br />
After only a short time of being back in Fairhaven Nathan is alarmed to hear the news that another child has been found dead in the woods. The body belongs to a local boy named Todd Harper. The horrific event jars Nathan’s memory to the day he found Robert’s body in the very same woods. He reluctantly rides along with the sheriff to have a look at the scene. There, as he stares at the lifeless body of Todd Harper, he knows he has to be part of the investigation, believing in some strange way, Todd’s death is connected to Robert’s.<br />
<br />
Nathan’s world turns upside down again when he reconnects with Marcie Sanding, his childhood sweetheart and Robert’s sister. He finds himself not only fighting for answers to his past, but also fighting to rekindle the only true love he has ever known. Nathan realizes now he can’t live without her in his life, but he’s not sure she feels the same for him. His attention is torn between unearthing the mysteries of his past and exploring his chance for a future with Marcie.<br />
<br />
<em>Chasing Angels </em>is filled with mystery, blackmail, deception, love, angels and more. This novel will put Nathan through rigorous trials of torment and doubt, leading up to the final climatic unraveling of a lifelong mystery.<br />
<br />
If you love to read just for the pleasure of reading, you will love Chasing Angels. It is pure entertainment and will keep you turning the page to see what happens next.</div>
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Coming Soon to Kindle</div>
</div>Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-120077320246702312012-05-29T12:49:00.000-04:002012-05-29T12:51:07.379-04:00So What's On Your Plate?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hWBdccufX8T3MMd3rtkjDUwVb2dOeM2JycGA8b1L1Wjx0HL5V37pLndfm5E6ToZU0V3FVcVodgKGha4rR1jbAvzfI8w6sku2-UsVmmlI87FGsU_GceoTbXcedlgWfyaX_2HJZsHIAbs/s1600/IMG_0127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hWBdccufX8T3MMd3rtkjDUwVb2dOeM2JycGA8b1L1Wjx0HL5V37pLndfm5E6ToZU0V3FVcVodgKGha4rR1jbAvzfI8w6sku2-UsVmmlI87FGsU_GceoTbXcedlgWfyaX_2HJZsHIAbs/s320/IMG_0127.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hey everyone! My 2nd book in the Life is a Buffet series, "So What's On Your Plate?" is now available on Kindle. This book contains hilarious stories and simple biblical principles about making wise choices. It makes a great gift for someone who may be going through a rough season in their life or for someone who just needs some laughter in their day. You can <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Life-Is-A-Buffet-ebook/dp/B007OU4D6Q/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1334582648&sr=1-1" target="_blank">click here</a> to check it out for yourself. I've also included one of the stories here along with a teaching so you can get the flavor of the book. You can also visit my website at <a href="http://www.lifeisabuffet.com/">www.lifeisabuffet.com</a> to read reviews for "Life is a Buffet So What's On Your Plate."Enjoy!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<div class="s4" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="s3" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">HOW’D THAT GET THERE?</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">My sister, Robbie and I took a trip not to</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">o</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> long ago in her car and when we stopped for gas I opened up her trunk to get something and starting thinking to myself, "what if we have a flat tire on this trip?"</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">I decided to take a glance and make sure I knew where the spare tire was and the tools I would need if I had to change the tire along side the road.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">Robbie drives a Honda CRV</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">Y</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">ou </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">have to </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">pop up the window and then open the hatch to get into the back.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">I moved things around and pulled up the </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">floor covering</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> in the back looking for the spare tire, but it was nowhere to be found. </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
<div class="s2" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="s6" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">"Robbie, come back here," I yelled.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">Robbie slowly climbed out of the car and strolled to the back of the car where I was standing with my hands on my hips</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">I was</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> looking very agitated. </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
<div class="s6" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">
<span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="s6" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">"What's up?" asked Robbie.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
<div class="s6" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">
<span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="s6" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">"Where is your spare tire?" I asked. </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
<div class="s6" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">
<span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="s6" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">"I don't know.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">Isn't it in the trunk there?" Robbie asked, sticking her head in to look. </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
<div class="s6" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">
<span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="s6" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">"No, it's not," I replied and proceeded to give her a lecture about riding around town without a spare tire. </span></span></div>
<div class="s6" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 14px;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="s6" style="line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-indent: 36px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">For the rest of the trip, every time I got the chance, I reminded her how important it was to have a spare tire.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">I mean, I'm the older sister so it was my responsibility to ride her about this. </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">"Will you stop with the spare tire thing already?</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">If we have a flat tire we'll just ride to the closest station and get it fixed," said Robbie with a look of disgust on her face.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">I decided to let up for awhile and enjoy the rest of the trip. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">When we arrived back home, Robbie decided to wash her car and vacuum it out.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">"She cleans out her car, but she doesn't pay attention to the important things, like a spare tire," I mumbled to myself as I went inside the house.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">Just as I sat down to read the newspaper, Robbie yelled for me to come back outside.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">I mumbled some more, but made my way back out.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">There she was, standing behind her car with a very smug look on her face. </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">"What is it?" I asked impatiently. </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">"I found my spare tire," she said. </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">I popped opened the back window, swung open the back door and looked inside the trunk.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">“</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">Where</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">,</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">I don't see it?" I said, pulling up everything to look underneath it. </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">Robbie grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the car.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">She then slammed the back door shut and pointed to the spare tire that was hanging </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">there on the back.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">I couldn't believe it.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">We had opened that door a hundred times on our trip, while we frantically looked for the spare tire and never saw it hanging on the back of the car</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">I felt like an idiot. </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">"See, I do too have a spare tire," Robbie said proudly.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">I had no answer back.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">We just stared at each other and then burst into laughter.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">The spare tire had been the subject at hand the whole trip and now it had mysteriously appeared on the back of the car.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">We laughed at ourselves and how we could have been so blind.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">One of us </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">not seeing </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">it there was one thing, but both of us?</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">How humiliating.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> You’ve heard the saying, “What’s two times zero?” </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">Sometimes the answer we seek is right in front of us and we just pass right by it. We search</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">,</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> worry and scratch our heads.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">We make the solution seem very complicated and out of reach, but </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">often </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">it's hanging right in front of us. </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">Prayer reveals answers to our problems</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> if we p</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">ut time aside for meditating on His Word and let God speak to </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">us</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">He knows the problems and holds the answers.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">We just need to stop frantically running from place to place trying to find the answers for ourselves and learn to be still and listen for His voice.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">He does still speak to us today.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">We just don't take the time to listen.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">We're too busy, or </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">we think </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">the problem's too big, or </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">we believe we </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">can </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">handle our problems all</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> by</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">ourselves.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">This kind of thinking</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">keeps us from finding the answers God has placed right in front of us.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">If we just s</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">low down</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">, ta</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">ke a step back</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> and then b</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">e still and listen</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> we will find the answers we need in life</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">. </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">By the way, </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">Robbie recently put a big tire cover over her spare tire so it will be more visible in the future.</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">We found the tire, n</span><span class="s3" style="line-height: 14px;">ow if we could only find the jack.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s3" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></div>Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-17142209142373717962012-05-10T09:22:00.000-04:002012-05-11T14:21:41.637-04:00Be Strong and Courageous<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There are seasons in life that are joyful, happy and just plain extraordinary. Then there are the seasons when you feel like you are overwhelmed, sad and sometimes just plain exhausted. Ever have one of those seasons?<br />
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Our mom, AC, has been living with my sister, Robbie and I for about 25 years. We have given her the best care we could possibly provide, but there came a time when we realized we could no longer care for her in our home. Mom is 89 years old now and in the late stages of dementia. We felt it was no longer safe for her to be in our home. We had someone assisting us for 25 hours a week, but the other times were too scary to even think about. Sometimes we would come home from grocery shopping or church and find the water running or that Mom had fallen. On one occasion I remember arriving home to find Mom had been out the front door and we live on a lake. It was frightening to say the least.<br />
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So Robbie and I made the hard decision to place Mom in a nursing center where she would receive around the clock care and supervision. This was one of the hardest decisions I have ever made. After giving Mom the best care we possibly could for 25 years I now had to place her in the hands of strangers and walk away. Oh we visit her daily, but still, you have the sensation of just abandoning your parent to the trust and care of people you've never met. Robbie and I didn't want Mom's last days to have to end this way. She raised four children and was always there when we came home from school. We were hoping and praying she would just go peacefully in her sleep one night, but that hasn't happened.<br />
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I wasn't prepared for all of the feelings I experienced once we placed Mom in nursing care. I felt angry, frustrated, sad and I was overwhelmed with guilt. I wanted to do more. I wanted to keep her in our home until she passed. But that meant putting my life on hold for an undetermined number of years. It meant being away from home at times and having someone else looking out for Mom and praying nothing went wrong while I was away. In addition, I felt an incredible amount of frustration and stress while caring for Mom in our home. It wasn't because I didn't love Mom. I understand now that I have an incredible amount of love and respect for Mom. But it was because I was limited in the type of care I could provide for her. Often she just sat on the couch staring out at the world going by. She didn't want to go outside or even let us push her around the neighborhood in a wheelchair. She often had mental meltdowns if there was any amount of variation in her daily routine. I kept telling myself we could manage her care, but it was getting more and more difficult. Every time I passed her sitting in the living room I felt guilty that I couldn't do more to engage her or to eliminate her confusion and despair.<br />
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Mom also suffered with chronic pain in her shoulders. She took pain pills to help, but nothing seemed to make her comfortable. So when the opportunity came to place her in a facility of our choice, we decided to go for it. The nursing center only gave us about 48 hours to make this difficult decision because they had a long waiting list. If we didn't take the room, somebody else was available to take it. Then we could find ourselves waiting a year or longer for another opportunity in a place of our choosing.<br />
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Years earlier our dad had a series of strokes and was placed in a hospital. Suddenly one afternoon the hospital called and said we are discharging your father and you must find a place for him right away. Our mom wasn't able to care for him at home and so we found ourselves scrambling to find a temporary place for him until we could arrange care at home. Unfortunately we didn't have the opportunity or time to choose a preferable place. He only lived a couple of days after being placed in the facility we were forced to select. I promised myself that would never happen again. Therefore, having the ability to select a place for Mom that we felt would give her the best care was an opportunity we didn't want to pass up.<br />
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After placing Mom in a nursing facility we found out how empty our lives felt after being caregivers for so many years. We thought we would breathe an air of relief, but instead we found ourselves worrying and feeling guilty. Every time I pass Mom's room in our home, I start to cry. Did I do all I could do for her? Was there a better way? If I had unlimited funds I'm sure I could have arranged for a better situation. However, reality dictates our choices. I pray Mom knows we love her very much and that we just want to do what we feel is the best for her. And she tells us constantly how much she loves us. I'm thankful for that.<br />
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The last visit with Mom I sat by her bedside and listened as she sang out loud to Jesus. It wasn't a song I had ever heard before. She was making it up as she went along. She was singing in the Spirit. She sang words of praise and thanks for her family, for God's love and for a home in heaven that she would one day inherit. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I had never heard her sing in such a wonderful way. Her eyes were fixed on another place, perhaps beyond where I could see. I believe she was looking straight into the eyes of Jesus. At one point she looked at Robbie and then me and said, "Help Steve build the church." (Steve is the pastor of our church). "Have fun at church. Enjoy your time there." You have no idea how incredible these words were coming from my mom. Before, she always resented our going to church because it took time away from her. She didn't believe in giving money towards building new facilities for the future. She always seemed focused on herself. But now she was talking about giving, building, and enjoying our walk with the Lord. My eyes flooded with tears.<br />
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When we pray and ask Jesus to help us not to have to suffer through the tough times we fail to have the faith that he chooses to take us through those tough times and not around them. The Holy Spirit can give us strength when we are weak. Walking through the difficult times gives us a different perspective. I don't believe I have ever felt such incredible love and admiration for my mom as I do now. I've also had the privilege of seeing the Holy Spirit comfort her to the point of hearing her sing his praises at the top of her voice. Whether I was a Christian or not I reckon I would have had to walk through this hard time with Mom, but I'm so glad I get to do it with Christ by my side. I can't imagine what this would be like without him encouraging me, comforting me, strengthening me and showing me the way with wisdom and direction.<br />
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I don't know how much longer Mom has on this earth. Her mind is slowing slipping away. But I do know that even though she isn't always aware of what's going on around her here in this place, she is so aware of another realm. It's a spiritual realm where I believe the Holy Spirit ministers to her and gives her peace. One day, I don't know when or how, she will slip into the arms of Christ and see him face to face. I rest in knowing I will see her again one day, well and whole. We'll sing his praises together. Then I hope to tell her how I wanted to do so much more for her. But then she'll probably just say, "Don't worry anymore. We have all eternity together now." Thank you Jesus for that gift. It gives me hope and courage. As I walk through each day I believe I hear God telling me, just as he told Joshua when he was heading into battle, "Be strong and courageous. I will not abandon you."<br />
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Life is wonderful, but sometimes it's also hard, but if you trust God you will be strong and courageous. He will walk through the good times and the hard times with you. Sometimes he will take you around trouble, but sometimes he will walk you straight through to the other side. Trust him daily, but always trust him.Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4651803636609279282.post-44443056183195266612012-04-16T11:56:00.001-04:002012-08-28T13:53:33.004-04:00Stop Your Whining<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I just recently bought a 2 month old Golden Retriever. His name is Indiana (Indy for short). He's adorable. I had a Golden named Sunny for 8 years. Sadly he developed a brain tumor and had to be put down a few weeks before Christmas 2011. I was devastated. He had been a close companion that followed my every move for all those years. I couldn't believe I had to let him go.
I missed Sunny so much. He was a great dog. He would go swimming with us. He loved to play ball. He was just a fun and loving dog.<br />
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So I decided to purchase another puppy, forgetting what it is to have a new baby around the house. I'm not a morning person, but now I'm up at 7am or earlier to feed Indy, and to let him out, and to play with him, and to make sure he doesn't eat the house. I have to supervise his every move. I'm used to sitting down in the evening and doing some work on my iPad, but since Indy has come along I find it's next to impossible to do anything, but follow him around and make sure he doesn't pee, poop or eat something that might kill him or, worse yet, make me want to kill him.<br />
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I'm looking forward to him growing up to being a mature, loving, obedient, and loyal companion that I know Goldies can be. In the meantime, I've got to get him through this learning stage. I've got to let him explore and correct him to keep him on the right path. I've got to protect him and feed him 3 to 4 meals a day to make sure he grows up to be strong and healthy. Indy needs special food because he can't chew the solid foods that a normal mature dog can eat. He requires my constant attention.<br />
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In the same way, when we first become Christians we're pretty much like Indy. We are excited. We need nurturing and protecting. We need a mentor to shadow us and teach us along the way. We need constant feeding and encouragement. But there comes a time when we should be able to stand on our own two feet. The word should be planted deeply inside us at this point and we should be looking to impact our world for Christ. We should be ready for solid food. However, this is not the case with many Christians. There are so many who have been serving Christ for many, many years, but they still need constant nurturing, encouragement, teaching and discipline. They get their way by whining and demanding the constant attention of leadership.
Hebrews 5:14 tells us, "But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil."<br />
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Are you still whining for attention or are you teaching and helping others? Do you require constant nurturing and cuddling? Let's always be growing and moving forward in our faith. If someone is constantly chasing behind the immature Christians there is no time to impact the world of non-believers out there. Let's stop salting the already-salted and be the salt and the light for the rest of the world.
Now, I must go and feed my puppy again. He's crying for his food. He knows how to use his whining to get attention.Polly Boyettehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10677190633865713149noreply@blogger.com1