The Heart of a Princess
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May. 31, 2009
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Why Did This Happen?
Read Hebrews 11:13-40
It's a simple question to understand, simple to say the four letter frase, simple enough that at some point in everyone's life they find themselves want to ask why did something happen?
Yet not so simple to answer.
I could go on about how Gos chastises whom He love and strengthens them like metal in a furnace, but can it truly be physical strength if I must decrease so that he may increase (John 3:30)? No, heaven forbid my own strength be held at a high asteem. Then what is he strengthening? The answer is but two equally as simple words.
The faith.
Your faith in Him, in his promise of salvation, redemtion, reward, and a place in the new earth. In his promises, that we may believe in them as the forefathers of the Old Testament: "these all died in faith, not having recieved the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were pursuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrams on the earth. (Hebrews 11:13)"
Jesus said "I go to prepare a place for you: for in My Father's house there are many masions." (Matthew) We are to look forward to our time in heaven with the Lord and not love this corrupt earth more than him. If sothing is to happen to it, then heaven will be that much better.
"For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country. (v.15) And truely, if they had been mindful of that from whence they came out, they might have the opportunity to have returned. (v.16)But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly: wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for he hath prepared them a city.
Faith if nessesary, for "without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he that cometh to God must believeth that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him. (v.6)" By faith Noah built the ark when it had never rained, by faith Abraham left the land he had always lived within and journied knowing not whither he went, by faith in God again Abraham was prepared to sacrifice Issac who was to be the multiplier of his decendants, by faith Joseph led the Isrealites through the dry cernter of the red sea - walls of water on either side.
"And what shall I say more? for time would fail me to tell of Gedeon, and of Barak, and of Samson, and of Jephthe; of David also, and Samuel, and of the prophets; (v.33)Who through faith sudued kingdoms; wrought righteosness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions,(v.34) quenched the violence of fire, escaped the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of aliens...
(v.36)And others had trials of cruel mockings, and scourgings, yea, moreover the bonds of imprisonment: (v.37)they were stoned, they were sawn asunder (in half): they wandered about in sheeps skins and goatskins, being destitude, afflicted, and tormented.(v.38) (Of whom the world was not worthy;) they wandered in the deserts, and in the mountains, and in den and caves of the earth.
(v.39)And these all , having obtained a good report through faith, recieved not the promise: (v.40)God haveing provided something better for us, that they without us should not be made perfect."
We have something to look forward to: one promise of the Messiah filled and the promise of his kingdom to come. Be strong in the Lord! And continue in faith that you may reach the fufillment of this promise that made this life worthwhile.
Blessing, Your Friend,
Gabrielle Carlucci |
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May. 4, 2009
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Hospital Sandwiches Out of the Machine are So Good...
Hello Dearies!
Yesterday exaution overtook me before I had even the inclination to write. So, being full of excitement as it was, I settled down this morning to relieve this very problem. Only to have it unserimoniously blow up in my face, being that I had forgotten to give the cats water and the bathroom floor was buried in the sands of Gershima. But I was particularly tired and grumpy this morning after my long day yesterday and ended up starting a argument that went into if the matinance men would indeed come, if ever, that the house must be cleaned and all that.
I never did finish that entry.
And so my day began on a rather sour note, leading to rather sour weather. Not that it put so much of a damper on my day as it made it uncomfortable. |
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Apr. 29, 2009
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So Tired!~
Well so much for fasting.
I really couldn't today, no matter how hard I tried. As it is, I spent the better half of this morning with my conscience saturated with the deep fogginess of sleep, invisible led weights pulling tirelessly at my eye-lids. But even on an hour of sleep, the driving force of moms appointment was enough (with a bit of encouragement from Mom's "outdoor voice") to stumble through the morning. Now this was no socilal call, be a very serious appointment indeed. From what I gather, the resent waves of sinus pain and a purpetually sore throat was caused by a second absessed tooth. You know, the one Mom had mentioned to the dentist when he removed th other one? Mom's tooth pulling has now apperently become an annual tradition. *laughs* So, I had to be up and at 'em at 6:30 to have ourselves showered, packed, and ready to go by the time dad stepped through that front door. Blame it on my exhausted state, but I was still rushing to be ready on time like usual. On time we were, though. We arrived at Good Drive for the fifth time this week, back to the artful but quick dentist who had done Mom's last tooth. Not knowing what to expect in lue of time, I grabbed my sketch book and took a running leap out the door.
With my showing tomowrrow, I really hoped to have a decent set of pictures within the series I'm working on now (family moments: Mom, Dad, baby) to show the gallery's owner, in the case that he is interested. You never know if something like this may gain you a foothold in the art world. And with an up and coming gallery like Axess 24 gaining publicity through contests and events in the public eye, there's a good chance they wouldn't turn down the option of a young artist. It would certainly draw attention: a fifteen year old conservative Amish girl leading the way into a hew generation of artists. I may very well not survive the attention, but at least it won't look as though I haven't put my effort into it. Plus, I want on with a mother spending time with her child, a plain mother reading, because that was the entire reason I decided to turn this project into a series. The lack of care enough to train the children of now, the lack of disipline on both the child and the praent, and the outstanding lack of fear of God at their falaires - are all filled to overflowing with greed and selfishness.
To ensure I had enough recent pieces of this, I started the outline of a little girl asleep against a couch cushion, her book still resting in her lap, a few days ago and needed to complete the final shading. It certainly occupied me the hour or so she took getting her tooth yanked. Although there where those few times when my vision just started swimming out in lala-land when I had to figit just a little more than usual. Yes, when we arrived home, sleep for both me and mom was definitly a top priority. With a salamie sandwich in had, back off to work Dad ran.
Well, he might have drove some of the way.
Dad came back home at 2:30 and took me back to Good Drive yet again. I was starting to understand what he ment be "feeling like a yoyo". This street we commute to almost daily, as it seem, just happens to not only house a large complex to medical offices, but also hospice and the lab they use. My TB tests, which are nesessary when you work with patients in the condition they are at the point of hospise, were paid for since I simply went across the street. TB tests aren't so bad; they don't hurt more than a small bug sting. Not even! They simply inject a small amount of protien underneath the first layer of skin, making a small whitish bubble. It then disipates, just goes away leaving a tiny red mark. The two days later I return for them to make sure that bubble hasn't hardened into a ball that screams I have taberculosous. It's truly yet another sign of the ultimate wisdom of God's perfect design. Imagine that, for a reason incomprehencable, the protien they use reacts in that one way and only one way to the TB virus. That it make a visible sign of change to show for an otherwise invisible desease.
As awed as this procedure makes me, I was grateful it would only need to be completed twice, today being my very last visit for a check. Everything, blessedly, came out negative. There wasn't even a red mark left with this one. Now if I could just kick this cough just that fast.
With Dad's second job fast aproaching, we rece to Wies to releve the lack of dessert back home, a true disaster. After that we began to worry mom might need something, and anyway, I wanted to get all the errands done before five so I could get enough sleep tonight. If today was a hourse than surly tomorrow, Lord willing, will be a mamoth. Mother did have a request, as a matter o' fact. I bet you can't possibly guess what she wanted me to make her?
Coffee. *grins*
Now I knew I would need to pour it for her, with her unstableness doubled after the blood loss. Mom's a bleeder, you must remember, so even a little can take you great stratchess to recover from. I took this convenient opportunity to call Ephrata and see if Penny could finally tell me if I needed anything for the class thats in a few days.
She was apsent yet again. This time I had called too late. This woman must never stay a full day. Ah, well, like I always say, such is life. *shrugs* By now I went about my business and got moms coffee pored so it could cool off while I ran off. I needed to get those errands done soon!
There was laundry detergant left to buy at Dollar General which was conviniently close to pizza hut. I used my very last coupon for a deliciously cheesy olive-laden mini pizza, to which dad toasted two sour kraut mustard and ketsup hot dogs from Sheetz. (oh weird people come to Sheetz! There was this man with his elderly grandmother who had a tatooed spider covering half his upper arm and nothing but a gunnie-T for a shirt. Boy did the look weird together, although at least her gank'sta! son cares) All eaten in the vicinity of arount twenty minutes. Yes, I know we ate out yesterday, but since I had a free meal and knew Mom would have been unforgivabley naseus over the sent of food cooking just then, me and dad splurged just this once. It won't happen again for a long time.
And then Dad had to go to work again.
So I came back and worked a bit on my picture, but ultimately took care of mom, who was, by now, considerablely hungry. Burried treasure tomato soup was the main dish with some crackers as an after dinner snack. I don''t know how she stands all those different textures all together, but she does. *laugh* That and cream of wheat will be the menu for at the least a month. Good thing tomatoes my favorite.
Enough writing for the time being. With a voluteer job in the morning, in the rainy morning, I have lots to prepare for the trip. Yup definitley a mamoth.
Blessings,
~Gabby C.~><> |
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Apr. 28, 2009
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What is Life?
My Dearest~
I must not forget this person. Manuel. It's a beautiful name I have naught but a clue to what it means, but I have placed a face on it. A person belongs behind that romantic sound. He works in a Wal-Mart as a casheer in electronics while he's getting his Bachelors degree, first mastering in English, then in Spanish. He's a patient person. He's a poet who can write and translate between the two. He started out translating Rudyard Kippling, a spanish poet who was at the hight of the romantic era in Spain, and Shakesbear, just to see how he would fair. And sudenly there the tallent lay! his poetry brought his life into it's epitimy There lay his purpose.
"Purpose plus passion equals legacy"
And in the last few years he wrote the entire Christmas story as a poem starting with sudden inspiration on the way to work. As if scribbling pages of notes and two stansas on a moving bus wasn't enough of a feat. Most times it comes at 3:00am when you can't seem to sleep.
His inspiration comes from the Bible Mom said he has an incredible mother. I believe he has an incredible God.
And he's humble too.
He's completely not a part of my world, but I, I want to be able to stand by my work and say "This is the hand of God!" not go silent for lack of nerve. And maybe he never mentioned God directly at first, be faith, hope and passion were his mantra. If God isn't love, than what is he?
I wish I could sit there and just listen to him quote his poetry, wether in English or Spanish, because whether I understood it or not, I would have sat awed to silence. Because I am not a person of words. I strugle for days to find the words for a simple report or for my diary and yet they flow from him like his own breath. No it's not my talent. No, no I don't envy him. But I wish...I wish I could learn to be so committed. Or, or something so sure of my talents. It's going to take so much prayer to be like that.
But he showed me something. That there really is a reality of those who God sends impossible gifts, giving the duty of showing his glory to others. And since I could not possibly tell him such a thing without it sounding wrong (I'm ,..not good in way of profound speach) I will draw him somthing.
I will draw him something to corrospond with his last poem he told of, in which he described the meeting of the Puerto Rican and American sides of his life, and of what had been birthed from that comprimise. In the end, he said, he even compared it to a couple.
I will draw something in red. Birds, caught mid-flight of their quarting dance, to show that he can only fight on to move forward. I only pray it will tell him all I can not say.
Dazzeling Blessings,
~Gabby C.~ ><> |
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Apr. 16, 2009
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So, I'll Finally Use That Dusty Planner O' Mine..
Hello Everyone!~
My schedule is finally evened out that I am able to awake at one particular hour of the morning. So far I sleep six hours a night, and not being that active of a person, that's just fine. Although that is all about to change.
I am exhausted.
Today I had my final two booster shots this morning at nine (stopping to visit with the poor, struggling Christian nurse. It's amazing how many Christians like this that find us on a daily basis. Where do these people come from?). Then dropped off home for a quick lunch, only to burst from the house at 12 for the grand attraction of all home schoolers with it's free shipping and ten-present-off sales – the curriculum fair! This massive sale is held at an equally as large church where not only can the main printing companies (Christian Light, BJU, Rosette Stone) can display their products, but others can rent out a table as well. We didn't sell anything; it was the aforementioned discounts that drew us into the crowds. Plus we had some extra things to drop off at the free table and a mission collecting for Zambia, Africa. We even found a few bargains on a mineral set that I can analyzes for science and ultimately add to my ever-growing collection. We spotted a few friend as well as found out about yet another denomination out here, this one we had known existed at least, called the Conservative German Baptists. I think I may visit, add it to my small list of churches I'm considering now. But so far we don't know much.
I am going to finish high school, no matter what. It's how that is the problem. So! after a final examination of the catalog I have changed what I'm doing this year. Let me make this accurate. I'm doing half a credit literature, half a credit language, and another credit with grammar. That'll make 3 credits of English. Yes! That means writing piece only for the final two years. I know you probably have only a vague idea of what I'm talking about, but with this and extra credits in other categories, I'll be finished with my subjects and able to just do electives at the public school for the entire last year!
Only if the teachers let me.
Apparently there are insane Amish teenage girl-assassins running around with weapons stashed under their coverings. Or at least that's what the administration has convinced themselves. *sigh* The only other option (because I absolutely canNOT, in clear conscience, answer the lies on the science in the GED course, and what place sees a drop-out as responsible?) is to sign a contract with a certified program that will juristic exactly what I do each year and both grades and evaluates me for fee. I have nothing against them, although they can be very limiting and, in my opinion, if I am able to convince the school district to allow my covering, a waste of money. That's the reason we will be running about the same way next week, Lord permitting. Attending the open house at the new public high to catch a chat with the guidance counselor is my goal. But, going back to the subject, it must be certified. Because, I want to take on-the-job nurse's aid training as a job before I get married. I hate to think of it, but.. what if I didn't, didn't get married? I'd need something to fall back on as well. And taking care of the sick, when people are at their most vulnerable and helpless, when God has brought them to their knees, is a worthy cause, no? And a gentle path to leading them to Him. Although I've never experienced someone close to me dying, (have you?) I've been told that I have the personality.
In order to find a place to hire me, though, I need references. Plus with something like this, I don't want to wait to help out! Today I was able to get both. After browsing a good hour, I went over to Free Geek (you know, the place we got our computer?) that was most conveniently next door and got an application from boss-man, Reverend. And then shot home for yet another rushed meal. Only this time Dad wanted to take a nap. Now, about a week ago I had decided to try working for Hospice as a teen volunteer to see if I had the nerves required in nursing. So after my interview on the 14th, I was scheduled for the upcoming training course on the sixteenth. That's today. I needed to be there at five o' clock sharp. Punctuality is imperative in this kind of business. That meant naps where really not convenient just then.
I hit the door-stop at 5:28.
Way too close for comfort! But I wasn't the only one arriving so late, so no sweat. The chocolate rewards in class certainly made up for the stress of tardiness. *winks* I'll tell you about it in my next letter. For now, this ones quite long enough!
Blessings,
~Gabby~ ><3
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Apr. 5, 2009
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Agh! My Fingers are so sore!
Boohoo!
Well, today started as normally as any other: wake up at 4:00am or 3:30 or 5:am and call Dad, go back to sleep, reawaken somewhere between 9:00 an 12:00pm, feed a annoyingly perssistant fat tabby, clean "the Box", make coffee, brush my teeth, spend possibly an hour on breakfast, wake Mom, convince her I can make her breakfast too, spend an hour on that, and a last, begin the day. That is until around 2:30 when the stomp of feet and the grind of a house key sheift in it's lock that the envelop on the door was noticed. The matinence men so subtly left us a love note stating the where coming in on the 10th to paint the doors.
Just like that.
And of course, with Mom's foot and now advanced cold, the house was bearly in working order. So I spent the entire day scrubbing my poor finger-nails down to the quick, cleaning "presents" my kitties left in every nook and cranny of this house -parlor, dining room, and stairs. I enjoy but by the end it was a lothesome task. I'm going to sleep like a baby tonight. Spee..Zzzzzz..
Wispered Blessings,
~Gabby C. |
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Mar. 19, 2009
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Don't Tease the Gorilla in the Monkey Cage...
Hello Loves~
For years, it's the one addiction that has plagued him. The one habit that Dad could never break, that's driven him out into rain and shine, snow or sleet - the grand and mighty cigarette. And today he anounced that after a month of considering, he's gonna quit!
Cold turkey!
Yes, he has done this before, and yes he has failed, and I agree it would be easier on the nicotine gum or lozigers. But not as perminent. For a long time, Dad has craved have even a little bit of chicken or a little chop meat, but with nearly $4 every few days being flushed down the toilet the budget just can't strech any further. Mom already stretched a dollar till George Washington screams. So at the prospect of having a long desired treat (and a less nagging from Mom), Dad is finally cracking down. He is armed with lifesavers from the Walmart (the price of those went up!) and is loaded for bear. He's only had three today and I am have such troubel not being proud of him, but I won't gather my hopes too high. Just pray hard. Ah well, off to bed. Mom may not feel well enough to clean cabinets tomorrow, but I'll need to get that surprise picture done for Sharlene. Friday is fast approaching.
Blessings Your Friend,
~Gabby |
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Feb. 25, 2009
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Ello-o-o *cough* Do You Want Some Phelgm?
Because I can most certainly cough some up free of charge. *sigh* I go to one event with one person (who so happened to be the main speaker) having a slight, slight cold developing and BAM! I have a horrible case of inflammation and sore throat with overactive lugi makers since yesterday morning. It's really terrible; must be some sort of delayed reaction. *sighs* Hot tea with that fragrent wildflower honey has helped mightily as well as a bowl of hot tomato bisk. Hopefully with the spinach and onion in the soup my immune system with kick in. And yes, albeit begrudgingly, I took an ibuprofen. With this combo, something's bound to happen. What is anyone's guess. *laugh*
Uhoh, the coffee didn't turn out to well, it ended up looking more like tea than my tea. And then the cornmeal was already open not by either of our hands. At least I have my pumpirnikle-rye bread, so that should give my collen somthing to chew on. Who am I kiding? If I wasn't constipated for one day out of the year, I would be shocked. *laughs*
As for other things on my mind this morning, there is the towering responsibility of figuring out an ambiguos subject for my main report. It needs to mesh with History and tie into geography, while being lengthy enough to cover 10 pages. If that isn't enough to make you sweat, nothing is. So! I've been interested in weaving for some time now, after going to landis valley reapeadedly. A few ideas have gathered so far:
Weaving in Industry from the __ to the 18th Centery.
Weaving in Industry from the 18th Centery to now.
Dress making in the 18th Centry
The Use of Wool in Industry in the 18th Centery.
Opinions anyone? I'm going to look over the material for each, but as far as I can tell the fourth one should meet most of the qualifications for a lengthy report. A subject like that though, may prove to be more thesus than report worthy; we'll need to see how much material I can gather. But I've got a lead.
Blessings Your Friend,
Gabby
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Feb. 22, 2009
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Hope and Fear and Love.
The wisdom of God is unfathomable.
No, I'm not simply quoting something I have read in some devotional nor am I some great preacher or evangelist. I really find His wisdom fascinating and terrifying in all points. I'll give an example. In Job 1 Satan actually goes to God with the sons of God (angels) to report his goings and comings and God points out His servant Job. Now this is the lord of the earth, who at this point has free reign over the elements and isn't in any way contained (and he's certainly not being at all humble about it.). But God is just, He knows His servant Job will retain his faith. He also knows what's on Satan's mind.
"..the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. In all this Job sinned not, nor charged God foolishly."
Job believed God was in control and he trusted, but even so feared. His sons were dead, his household utterly thrown into mourning and upheaval, and yet he trusted an all powerful God would not deal deceitfully with him in any way. Even when his "friends" wrongfully told him these things were God's doing. (ch.12 v.9) God was not to blame either, he had allowed this to happen, but it was a test to Job not a punishment. It was humans under Satans influence that chose to destroy his family. But this tragety confused even Job, a man God says in v.1 is "a perfect and upright man, one that feareth God and ensheweth evil".
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Feb. 18, 2009
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The Epitamy of Stupidity..
Hello~
Storm clouds rumbled along sullenly today, adding to how uneventful the has been. The middle of the week seldomly has much excitement; I used it all up yesterday when I finally recovered from the schedule change of the rest on Sunday. It never ceases to throw me off. *grins* I had TAB yesterday with Audrey, you know, the new youth services person at Lancaster Library. She knows how to plan a fun party, I'll give her that. Ten points for bringing Pocky sticks. But there isn't much service "work" going on. We did help plan for the Reading Program this coming summer and for that I am grateful. Last year's prizes were useless to me, but this year I'll be getting theater tickets! I can't believe it; this is my chance to see The Nut Cracker on stage. Plus, we'll be getting useful prizes like clock-bookmarks and mood pencils at the end of the party as well as one of the best foods know to man: ice cream.
I was again invited to join the book club, but I really can't say I have any interest at all. Not only are, in my opinion, the majority of "Teen Books" short and choppy, but even when the touch on subjects these authors think help they have very little edifying value. Come on now; if almost every book has at least one part about someone fornicating or coming incredibly close graphically described, what good is it? I don't want to read that. I have enough trouble not thinking about it without knowing the details of how it's done. *sighs heavily* Thinking about such things, wanting to is normal and healthy, but thoughts turn to actions and I really don't believe these authors know the damage they're doing. In addition, none of them touch on the issues I want to read about: growing up, saving money, getting married, raising children, being a real mother not a working mom. I can't understand why it's okay to talk about how psycologically damaging abuse is, but not okay to expose the fact that the reason all these problems with children are starting: bad health, behavior, depression, the reason people can't live within their means, the reason people get divorced is because Mommy isn't home.
Why stay together, living together, eating each others food if you don't need each other?
If your living separate lives?
Why isn't it okay to mention how damaging TV can be?Why is it not okay to mention God, but okay to mention witchcraft? Are those subjects just too heavy for us "children"? Or are they just not "fun" enough to read about?
The world can't be all about whats fun, and if these teenagers have any hope of becoming proper adults they have to start now. Yes I'm a teen, and, yes, I love hanging out with friends and playing on the computer and playing games, but this is my last four years to learn all I need to know before the full weight of adulthood is heaved on my shoulders.
So, that being such a hefty argument, practically an epistle. *laugh* There's one girl who goes to the meetings that I'd really like to get to know, and yet I'd rather not play devils advocate and ruin their party. I might decide to later, but in all honesty, I'm not brave enough right now.
But that was yesterday.
Today's excitement didn't happen till this evening. Nine o'clock rolled around, and in this house, with Dad's late shift at work, we have supper along the British clock. I'd already eaten early and Mom was feeling nauseous due to he unrelentant headache so that left Dad. Who could have anything (nearly anything, we don't have caviar), he wanted. He of course chose grilled cheese and canned soup.
I mean, what else could be more satisfying? *smirk*
He really is easy to please when he wants to be. It's a quick meal, no mess and limited clean up. Grilled cheese isn't something you can mess up either, not as a seasoned cook as myself. So I rushed into cooking. Gathering my supplies first, I took out the bread, the butter, the cheese. Now I had a sight problem - the butter was frozen solid from being kept inside the fridge and therefore un-spreadable. So it made perfect sense to place it over the relatively hot toaster. After doing so, I turned away to finish eating my absolutely delicious pistasio muffin, focusing solely on eating the soft cakey, insides of the crust.
That is until I smelt something.
I turned around, unalarmed at first to find the butter soft alright. It was melting into the toaster right along with the plastic butter dish itself! Quickly as I could I grabbed it, ran around franticly in a circle a few times, and then placed it butter side-up in the kitchen sink yelling the first thing that came to mind.
"Mom!"
Now, this says something about my competence and I'm not exactly sure it says anything good. The point is the smoke detector didn't go off, the butter dish was only plastic (glass, with the cool butter against a heated dish, would have shot everywhere), and Wal-Mart has an endless supply of cheap, flimsy, disposable toasters. (Oh! and all butter dishes, including Rubbermade brand, have this weak spot where it will ooze when it melts to look like someone pushed their finger through it!) The moral of the story? Don't put anything on your toaster besides bread. Things get hot and therefore: they get melty.
All kidding aside, that was not an escapade I'm willing to repeat. *yaws* I learned my lesson for today.
Toasters and plastic. Heh, well, so not mixy things.
Blessings, Your Friend,
Gabby
PS~ That is the only time such a thing has happened to me, excluding the time I scorched the big yellow pot. *shakes head*
PSS~ Mom is making fun of me again she says I was trying to toast the butter. She was like: So you where going to put cold bread on toasted butter?
Hah! Funny.
Just wait till she goes senile. Then we'll see whose funny. |
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Feb. 17, 2009
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The Centery of Wonder
Hello All~
The days are longer, the grass shades greener, the sunsets more colorful - spring is upon us. And with the season comes seasonal cleaning - re-papering cabinets, sorting, and such. Of course this would infere that there is a need to atckle the nightmare that is my room. Now last time we sent donate - last year - there was roughly four boxes of shoes and three of books. Water boxes, now, not in the least tiny.
We just packed up four more. It's like the loaves and fishes only it's the dander and books. When your done cleaning/ eating (I don't advise eating cat dander...) it, there's always some left in the crates. *laughs* We are making progress, though, compared to all the days Mom was bed-ridden. We'll get the entire rug re-vacuumed, Lord willing, while the sunny weather lasts, so the exersize bike can be set up. Rainy days need gym class too.
I have not, because of the change in routine, forgotten school work. Sadly. *laugh* The greatest thing in all of history class, the greatest invention of the 18th centery was the toilet. Not because of covineincey nor because of wide use, genius, or how conventional it may be, but because of the inventor. Thomas Crapper.
Thomas Crapper
Thomas Crapper
Thomas Crapper
Thomas Crapper, Thomas Crapper, Thomas Crapper, Thomas Crapper, Mr. CRAPPER!
BWAHAHAHA! I can say it over and over and Mom and Dad can never say I can't, cuz it's not wrong. Ahahaha, oh yes *rubs palms together*, yes I get away with murder. *laughs* I am having way too much fun, however, I haven't missed the point of history class entirely,. The Victorian era in which the Industrial Revolution as well as a break through in medicine and electricity is a facinating era, esspecially in England. I'm really enjoying the corse, especially since we're using a book from the library on nothing but the Victorian era for the brunt of my school work, not jumping around the past 500 years like last year. I like that kind of focus. *yawns* But if I hope to have any forcus tomorrow morning I ought to get to bed. More Later.
All My Love, Your Friend,
~Gabby~ ><> |
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Feb. 17, 2009
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Triune
Greetings in Jesus' Holy and Precious Name!
"For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth in unrighteousness; Because that which may be known of God is manifest in them; for God hath shewed it unto them. For the invisible things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse."
Romans 1: 18-
True scieces pionts wholeheartedly in God's direction and only brings Him glory. He is the one who made the "secret parts" of the earth that many scientists in the late 1800's as well as today found and predicted through the worlds profound patterns. They have no excuse, because God has shown them through his world and a theologion sees through His world the makings of an all-loving God who gives freedom and justace even to all of us who are sinners who abuse that freedom. I for one wish to use that understanding for His purposes.
"And God said, Let Us make man in Our image, after Our likeness.."
Genesis 1:26
When we read in the Bible, even from Genesis 1 it is apperent that we have a triune God - a God in three persons. I believe I can understood the Godhead, or at least I believe I can grasp it, to some extent and I felt a burden to explain it's mystery. The Godhead is one spirit, a single Soal that is God, although He is broken for our benefit into three parts: the One who came to Earth and is now our Intersesor, the part that lives within us as our guilde once we are saved or the Holy Spirit / Shakina Glory, and the part who is the head of the others to which we pray or the Father. They're still connected, as one being, but stay in separation physically.
It's like this. If you have a vase that has a stripe pattern pained on it and you break the vase into many pieces, even if you put one piece of the vase in your pocket and the other in your closet, the pieces will always have the pattern on them. The patern won't disappear no matter how far away each peice is from the other, and if you where to line them up they will aways fit together into one vase. In this way God is the vase, all in peices, yet each peice still has the pattern or connection to the rest.
I don't know the extent that that connection reatches, although I do know they can keep separate thoughts, since Revelation says that only the Father knows when the end of the world will come. Such a relationship is not comprehencable to the human mind any further that I can see, but I thank God for showing me this much. I pray that this may minister grace to the reader. *smiles*
Blessings, Your Friend,
~Gabby~ ><> |
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Jan. 15, 2009
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Bubbles and suds!
I'll tell you something, dishwater hands are quite literally a pain, and ultimately worse for someone such as myself considering I have winter egzima. The arctic tempuratures of the downstairs of our swamp-villa only complicate the problem.
And I didn't even wash that many dishes.
Well not enough to count as the main source of my crackly skin delema. It was scrubbing the cabinets that did is, and yes, I used dish washing soap, so you can get an idea of the brutal condition it left them in. But boy, was it worth it! After three years, God blessed mom with sufficient strength, and we finally started on the cabinets. We made our way from the left side of the room with the two pantries to the...left side of the room with the two pantries. *laugh* We had a bit of a late start, but even so, they are a good days work, mind you. I scrubbed them down and rinsed them, walking back and forth to the sink for a fresh bach of soapiness or to rinse a soap ladened rinse sponge some fifty thousand times. Wanting to do the cabinet closest to the stove first, thinking it would make sense to store the caned food there, we removed the second pantry's set of shelves. There were shelves missing and a most suspisious seam on the pantry floor. Apon inspection we stumbled across something most unpleasant. The people living here before not only stored cleaners, mop, and bucket (as marks can attest to), but left a horrible rip in the contact paper at the bottom of the cabinet where some cleaner burned clear through to the flaky ply wood, carefully hidden by the two missing small shelves. *sigh* I suppose we should have inspected these things more closely when we first moved in, but nothing we can do now except cover them with vinal flooring as we did under the sink. That I am going to worry about cleaning up tomorrow. As for tonight, we had pizza. Dellisious, sweet, Metro pizza. Alls well that ends well. *grins* Ah, Dad's home! I'll write more later on, maybe in the morning. Until then!
Very Rushed Blessings,
~Gabrielle |
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Dec. 26, 2008
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Si-ilent Ni-ight, Ho-oly-y Ni-ight...
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I think I shall explode.
Either that or, with the heaping portion of turkey I have eaten, along with a tower of potatoes decorated in sunny yellow corn and savory, celery laced stuffing with a sizable slab of cranberry sauce and chocolate pudding cake for dessert, fall asleep. It was all so delicious I just had to do it justice. And so after prayer and a carol, I loaded my plate with the mouth-watering selection they put out. As well as a spud from the Spud man – giver of spuds. *laugh* I know, it's awful that I can't remember his name, but every year he is one of the volunteers who hands, or rather tongs, steaming baked potatoes to dinners who care to have one. This is how he remains in my memory, I suppose. He, of course socialized a bit and stood around our table, busying himself with refilling drinks and threatening people with a spud in the head if they didn't watch out, until he was relieved by, amazingly enough, a Brothern man who was also volunterring. You can imaging our surprise at seeing him and his wife helping at a methodist church. It's not wrong to help out there, just peculiar considering usually members host these events. We'd seen them taking off their coats and sending their little girl with what we now know is her aunt before the couple started serving. Dad took it apon himself to be introdused, got to know who this "Carl" person was. They really hit it off! So well that Carl stayed after the tables where being cleared just talking! Not doing his job. -_-' That's men for you..
His wife's greeting was not as forthcoming. Mom and I literally had to go to the kitchen and call her over (as did the rather bousterous and tactless worldly woman who was oblivious to any of our discomfort at yelling across the room for someone trying to avoid you.). They really liked us, or at least Carl did. Hey, I'll go over their house simply to spend time with the baby. *grins* His wife (whose name escapes me at the moment) is sick, so we'll see.
After the meal, I was nearly lulled into el-tryptophan induced sleep by a surprisingly harmonious instrumental three-some. Ivy, the pastors daughter, and her older sister and fellow home schooler played a few songs, just the three of them, on a flute, a violin, and a long black tubular thing that sounded like some kind of baby trombone. I don't know how Ivy, whose height is maybe a few inches beyond my own, mustered up enough air to play that gigantic ungangly pipe. *shakes head* They obviously knew what they were doing. Could have used one of those ticking triangles in the background to keep a tempo, not that I'm in any place to critique. Despite wanting to learn the hand bells since third grade, the only instrument I can literally play is my voice and my nose, the latter of which can bring on the most interesting reactions. *laugh*
“The First Noel”just so happens to be my favorite carol in it's tune. Though, I find the words of Silent Night ultimately more illuminating of the feeling of that night all humanity rejoices in.
Now, Most years there is an activity, and this year was no exception, though it lacked somewhat in my eyes compared to last year's. The pastor called up Ivy, , and two other people, one of which just so happened to be me. So up I went and, much to my surprise, I did not turn three shades of red standing in front of all those strangers, singing no less. He handed each of us large poster with the words Bethlehem, Manger, Angel, or written on the front and a scrip of the story on the back with the designated word highlighted. After assigning a few tables to each person, he gave us instructions to how the story telling game would go. Every time a certain word was said, say it was Bethlehem, then I would raise my poster and my group would sing the first line of the first verse of “O Little Town Of Bethlehem”. That task seemed easy enough for a kindergardener! Right?
Erm, well there were a few brave soloists out there who didn't think so, i, in, including myself. Once the get started, they just can't stop. *chuckles* No, you can not compare it to seeing a table of elderly women pose as eight maids a' milking, but I can say it was tolerable enough.
So ended our festive afternoon of celebration. We were giving three goodie bags to go and a grocery bag of superb spuds and a hefty tub of poultry from the kitchen, so as not to let us go empty handed. Heaven forbid we should go without turkey for the agonizing three weeks of digestion after Christmas. Ah, what I wouldn't do for just one more piece apple of pie...
Your Bloated Buddy,
~Gabby~ ><>
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Dec. 13, 2008
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Unfaling Umbrage from my Umbquitous Creator
Hello!~
"And in that day thou shalt say, O Lord, I praise Thee: though Thou wast angry with me, thine anger is turned away, and Thou comfortest me.
Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and not be afraid: for the Lord Jehovah is my strength and song; He is also my salvation. Therefore shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation.
And in that day shall ye say, Praise the Lord, call upon His name, declare his doings among the people, make mention that his name is exalted.
Sing unto the Lord for He hath done excellent things: this is known in all the earth."
Isaiah 12:1-5
Oh I have lots of praise to give! Lets see, where to start, where to start? Let's start with the most recent state of affairs, shall we? Yesterday despite the sogginess all week, we had a remotely dry morning. Both Mom and I jumped (or hobbled) at the chance to take a walk outside; God blessed her with more strength Friday than all month! What better way to spend it than out in God's creation? So off we went, ambling slowly up the hill and down Eden road, to the Moravian church maybe a half of a mile from our house. Thankfully no unsecured dogs were in any proximity to the house-complex on the way, (Last time was much too close for comfort.), the only movement was dismal brown leaves rolling about our path as the wind swept them from here to there. Yellow and red holly berries threw splashes of startling color along with a few petunias desperately clinging to life, into our path of slate asphalt and hazy blue sky. A church may seem like a strange destination during the morning on a Friday, but there was an evident purpose. Since she had finally, after calling repeatedly only to be greeted most of the time by a substitute clerk, gotten a hold of Diana who works in the church office, and secured us a copy of the recipe for the rich Moravian sugar cake. After having a taste of it last Christmas at the Christmas Eve Love Feast, I fell in love with the sweet yeasty-ness of it all. Sugary, crumbling butter topping over a dense pond cake like batter - they are right belly-sinkers as Dad would say. If I make them for our elderly Sisters and Brothers at the New Order Amish Church, (I hope we call Brother Ben and visit this Sunday! I'm going to get the name of the Conservative church the one woman's children joined, then I will have a place I can really consider for membership!) as I had hoped to, Lord willing, before Christmas, I'm sure with being so filling they'll go a long way. We got there pretty quickly, and made it up the back steps on half frozen (only half *chuckles*) toes. Mom had filled Diana in on the latest news, and when we finally walked into the office I thought she would cry. Just all of a sudden, no lips trembling or anything like that, her eyes teared up. I guess people around us will feel the...loss of stability more heavily than we do, but I really don't know why. I mean, if it's God's decision, then there is no need to question it. Or feel bad, for that matter. "I'm sorry" they say. Why? Did you put the lump in her breast? Are you putting pins in a little Rosie voo-doo doll or something? And then we have to comfort them? *sighs* I digress.
All that aside, I think Diana may be breaking down that barriers shes had up since we first met her. She has watched me grow up, in a way, yet nothing ever came of the brief visits at the church's event or in town. Maybe now we can be more than just "passing aquaintances". If she ever hugs mom that tightly again, though, the only way she'll be passing us is on a gurney. *laughs* I'm kidding, really! I just hope she'll give herself a chance, instead of assuming ,without even really knowing us, we'd automatically find her poor company.
The pastor, on the other hand, was about as friendly as a terrified rabbit. Shook hands like one too - I thought Mom would break his arm. He just kind of stood there and nodded. There's conviction for you, but I suppose I should be understanding. He most likely never spoke to an Amish person in his life. We are just people, and Christians before anything else. We certainly do not bite, or at least, not all of us.
And again, I digress.
This said, we did survive the hike up the hill (with all legs intact), got the recipe, and then promptly turned around and...
Went to the Sheetz gas station for French fries. Yes, that was too much to do all in one day for Mom's lame leg over here, but hey! We had a free coupon. *laughs* I think Mom agreed only because she believed I deserved it after so long, contrary to the fact that I was satisfied with a simple walk to the church. But I have to say I am grateful. This is where I was able to see the yellow holly. I hadn't had any idea holly was such a stark shade of yellow before it turned red! I even got to see what new garbage that decorated the bridge. *laugh* I'm not sure why, but trash always seems to collect at the end of the bridge above the highway; today was a bottle one quarters of the way filled with cherry soda. Red, how festive.
Of course, my walk down to the "Kitchen that's always open" consisted of more excitement than what the litter bugs could throw around. That colt, now a mare, turned into a beautifully muscled work horse. Oh, her coat shine like polished copper! A real show-off she is too, prancing around the field and giving us one of those head-tossing sidelong glances. Ah, it was so lovely walking with Mom again, with a destination too, and, after being cooped up in the house for such a drearily long time, it made both of us feel so much better.
Sadly, the weather took no time in reverting back to it's old, simpering self. My area has gotten such a torrent of rain that we had flood warnings! We live right near a creek and in a valley, for goodness sake! If it doesn't let up soon, our parlor will become my personal, mold filled swimming pool. I'm none too hopeful about having a white Christmas. *sighs* On the good side, I heard there may be enough of a cold front to freeze the water in the ponds, but I'm concerned about the water freezing on the roads. I wonder why it has been so rainy this year? Wasn't there more snow when I was little? Mom says it waxes and wanes; I guess it's more believable than global warming.
Now, on Thursday, she spent the entire morning just making phone calls. It was not as exciting or fruitful, and toward the end a little hopeless, but nonetheless, imperative. She called the hospital, and found out about a grant. Great! We can pay less in a doable payment plan.
Wrong.
You can't take advantage of the grant if insurance is available to you, even if you won't have food because of the huge chunk of money coming out of your pay check each month if you did take it. But hey! You should have a job to help your husband. You know, the whole not being able to lift with your left arm or stand on you left leg can't hamper you that much, can it? *sighs*
And then there was the clinic, the hospital office close to our house, and the doctors office. The doctors office was more understanding, saying they would knock the bill down to $30, payed in $15 increments, but begrudging in allowing it. And that still didn't solve the problem of getting the pap or the breast exam. We can not afford either on our own, or the surgery if it is needed. And there was only two places left to call.
The first couldn't do it.
The lady at the clinic in the city had a waiting list as long as her leg. As a plus, it really didn't matter if you where able to have the tests to know what was wrong. No anesthesiologist or surgeon in Lancaster would touch you with a ten foot pole if you didn't have insurance. That left one option.
In all this I learned that God is never be late, but He is never early. I learned the same lesson when Mom's tooth erupted a few months back and countless times in my life including my own birth. I never doubted Him, yet it never ceases to amaze me.
The woman who picked up the phone was a Believer, a Baptist. The hospital she worked for was an organization specifically for women and babies health. They turn no one away, but are willing to find a way to treat her because of the cancer symptoms, regardless of whether or not a person has enough money prepared to pay. No government grants, but using grants from other organizations like the American Cancer Society.
Mom cried with relief.
The woman, I don't know her name but I'm praying, felt she wasn't worthy to be used to bless someone in such a way. Both her and the doctor when she told him, were refreshed and amazed at the gratitude, something they don't see often in this welfare-minded world. They even prayed over the phone.
And so we're one step closer to finding a solution, or at least knowing what to start preparing for. *smiles*
I think that was by far, the most fabulous Christmas gift besides God's Son to date. Praise the Lord and Blessed Christmas to all~!
Blessings,
~Gabrielle~
PS~ Just a note: I still want a dress patern and another neocash card. *mopes, laughs* Good night!
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Dec. 11, 2008
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Okay? O-okay? O! kay. Oka-ay..
So my goals to do or not to, such is the question. Care to read the answer?
Seven Things I Would Like To Do (Lord willing) Before I Die
1. Bring glory to my Lord
2. write a book
3. Get married and have children (maybe two or twenty)
4. learn archery
5. Learn to drive!
6. Go on missions to Japan (O-oh!)
7. Witness even when it hurts someone (Tell it like it is.)
Seven Things I Won't Do
1. Rebuke God
2. Become a Rock-star
3. kiss a slug (Cuz I've already kissed a pig)
4. watch an extremely violent movie
5. murder (that includes hating someone)
6. Paint an acrylic masterpiece
7. go deer hunting
Seven Things I Say Often (very often..*winks*)
1. "Why"
2. .I love you.
3. Slopjarhead or Stinkfishpot
3. Okay (o-okay? Oka-ay..*nods*)
5.. That's neat!
6. Never!
7. Of course.
Things That I Love About My Mom
1. She loves me.
2. She talks with me (the only intellegent conversation I have -_- )
3. She spells words more accurately than a dictionary
4. She teaches me so much.
5. She is absolutely hysterical (though atrociously sacastic)
6. She supports me in my beliefs
7. She's brave. (and has an inexhaustable store of "piss and vinegar")
8. She appreciates a strong cup-a-joe
Things That I Love About My Dad
1. He loves me.
2. He shows interest in everything I do (even if he can't always understand the it *grins*)
3. He knows about more businesses than I can count
4. He's out-going and very forgiving (even when he should practice more precaution.)
5. He's a hoot! (though all his jokes are corn ball)
6. He supports both Mom and my own beliefs. (Sometimes I still let the hope that he'd try harder himself burn a little brighter...)
7. He's not easily excitable (Only when he pays attention. *laughs*) |
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Dec. 11, 2008
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Secondary Survay Sonopsis of my Specialties ;)
You may be thinking: "Oh no! She's answering another set of idiotic question on subjects no one in their right mind would ask." A-and..
game show music plays*
You are correct! Congradulations! You receive a years supply of Turtle wax and a coffee regular! Just what you wanted. *chuckles* Well, let's get this over with..
Who do you have a crush on: no one *sigh*
Do you wanna get married one day: Yes!
Color of your toothbrush: pink, of co-ourse
Bracelets or no bracelets: no bracelets
Earrings or no earrings: no earrings
Do you floss: I....try >,<
Do you have pets: yep, three lovely kitties
What kind of car do you NOT like: those chunky truck-cars with the big, bug-eye lights
What’s you favorite cartoon: I don't watch TV anymore, but from when I was little, I'd have to go with Sailor Moon. *smiles*
What’s your favorite food: Cheeese!
Hat or no hat: Nah, I more go for bandana's. I'll wear it if it has ribbons or cat ears! Not the baseball caps of doom! Never them! Anything but them! *hyperventilates*
Favorite movies: Bridge to Terrabithia. That brought on the most heart-wrenching emotion.
What’s your favorite flower: Roses
Favorite item of clothing: My almost red cape dress with the pleated school-girl style skirt. It's so cute!
Favorite color: pink or cream
Favorite song: Blessed Assurance
if you could have one thing right now, what would it be?: Enough money for all Mom's medical bills, my braces, and the chicken Dad is dying for.
What would you do with a million dolars?: Give 70% to Christian Aid Ministries, and either save the rest or use it one the worthy causes above. (including that chicken. *grins*)
Favorite Book: The Holy Bible, Sister to The Wolf
Favorite Clean Stupid Insult: You Stink-fish-pot! Or You Slop-jar-head! (I really say those. *laughs*)
What is your favorite writing tool? (Pen, pencil, gelly,etx.): Definitely a pencil. I spell like a red-neck. *grins sheepishly*
What is your favorite Bible quote (And do NOT say Psalm 23. ;P): Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath the most vehement flame. ( Song of Solomon 8: 6 ) |
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Dec. 10, 2008
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Trials, Treasures, and Trivial Things
Five minutes to five o'clock and we are still waiting for that phone call.
"We'll call right back.", says the wonderfully efficient nurse at the doctors office. Woohoo! Big Fat Hairy Deal! She really is such a dedicated office worker isn't she?
*fumes, sighs* I'm truly angry with that nurse, but I ought to forgive her. After all, this is not the first time I've received the news, but as the problem grows gradual worse, getting it taken care of can't be ignored any longer. She can barely lift more than the weight of a pencil and even the slightest touch causes intense pain. I am positive, because she actually is complaining. And her pain tolerance could rival that of the Martyrs.
Mom has a lump in her breast.
She's had seven miscairrages, each adding 50% more of her already skyrocketing risk. It's probably cancerous or, at the very least, pre cancerous, and I highly doubt we'll have the money any time soon for the specialist check-up after the initial examination, little lone the surgery.
You know, it really hit me when I was writing this - the unchangeable seriousness of this situation. Like a slap across the face.
I have excepted it, though. Yeah, I'd miss her and yeah I'm scared I won't have the strength to find where I finally fit. To find the right church, the one parallel enough with my beliefs to find a husband; the one who is willing to take care of Dad as well as myself, because I don't know if he'll live through her death in one piece. To "redeem her" properly like I'm supposed to, the way I feel she deserves
But I'm not crying.
Because God is my strength. Not Rosemarie, and not Dad, and not even a church, if I can find one to help me. This can mean definite good as well. It means her time is over, that she's fulfilled God's purpose in the world, that she's completed the important purpose her being was obliged to take on after one of the many life-altering decisions she's made. That she's pleased God, and somehow I'm really pleased with her more than ever. This means I'm ready to start on my own path independently. She can finally go home.
She's suffered so much..
Not that I pity her. That's the farthest thing from the truth! It's her experiences that has given her the strength to be different from all of them, because when they went out drinking, she went home and cooked a meal for my father. And when they frequented bars for things other than to get intoxicated, she stayed home and played with me. And took care of me. And read the Bible to me. And did my home work with me. And loved me.
So, however indirect, those hardships lent me the knowledge and foresight I have today. That is something I am grateful to both her and God for, eternally.
Yet, in something like this, I still hurt for her, because it really isn't fair.
*sighs* I know that "His ways are judgment: a God of truth, without iniquity, just, and right is He" (Du.32:4), and I have to keep reminding myself of that.
Maybe with the unwavering pain she's an ill-tempered, ill-langauged, haggard old grump, but she's my grump, and I'm going to pray myself into a migraine that I can have her a little longer. There are things I want to experience with her, not selfishly either, like learning to sew (and annoying our teacher into a frazzle), finally doing the laundry, memorizing all those all-you-can-consume-cholesterol Hungarian meals, finishing high-school (or just the first chapter of ninth grade algebra), and raising my first little one knowing only what she's said and God says about how.
So if it takes yelling at the doctor, or punching her squarely in the nose (to which Mom would gladly oblige. *smirk*), she is going to get that breast exam without the stupid extra visit! I am determined and whether airhead nurse practitioner Jen likes it or not, She. Is. Going.
Dad will simply tell her it's out right stupid. You know, in that way he goes:
"Oh that is just stupid." *chuckles*
And, of course, this is not the highlight of my week, by any stretch of the imagination. I got my Christmas stuff out into the mail! I say stuff because it consisted of a $34 truck load containing everything but the powder room sink. (Which I whole-heartily think we should mail to the building office so they can fix it there, since big fat Franky-boy can't fit under the counter. *rolls eyes*) Technically yesterday was the day the majority of our packages went off to the post office, where I stood on a line stretching like a curvassious (I love that word, but heck if I can spell it.) slug all the way to the door waiting to have them weighed. I suppose I wasn't the only one who possessed the common sense to have Christmas gifts in the mail early. That way it'll be only cards that I am still sending away into next March. Leba and Katie's star of David quilt kit received dressing up in blindingly silver paper today, however, after Dad found the perfect size box at Wal-Mart. (It will forever amaze me how he manages to find just the right size and how generous people are to him. Why he can walk up to a brother or sister and be given the name, phone number, and hours of their church without second thought. In that, I try to emulate him, being so free and outgoing. Just with a little more caution. -_-; ) I am so relived that's done.
Now! To get the dolls that I am not keeping packed up for the Re-uz-it is the next endeavor, preferably before Christmas. I think we'll give them to White Horse this year, since they are still apt to sell toys and there are many farmers in the neighboring area who have plenty of children to fit into a budget this Christmas. *smiles* New Holland never sells toys anymore. They really should! I still remember when I was little going through the ten-cent bin and picking just 3 or 4 each time. (And collaberating a never ending amount of toys. it's taken me practically 3 years to finish organizing them and I haven't completed it yet!) or when the lady at the Ephrata location let me go through the bags. They had these food-n-bread bags with maybe six to seven toys or doll clothing articles each for fifty or twenty-five cents, you see. Every time we visited the Re-uz-it, I was allowed to buy just one, sometimes two if Mom had scrounged up enough extra. (And she often did.) Now, to the average adult they looked as though they contained nothing but useless junk, but I would stand on my tip toes at the counter and trade one thing from this bag for another from this bag, until I had a bag of treasures. We then filled up the tub with toys and bubbles to give them a good washing, and low and behold:I always manged to find something amazingly nice! It was magical, being allowed to pick my own toys and washing them (and splashing in the bubbles for a good half hour. *laugh*). I'd hate for that to not be possible for a little one, because it was always better for me than the expensive talking elmo plush I saw at the K-mart. It was something both Mom and Dad had worked for, something that didn't only mean hours of building worlds, but playing in the tubby with Mom and playing with Dad when he got home from his second job (when he sacrificed precious sleep for me.) I would hate to see that lost.
Once I've crossed that off the list, I'll be onto doing both my yearly reports: one long one on the history of wool gathering and weaving, and one shorter on the near threatened Sand Cat. (She's really a beautiful creature, that feline and so well adapted to her environment! I'm continually fascinated anew at how "very good" He made created the world.)
Well I must be going. Dad will be home soon with the groceries and those chocolate fiber pop-tarts (or Fiber One toaster pastries) certainly won't grow limbs and put themselves away, though you never know in this house. *laugh*
Blessings,
~Gabrielle~ |
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Nov. 28, 2008
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If Your Going To Type The Type...
"Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved: for Thou art my praise."
Jerimiah 17:14
For me this month has been a slightly rocky ride. I, for one, had surgery to thwart my attempts at righting my forgetfulness. Then there is the problem of Mom's health that has been everything short of normal, and there is an unending pile of school work now that the books came. Late. *sighs* Not that I'm complaining! I am joyful the Lord blessed me with them at all. It's just I have gotten too preoccupied and forgot. But have no fear, Gabby is finally here! *laugh*
I did, in fact have surgery. Jen, the jaunty new Nurse Practitioner at Steinke's office who replaced Beth, was alarmed by how large my beauty marks had become. I had been trying to have them removed since I was 7, but I suppose Beth just became so complacent with them, seeing me from when I was small, that she assumed they grew normally as I did. Now, the one that worried me was no abnormal hanging appendage of some sort. *shudders* Goodness, no! Being almost half an inch in length and, to the observant eye, speckled and uneven, is certainly not healthy. You do have to take into consideration the fact that it was on my chest causes a considerable amount of natural stretching, but better safe than sorry. So off to the dermatologist we went.
As it turned out, we needn't go far. The clinic was down the street, within walking distance. Not the best thing for Mom's gamy leg, but you ought to see how stubborn that lady can be - speeding up the last few yards so we made the property 8:00 on the nose. (Not that it can get any worse. We'll get the MRI soon enough I suppose. I trust God will help her through this pit fall, if not heal her too.)
Once the doctor in training checked me over, a endearingly nervous young women by the name of Desirey (isn't that pretty?) and the well trained normally cosmetic Dr. Kegel, it was cofirmed that, yes, that beuty mark needed to come off. So, I was schedualed again for sugery. And around a month later I found myself again seated on a rather stiff, paper covered chair in one of those fashionable paper dresses. This one was blue; I know, looks ten thousand times better on me than those old white ones! *chuckles* (note the sarcasm there)
She, first, had to draw a line with the (COLD) blue marker pen, in order to cut with the utmost precision. She drew an almost football shape, one end flatter than the other, in order that when she cut it, the two sides would draw together virtually seamlessly. The surgery itself was equally as interesting. I was completely conscious throughout the entire thing. Dr. Kegel did, of course, inject Novocaine in and around where she cut before-hand , so there was no pain. It was the most peculiar feeling. I kept waiting for the pain, yet all I was aware of was warmth of the blood rising (she actually nicked a blood vessel, just one, and had to carterize the end. Quite an easy process, really. She had a self-heating tool that's tip was placed lightly against the clamp holding back the flow of blood for maybe ten seconds.) and cold of the wound exposed to the air. (she cut right down to the fatty tissue I couldn't bring myself to watch when she was separating the skin from the yellow tissue underneath.*shivers*) Once done with that, she again used her marker (with a square of gauze since she forgot before she started *smirks wryly*) to make parallel dots around the wound. These became guildelines for the hook like needle that she pushed first through one side then, the other, tying the blue polyester thread (not metal or nylon) into a tight knot. I can only describe the pressure as the feeling when a hand or foot "falls asleep" right before needles and pins. After the nurse cleaned around the area with achohol and smoothed on some petroleum jelly (I'm always worried about using that, because petroleum supposedly causes cancer. *nervous*), she taped on one of those square vinyl gauze pads with the instructions to shower and repeat the process everyday.
And, goodness, was I tense! You could have cracked a board of wood on me.
Still, the entire surgery fascinated me! Dr. Kegel knew where to cut, yet she had no grid nor mapping for reference of where each of the zillions of blood vessels lay beneath or the exactly where the layer of fat meets the dermis. She did not panic in the face of a mistake.
Not to disgust anyone! I suppose I just have a thick skin (no pun intended) for things like this. The nurse commented on how well I fared and how I could watch the surgery so unflinchingly more than most. I was tense, but this is nothing new. Ever since kindergarten, I've seen being a nurse as a wonderful profession to pursue. I've even been considering training up at HACC or The Carrer and Technologies Center to be a nurses aide while I'm working another job (If I ever find one! Nobody wants to hire me at the "young age" of fourteen, even Goods Store. I'll never have enough saved at this rate. *sighs* Know any place?). Though I am going to be cautious not to look into anything that will rack up too much debt or need extensive studying that I won't be able to quit at a moments notice, because I don't want to do anything to delay getting married. Filling my God-given role of wife and Mommy, having a family of my own, is first and fore most in my mind. *smiles*
I've had my stitches removed since then. And believe me, the was most certainly not as interesting coming out as they were going in. The skin had grown right overtop of them, and they pinched something fierce! *laugh* Now there was something aiding the skin in staying together while it continues to heal. She put on these week-lasting butterfly clips - small strips of adhesive gauze like cloth holding the two sides together, with some foul smelling glue so they would last. Boy did that scent ever linger, smelt like shoe glue. Nasty!
She then bade me the magic words “take it easy” for a whole month! Hence letter writing, diary entries, and drawing at my leisure resumes. I'll admit, moving my arm isn't exactly a problem now, so I'm milking it just a little.
Maybe more than a little.
*laugh* Don't worry; my chores are getting done. I can't sit still like that for a week, little-lone a month. In that, I am much like my Dad - had double hernia surgery one day and two days later was going down the stairs on his butt. I'm not so rash, but you get the idea. Unfortunately, I was not able to play frisbee or clean (with the ancient cat's we have in residence and a mother with an ankle that now sports a ganglion cyst, the parlor was like a minefield of ...unspeakable things. Things too gross to speak of. *shudders* *laugh*) so I spent much of my time writing and reading, in the house no less. Not that I don't love to pass the time that way, but within reason. And...
I have come to the conclusion that our house is either posessed or just plain broke. The ceiling light in the parlor, which wouldn't go on all summer and fall, only works when the heat is running. The computer, which with our dial-up service used to disconnect us and then reconnect, is now disconnecting us and has to be reconnected manually. The refrigerator, instead of emptying the water onto a shelf where it can evaporate undisturbed, is emptying it all over the kitchen floor where it can evaporate while we fall and break our necks. This place is held together with hope and spit. But hey, at least the roof don't leak! XD
As you can understand, it's terrible to sit and observe your apartment. You become paranoid and obviously nearly break your neck, the one thing duck tape can not fix. Thankfully, I am quite able-bodied now and just went on a refreshing bike ride with my Dad. The weather hear is crisp, the sky devoid of anything but a wispy ghost of a cloud, giving me a clear view of the brown silhoette of the hills just beyond the farm land. There aren't anymore God's paintbrush drawing vibrant yellow foliage or trees that look more like giant red delicious apples than tree's at all, only a few limp brown leaves.
I did get to meet some rather friendly chipmunks on my ride, or at least I hope they were just being friendly. My front wheel on my bicycle is dented so every time it goes around, it grazes against the brake and makes a "ssh ssh squeak". Well, I was coming around the bend of the track and all the chipmunks in the two trees to my right are making that exact same noise. I do not jest, they really were! I don't know how much it had to do with my bike and how much had to do with territorial battles amongst themselves or something. All I know is, when I stopped if front of those trees..
the squeaking stopped too.
That has got to be the single strangest thing ever to happen. But okay. *laugh* It's so easy to come in contact with all sorts of creatures now, without all the trees blocking my view. Plus there is always someone burying a nut with winter coming. (Peepee man included) I got to see our crane again by the creek. He's breathtaking when he flies.
Well, I must go, so many chores to do, so little time. And if I want to go outside for a lesurely walk tomorrow, I'd better get a move on.
Blessings,
~Gabby~ |
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Aug. 10, 2008
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Katie Did. Katie Didn't! Katie Did! Katie Didn't!
Helloo~
That's the argue the sacadas are having outside in the treetops. The weather is getting chillier, but life is as warm and happy as ever. First and formost on my list is getting swimming a second time before fall blows through here. Oh didn't I write about my last time swimming? I guess I haven't had much time to ramble, but nows as good as ever. *wink*
I went with Dad in the evening (since it's half price after five. Always a plus). It was so much fun! The pool in Overlook has a giant yellow slide and tons of swimming space. The water was luke warm by the time six o'clock came around, but by then it was cool enough to need it.
And then there was meeting new friends at the park! Playing super-neon frisbee and taking long nature walks at the park are things they enjoy as much as I. They are both Christians as well! Granted, being a few years my junior, they are young Christians in ever sense of the word, and the idea of being a role model is daunting. But I think we can make it if we try to be more like Jesus together. *smiles* I'll be emailing with them off and on for a while.
Blessings,
~Gabby
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