<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736</id><updated>2012-02-02T07:18:26.048-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stories From One Journey</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-8642326335860722776</id><published>2010-06-02T17:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T18:31:50.149-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If I could.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Soft lights flicker on the counter next to me as I work. Some  weary soul has come to me. They have walked through my door for a treasured fifty minutes of safety from the world.  I study the lines of their back, the creased skin where there are bones out of alignment or problems with the underlying fascia. I lightly touch problem areas to see how much work may be needed to correct physical issues. The moment I touch them I feel the life force that courses through all our bodies the circulation moves with power....I say a silent prayer as I begin my work in awe once again of the beauty of the Creator for allowing me to be so intimate with His children to aide in healing and nurture.&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts sometimes dwell on the one that rests before me in complete trust that I will care for them even though many have never seen me before.&lt;br /&gt;Today my thoughts went to those that I have loved and lost. It seems The older you get so many things are revealed to your heart. So often we expect young people to understand so much more than what they can. The truth I am realizing is you cannot truly understand something unless you walk the path yourself.&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking of my Grandmother. She would talk of how utterly tired she was sometimes as I grew up. How the energy had left her. How I wish I could sit with her at the table once more and hold her hand and say...I truly understand. I wish as a young strong woman I had helped her more. There was so much I could have done for her around her house to ease her load.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could stare into my Grandpa's eyes once again and not preached a lifeless religion of to do's so he would escape fire. I wish I could have told Him how beautiful he was to me. How much I admired his strong heart. How I wanted to be like him. I wish I had had the wisdom to tell him how much God adored him. What purpose and value he had on earth. I wish I had not let his teasing hurt me but rather used it as an opportunity to play...&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could have understood my Fathers heart while I was young. I wish I would have hugged him more even when He seemed angry. I wish I had not built walls around my heart to protect myself. I did not know he was sick....If I had the chance I would pour encouragement over his life and tell him how great he did in so many things. I would tell him I am proud to be his daughter. I would tell him how special a man he is and was and list all the reasons why so he could hear it.&lt;br /&gt;I would love to see Pop again...to hold him and just be gentle with him. I would love to sit in the porch swing and hold his hand next to my cheek. Before he died the only thing he hoped for was seeing the blackberries come into season just one more time so he could have one last pie...he was 96...I don't know if he ever got that one simple treasure again....I truly understand that one longing...I heard him speak it on an ancient tape I had and it hit my soul ....someone who had so very little who worked so hard on the land...just one pie...I understand Pop....truly I do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suffering brings great understanding...hopefully if we keep our hearts soft it also brings strength of character tenderness and compassion. I am aging. Even with all the good things I do for my body now I feel the weight of the years. It has humbled me in a way nothing else could. The strength I am hoping to know is the kind that is internal and eternal. Strength of the physical comes with diligent sessions in the early morning before most people awaken from slumber. Strength of Character comes from every moment where our beliefs move from thought to the road....Dear Lord help me to always put belief into action, help me to take the wisdom gained and use it from now forward....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Father how much I missed my loved ones...I ache for them every day. I understand so much more about them, about life....I am trusting that one day I will get the opportunity to have these conversations and hold them near my heart once again. If I could...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-8642326335860722776?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8642326335860722776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=8642326335860722776' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8642326335860722776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8642326335860722776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2010/06/if-i-could.html' title='If I could.....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-4075910259014090596</id><published>2010-04-20T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T10:56:56.077-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faithful.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I want to speak of Barbra....I remember her coming into class that first night fresh from the corporate world to explore the beauty of the human form. She was stunning. I invited her to sit next to me. She reminded me of a China doll, Porcelin skin and the most vibrant blue eyes the color of the Agean sea, long dark lashes and thick dark hair. She was trying desperately to get her paperwork together and catch up with where we were.( At the Medical Arts school they did not start everyone at the same place they just cast you in somewhere in the rotation of learning so it was a scramble to retain everything they threw out at first. ) I remember her very quickly making me laugh or us laughing together over the immaturity of so many happenings. I think we bonded over several different factors...possibly our age and sense of humor, but now I think we saw a common dedication in each other that drew our lives together. I had been on a spiritual journey for years, finding my resting place in my Creator. She was on a journey of the physical . Like me motherhood, work, housekeeping and everything else had taken center stage. The weight of allowing life to just steam roll our days caused the literal weight to weigh down our bodies. Most of our education I think I spent so much of my time buried in chocolate and caffeine. Anything that got me through. I am sure she may have a similar testimony. One day near the end of our learning I caught this gleam in her eyes. She had joined a fit camp. Not being a morning person EVER, I thought she was insane to get up at 4:30 to get her tail kicked , see her kids off to school, go to work then go to school all night.&lt;br /&gt;Truth be told I thought the craze would wear off in a couple of weeks and she would once again join me in study with a cup of coffee and a bag of chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;She did not.&lt;br /&gt;Night after night I saw her taking control of something that had gone awry so many years before. It was more than what she ate. It was a change of heart. New confidence radiated from her face. Something about her tenacious spirit to change called out to me. I had tried to talk myself into believing that I could not change my body...It had been too many years. After graduation and finding employment, Barbra had already accomplished her goals of weight loss. She had trained for a 26 mile marathon. She had done numerous fitness camps. She was a physical testimony of the bodies ability to adapt and change into beauty.&lt;br /&gt;She was eternally in my thoughts. That spirit that spoke to her spoke to me. I chatted with her online one day and she was telling me about the new fitness camp she was joining. I told her we still did not have that in our budget. She said right off the bat," I'll train you!" Just like that my life has changed. I had lost over twenty pounds on my own but I have never pushed myself physically. I needed more. Much more. I needed someone who would be faithful to push me. Barbra saw past my poor eyesight, my pitiful sense of balance, my knee pain  to what could be. I think she may be prophetic but does not know it yet. You have to be prophetic to work with someone like me physically. :O) It really is comical. Thankfully our workouts are so early we can barely see each other anyway! I say,"I can hear you but I can't see you!"&lt;br /&gt;I am ever awed at the Lord's goodness. Just when I had the motivation to change He provided a person who would encourage me and push me beyond what I have ever done before. She offers herself free of charge. Yet I will ever be in her debt. One of the things I am struck with about Barbra is her complete faithfulness. So many people have set out on a similar journey with me but none have been this faithful. Many mornings I drive silently through the dark to the park where we meet and nearly each time she is always there a few minutes ahead of me. I see the Fathers heart each time I see that car parked next to the entrance. My eyes have filled with tears over that stability. That is a characteristic of God. How much more I love the Father when I see one of His children able to carry out the responsibility of that gift. No matter what Barbra commits to she follows through. She has to be one of the most tenacious people I have ever met. I am reminded of the story of Jacob in the Bible who wrestled an Angel and held the Angel so tightly and would not let go unless the Angel blessed him. Barbra may have wounds like Jacob did. But she holds on and will not let go. She will be blessed. I am a better woman because of her. My body is  stronger than it has been in the last 20 years. I have barely scratched the surface of where I need to go but with her help I am on my way. One day perhaps I will match her steps. I cannot see that far ahead yet...but it does not matter she does. She is my friend and a woman with a heart like a Lion. I am so thankful for her, so thankful for her faithful enduring spirit that pushes me on when I am drained beyond belief and never fails.....I love you Barbra. Blessed is the woman who can be called FAITHFUL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-4075910259014090596?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4075910259014090596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=4075910259014090596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/4075910259014090596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/4075910259014090596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2010/04/faithful.html' title='Faithful.....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-3931895753181525960</id><published>2009-11-08T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T19:19:34.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Soft Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Soft Heart...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One year. A year can make all the difference in a life. I can truly look back over the course of one year with wondering eyes and hardly believe the events that have unfolded in this journey. A year ago I knew nothing of the beauty of enough.  I have to walk carefully with my words because I want you to know what I mean by "enough". Certainly we have never gone hungry. We have had shelter,We have had clothing given to us. But we have never known in the last 8 years what it was not to be concerned over how we would meet our bills, we had no buffer in our checking account, we had no way to plan for anything. We were a family of five surviving on one small income.  Some view this subject as taboo. Don't speak of money I can almost hear. But it is only when we can be most vulnerable that we are able to truly live and touch someone else and testify of the greatness of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times I became so discouraged that I withdrew, I fought with God asking "why?,"" we are intelligent people, why is this door of provision sealed tightly-" Every time a promotion was sought it would be given over to some one else...every time strategy would be put into place to advance our family ...again the seal became tighter....I became so angry with God I did not want to speak to Him. I would stay in my cocoon silent , furious, and bitter. I was becoming a person that I was not meant to be. My Christ given nature is that of eternal optimism, hope and curiosity , appreciation for every blessing...but the my heart was becoming like a stone.&lt;br /&gt;I could feel the weight of that pulling me down at every turn. I regret I did not bury myself in Father's arms the way I should have. Instead I would find things to keep me busy. Many things in and of themselves productive and helpful. I learned to make everything my family needed from scratch. Everything from medicine to laundry detergent. I am thankful for all the research and knowledge I have, but now looking across those long years I realize what Father was after all along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of the lack of trust I had in my earthly Father to provide for me I transferred that same fear to my heavenly Daddy. All the head knowledge in the world will not drive out that fear only God can in His own way. Under my earthly fathers care there was a lack of every provision. He was a dear man but he was inadequate  to meet the needs of my family.  Because of the reality of where we were financially I started to believe God was inadequate or worse that He did not care.  Didn't He see we had to stand in line for food with the low income and those out of work.....we were supposed to be "HIS" children , wasn't He supposed to pull us out of our mess? ....the filth in my own spirit is hard to admit...that sense of Pride and entitlement.....I needed to be awakened. I was in a slumber of self absorption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started a month fast....the weeks passed without food, every time I went to find Father I was hit with one assault after another. The crisis that struck me during that time was such a flag that something was breaking in the spirit realm for our family. I felt like nothing was happening in my heart with all the attacks. But at the end of that fast I was released to go to school and nothing has been the same since. Every time I would inquire of Father it was almost like I was ushered into making a decision to go even though I had so many doubts about adding debt to our already growing load.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I heard the voice of the Lord, as I drove the Baby around to various places to get our groceries and do errands. He spoke the words," SOFT HEART" and the tears started to fall ...&lt;br /&gt;I realized what he was after that all along...like Paul no matter what situation I find myself , no matter how hard, horrible, unkind, unfair, mysterious, I am to remain with this heart of contentment, this soft , soft, heart....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought of dear people in my life, whether friends, coworkers, family, it seems because of what I have walked and understand so deeply I hear the winds carry so much bitterness, so much dispair- whether we walk in poverty, or wealth, whether we walk married, or alone, whether we walk disabled emotionally or physically, whether we have children or don't have children.....if we become bitter we start to die, we have lost the dearest treasure we have our childlike expectancy that we have a Father that will meet all our needs and beyond to what we want. He has taken our empty hands and filled them....we have a long road to find true freedom but it took me many long years to the real freedom of a soft heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-3931895753181525960?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3931895753181525960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=3931895753181525960' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3931895753181525960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3931895753181525960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2009/11/soft-heart.html' title='Soft Heart'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-8717162565794211140</id><published>2009-05-22T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T17:54:27.598-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Teeth!</title><content type='html'>Audrey just lost two front teeth in two days! Yey! Now that bumbling tooth fairy has to come up with other ideas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-8717162565794211140?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8717162565794211140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=8717162565794211140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8717162565794211140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8717162565794211140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2009/05/teeth.html' title='Teeth!'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-6508115547338258494</id><published>2009-04-22T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T12:32:33.097-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The home stretch....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I have missed the silence and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;order&lt;/span&gt; of thought putting words to a page. The days here seem to blend into each other. No beginnings and no ends. I lay Benjamin on the bed to change him and think how tall he is, how beautifully formed. I thought the same thing about Judah and Audrey. There is something so deeply touching about seeing your child healthy and brimming with curiosity about the world. I place a toy in his hand and hear his words of delight. I recently bought some cast iron stars from an antique store in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Shallotte&lt;/span&gt; NC and he loves to hold those and proclaim over and over, "Sta, Sta". We had a family vacation for 9 days at Holden beach in a stunning beach home we were able to rent. We were able to take our Rowdy with us as the owner knew the gentle nature of whippets. The children had so much fun. It was a blessing to walk the shore lines with Judah and Audrey in the evening and hunt for crabs. We caught a tiny one in a little crab catcher we had and brought it home for study. The kids could barely sleep for the joy of watching that little thing climb it's cage. We took Benjamin to the sea for his first time and unlike his older siblings he embraced the ocean as if it were his dearest love. It took all my energy to keep dragging him from the breakers. He loved it! His first glace was with utter glee! He kept saying,"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Waaauh&lt;/span&gt;....(for water)&lt;br /&gt;I finally got him interested in digging in the sand while Judah and Audrey played in the surf with some other friends they made. He ate his share too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had some simple family time, plenty of naps in the afternoons which was a treat. I had no idea how tired I really was. This past year has drained me to the core. We had the luxury of eating out most nights. Something we have not done much of in years. It is so nice to have someone else cook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also had the blessing of inviting some dear family and friends share our rental. My sister and her husband and baby came a couple of days, then they left and we had another family of three come to share the end of our stay with one of my dearest friends who I have known and loved since the early years of college. Such a pleasure to talk long into the night about ideas, dreams, relationships. I loved each moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon it was time to leave and I was ready. You miss home after awhile. We pulled into the drive and discovered a pear tree had fallen and we rejoiced! It hit our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;HVAC&lt;/span&gt; unit so we will have a new one put in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;courtesy&lt;/span&gt; of the ins. Co. The tree could not have hit a better spot! It did no real damage to the house. We are so thankful to be getting a up to date unit and will help if we decide to sell in the next couple of years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am closing in on my schooling. The month of May will prove to be quite a challenge as I have set the goal of finishing all my clinics , on top of course work , tests, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;home life&lt;/span&gt;. Even now I am reviewing for the National exam. It is very intimidating to think of so I plan to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;over prepared&lt;/span&gt;. The other students say you have to test downtown in this room with glass windows , high &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;surveillance&lt;/span&gt;,everywhere. You can take nothing in and take nothing out. I feel like a lawyer going to a bar exam. Oh I pray I do well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June should be a relief as I will just have my coursework to do and no additional clinics. What a blessing to complete this journey. I am ready to begin work and do something I was created to do. One step at a time I remind myself. There is much to get into order before I am able to find a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful for purpose. Something to do with the days I have been given, the vision becomes clearer and clearer. Our feet are planted on a road I would never want to deviate from. I cannot wait to share what Father is birthing in our hearts but for now I stand guarded in prayer of that beautiful dream. A dream so big......"that the facts don't matter."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-6508115547338258494?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6508115547338258494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=6508115547338258494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/6508115547338258494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/6508115547338258494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2009/04/home-stretch.html' title='The home stretch....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-7809997723354164527</id><published>2009-02-23T08:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T08:49:19.672-08:00</updated><title type='text'>String of thoughts....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We just celebrated our older two children's birthday's recently. I stand amazed at the years passing so quickly. Judah is now 7 and Audrey is now 6. Our days have been so full . I have been home schooling Judah and Audrey now for nearly two years. Judah has not been tested yet by the State but the things he picks up to read have to be about fourth grade level. I am so shocked that he was so interested in reading. From the reports of many other friends the girls seemed more interested. Audrey on the other hand who I thought would just soar does not seem nearly so compelled to pick up a good book. She gets distracted much easier. Also frustrated easier. She is finally reading sentences and understands all her sounds. They are both doing well in math and understanding concepts. Audrey really has a love for art. I have never seen a child out of all the ones I have cared for over the years be this advanced at this age. I delight in all the detailed drawings and paintings she fills the house with. My quandry now is what to do with all those drawings. I can't bare to get rid of anything she draws unless it is completely scribble scrabble. Any parents out there that can give me some insight on how to part with her things.....or how to sort, pick and choose? Horrible position to be in. We had planned to take the children to the aquarium or the zoo but when given the option they both wanted to go to Chuck E. Cheese. I cringed. We are pressed for time anyway so we decided just for this year it would be best .So we took the kids to SAS for lunch and then bought some tokens and let them run around for three hours or so in that crazy place. Ohhhh I don't think I ever want to go there again. Next year will be the ocean or the mountains.Benjamin is talking up a storm lately. He has learned to count to 10 and loves to be chased after I say 10! Sometimes he will iniate the chase by starting with the number 6 and count to 10 so he can get faster results. He just screams with laughter when I hop up from the rocker and run after him. He has this little white derby hat he wears now and it cracks me up. He loves to yank it down tight on his head and walk around. I have been rocking him near bed times and I wrap him up in his Thomas blanket and he will look at me with this huge grin on his face and dimples just popping while I hold him. I have even started rocking the older two again just to get in some closeness with them. I find my days so full of study and trying to keep a handle on issues at home I barely have time to ever sit and rest anymore. I am so weary. I am just praying for the day when the schooling will be over. I enjoy the process so much but I have more on my plate sometimes than I think I can handle. Thanks be to the dear Lord He gives me strength to keep going. Clinics are going well. I have the opportunity to work with the public and learn to interact professionally. David is excelling at work and getting much praise for the changes he is implementing in his position. We are all well and warm. We have nothing to complain of . We are blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-7809997723354164527?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7809997723354164527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=7809997723354164527' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/7809997723354164527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/7809997723354164527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2009/02/string-of-thoughts.html' title='String of thoughts....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-3864149625268307267</id><published>2009-01-28T19:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T20:02:10.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New words....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Benjamin is saying so many cute things it just stops me in my tracks when he speaks. I can never get over how marvelous the mind is. How such a little soul can understand so much. He causes us to smile nearly each day with something new...he says,"nana" for banana.  "cank cu' for thank you...uh oh, qeese for cheese. He goes vroom vroom for a truck. He calls our dog Rowdy, "dowa' , "cuukie" for cookie, " crack cu" for cracker. He is enjoying his freedom so much right now. Running from room to room exploring with me on his heels. He is growing so fast.....I put the rocking chair back in his room so I can hold him all I can....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-3864149625268307267?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3864149625268307267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=3864149625268307267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3864149625268307267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3864149625268307267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-words.html' title='New words....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-4706970769573266793</id><published>2009-01-11T18:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T18:19:55.331-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mutiny!.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Well you teach a kid to read and write and what do you get???Mutiny letters tacked around the house! Awhile back I told the kids to do their chores and they wanted to play. Of course they started talking (very loudly I might add) in the kitchen well within earshot about how awful their lives were....I had to laugh. I laugh even now. So they come in grab up a sheet of paper from a pile I have for them and I hear them getting out the crayons and markers and I don't know what all to write this earth shattering letter to their mother who was standing over them with a chain to make their bed and clean up the toys.&lt;br /&gt;Later Audrey and Judah come in and thump that letter down and I nearly lost it.( I only wish I could get a picture on here but the digital is working on and off because of a busted battery cover.)&lt;br /&gt;The Letter was in Judah's legible scribble scrabble writing and both children had signed the bottom with their names and Audrey had drawn a picture of them both with their fists raised! Unbelievable! Any way here is the letter locked up and kept for such a time of black mail:&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Dad, You make us work too much. We are going far away! Judah (Picture of boy with raised fist! Audrey(picture of girl and raised fist!)&lt;br /&gt;I got another one from Judah not long ago about the trials of being put second when the baby's needs came first......oh I tell you ....they are dangerous little critters when they can read and write!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-4706970769573266793?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4706970769573266793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=4706970769573266793' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/4706970769573266793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/4706970769573266793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2009/01/mutiny.html' title='Mutiny!.......'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-4523478820719729063</id><published>2008-12-22T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T19:24:24.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bedtime....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;These wonderful nights at home on break I have been putting the children to bed and it has been such joy to me. It is funny how you view things differently when it is taken from you. I have loved reading The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe to Judah. He and I are really living all the stories. Each night a new adventure as he leans against me and reads along. He corrects me when I stumble over a word or change something small. It is amazing how he keeps me on my toes. I am loving each chapter with he and Audrey by my side and their sweet breath in my face. Then I read Audrey's stories or make up a spur of the moment story about a Polar bear I invented named Winky who is a little stinky and has a sister named Pinky . Winky is forever getting into trouble but learns many good lessons without many repeats!How I love our stories and time together. Sometimes I will massage their legs and they will talk to me in the quiet. Such sweet memories. Such a blessed life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-4523478820719729063?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4523478820719729063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=4523478820719729063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/4523478820719729063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/4523478820719729063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/12/bedtime.html' title='Bedtime....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-5679263356511341560</id><published>2008-12-22T19:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T19:14:28.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prayer Warrior....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Audrey has become this amazing prayer warrior in our home...there is nothing that she won't ask God for. Be it a lost toy, a crisis she needs help with she instantly cries out to her heavenly Daddy. How it blesses me to the core to see this solidify in her life. She has intense faith. I love how she insists on praying for me each night. It has truely rendered me speechless at the way she grasps our dependance on God. I love seeing this person of profound potential blooming and blooming for the Kingdom. I am so humbled to have her prayers cover my life. Each day at the door before I leave for school, she will place her precious hands on my arm and ask," can I pray for you?" I look into her firery brown eyes and smile and say,"of course I would love it" She bows her head and says," I bless you Mommy in Jesus name, I pray she gets out of school and do the job!" I smile and walk out covered in such a way I would have never dreamed. Once at her Grandma's house she got locked in a closet and she screamed and screamed and finally she cried out to Jesus and the door came open. She told us all downstairs how Jesus opened the door. Seems she is turning into a butterfly far quicker than I did.....My darling girl...Blessings on your beautiful heart before God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-5679263356511341560?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5679263356511341560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=5679263356511341560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/5679263356511341560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/5679263356511341560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/12/prayer-warrior.html' title='Prayer Warrior....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-8134798564033937140</id><published>2008-12-17T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T11:57:08.022-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Ah la la'' the sweetest words on earth...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Benjamin is so quickly becoming a little boy....I hold dear each progression of his babyhood...He has a complete set of teeth now , his walking has improved greatly....my heart thrills to see him toddle across the living room floor and fling himself into my outstretched arms. He is saying a variety of words, Judah , Mama , Dada, Ductie(for Duck) , Fan, Audah for Audrey, night night  and dicker dicker dicker whatever that means :D! One day while swinging him outside under the oak tree I kept saying ,"I Love You!" over and over. He finally looked at me and grinned from ear to ear and said in this cute little whisper...."ah la la" so now he has been saying it every day and I never tire of hearing it......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-8134798564033937140?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8134798564033937140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=8134798564033937140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8134798564033937140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8134798564033937140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/12/ah-la-la-sweetest-words-on-earth.html' title='&quot;Ah la la&apos;&apos; the sweetest words on earth...'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-5162096996057361065</id><published>2008-12-06T18:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T18:13:04.989-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh to have enough time to write....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;the things I would have to tell you.... like how I spent all day at school learning many wonders of the body, awed again by the sheer knowledge that we were created by a profoundly intelligent God....that I could not wait to get home and grab Benjamin up in my arms and kiss him , then take some stolen moments later with Judah and Audrey in the bed telling them of the tree we would find tomorrow and hearing their thoughts and delight...how they turned to me  and offered their hugs and prayers over me....how blessed I am of women. There is so much to say....so little time....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-5162096996057361065?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5162096996057361065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=5162096996057361065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/5162096996057361065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/5162096996057361065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/12/oh-to-have-enough-time-to-write.html' title='Oh to have enough time to write....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-7167318764283464799</id><published>2008-11-26T19:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T20:05:10.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Tomorrow will dawn the 40th Thanksgiving I will have had the deep honor to live and see. The morning will be filled with travel. Our purple van will be towing three of the most beautiful, precious children I have had the blessing to love. My husband will be by my side traveling back to a place I cannot ever fully leave. The roots of me planted firmly in red North Carolina Soil.  The place where my forefathers and foremothers walked and courted and plowed faithfully for over 200 years. Every tree and blade of grass, every smell and sound of birds that lived in the ancient trees behind my grandparents home. How strong those voices are in my memory. I don't hear birds sing that way anymore. The Lineage of the Nance family will assemble at the tiny Salem Methodist church, there will be sweet faces that I have loved all my life. There will be laughter and tears over the ones that have gone on to be with Jesus. There will be quality food that makes you long for home and in the sanctuary there will be the sounds of Banjo's and mandolins and guitars . Sounds from people who worked hard all their lives sharing the most pleasant joy they know which is  music. I get so homesick sometimes. Oh that I could go back for one more day to those dusty dirt roads and explore the fields and creeks. Walk in the moonlight out to the cemetary with just the overwhelming sense of peace and protection. Steal quietly through the forest with only thoughts of what wonderful creature I might find. Taste wild cherries, may pops, and whatever grew lush and perfect in Grandpa's garden. To sit on that old porch swing and listen to a thousand stories of the time before I came. To be held and kissed and anointed with cologne in the old parlor by my Great grandfathers soft hands. To be given a hershey bar. Such simple beginnings. Such royal heritage. Thankful.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-7167318764283464799?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7167318764283464799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=7167318764283464799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/7167318764283464799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/7167318764283464799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/11/thankful.html' title='Thankful.....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-2593953758389306696</id><published>2008-11-06T21:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:08:47.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Audrey.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My Darling Audrey,&lt;br /&gt;You don't know how my heart aches every time I have to walk out the door without you when I leave for school. When I see you frantically trying to say goodbye at the door and racing to the window to blow me kisses and standing there watching till I have gone completely out of site. Many days I have left the drive in tears.  I want you to know I am tearing myself away from you because I want the best for you. I want to give you those days you beg for beside the sea and the trips to the museums and the animals and I want us as a family to know what it is to have free weekends and be able to truly rest. My sweet girl how I love your passionate heart. It used to annoy me that you had to say goodbye a hundred times. Now I see your need to make a final connection. I see my own heart in yours every time you tell me you love me at the door, you ask to kiss me, you tell me so fervently you will miss me. I hardly know what to do with all the love you have to offer. I hardly feel worthy to call you mine. But I write with a thankful heart you are mine and that Father saw fit to bring me such a gift and wonder as you. I love you my sweet daughter and look forward to weeks listening to the sounds of the waves crashing as we make our sand castles and play ....finally play....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-2593953758389306696?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2593953758389306696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=2593953758389306696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/2593953758389306696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/2593953758389306696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/11/to-audrey.html' title='To Audrey.....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-3718707571417122730</id><published>2008-11-02T11:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T11:29:00.377-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Have you laid eyes on this????</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Check out www.hubblesite.org. I was blown away by these pictures of outerspace! If you haven't been captivated by anything in awhile take a look at this art work by our creator!&lt;br /&gt;He just can't be outdone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-3718707571417122730?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3718707571417122730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=3718707571417122730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3718707571417122730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3718707571417122730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/11/have-you-laid-eyes-on-this.html' title='Have you laid eyes on this????'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-6266428122879371701</id><published>2008-11-01T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T17:34:04.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If I had a theme song....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It would be crashing and burning! Pray I can get through my finals! I am pooped. Exhaused....beyond reason. And I am pushing forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-6266428122879371701?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6266428122879371701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=6266428122879371701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/6266428122879371701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/6266428122879371701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/11/if-i-had-theme-song.html' title='If I had a theme song....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-8379765930354965208</id><published>2008-10-27T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T12:17:20.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anole......not exactly a Seminole....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;We finally did it! We caught a brown sluggish lizard today. He hunkerd down under some rocks next to our Rosemary bush , I told Audrey to guard him while I ran for a jar. Couldn't find anything really suitable in such a rush so my McDonald's iced coffee cup had to work. Judah, Audrey and I all cornered the little thing and I was finally able to usher him or her into the cup. Audrey acted like we won the lottery. Me personally I think the lottery would have been a bit nicer because all I have seen today is the face of that LIZARD! She walks around holding him and talking about him and I was shocked to see him run across my keyboard awhile ago worried he would get lost in the house and stink everything up. But we managed to catch him. He has provided a good homeschool day. We studied the Anole's eating habits, habitat and other things like markings etc. He was brown when we caught him, now he is a nice lime green. Oh the times we have at this house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-8379765930354965208?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8379765930354965208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=8379765930354965208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8379765930354965208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8379765930354965208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/10/anolenot-exactly-seminole.html' title='Anole......not exactly a Seminole....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-3986143791947768193</id><published>2008-10-26T18:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T18:14:20.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is the lifetime.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I have gotten into the habit when time allows to sit with each of my older children in their beds with my massage lotion and before they drift off to sleep I massage their sweet legs and feet. They are delighted by my attention. It is amazing when I am loving them in this way how open they become in their thoughts and speech. They are so thankful. Tonight after I started working on Judah's legs he leaned his head back on the pillow and went," ahhhhhh....this is the lifetime." I have to agree. This is the lifetime.....how sweet we have it....I do not take a moment for granted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-3986143791947768193?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3986143791947768193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=3986143791947768193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3986143791947768193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3986143791947768193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-is-lifetime.html' title='This is the lifetime.....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-2968292468348653001</id><published>2008-10-22T19:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T07:27:36.547-07:00</updated><title type='text'>May the best man win.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am praying not for a particular party to win this election but for the man God wants in office to win. There are things about both canidates that make me cringe and things about both that make me want to cheer.  Why can't there be a between party. I'd like to see someone that was not raised in wealth to go to office one day, someone that can truly relate to poverty. Someone humble and confident all at once. Someone that did not think they are all that and a bag of chips. Someone that cared more about people than the power.  Someone that did not look as if the vaseline were still left on their lips and teeth after the GQ shoot and someone that wasn't so old they had one foot in the grave and another on a banana peel.  Someone that was so proud of where they stood they didn't try to cover up their beliefs by going around John's barn verbally to get your focus off subject so you never really knew how they felt. I wish my Grand Daddy were still here.....he'd give both of them a run for their money!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-2968292468348653001?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2968292468348653001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=2968292468348653001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/2968292468348653001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/2968292468348653001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/10/may-best-man-win.html' title='May the best man win.....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-2157083070288423577</id><published>2008-10-22T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T12:34:31.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Insane.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;I am about to tell you what is insane. Taking two kids and a baby to a grocery store! Whatever visions you can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;conjure&lt;/span&gt; up in the way of tragedy, crisis and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;catastrophe&lt;/span&gt; I have probably seen it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-2157083070288423577?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2157083070288423577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=2157083070288423577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/2157083070288423577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/2157083070288423577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/10/insane.html' title='Insane.....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-3696141712180653554</id><published>2008-10-20T11:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T12:34:17.838-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fragrance of Christ.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;2 Corinthians 2:15 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My senses have been awakened anew these past months. It seems everything has come alive and in focus to me....My attention has been drawn to the gift of smell. What it means to my life and how it matters to God. It seems some scents just transport me to nearly the height of heaven and some repel my very sense of direction and thinking. I was just thinking of accounts from the bible about different passages that mentioned herbs and perfumes and I was overwhelmed to find so many verses as I flipped the pages. I was in tears thinking of Mary crying at Jesus' feet wiping them with her hair and anointing them with Nard a very costly perfume. I can't imagine the reality of being at His feet and pouring my life out before Him in a physical sense. What healing must have taken place that afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a instructor that loves essential oils.  She has kindly taken the time to instruct several of her students privately to mix and learn the skills of aroma therapy.  As we sat around the table the other night I was amazed at the affect each aroma had on my emotions. Some had distant memories attached , some were light, some strong, floral, woody.  I could not help but be attracted to things like citrus that just smelled so clean or to the smell of Jasmine so floral and beautifully romantic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking of Father and how fragrance means so much to Him. He created all these different smells for us to enjoy. I have been thinking about how my life might really smell in a spiritual sense to those who believe and to those that don't believe. Would I be a fresh lemon or grapefruit pure and clean, the lovely jasmine, the expensive perfume like Nard woody and strong.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I do pray that the fragrance I carry will be his and his alone. That I will be trusted with the precious smell of life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-3696141712180653554?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3696141712180653554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=3696141712180653554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3696141712180653554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3696141712180653554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/10/fragrance-of-christ.html' title='The Fragrance of Christ.......'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-1823092313544823614</id><published>2008-10-18T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T07:47:52.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Regret....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Audrey slides around the corner this morning, asks me,"why did God make people talk?" I said," I don't know but I bet He regrets it sometimes!"&lt;br /&gt;heh heh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-1823092313544823614?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1823092313544823614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=1823092313544823614' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/1823092313544823614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/1823092313544823614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/10/regret.html' title='Regret....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-1958488285001913213</id><published>2008-10-16T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T08:03:12.539-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So many firsts......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Benjamin took his first independent steps the other day. I stared wide eyed as our last baby walked away from his baby hood. Children gleefully embrace all the new changes; the wonder of the world around them, while parents stand by and cheer them on with tears .  I remember my Grandmothers face as I was leaving for college. Her standing at the door of my 70 chevy impala . I had lived with her and Grandpa through high school. I did not quite grasp the mix of sorrow and joy I saw on her face . Her crying caught me off guard. I can still see her there her hands in the position of supplication sending me off to a new life always carried by her sweet prayers of protection and blessing. Now I understand her more than ever. For every tooth lost, every step made, every door walked out of, my children are inching away from home and all I can do is stand for them, and with them and send them forth with sweet prayers of protection and blessing; believing that like me God will keep them and bring them to maturity in Him. I pray with all my heart they might know fullness of joy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-1958488285001913213?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/1958488285001913213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=1958488285001913213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/1958488285001913213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/1958488285001913213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-many-firsts.html' title='So many firsts......'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-7845679862364756517</id><published>2008-10-04T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T22:27:33.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Butterflies......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Everywhere I turn I am followed by silent wings that flutter close to my face...waving brilliant colors I can barely describe, reflecting light and catching the swells of weightless waves from a sea of mist and cloud. There can be no mistake....I am being transformed....I stood silent today in a plain parking lot of a common grocery store, loading my things into the back of our van....the butterfly directly in front of me, rust and gold waving her wings to encourage my heart. Yes there is no mistake the Lord's words to me. I never would have believed these signs as a younger woman. But here I am forty and I have become a child.....Since that class so many weeks ago about the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sphenoid&lt;/span&gt; bone, the butterfly behind my eyes the message comes clearer and clearer....like the lenses in an eye doctors office when you go for new glasses with each click I see new perspective, new meaning. My birthday came to me in an unusual way....some dear friends planned a precious outing for me, and at that supper one of my friends presented me with this necklace of beauty. A bright blue butterfly covered in sea green jewels. Then cards came  one after another and the  butterflies fluttered in with nearly each one. No one had known what Father was whispering to me....I could have cried a river of tears.... I have been praying for encouragement in my life. Somehow I had forgotten my purpose. Another sister that has walked with me closer than anyone, took me to a downtown restaurant called the Red Room. Even now I dream of that night. The glowing walls and the slow conversation unhurried, the unique food. Then as she was driving me home, I looked out my window to a wall painted on a building downtown and there was beautiful butterflies floating suspended in their flight....Father whispering, reminding me....transformation....I went home and fell into a deep sleep....I dreamed I went into this dark tiny closet room....darkness so thick you could not see your hand in front of your face...my heart pounded....I started shaking the door screaming for help.....crying for help....helpless....an unseen hand felt internally came down and crushed the door knob....I was undone....lost.....I used all my energy trying to escape that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;prison&lt;/span&gt;, that torment....exhausted I came to the end of my strength. I began to  cry out to Jesus....Please help me Jesus and as soon as His name was off my lips that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;impenetrable&lt;/span&gt; door was burst open, this profound light chased the darkness away and David was waiting for me and laughing....I awoke. All around me I am hearing a voice. The voice of my Daddy, my heavenly Father who will not allow me to stay the same because He loves me so very much. A Father who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;truly&lt;/span&gt; loves His children will not allow them to live in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;mediocrity&lt;/span&gt;. So everywhere I look I see them, these literal reminders of what I am to become. I am in transition in that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;cocoon&lt;/span&gt; now where it is dark...... and if I am honest I am afraid; and yet there is expectation and joy of what is to come. I have not lived so long as to dismiss these events as foolish or long enough to see the end events unfold but I am so thankful for this journey. So thankful I am being reminded on a very regular basis that I have not been forgotten. My wings are being formed in this dark place, my colors brushed on by the master artist Himself. I am wrapped up tight and growing waiting to come forth from that cocoon , spread my wings and take my flight.....How I love you Lord. Thank you for remembering me, honoring me and touching my heart the way you do.....Tanya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-7845679862364756517?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/7845679862364756517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=7845679862364756517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/7845679862364756517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/7845679862364756517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/10/butterflies.html' title='Butterflies......'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-2592991645767354848</id><published>2008-09-25T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T18:31:08.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So adorable.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Benjamin is doing so many new things now it is hard to keep up with all the changes. He is saying" Uh Oh "'when he drops things. He seems to have Judahs affinity for Thomas the train. It probably helps too that I have all three trains painted over his crib. Each night I tell Benjamin to say , "night night Thomas, James and Percy" I didn't think too much of it but each night I could see his wheels turning when I would tell the trains good night. Now when I put him in his crib he will reach his sweet little hand up to the paintings on the wall and point to each train and say,"nigh...nigh...." then I say blessings over him, kiss his dear head and I wave good night to him and he stands up in his crib holding the rail with one hand and smiling and waving to me with the other. Is there any thing on earth that would touch a mothers heart more? So sweet these days with my baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-2592991645767354848?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/2592991645767354848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=2592991645767354848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/2592991645767354848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/2592991645767354848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/09/so-adorable.html' title='So adorable.....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-8004980205974676200</id><published>2008-09-25T18:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T18:21:33.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Apple.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Oh that darling baby Benjamin had David I just laughing tonight. He was sitting in his high chair at the table. He has so many adorable quirks It would take a book to list them all. But one that I want to highlight is his need to hold something while he is eating. Usually I just give him a spoon or something to play with while I feed him. It keeps his mind occupied and allows smoothe suppers. Tonight his spoon had fallen on the floor so I just handed him an apple from the bowl and just thought he would play with it while I finished feeding him. Much to my surprise and David's He started chewing on it and when he got a taste of it he just chowed down! We were laughing so hard! He sounded like a man biting into that thing. We were worried about the peel that seemed to bother him so David took the apple away to peel it for him and you should have seen the river of tears that flowed....it was rather funny and sad all at once. Then when the apple was handed back to him the water works stopped immediately and such a sound of relief came from Benjamins' mouth. It just cracked us up. Who would have thought about a 13 month old going to town on an apple?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-8004980205974676200?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8004980205974676200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=8004980205974676200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8004980205974676200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8004980205974676200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/09/apple.html' title='The Apple.....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-6475269097755611572</id><published>2008-09-24T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T18:59:26.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whew......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I cannot even begin to write of the relief I am feeling right now. I have just finished another semester at school. I had two anatomy classes this time back to back and they nearly did me in. I studied and studied but all I could pray after I glanced at the final was "dear Lord just let me pass" When I say it was horrible I want you to know by no stretch of the imagination that it was truly horrible. The way it was worded, presented, laid out....Horrible and may I just add one more adjective....Hideious....maybe another one odious....and just to sum it up in my children's lingo....poopy stinky diaper! But by some grace I passed and not only passed but came close to a B, with that averaged in with my other tests and participation for the class I walked with an A. Whew, whew, shoooo weeee! Now I just have two more of those stinkers and then I am home free from Anatomy! I love learning about the body but not under this much pressure! I made an A in My other Anatomy too which I think makes me feel deserving of a night out on the town! A movie and supper at some fancy resteraunt downtown. Well a girl can dream can't she? Well maybe a movie at home and a bowl of goodberry's flavor of the day! I can't believe it...by the time Christmas rolls around I will have finished half of my education for this trade. Wow! That is exciting! I cannot wait to be employed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-6475269097755611572?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6475269097755611572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=6475269097755611572' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/6475269097755611572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/6475269097755611572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/09/whew.html' title='Whew......'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-8164005419290311423</id><published>2008-09-22T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T19:49:49.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Old friends.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am finding such comfort in listening to music I heard as a young child and then as a teen. Music shapes a person in so many ways.I think our spirits are so unique that we naturally gravitate to different styles and that in turn causes our lives to become even more solidified on it's path. Since very young I have been drawn to music with powerful lyrics that stay with you for a lifetime. Right now I am listening to some of my favorites like Don &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mclean&lt;/span&gt; who wrote such haunting melodies as Empty Chairs and Vincent. My brother in law Suggested Pandora web site on his blog and I am so happy I looked into it. Late into the night my stressed life is soothed by James Taylor, Alison &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kraus&lt;/span&gt;, Vince Gil, Simon and Garfunkel. Old friends come back to me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;after&lt;/span&gt; all these years to hold my hand through these endless days of work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-8164005419290311423?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8164005419290311423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=8164005419290311423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8164005419290311423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8164005419290311423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/09/old-friends.html' title='Old friends.....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-6986992876018796960</id><published>2008-09-08T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T08:37:07.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Funny.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I took the rare trip to the movie store last night to find something for the family to watch. I wanted something funny. We needed a good laugh. Well I remembered seeing the trailer over the summer for Mr. Beans Holiday. I sat there in tears in the theater over just the trailer so I thought Judah and Audery would get a kick out of it. I was a bit worried because sometimes trailers show all the high lights and all the rest of the movie is boring. Well I could not have been more delighted. We laughed pretty much all the way through. Judah and I just laughed and hugged each other. I had tears streaming down my face it was so hilarious. If you want a CLEAN movie, with nothing offensive for the family this is it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-6986992876018796960?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6986992876018796960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=6986992876018796960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/6986992876018796960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/6986992876018796960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/09/funny-funny.html' title='Funny Funny.......'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-4714461039808609754</id><published>2008-08-29T20:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T20:09:37.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost walking.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My dear Benjamin is so close to walking, for the longest time we have watched with gaining confidence cruise around the furniture. These past few days he can place his hand on the wall and go to standing and walk along the wall. Tonight David and I sat on the floor facing each other and let Benjamin take his first lunges toward us until he got bored. There were a couple of times where we could clearly see his ability to balance and walk: he would actually straighten himself up and take a step or two. I am sure he has the ability he just does not know it yet. He is as powerful as a bull. Amazing strength for such a young one. His brother and sister wait with anticipation at his ability to play with them. They work really well together...Most of the time...!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-4714461039808609754?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4714461039808609754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=4714461039808609754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/4714461039808609754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/4714461039808609754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/08/almost-walking.html' title='Almost walking.....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-6762366774288820611</id><published>2008-08-25T20:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T20:56:41.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anterior View of the Sphenoid bone....breathtaking....click on the picture to enlarge.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="center"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;" class="floatnone"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Gray146.png" class="image" title="Gray146.png"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 314px; height: 204px;" alt="" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/0/0d/Gray146.png/300px-Gray146.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-6762366774288820611?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6762366774288820611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=6762366774288820611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/6762366774288820611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/6762366774288820611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/08/anterior-view-of-sphenoid.html' title='Anterior View of the Sphenoid bone....breathtaking....click on the picture to enlarge.'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-6207175077683879581</id><published>2008-08-25T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T20:59:01.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It was back to school tonight after a 10 day break. Tonight's class was on the anatomy of the head, face and neck. I looked in awe at the sphenoid bone of the face. I sat there thinking ," My dear Lord how profoundly creative you are. Everything you do, down to the smallest detail displays your mighty hand of wonder. Had I not come to this class I might have walked out an entire lifetime without knowing there is a beautiful butterfly right behind my eyes....How appropriate for my life and all of your children, how you want us to change and grow into this lovely thing of delicate flight, thank you for reminding me of your unfailing love.....you captivate me always."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-6207175077683879581?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/6207175077683879581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=6207175077683879581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/6207175077683879581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/6207175077683879581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/08/it-was-back-to-school-tonight-after-10.html' title=''/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-3478887938088224154</id><published>2008-08-25T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T20:20:02.217-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Tooth Gone!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;This time From Judah. He has been wiggling his little bottom tooth for weeks now since he saw Audrey's loot from her first fairy visit. Today the carrot did the trick and nearly knocked it out...he felt it coming loose and ran to the bathroom and pulled it the rest of the way! I was so proud of him! He was hooping for joy! I was too, because I am still a big Weenee!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-3478887938088224154?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3478887938088224154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=3478887938088224154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3478887938088224154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3478887938088224154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/08/another-tooth-gone.html' title='Another Tooth Gone!'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-8582400367190019033</id><published>2008-08-24T17:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T17:14:36.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Simplicity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I am finding the most wonderful meals are the ones where the food is as fresh as it can be and few ingredients.  Tonight's supper transported me back to childhood. A crock pot full of pinto beans that had soaked overnight and slowly cooked all day making their own gravy. Just a touch of bacon. Another pot of basmati brown rice to pour the beans and gravy over, fresh tomato's and sweet onions for the top and watermelon from the farmers market for just a little dessert afterwards.  We ate like royalty.I Wish you could have dined with us. Benjamin was a bean eating fanatic! I am so glad to get him started on wholesome things so early. Bless his heart...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-8582400367190019033?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/8582400367190019033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=8582400367190019033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8582400367190019033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/8582400367190019033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/08/simplicity.html' title='Simplicity'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-880754646064335026</id><published>2008-08-24T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T12:13:40.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Truer words ever spoken....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Had a pastor and dear friend once say during one of his sermons, " I've been rich and I 've been poor......Rich is better!" Then we all hooted with laughter. Oh my friend I would love to be on the Rich side right now! :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-880754646064335026?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/880754646064335026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=880754646064335026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/880754646064335026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/880754646064335026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/08/no-truer-words-ever-spoken.html' title='No Truer words ever spoken....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-4638043834245856974</id><published>2008-08-17T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T20:00:18.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Glorious day of wallering....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;We got in late last night after David's band preformed. I actually had to get home earlier as it was around 9:30 and Benjamin stays to a pretty strict bed time of 8pm. He was starting to be grumpy and exhausted so I ducked out with my three protesting kids. The older two didn't want to leave they were having a blast running up and down the enormous basketball court at the church facility playing and dancing to the worship music. But I knew they would not make it much longer so I quickly got them home and into bed. This morning Benjamin did not wake up until after 9 so I just lay in the bed and wallered. I don't get to do that often. I just love the bed. Cold clean sheets running over my toes and feet and the fan blowing soft breezes overhead. Audrey and Judah thundered downstairs  and would run in and out wanting this and that. Audrey has learned to write her name and is so proud of that fact. She kept asking me to spell things from the bed as she was trying to write a letter to her little friend who moved away a couple of years ago. I was barely awake as I mumbled the letters to her. She is so funny! Judah wanted to watch something and finally David got up to feed the baby and let me just lay a little more. What a gift. I have worked so hard this past 7 weeks my body feels like it is crashing. We five just spent the day goofing off. We didn't make it to church we were just too pooped. Truth be told I think we all need a sabbath rest away from church a lot more. There is so much work just getting there most of the time it is very wearying to the soul. I love just being with my family. I think I have seen the face of Jesus around my friends and family far more than I have at church anyway. Although I like going there too.&lt;br /&gt;I cut David and Judah's hair. I love Judah's curls so I gave him what David calls a Lyle Lovett cut. I said honey , Don't you call our boy Lyle Lovett! Hilarious! We watched several episodes of Mythbusters on Discovery channel. I really get sucked into that show. What a great job that would be. I cleaned just a little to get the house in some sembalance of working order. I have not had much opportunity to clean these days with school on top of my work load. Got some laundry done, Audrey and Judah now put their clothing away. I have three baskets for all the children. I just sort the clothing and then hand the older two their things and up they go to put things away. That really does help me. They are doing great with chores too. Judah keeps the trash taken out and the brings the cans to and from the road on trash day. Audrey feeds the dog and they both make their beds each morning and clean the room. I am so glad they are learning so early to help. I don't get bent out of shape when things aren't perfect. It encourages them to help more when I praise their efforts. Everyone took a nap this afternoon. Lovely thing a nap! Another thing that should happen more! I made Hay stacks for supper. Really just taco salad. But we call them haystacks. I made homemade salsa with tomatoes, cilantro, onion, hot peppers, hot sauce. Delicious! David and I gave all three kids a bath. I tucked sweet Benjamin in the bed blessed him and kissed his sweet head.  Then the older two and David and I sat downstairs and I told the kids a bedtime story the ongoing saga of Winky the Stinky Polar bear ! They love my stories. Then Judah made up a story and then Audrey. David and I just laugh at their creative minds. What a good day. I realized I have hardley seen TV these last weeks. I am kind of craving just watching movies. So I think that is what I will be doing next. Maybe something interesting on the SCI FI channel. David has gotten into Stargate recently. I have to say it is interesting. Wallering in good for the soul!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-4638043834245856974?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/4638043834245856974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=4638043834245856974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/4638043834245856974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/4638043834245856974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/08/glorious-day-of-wallering.html' title='Glorious day of wallering....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-5671068216021778107</id><published>2008-08-17T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T19:35:33.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drummer Boy....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;"&gt;Last night David played with his band Turning point at a motorcycle/car show rally for a local church. I cannot tell you how moved I am to see my husband play the drums. It is like watching fine art when he is up there swinging in perfect time. He was made to play. As wonderful as all the other musicians are I only have eyes for him. I am drawn to that passion he posesses for his instrument.  He is an incredible drummer. INCREDIBLE! I just pray one day he will be allowed to make a living doing what he does best. He has astounding skill writing music and lyrics, he hears parts of harmony that I only wish I could hear. He is very strong technically and can figure his way around any kind of recording equipment. His whole family seems to be gifted that way with computers, or anything technology based. There are many men that walk the earth but I could not have chosen better. No one turns my heart around like my drummer boy. No one drives me as crazy either! I love you sweet man!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-5671068216021778107?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/5671068216021778107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=5671068216021778107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/5671068216021778107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/5671068216021778107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/08/drummer-boy.html' title='Drummer Boy....'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-3401626166176045607</id><published>2008-08-16T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T11:33:34.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Touching the Spirit</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:130%;" &gt;Every new path Father has taken me down in my life time has grown me in ways I would not have foretold. When I became a mother for the first time I tapped into a deeper understanding of the sacrifice my parents gave to allow me to grow . I learned to love them in ways I never had before. I also realized a depth of God's love for humanity by giving birth to that helpless life; that literally wiped out my microscopic understanding I had before the experience of children. Now I have a solid glimpse at His love for me. I am his daughter, his baby girl. How could I ever question his love for me or his attention to my life and all it's details?&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago I took a pottery class that again opened my eyes to the hand of God. Every move with the finger tips and the grace and attention to shaping that lump of potential bound clay....I would travel home spellbound by the image of that spinning wheel in my mind and think about the instructors dance with the earth asking it to grow, not pushing it too far or the clay would crack and fall apart but coaxing it to move and change shape into what it would become. So like us with Father....he pushes us to change, sometimes we think we will crack under pressure, we feel the expansion of every fiber of our being under the weight of what He asks of us but trusting we walk toward the growth the change sometimes even fearful as humans are prone to be,but then at the end, the creation emerges lovely or plain but perfect because He has made us so..... Each pot very different and beautiful ....set for varied purposes in the house..... but all useful.......&lt;br /&gt;As I practice my sessions of Therapy....again something is downloaded into my soul. This compassion for humanity. Almost like Father is looking through my eyes and touch to the person laying before me vulnerable. There have been times in class when I would see the scars or the hurts of wounded ones and know His absolute love for that person. I touch a vessel but God touches their spirit.  I work with  beautiful hands and I see the perfectly shaped fingers, I see the sweet faces I picture them as children before the King of Glory how He cares for them. It is impossible to touch someone without touching their spirit. Knowing you are dealing with the same vessel that has carried them from birth to one day their death that houses the spirit . I find myself in this holy awe of a profession that would allow me such honor. Even I have been amazed at how deeply this season has affected me. One of my instructors said I would leave changed. Now I understand why.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-3401626166176045607?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/3401626166176045607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=3401626166176045607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3401626166176045607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/3401626166176045607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/08/touching-spirit.html' title='Touching the Spirit'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8001781112775157736.post-9195287820089240886</id><published>2008-08-15T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T10:25:41.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I have moved......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I had to move to a new blog due to some lewd ads on my online journal on zoomshare. Hopefully this journal will be clean and free of such blights !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8001781112775157736-9195287820089240886?l=storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/feeds/9195287820089240886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8001781112775157736&amp;postID=9195287820089240886' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/9195287820089240886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8001781112775157736/posts/default/9195287820089240886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://storiesfromonejourney.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-have-moved.html' title='I have moved......'/><author><name>Tanya Turner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03759937046251454535</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
