OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES again!

Papa and Darren. I love this picture. It is big Darren (my hubby) and little Darren (my grandson). I always tell little Darren he's my favorite little boy and Papa's my favorite big boy!

Little Darren (3 yrs old) said the the absolute funniest thing I've ever heard a little one say, the other night. My hubby had been out of town all week, and to celebrate his home coming, our grandson spent the night with us. We both absolutely adore him and will do anything to spend a little time with him. He lives next door, and after dinner last night, he came walking through the door with his little, Cars back pack on wheels. You could tell he was in high gear, all excited for an evening of play with Papa and MooMoo. We played on the floor for a while, pretending to be dinosaurs, roaring at one another, scaring one another and running away. Then I gave him piggy back rides and airplane rides on my feet while I was laying on my back. I get such a kick out his giggle when he is tickled about something. He seems to have appointed himself as my personal comedian lately! He will do anything to tease me or get me to laugh or play along with him. Anyway, I said to him, "Why don't we get jammies on?" He of course, wanted to "do it himself." I showed him how the tag on the bottoms went in the back by his bootie and the tag on the shirt went behind his neck and he thought that was pretty neat. I'm sure his Daddy and Mommy have already shown him that, but he got a kick out of it anyway! After he got his jammies on, he walked out into the kitchen, stood by my pantry, paused for a moment, clapped his hands then rubbed them together, and said, "Well, let's get started!" haha I thought I would die laughing!! It was like he was saying, I have an agenda here people, and only a certain amount of time to get it accomplished! haha That kid is too much! He has me in stitches all the time over things he says.
But the best is when we are laying down for nap time together and he looks at me and smiles, then reaches over and rubs my cheek and says "MooMoo, you're so pretty, I love you." That thrills my heart for more than one reason: One - He has heard his Daddy say that to his Mommy and two - it shows, even at his tender age of 3, a love and compassion for people, a caring heart. That will be such a benefit to him in his adult years, if the Lord doesn't return before then.
I'm telling you, grandkids are just the best! I'm so thankful to the Lord, every day for my precious grandbabies! They bring such joy to our lives, and smiles to our faces.

Wow Check out this give away!

This is one exciting give away going on over at Lizzy's blog! Can you imagine giving away such a work of art?! This is no small thing! I totally hope I win this beauty! Go check it out at Pigtails and Snails. She is a VERY talented lady and you'll enjoy looking through her blog!

OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES

I will be so glad when this election is over! I am SO tired of the constant babble about it! There is a lot of hatred and anger out there, being generated by the media, the politicians, and lots of other people in leadership, including teachers and parents. It's gotten so bad, that tonight on my bus route (I drive a bus route for our Wednesday night children's program) one of the little girls, about age 8 or 9, was just ranting and raving about McCain and how if he gets into office she is going to pray that he dies, and if he does she will do an evil laugh. Then she went on to say that people are lying about Obama, saying that he lets people kill babies. Obviously she is not old enough yet to understand the vileness of abortion - especially the heated debate over live birth abortion (if you've not seen any footage on this yet, it will sicken you when you do). The first time I heard of it, I wept and then I couldn't sleep that night. How does God hold back His hand of judgement on people that do such things? Anyway, I digress....
I was shocked to hear such hatred coming from such a young girl. A girl whose only concern should be what color of socks she is going to wear to school tomorrow, or how far her Mom will let her ride her bike today. What happened to the innocence of childhood? Sadly, in this little girl's life, it's been tainted by some hateful talk she's overheard in her home.
I made her stop talking like that and urged her to not think about it or talk about it like that. I told her little girls like her shouldn't be worrying about politics, let the adults handle it. Little ones don't need such stress and worry in their lives. It was so sad, it just broke my heart for her.
I asked my bus worker (a teen in the public schools here) if there was a lot of talk about the election in the high school and she said, "OH YES! And I'm so sick of it! The kids aren't even old enough to vote or have any say in it, but they insist on talking about it and choosing political sides. Some of them are really hateful about it."
I am just so tired of all the mud slinging TV ads, newspaper articles, billboards, bumper stickers, yard signs, etc.... I don't even watch the debates, because you know BOTH of them speak out of both sides of their mouth! Oh I plan to vote - you can count on that!
I don't know who will be voted in on Nov. 4 though, but you know what, whoever it is, God is still in control and like it or not, we'll get the leader we deserve as a nation.
Doesn't it just make you say even more:

Even so COME Lord Jesus!

QUICK AND EASY CHRISTMAS GIFT IDEA

It's been so long since I posted on here. I thought I'd better pop back on and let you know I was still here. I've been busy over at my cooking blog, doing some downsizing and combining some things. I wanted to share this craft idea with you. It's easy, quick and inexpensive. Makes a cute gift for any time of the year.
You will need:

Small mouth, quart size, mason jar
Potpourri
*votive holder
scented votive candle
Seasonal ribbon

Fill the mason jar with the potpourri, nestle the votive holder into the top, add the candle, tie a sesonal ribbon around the top and VOILA! You have a cute, inexpensive gift to give.

* I found these votive holders at Michael's craft store. But you could probably find them at any larger craft store.My jar doesn't have a Fall ribbon on it yet. I took the Summer ribbon off and haven't found a ribbon that I like yet, to replace it.

When you give these, you could also add different ribbons for them to change out during the seasons. Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter, Christmas, etc...

IS YOUR CARGO REACHING ITS DESTINATION?

Clovis Chappell, a minister from a century back, used to tell the story of two paddleboats. They left Memphis about the same time, traveling down the Mississippi River to New Orleans. As they traveled side by side, sailors from one vessel made a few remarks about the snail's pace of the other. Words were exchanged. Challenges were made. And the race began. Competition became vicious as the two boats roared through the Deep South.

One boat began falling behind. Not enough fuel. There had been plenty of coal for the trip, but not enough for a race. As the boat dropped back, an enterprising young sailor took some of the ship's cargo and tossed it into the ovens. When the sailors saw that the supplies burned as well as the coal, they fueled their boat with the material they had been assigned to transport. They ended up winning the race, but burned their cargo.

God has entrusted cargo to us, too: spouses and children. Our job is to do our part in seeing that this cargo reaches its destination. Yet when “our program” takes priority over people, people often suffer. How much cargo do we sacrifice in order to achieve the number one slot? How many people never reach the destination because of the aggressiveness of a competitive captain?

CLEAN BLOOD

The day is over, you are driving home. You tune in your radio. You hear a little blurb about a little village in India where some villagers have died suddenly, strangely, of a flu that has never been seen before. It's not influenza, but three or four fellows are dead, and it's kind of interesting. They're sending some doctors over there to investigate it. You don't think much about it, but on Sunday, coming home from church, you hear another radio spot. Only they say it's not three villagers, it's 30,000 villagers in the back hills of this particular area of India, and it's on TV that night. CNN runs a little blurb; people are heading there from the disease center in Atlanta because this disease strain has never been seen before.

By Monday morning when you get up, it's the lead story. For it's not just India; it's Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, and before you know it, you're hearing this story everywhere, and they have coined it now as "the mystery flu." The President has made some comment that he and everyone are praying and hoping that all will go well over there. But everyone is wondering, "How are we going to contain it?" That's when the President of France makes an announcement that shocks Europe. He is closing their borders. No flights from India, Pakistan, or any of the countries where this thing has been seen. That night you are watching a little bit of CNN before going to bed. Your jaw hits your chest when a weeping woman is translated from a French news program into English: "There's a man lying in a hospital in Paris dying of the mystery flu. "It has come to Europe."

Panic strikes. As best they can tell, once you get it, you have it for a week and you don't know it. Then you have four days of unbelievable symptoms. Then you die. Britain closes it's borders, but it's too late. South Hampton, Liverpool, North Hampton, and it's Tuesday morning when the President of the United States makes the following announcement: "Due to a national security risk, all flights to and from Europe and Asia have been canceled. If your loved ones are overseas, I'm sorry. They cannot come back until we find a cure for this thing."

Within four days our nation has been plunged into an unbelievable fear. People are selling little masks for your face. People are talking about what if it comes to this country, and preachers on Tuesday are saying, "It's the scourge of God."

It's Wednesday night and you are at a church prayer meeting when somebody runs in from the parking lot and says, "Turn on a radio, turn on a radio!" While the church listens to a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to it, the announcement is made, "Two women are lying in a Long Island hospital dying from the mystery flu." Within hours it seems, this thing just sweeps across the country.

People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote. Nothing is working. California, Oregon, Arizona, Florida, Massachusetts. It's as though it's just sweeping in from the borders.

Then, all of a sudden the news comes out. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can be made. It's going to take the blood of somebody who hasn't been infected, and so, sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all those channels of emergency broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple thing: "Go to your downtown hospital and have your blood type taken. That's all we ask of you. When you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood, please make to the hospitals."

Sure enough, when you and your family get down there late on that Friday night, there is a long line, and they've got nurses and doctors coming out and pricking fingers and taking blood and putting labels on it. Your wife and your kids are out there, and they take your blood type and they say, "Wait here in the parking lot and if we call your name, you can be dismissed and go home."

You stand around scared with your neighbors, wondering what in the world is going on, and that this could be the end of the world. Suddenly a young man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He's yelling a name and waving a clipboard. What? He yells it again! And your son tugs on your jacket and says, "Daddy, that's me."

Before you know it, they have grabbed your boy. "Wait a minute, hold it!" And they say, "It's okay, his blood is clean. His blood is pure. We want to make sure he doesn't have the disease. We think he has the right blood type. Your son could save the world."

Five agonizing minutes later, out come the doctors and nurses, crying and hugging one another some are even laughing. It's the first time you have seen anybody laugh in a week, and an old doctor walks up to you and says, "Thank you, sir. Your son's blood type is perfect. It's clean, it is pure, and we can make the vaccine."

As the word begins to spread all across that parking lot full of folks, people are screaming and praying and laughing and crying. But then the gray-haired doctor pulls you and your wife aside and says, "May we see you for a moment? We didn't realize that the donor would be a minor and we need...we need you to sign a consent form."

You begin to sign and then you see that the space that indicates the number of pints of blood to be taken, is empty. "H-h-h-how many pints?" And that is when the old doctor's smile fades and he says, "We had no idea it would be a little child. We weren't prepared. We need it all, sir." "But...but..." "You don't understand. We are talking about the world here. Please sign." "But can't you give him a transfusion?" "If we had clean blood we would. Can you sign? Would you sign?" In numb silence you sign.

Then they say, "Would you like to have a moment with your son before we begin?"

Can you walk away? You've asked yourself, can you walk back to that room where he sits on a table saying, "Daddy? Mommy? What's going on?" Can you take his little hands and say, "Son, your mommy and I love you, and we would never ever let anything happen to you that didn't just have to be. Do you understand that?" And when that old doctor comes back in and says, "I'm sorry, we've got to get started. People all over the world are dying." Can you leave? Can you walk out while he is saying, "Dad? Mom? Dad? Why, why have you forsaken me?"

Then the following week, when they have the ceremony to honor your son, some folks sleep through it, and some folks don't even come because they go on vacation, go fishing, go to the ballgame, stay home with company, and some folks come with a pretentious smile and just pretend to care.

Would you want to jump up and say,

"MY SON DIED FOR YOU!!! DON'T YOU CARE?"

Is that what God is saying? "MY SON DIED FOR YOU. DON'T YOU CARE? DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I CARE?"

~Author Anonymous

He asks us to set one day a week aside, in honor of His Son. How faithful have you been? Or is everything else more important? Something to think about friend.....

Someone needs a minute of your time!

How often have you talked with someone on the telephone who seemed to be in a hurry and wanted to get on with more important business? Or visited with someone on the street and received that same hurried feeling? You've undoubtedly experienced it...and didn't enjoy it. And, perhaps, you have also been guilty of this. If you have, why not decide to invest a little time, save up chunks, bits and pieces of it, and give them away to people who interrupt your pre-established plans?
It is a great principle of love that people don't interrupt, not really. Perhaps there shouldn't even be such a word as interrupt; for when people come into your existence, even for a brief time, that is a wonderful moment of experience for both of you. Relish it. Probe it. Invest some time in them. We can't afford to indulge in the luxury of "being too busy and important" for another person.
We have time for such inanimate things, as pieces of mail, vast sprawling shopping centers, the television program which starts at 7:30. But what about relationships with people? Isn't that a great deal of what life is all about--loving other people? Remember Jesus? How he raced about, hurrying from one city to another, collecting great crowds on the way, to give them a few minutes of hurried heaven-data, then dashing on to the next place?
No, that is not the picture of Jesus the New Testament gives. He had time for people. In a crowd, a woman touched his robe. Lots of people were probably pushing against him, touching his robe, but he discerned the urgency in this particular touch. He stopped, taking valuable time for this "interruption." His disciples were full of fire and computer-like- efficiency. They wanted to get on with the task of getting something done, even if they didn't always know what that "something" was.
Once a bunch of small, grimy-fingered kids came along and wanted to climb on the Master's lap. "Get those kids out of here," thought the goal-oriented disciples. But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God.....And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them. The Son of God knew and expressed the great worth of an individual.
The next time a person "interrupts" you, think not of your work and your deadlines; rather, think of that person's needs, of his covert compliment in desiring to spend a few moments with you. Your meeting may be a significant point in each of your lives, because it is an encounter with another person God has created. You may impart something crucial to his fulfillment--or he to yours. Paul prayed: Now the God of patience and consolation grant you to be likeminded one toward another according to Christ Jesus: Romans 15:5
Who will you make time for today?