<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/rss2full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sat, 17 Mar 2012 14:39:41 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>moving</category><category>animals</category><category>Hobbes</category><category>Tucker</category><category>funny</category><category>outside</category><category>5 minute friday</category><category>grace</category><category>Pounce</category><category>Amazima</category><category>relationships</category><category>nothing</category><category>simple pleasure</category><category>showers</category><category>anxiety</category><category>job</category><category>cracking</category><category>Addie</category><category>give aways</category><category>family</category><category>license</category><category>video</category><category>team work</category><category>mom</category><category>Jesus</category><category>Walnut</category><category>bike ride</category><category>recipes</category><category>whining</category><category>touch</category><category>teaching</category><category>update</category><category>kids</category><category>prayer</category><category>car</category><category>salvation</category><category>Lexie</category><category>counseling</category><category>Hazelnut</category><category>mornings</category><category>vacation</category><category>dogs</category><category>God</category><category>faithfulness</category><category>son</category><category>music</category><category>school</category><category>faith</category><category>computers</category><category>life</category><category>playing</category><category>parents</category><category>misc.</category><category>RN</category><category>BFF</category><category>words</category><category>food</category><category>outdoors</category><category>the Other Nut</category><category>house</category><category>husband</category><category>dentist</category><category>sick</category><category>stories</category><category>blogging</category><category>love</category><category>rodeo</category><category>answer</category><category>struggling</category><category>cleaning</category><title>My Life is a Nutcase</title><description>Thank goodness Jesus is a Nutcracker</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>155</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/MyLifeIsANutcase" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="mylifeisanutcase" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0">MyLifeIsANutcase</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0">http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-6987164275925062784</guid><pubDate>Wed, 29 Feb 2012 19:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-02-29T13:16:10.690-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">moving</category><title>The Where's and the Why's</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I'm lonely here in the new city. I guess that is to be expected, but I didn't really know how it would feel-I've never moved away before. It's a different kind of loneliness. It is one that says "you have no friends here". And I actually do like my alone time-a lot in fact. But when you have no choice, because you can't call someone to meet for lunch, a different feeling sets in. I really miss my friends and family, but when you have such wonderful friends and family like I do, am I really surprised? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I feel lost, almost like I don't know what to do with myself. And I'm so blah that really I probably shouldn't be blogging, because I will probably just sound like I'm whining; but I'm going against my better judgment (because I don't have any "better judgment" right now anyways) and blogging.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Oh yeah, I almost forget why I even started this post (because of the whining). I was going to explain the where's and why's of my blogging sabbatical. Well, it all started with a class. You see, I had signed up to take a seminary class (something I had wanted to do for a long time), and then I started feeling like the Other Nut didn't really support me like I thought he did. Taking a class with 3 kids was definitely going to take the support of the whole family and so I dropped the class. And the dropping of the class, I realized how mad I was at the Other Nut-he was standing in the way of my dream. And my anger with him scared me. How could I be a good Bible teacher and hold such anger towards my husband if I felt he got in my way? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I immediately began to look at everything I was doing, blogging being one of them. I wanted my blog to be our story, not just mine, and he had started writing some posts from his perspective. But I was also spending a lot of time on my blog at night instead of with him. These two things combined just made me stop and pull back. I felt like I just needed to be willing to give it up without getting so angry at the Other Nut. So I just released it and didn't even really read other blogs. I went on a major blogging fast if you will. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;And then life threw a curve ball, and I didn't even have time to blog or read. Right after this, I even began to feel like God wanted me to even stop teaching to our women at church. This one I couldn't understand at all. This was my one passion and why I wanted to take classes. I was (and still am) truly confused, but then it all became clear to me when I realized we were moving. And if you have ever moved, especially in the middle of the school year with 3 kids, you know that life becomes crazy during this time. All of my time was devoted to the whole animal called moving. I'm still waiting for this animal to take a hike.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Now during this time, I blocked my blog for a while. No one could get to it. I wasn't blogging anyways so I figured "why not". But the real reason was that something had happened that made the Other Nut and I feel like we had to look over our shoulder everyday. It was a strange feeling. I'm sure the stress of moving didn't help. I began to feel like I had this great need to protect my privacy and family,and I didn't want anything available to the public. I'm sure it was slightly irrational, but like I said, I wasn't blogging anyways, so I just turned it off. Things have blown over with this situation, and we don't live in the same city anyways so I figured it was safe to blog again-well unless I keep blogging under my current emotional and mental conditions&amp;nbsp;(and since I don't see them completely changing immediately, blogging might be dangerous). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Well, there you&amp;nbsp;have it-the fascinating where's and why's. I'll close for now, but I'll post again about the whole&amp;nbsp;moving to a new city thing. And I'll try not to sound whiny, try being the operative word. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-6987164275925062784?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2012/02/wheres-and-whys.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-2535483164404132710</guid><pubDate>Fri, 10 Feb 2012 06:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-02-10T00:49:06.920-06:00</atom:updated><title>prayer needed</title><description>please pray for my son aidan. he hit his head and has a concussion. we are in our new city so we don't know anyone right here. he is doing OK but please keep praying that there will be no more problems. also in the process of running for the phone i slipped and broke my finger. please pray for peace and healing. we are scared and feel alone here. i'm ready to go back home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-2535483164404132710?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2012/02/prayer-needed.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-7456418677705196301</guid><pubDate>Fri, 03 Feb 2012 03:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-02-02T21:32:46.581-06:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">moving</category><title>So It's Been A While</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;So it's been a while-almost 6 months in fact. I actually wondered if I forgot how to post something. I will probably start blogging again, although not sure how frequently as many changes are happening in my life. I want to start blogging again as I think I need it, especially right now. I do miss the blogging friends I had made while I was blogging regularly. I will eventually write about why I stepped back from blogging, but for now I would greatly appreciate your prayers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;because in 6 days we are moving.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;I am moving from a city I have known for 37 years where all of my family and dearest of friends are to a city where I know not a soul. I feel all sorts of emotions, but some of them I haven't let myself feel fully. I'm afraid I won't be able to breathe. It all seems so surreal, and as the days count down, the weight is heavy. There are so many unknowns, and at times, I feel like a stranger in my own skin. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;The Other Nut has already been living there for 3 months. He has been coming home on the weekends which is nice, but it's getting old. It isn't the best marriage builder in the world that's for sure. I don't want to give the wrong impression with that statement-we are doing fine and looking forward to being a family again. It's just that recently I have realized that we aren't as connected. I kind of feel like I don't know him as well right now which I think is normal because of the distance. He's doing his thing up there during the week, while I'm trying to do mine here. We haven't had any dates for&amp;nbsp;a while and talking on the phone just isn't the same. Plus, I think we both feel so disjointed, like we are living a dream that we are just treading water right now. This process of moving has been so busy with many ups and downs that I think we are just so ready for it to&amp;nbsp;be over. And yet, at the same time, we don't want it to end, because that means separation from so many people that we love so dearly. It's a strange place to be. There will be more blogging about this process, this total change in our lives, as I have so many feelings and thoughts about this journey.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;But for now, I ask for prayers. Our roots run deep here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Many blessings,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Ima&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-7456418677705196301?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2012/02/so-its-been-while.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-5006736408173538626</guid><pubDate>Fri, 19 Aug 2011 17:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-19T12:05:06.218-05:00</atom:updated><title>Psalm 16:5</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;"I know of no greater simplifier for all of life. Whatever happens is assigned. Does the intellect balk at that? Can we say that there are things that happen to us that do not belong to our lovingly assigned "portion" ("This belongs to it, that does not")? Are some things, then, out of the control of the Almighty? Every assignment is measured and controlled for my eternal good. As I accept the given portion other options are canceled. Decisions become much easier, directions clearer, and hence my heart becomes inexpressibly quieter. A quiet heart is content with what God gives."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;Elisabeth Elliot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-5006736408173538626?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/psalm-165.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-587450394400635523</guid><pubDate>Wed, 17 Aug 2011 17:01:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-17T12:05:27.294-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><title>Letting Go of A Dream</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Have you ever had to let go of a dream? I'm sure you have, because I'm sure that is just part of life, this letting go of dreams. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;I've had to let go of several, none really major, but there was still that letting go process I had to do, that wrestling with if I thought it was fair or not. And usually I determined that it was not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;But like people say-life isn't fair is it? Or maybe the one your mom said to you is, "the fair only comes to town once a year." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;Knowing that life isn't fair doesn't make it any easier though, letting go of something that you have dreamed of for a while. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;I know, because right now I'm having to let go of a dream I have had for many years, a dream I thought I would get to live out. I wanted to live it out. In fact, I was so excited I couldn't wait.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;But I guess I will wait. Maybe the timing was all wrong, and I thought it was all right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;I'm sad today. A little bit frustrated and angry. I'm trying to let it go, this dream of mine, but my fingers sure don't want to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;I still have questions. Will I ever get to live out my dream? Are there other parts of my dream that I need to let go, that I won't really live out? And maybe I was all wrong in thinking that this dream was for me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;How I wish I could go back to sleep and dream this dream. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;What about you? What dreams have you had to let go? Do you still dream them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-587450394400635523?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/letting-go-of-dream.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-6869646311137650692</guid><pubDate>Tue, 16 Aug 2011 01:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-18T16:17:34.193-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">the Other Nut</category><title>Reaping the Whirlwind-by the Other Nut, part 2</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Looking back, no one ever talked to me about pornography – other than a passing comment about how sinful it was. No one ever talked to me about what to do with &lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;all those raging hormones in the teen years. No one ever talked to me about growing up to be a man, what that looked like, what it was not. So I learned from Indiana Jones. Remember him? Indy. Rugged. Independent&lt;/span&gt;. Whip in hand. From him I learned to keep unsure thoughts and feelings inside because an adventurous loner was admired by both men and women. Other role models came from Animal House, Revenge of the Nerds, and Porky’s. From them I learned that real men can’t control themselves, they chase women, women want men to chase them, and real fun was seeing women naked. Another great role model for me was James Bond - the Roger Moore one. Now he was real slick. Women just threw themselves at him in a never ending stream of sexual liaisons. And why? Because he was handsome, drove cool cars, had grand adventures, and never showed any emotion like fear, regret, or loneliness. And what was the common thread of all these movies? Men portrayed in unhealthy lifestyles with no consequences…No consequences. Let me say it again. They…never…suffered…consequences.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I don’t recall exactly how I began looking at internet pornography about 6 weeks before May 15&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;, 2008 – what I now call D-day. I do recall the random thoughts that began popping into my head. I remember thinking that I had heard that pornography was so easy to get to on the internet but I had never been tempted to look – until now. It started as a curiosity. “Just click on this here. Do they really make it that easy?” Yes, they do. And then you click away real quick because of the shock – O my gosh, did that just happen? But that image - it gets stored in that special part of the brain right alongside the magazine from 30 years ago. I hate that. And the enemy goes for the kill – the tornado hits. My walls are down, I have no close male friendships, I was far away from God relationally, and I’m alone. Worst place to be. You know when the cheetah gets the gazelle separated from the herd…you know what’s coming…death. Awash in shame, then repeat.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Fast forward to D-day. A day I will never forget as long as I live. That’s the day I learned I wasn’t like the role models. Fortunately (though painfully) consequences hit me square in the face like a 2x4. God, in his severe mercy, broke in that May 15&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; day through a feisty brunette named Ima. First, the phone call from her while I was at work. The knotting stomach, the mind searching for a place to hide – no place to hide…she knew. Deny. Deny. Deny. Think…think. Cover it up. Play it off. She hung up. O God, what have I done? Is this for real? What have I done? I know now a thimbleful of what Adam and Eve felt falling from perfect relationship with God, “Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked…and they hid…” I blew it. I had to make it right. I left work and headed home unsure of what would happen but knowing I had to face the music.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Thank God for Ima. She refused to cover for me when she discovered my lie. She refused to hide what happened. She refused to be a crutch for me. She screamed from the rooftops “No! Not in my marriage!” She took a hammer to the computer and a hammer to the trust we had built. Some people may say that she was wrong to do that. That she should have accepted that looking at pornography wasn’t that bad – “it’s not like it was a real person.” Or kept it between us to show me respect – “being submissive means letting God deal with him, not you.” Or maybe just accepted that this was the way guys are wired – “guys are just visual so deal with it.” blah blah blah. I’m here to tell you that pornography is straight from the pit of hell. It’s dark, deep, addictive, and like drugs, it won’t let go. I’m here to tell you that I needed that wallop. That wallop was the first dose of reality I had. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;And without it – let’s just not go there. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Thanks to Ima calling me on the carpet I turned around and began the chore of climbing back out of this hole - a really hard path – a hole I had been digging my whole life. I had betrayed my wife, my kids, and my God. I had totally blown it. The trifecta of screwing up. I considered crawling away into a hole. Giving up. Confirming to Ima that I was as low-down dirty as she thought I was. But something in me wouldn’t let go of my marriage vow. I vowed through thick and thin, rich or poor, sickness or health. It’s hard to explain, but the truth is that just because I broke the vow didn’t mean the vow was broken. I suppose that’s because it’s a vow before God. And He wasn’t letting go. So neither was I. It was my fault, but that just meant I had to clean up my mess. I chose to fight. Fight for my marriage. Fight for my relationship with God. Fight for a future for my kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Linking up with Jen at &lt;a href="http://findingheaventoday.blogspot.com/2011/08/emptiness-soli-deo-gloria-gathering.html"&gt;Finding Heaven&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Linking up with Emily at &lt;a href="http://canvaschild.blogspot.com/"&gt;Imperfect Prose&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-6869646311137650692?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/reaping-whirlwind-by-other-nut-part-2.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>15</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-3989695133326800786</guid><pubDate>Tue, 16 Aug 2011 00:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-15T20:41:38.129-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">cracking</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Jesus</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">grace</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">faith</category><title>Lay Yourself Low</title><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h2APVxqBUh8/Ta8dBhTLslI/AAAAAAAAAKo/G8kPAucpbLQ/s1600/cross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h2APVxqBUh8/Ta8dBhTLslI/AAAAAAAAAKo/G8kPAucpbLQ/s1600/cross.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;You woke up in&amp;nbsp;a foul mood yesterday and today, and I really don't like it when you do that. You spew forth your little snippy comments to everyone, because quite frankly, you are sick of people. I know, because I know you. I know you are a loner by nature, that you crave the quietness of the day and night. I know that, if you had your choice, most things you would do by yourself. And its hard when you go long stretches without this quiet, this aloneness so the tension in you rises and explodes out to people around you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But even though I understand, I don't like when you do it. It doesn't sound nice or loving. It doesn't sound like Jesus to me, and it actually makes me cringe a little. You told my kids that they were slobs, too messy to clean up their room properly and that you were tired of finding things just everywhere. You barked orders at them, and I'm 100% certain that it hurt them. I don't like it&amp;nbsp;when you hurt my kids. It's times like these that really you shouldn't even talk at all, unless, of course, you want to talk to Jesus. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I know that yesterday you felt weak in the "I feel beautiful" arena of your mind. I saw the look on your face when you went to change for church, the disgust that crept onto your face. I know this is tiring, fighting this at times. It makes your patience thin as your mood darkens a bit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know you enjoy time in your house, time where you don't have to go anywhere, time where you can just clean and listen to music; but sometimes you don't get that and it drains you. Staying at home refreshes you. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And when your house is messy, your mind feels messy. Organized surroundings make your brain feel more calm. I get that. Really, I do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can see you fighting though. I can see that you don't like it either. That battle between using your words to lift up and not tear down. I saw it in you at church yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You rode there in a foul mood, but&amp;nbsp;annoyed at yourself at the same time. You took your seat inside the church, and the music started playing. 3 seats over was a man fighting for his life. 2 weeks ago they didn't think he would make it, and now here he was, standing up singing "The Stand". At times, he would have to sit down, but then with renewed strength, he would stand again. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I saw you realize the pettiness of your frustrations and annoyances. Earlier you didn’t feel so pretty on the outside when you looked in the mirror. And now you saw the ugliness in your heart as you looked in the mirror of your heart. The ugliness that causes your peace to be determined by your surroundings instead of allowing Jesus to be your peace at all times. It is this ugliness that causes your words to tear down and not encourage, your frustrations to determine your tone and words. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;And in this realization, you were singing, finding your way to the Cross.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;“So I’ll stand, with arms high and heart abandoned, in awe of the One who gave it all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So I’ll stand, my soul Lord to You surrendered, all I am is Yours.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;And I know you meant it, but then you got home, and your foul mood returned pretty quickly. It was as if you forgot this process of surrender, this being at the foot of the Cross and the realization of your ugliness; for your ugliness was back. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The only thing your arms wanted to do were be stiff with clinched fists on the end. And your heart? Well, it surrendered to reckless words; for the mouth often shows what’s in the heart.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know you were disappointed. I watched you trying to go back to that place, that place of surrender, to the Cross. And when you wouldn’t make it, I saw you get back up and try again. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As much as I don’t appreciate you hurting the ones that I love with your nasty words, and your lack of patience, your actions that don’t show Jesus to them, I’m proud of you for trying again and again, for trying to claw your way&amp;nbsp; back to the place you know you need to be. I’m proud of you for knowing that, left to your own strength, you would never find your way back to this surrender, because your ugliness really is deep, your sin encased around you tightly forming your nutcase. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I’m here to tell you that you will make it back to that place. I’ve seen you do it before. I’ve seen you make it back to the Cross, that place of surrender and praise. That place where Jesus loved you with a love like no other, that place that covers your mess-ups with grace. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lay low yourself there, at the Cross; for it is because of this place that you can even have anything good in your life, in your heart. Lay low and surrender. Allow Jesus to do what only He can do there. I can’t wait to hear about it, this cracking of your nutcase that wraps itself around you. I can’t wait to see what is under there, the beauty that will emerge in this laying low of self. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Linking up with Michelle at &lt;a href="http://nebraskagraceful.blogspot.com/2011/08/hear-it-on-sunday-use-it-on-monday.html"&gt;Graceful&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-3989695133326800786?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/you-woke-up-in-foul-mood-yesterday-and.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h2APVxqBUh8/Ta8dBhTLslI/AAAAAAAAAKo/G8kPAucpbLQ/s72-c/cross.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-7565590706771683680</guid><pubDate>Sat, 13 Aug 2011 05:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-13T00:13:12.455-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Walnut</category><title>I Think I Missed It</title><description>&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yGayChBs-Qs/TkYGs_K5PYI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/AtW4eICMrm4/s1600/teaching.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yGayChBs-Qs/TkYGs_K5PYI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/AtW4eICMrm4/s200/teaching.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://christiano/"&gt;photo source&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I don't know if I did the right&amp;nbsp;thing today. You know those times that you realize that maybe you missed a great teaching opportunity? &lt;strong&gt;Well, today I wonder if I missed it. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;You see, I needed to go to Target and get some gluten free cake mix (which they didn't have), and a new broom ( which they did have). The Walnut asked if he could take some of his money and buy 2 new Ninjago toys which I have to say, I still don't know how I feel about these toys. But that's not the point of my story so I digress. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Anyways, I said, "Yes, sure," as long as he has enough and doesn't get into his savings. So off we go, me, Hazelnut, and the Walnut with $22 in his hands. He is so excited, he can hardly wait. We get our things and head to the check-out lane. I pay for my things, and then he hands his 2 new toys to the lady at the register. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;"That will be $22.17 please."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;"Oh. I only have $22."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And this is where I think I missed it&lt;/strong&gt;. I knew he had 17 cents at home to pay me back, and so I handed him 17 cents to cover the cost. And he walked out with 2 new toys, and no really good tangible life lesson. I realized it immediately so we talked about it on the way out. I asked him what he would have done if I wasn't there, because one day I won't be there to give him 17 cents. One day I won't be there to give him anything&amp;nbsp;except&amp;nbsp;the things I taught him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;It took him a while, but he finally got it. He said that he would have to put one back.&amp;nbsp; And then he asked if he could have them hold one until he could come back with more money. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;"But what if you didn't have any more money at home?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;"Well, I couldn't get it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;"And so you would have to put one back and not get it at all right?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;"Right."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;But I just don't know if he really got it by just a conversation. I think he would have learned more if I hadn't given him that 17 cents, made him put one back, and then wait until we could return.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;I think I missed it today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What about you? Would you have given the 17 cents?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-7565590706771683680?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/photo-source-i-dont-know-if-i-did-right.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yGayChBs-Qs/TkYGs_K5PYI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/AtW4eICMrm4/s72-c/teaching.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-8858392949053871819</guid><pubDate>Tue, 09 Aug 2011 02:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-10T22:01:57.043-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">the Other Nut</category><title>Sowing the Wind-by the Other Nut</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;When I started my blog, I knew I would be telling my story about my marriage that survived pornography. I see it as a story that could have had an unhappy ending, but thanks to God, the ending is still being written, and I love every page of my story. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;But I also knew that it wasn't just my story to tell. It is God's story, and it is also the Other Nut's story. While I was dealing with the aftermath of the landmine of pornography, as well as other things in my life, the Other Nut was also dealing with his own issues surrounding the "whys" and the "how not to fall into pornography" again. Even though I felt like I had been blown to pieces and was left to pick up each little piece I found, trying to put myself back together again, the Other Nut was also putting himself back together again. Honestly, he was just as hurt as I was. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I never wanted this blog just to be my heart experience with pornography. I also desired that he would eventually share his heart. I wanted his voice to be heard, and our story to be told from the perspective of the one who fell into the trap of pornography-and became free from it's snares. I am so proud of him. I know this wasn't easy for him to do, but he did it, because he believes so strongly in talking about the dangers of pornography and how damaging it is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I will be posting a series of small posts that he has written, and I hope to have him write more. I do hope that his part of our story to restoration blesses you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Sowing the Wind&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;It may surprise you to know that pornography is a $14 billion business in the US. That was based on data from back in 2004. It’s probably double that now. It may also surprise you that 67% of men in their 20’s and 30’s regularly look at pornography – see the stats here. I have heard that those numbers are similar inside the church and that at least 30% of pastors have looked at pornography in the past year. This means that odds are, if you are a guy reading this, then you are probably looking at pornography. If you aren’t, then look around next time you go to church and say – he looks, he looks, he doesn’t. He looks, he looks, he doesn’t. What a staggering thought. I was one of those guys. This is my story. Sow the wind and reap the whirlwind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;My exposure to pornography started when I was about 10 years old. My friend and I found a magazine stashed in an old tire in the vacant lot-turned bike track in our neighborhood – most likely hidden by one of the older kids who constructed the makeshift race track from dirt and old tires. The images from 30 years ago are still there. Someone once told me that traumatic events are stored in a different part of your brain. This is why some things are easy to recall and other things are just fuzzy. Pornography gets stored in this place. I hate that. I knew looking was wrong. I became a Christian at 7. But it was interesting and what was the harm? I had no wife. I had no kids. I was 10.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I had various other exposures to pornography throughout my pre-teen and teen years. Bits of R-rated movies. Times that I was alone with cable tv. The time a friend stole his dad’s magazines and we looked at them in the homemade war trench we dug in an empty field. I distinctly remember knowing those times were wrong as well, but what was the harm? I had no wife. I had no kids. I was 16.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;College and early 20’s brought more exposure. However, unlike earlier ages, I now had money, freedom, and aloneness to stir the mind. While connected to many other Christian brothers, this part of my life remained a secret. “You’re the only one who struggles with this” were the satanic lies I bought into. A deep secret shame imbedded itself into my life. There was harm, but it was only me that was hurting, right? I had no wife. I had no kids. I was 21.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;My working life after college was my first major reaping of consequences. I now had money and lived in an apartment by myself. Unknown to anyone I visited pornographic stores, massage parlors, and nearly got involved with escort services. It was a dark time. The especially hypocritical thing about this time in my life was that I also hooked up with friends and we started an accountability group. We were pretty blunt with each other about temptation -- but accountability is only as good as your ability to be honest. And while I let those guys into some parts, the darkest parts remained hidden from them. I had no wife. I had no kids. I was 24&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I met my future wife in my mid-20’s. Once we moved past friendship and into dating we were very open with each other about our past. We had a tell-all evening where I told her about all the stuff I had seen and done including what I hadn’t told my accountability partners. We cried and fell more in love than ever through that. We had been totally honest. We loved each other. What else did we need? Looking back, we were so naïve. We should have dealt with it then. Unfortunately, we thought we had. Our marriage counselor didn’t bring up that issue, and we both bought into a lie, “once you are married, all this temptation will go away.” We thought that our cathartic experience that night sort-of washed all that bad stuff away. And that getting married would kill that part of my life. We got married. I now had a wife. I had no kids. I was 26 and clouds started building on the horizon while all was sunny overhead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Married life brought 3 kids into our life and a ton of new stresses I was not ready for. Bills, budgeting, mortgage, and maintaining our relationship with 3 kids. My career starting taking off. I was getting lots of positive press at work, being asked to represent the company at events, even being talked about for higher levels of management. All the while my relationship with God was decaying. I let “life” get between me and the Life. I let life get between me and solid male relationships. Despite all that, my relationship with Ima was great. We talked, dealt with issues, loved each other deeply. And she trusted every word I spoke. But I was living a lie and didn’t know it. I was corroding from the inside out. My walls were broken down. The weakness to pornography from all those years was exposed and I was oblivious, deluded into thinking that I could coast through life enjoying my wife, kids, and creature comforts. I had a wife. I had 3 kids. I was 36. And the storm clouds were advancing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://findingheaventoday.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://i960.photobucket.com/albums/ae88/jenfergie2000/BloggButton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://canvaschild.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oCqRXPb5k38/TFog1TFjaXI/AAAAAAAAAok/qhF-QKW8E6U/s1600/blog+button.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-8858392949053871819?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/sowing-wind-by-other-nut.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oCqRXPb5k38/TFog1TFjaXI/AAAAAAAAAok/qhF-QKW8E6U/s72-c/blog+button.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>30</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-6269334723123416642</guid><pubDate>Mon, 08 Aug 2011 04:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-08T12:03:16.604-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Hazelnut</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Jesus</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">God</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">faith</category><title>Hard Questions</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I wondered if they would come, the hard questions I mean. And they did. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;"Mom, why did God make me have this problem? I mean, He just doesn't seem like the type of person that would put me through this. But I do know that He has a purpose, I just don't know what it is. And also, mom. I know that He can heal me right now, but what if He doesn't? I guess I just don't know what my future holds, but I know He has a purpose."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;My little mommy heart was just rocking back and forth between sadness and joy. I don't want my little Hazelnut to have to worry about this for the rest of her life. But I also want her to wrestle with these hard questions to grow her faith. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do we ever stop wrestling with these questions?&lt;/strong&gt; The "why" questions, because really often times we don't understand the bigger picture, the God-plan for our lives. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;And I'm thankful for my little 10 year old's faith, and my heart poured forth joy and thanksgiving as I watched her take communion this morning at church, as I watched all of my children take communion. There is nothing better than watching your kids eat of the bread and drink of the cup, knowing that they love Jesus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;And the little Hazelnut couldn't wait to get there this morning and partake, because&lt;strong&gt; "it's so important."&lt;/strong&gt; Last night she danced around the kitchen, simply excited for church in the morning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;She couldn't wait to see her friends, and as she said, &lt;strong&gt;"tell them about the power of God." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;While I walked away from the weekend in the hospital feeling traumatized, for lack of a better word, my little Hazelnut walked away with a deeper faith. I can see it. I can hear it in her words, in her constant awareness of God and His power around her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;"Mom, I&amp;nbsp;believe that God made that game&amp;nbsp;break so I could get my sister and brother a toy. If it hadn't broke, I wouldn't have been able to play an extra game and get more tickets. I think God did that for me, mom. He wanted me to&amp;nbsp;get them a toy, and so I did."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;"Mom, do you know that I prayed&amp;nbsp;God would help me find a good swimsuit, one that wasn't tacky. And do you know mom, that&amp;nbsp;we did find one."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;"Mom, I am. so. excited to go to church. Mom, I get to tell&amp;nbsp;people about the power of God in my life."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She could hardly get to sleep.&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;And I remembered my prayer a while back, a prayer that&amp;nbsp;asked God to&amp;nbsp;really show Himself to my little Hazelnut, that she&amp;nbsp;would really see Him and even now at a young age, begin to live passionately for Him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;With Bible in hand, and tithe too, off she went this morning to share about the power of God to a room full of her friends. It was her testimony of a big God that she really saw this weekend. And she didn't forget; His provisions and protection&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;bound to her heart forever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;May this be the start of a wonderful God-story of her life that honors God and lives passionately for Him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;May I cling to this truth of what He did for her and her faith this weekend when anxiety tries to take hold and steal this joyful truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;May I choose to see a faith that grew, and a little girl that really saw Jesus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you really seen Him? I mean, really seen Him for all that He is, and all that He does?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a border="0" href="http://nebraskagraceful.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab239/mderusha/UseitonMonday.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lauraboggess.com/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://anahnauwr.smugmug.com/photos/i-P9wn5Qq/0/O/i-P9wn5Qq.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-6269334723123416642?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/hard-questions.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>10</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-6002568824462334624</guid><pubDate>Sun, 07 Aug 2011 04:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-06T23:22:50.465-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">blogging</category><title>Redecorating</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;If you can't tell, I change my furniture around quite a bit. Having a blog is no different. I decided I wanted to change my background and such. The Other Nut says he hopes "redecorating" my blog will keep me from always wanting to redecorate the house. Should I tell him that I still want him to redo the hallway with beadboard and new paint?&amp;nbsp;Maybe not. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I still have some "redecorating" of the blog that I would like to do, namely my header. It's just that I'm not header savy. It took me a long time just to do the one I have currently. I won't change the name or the cute little nut, but I would like something different. I'm thinking I'm going to have someone else do it though, because like I said, this is as much as I can figure out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Any ideas? &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-6002568824462334624?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/if-you-cant-tell-i-change-my-furniture.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-1561767812107441843</guid><pubDate>Sat, 06 Aug 2011 17:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-07T21:22:42.869-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Jesus</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">grace</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">God</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">faith</category><title>At His Throne</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;"Oh Lord, Your Word says that we can approach your throne of Grace with confidence, and so I come to your throne in complete confidence in a time of need, and I'm so thankful for what Jesus did on the cross, because that's why I can even approach Your throne, an unholy person approaching a Holy God." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;These were the words that kept coming out of my mouth as I prayed over my little Hazelnut as she laid in the hospital bed, too sick to hold anything down and too&amp;nbsp;lethargic to try to eat again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;The guilt began to consume me, guilt that said that I had done this to her, because I had agreed to &lt;a href="http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/07/update.html"&gt;this test as a means of diagnosing her condition&lt;/a&gt;. It was a guilt that said I was hurting my own daughter, and I began to wonder if she even needed this dumb test.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;With the guilt came fear and anxiety. Fear that she wasn't going to pull out of this one. It was a fear that grew, because no one was listening to us, and we felt like we were fighting with the medical team to even hear us. As fear began to wrap itself tighter around my body, my panic grew, and I could physically feel it. My body began to shake as I felt helpless in this time of waiting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;So I did the only thing I knew to do-&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I went to His throne.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; And I sat. There was nothing else I could do. The glucose drip was finally running. &lt;a href="http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/he-answers-prayers.html"&gt;God had intervened&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp;All I could do was wait. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;So, &lt;strong&gt;knees bent and met a cold, hard hospital floor while arms rested on a blue cushion that would also be my bed. And in this moment, I was at His throne. &lt;/strong&gt;Eyes shut and walls faded away to the peace and majesty of a Mighty God's throne. His Word before me as my fingers stroked the pages, the same fingers that stroked little Hazelnut's hair. There's something about simply touching God's Word. With each stroke, the Word would pour out in prayerful pleas to hear my cry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;It was here and only here, at His throne, that I found peace and the shaking stopped. It was here that honest struggles of trusting God came forth from my lips. I wanted to trust Him with her, the very one that laid in the hospital bed sick, the one that I hold so tightly to; but, "it's hard," I said. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And He said, "I know, my child."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;"All I can do is sit here and wait. This waiting? It's hard, Lord."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"But in this waiting, you can sit at My throne, and you can pray. In this waiting, you can learn to trust more. And you can worship me in this waiting."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;So with knees still bent to cold floor, the majesty of His throne before me, I prayed, I wrestled with trust,&amp;nbsp;and I worshipped, hands held high to "How Great Is Our God".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So much happened in the waiting at His throne&lt;/strong&gt;. A throne that&amp;nbsp;I can approach with confidence, because of Jesus.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;And this throne of&amp;nbsp;the Mighty God? It's anywhere where knees are bent and hearts are turned to Him, even in the darkness of a hospital room with cold floors and blue cushioned beds. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wonder why I get lost on my way there so many times&lt;/strong&gt;. May I find my way back to His throne everyday, anxiety or no anxiety. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;May &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; also find your way back to His throne everyday. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://canvaschild.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oCqRXPb5k38/TFog1TFjaXI/AAAAAAAAAok/qhF-QKW8E6U/s1600/blog+button.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-1561767812107441843?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/at-his-throne.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oCqRXPb5k38/TFog1TFjaXI/AAAAAAAAAok/qhF-QKW8E6U/s72-c/blog+button.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-610409131086918125</guid><pubDate>Thu, 04 Aug 2011 22:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-04T22:57:08.160-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Hazelnut</category><title>Doctor Just Called</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;The doctor just called, and they think they might know what is causing these episodes in my little Hazelnut. They will do further blood testing on Wednesday the 10th. They are looking into something called "very long chain fatty acid disease" or VLCAD. It is DNA mutation so all family members will be tested. Please be praying for wisdom for the doctors, further healing, and answers. Pray for peace for me and the Other Nut. I am still tired from the stay at the hospital, mainly&amp;nbsp;emotionally, as I felt like&amp;nbsp;we had to fight for her treatments to get her well. Praise God that He ended up doing the fighting!&amp;nbsp;Thank you again for praying. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Update: Well, I did some research, because I'm always searching for more information. I'm a question asker. Probably shouldn't have done that as my anxiety is now climbing. If anyone out in blogland has experience with this disease, I would love to talk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-610409131086918125?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/doctor-just-called.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-8905919494662398045</guid><pubDate>Tue, 02 Aug 2011 20:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-03T20:56:36.795-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Hazelnut</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">update</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">sick</category><title>He Answers Prayers!</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;It is with great thankfulness and praise that I write this update. I am humbled by this blogging community and my church community that lifted up my family this weekend in prayer. I am forever grateful for my best friend that immediately took my other 2 children the whole time we were in the hospital so that both the Other Nut and I could be there for Hazelnut. I am forever grateful for my mom that came to the hospital at 2 a.m. to be with me when the Hazelnut got really sick, because sometimes, no matter how old, you just want your mommy. I am amazed at the outpouring of love on my family from people that only know us from blogland, and the excitement on Hazelnut's little face when I shared with her that people all over the world were praying for her. At first, she didn't understand how they would know until I reminded her of my blog and other bloggers I had met. I am&amp;nbsp;thankful&amp;nbsp;for the very specific answered prayers that we got to experience this weekend. Tears filled my eyes when I heard my little Hazelnut tell me that she could see God working and helping her through her time at the hospital.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;And so it is with great joy that I write this post, not only to update you on how she is doing, but to also share with you how God answered our prayers, and your prayers as you lifted us up to God. This is a post to stand as a reminder&amp;nbsp;of the faithfulness and power of our Mighty God. This is a post to say thank you from the Nutcase household. (This will probably be a long post, but God worked a lot this weekend, and I don't want to leave anything out.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;First, we are home and the little Hazelnut is back to her usual spunky little self. Praise God for that. She had a great night and woke up just fine this morning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;What the Hazelnut had to have was a forced fast, or a glucose challenge test. The main reason was to see a correlation between her sugar levels and her ketone levels. She never showed signs of hypoglycemia or diabetes, but would have episodes of dumping ketones which if too high can be damaging to the body. They were trying to figure out why she would dump ketones so easily, especially since she never had any evidence of low blood sugar. They figured if they could have her go into ketosis in the hospital, they could get all of the blood work done immediately to get accurate readings. Other times, we would have to drive 45 minutes, wait to get blood drawn for labs, and all the while I would be feeding her which would make the tests less accurate. The doctors really needed to see exactly what her blood sugar was doing at the exact moment she became ketotic. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;However, once she became ketotic, they still wanted to continue the fast forcing her body to a blood glucose level of 45 to see what other issues were there. I didn't completely understand their reason behind this since this didn't happen to her normally-it felt like it wouldn't be a natural situation for her so I didn't understand how that would give them accurate information as to her specific problem. The Other Nut and I didn't feel comfortable about this for numerous reasons and kept pushing for a good explanation from the doctors. They finally agreed to give her regular saline in her IV over night, running very slowly. That made me feel a little bit more comfortable, but not much more. Our concern was that while she slept again after going so long without food, her ketones would continue to rise without us knowing what effect they were having on her body.&amp;nbsp;At this point, they were only doing labs every 3 hours. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;We agreed to continue for a while, knowing that the Other Nut and I would be checking her ketone levels ourselves with our meter we brought from home. It is accurate and is only a finger prick, just like a glucometer. But, we also sent out a prayer request to many and prayed ourselves that God would intervene if needed. We weren't sure what the right thing to do was so we decided to let God decide. "Please, Lord, intervene if needed. Stop this test when needed."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;About 30 minutes later, the nurse walked in with the doctor and told us that Endocrinology had just called and decided to stop the test at midnight. The doctors didn't even know why they were stopping-they just decided to stop. It was currently 10:40 p.m. at this time. Praise God! Less than 2 hours to go. We knew God had intervened. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Labs were drawn at 11 p.m. and at midnight, they came in to draw the final labs and wake her up so she could eat. At this point, she all of a sudden was very hard to wake up and very lethargic-ketones can make you really sick when they get too high. I truly believe that if she had gone until 2 a.m. to have labs drawn, she would have been in great danger. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;After they tried to wake her up and get her to eat, I asked if they could please start an IV with glucose in it to at least start getting her some glucose in her system. She was so lethargic and didn't want to eat much. At first, the doctor said no, she just wanted her to eat regular food. I told her I wasn't sure if that would work, because she was already so sick. She again said no that we could just give her a few sips of sprite, and she could go back to sleep. Everything in me knew that wasn't a good thing, because we have seen her do this so many times. We have seen what works with her before to pull her out of an episode. We again quickly prayed that God would intervene. The doctor came back and said that she would give her an IV with glucose, but she wanted her to still eat and drink. She would only put the IV at what they call half-maintenance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;They started the IV, and we gave her some sips of sprite and a little bit of food. Within 15 minutes, she was vomiting and very tired and pale. She vomited again 2 more times in about 20 minutes. We knew she wouldn't be able to keep anything down until her ketones dropped to a certain level. Again, we had seen it too many times. They gave her some medicine, and we had about 4 nurses in the room working on her with the doctor near by. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I asked the nurse if they could please switch the order to full maintenance on her IV since she obviously wasn't able to eat, and she just wanted to sleep because of the exhaustion and lethargy from the ketones. She said no, that this is what the doctor had ordered, that she didn't even think she even needed it, and was just doing it to make us happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;The Other Nut and I took her levels with our own meter, and her ketones were 3.7-a positive ketone reading is considered 0.6 or above! So we did the only thing we knew to do at that time-we immediately prayed that God would give her the fluids she needed. About an hour later, she nurse walked back in and said the endocrine team had called and decided to up her fluids to full maintenance. Again, no one could say why they did that. Even the doctors that decided it-they just said "why not". Once again, God had intervened in only a way that He can. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;The Other Nut and I started taking her readings and slowly they began to come down. With every reading we would just say "Thank you Jesus!" We began writing it on the white board in her room just to see it. With glucose running, she was sleeping good, and her levels were going down. She had stopped throwing up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;When she woke up in the morning, her levels were 1.9. They weren't moving any lower, but she was at a place that she could at least try to eat. She slowly began eating, and God answered another prayer-she held down all of her food and drink. We also sent out a prayer that her levels would go down to normal. We wanted to see them below 0.4. The very next reading we took after sending out this prayer, we got a reading of 0.3! Again, we just said "thank you Jesus"!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;One other prayer that God answered is one that I am just so thankful for. When we prayed over her after my mom got there, my mom prayed that the little Hazelnut would know and remember what God would do tonight. After we got home and shared everything with her and the other kids, she told me that she could see that God was working through her time with ketosis. Praise Jesus for her seeing God work in her life. May she remember it as a time of His faithfulness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;We don't have any results yet, and I'm not sure when we will hear anything. But I do know that God heard your prayers, and I'm so thankful for that. I know the Hazelnut is too-she told me so. So thank you for standing in the gap for us, for going before a Mighty God on our behalf. May this post bless you with the reminder of the God we serve. May you today give Him thanks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FEtob8Q5bcQ/TjhmW7S8WeI/AAAAAAAAASE/W1G77OvTqds/s1600/hospital+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FEtob8Q5bcQ/TjhmW7S8WeI/AAAAAAAAASE/W1G77OvTqds/s400/hospital+004.JPG" t$="true" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;We took a picture of the board where we wrote down the levels as they were going down. What a great reminder!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://findingheaventoday.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://i960.photobucket.com/albums/ae88/jenfergie2000/BloggButton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lauraboggess.com/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://anahnauwr.smugmug.com/photos/i-P9wn5Qq/0/O/i-P9wn5Qq.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-8905919494662398045?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/he-answers-prayers.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FEtob8Q5bcQ/TjhmW7S8WeI/AAAAAAAAASE/W1G77OvTqds/s72-c/hospital+004.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>12</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-6241527382805230086</guid><pubDate>Mon, 01 Aug 2011 14:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-01T09:10:47.233-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Hazelnut</category><title>Quick Update</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I don't have the time or energy to do a really detailed update so this will be quick. Please keep praying. Last night was very rough. My little Hazelnut got really sick from the ketones. It was a scary night that drove me to my knees for a long time. Please pray for her to have energy and her ketones to go down. We really need them to go down to normal. She needs to be able to keep food down as she threw up 3 times last night. Please keep praying-hopefully I will update with more detail later. Too tired right now and scared and anxious. Thanks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-6241527382805230086?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/08/quick-update.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-1579478335767833326</guid><pubDate>Mon, 01 Aug 2011 03:01:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-07-31T22:01:23.770-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Hazelnut</category><title>Update</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Room 717 is growing on us. I am so thankful for such a nice hospital as so many families have to be here for extended periods of time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;We are still here and will be here for at least another night. I thought the tests were over and the fast could stop, but I was wrong. They want her blood sugar to drop to 45-last time they checked, it was around 81. This could&amp;nbsp;possibly take up to 3 days. Not the news I wanted to hear. I thought about busting out of this joint. But then I decided not to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;The little Hazelnut is a bit upset, because she just wants to eat, but she can't. She is going on 24 hours now. Below I have some specific prayer requests that I would be so thankful if you were to pray for her. Thank you for already praying for us-I can tell that you are praying. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;First, a praise-whatever she has is a mild case. While it is a mystery to the doctors, it is a mild case and for that I am thankful. I'm t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;hankful for medical care that we have and a great hospital. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Prayers-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;-She is currently in ketosis right now. Please pray for her little body to be spared from the normal side effects of this-the ketones usually make her pretty sick and lethargic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;-They are trying to get her to go hypoglycemic so that means even a longer fast. She is very hungry right now and just blah. Please pray that her blood sugar would dip low enough to draw some more labs while also protecting her body from harm. Once that happens, they can immediately draw the labs and start bringing her sugar up. They want her sugar to get to 45 depending on her symptoms. Pray they can get what they need with minimal effects to her body and that we will notice any symptoms&amp;nbsp;that&amp;nbsp;might come up.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;-Pray for wisdom for the doctors to find the issue to better treat her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;-When her sugar drops, I am expecting her ketones to rise. Please pray against this, but with them still being able to get the labs they need. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;-Please pray for my anxiety that I will hand it over to God and have His peace. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;-Since I have been writing this email, we have had some tense moments over whether or not to continue this test. Please pray for wisdom on this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;-Pray that we will be a good witness for Jesus, that we will be gracious even in these tense situations. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Sorry for the long list, but we need them now. Thank you to everyone who is praying. I am humbled that you would pray for my sweet daughter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Leaving you with a picture that shows that she is ready to get out of here and eat!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-crIKUF-cSqE/TjYW0rIWUxI/AAAAAAAAASA/jnLE4iQQocg/s1600/hospital+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-crIKUF-cSqE/TjYW0rIWUxI/AAAAAAAAASA/jnLE4iQQocg/s400/hospital+003.JPG" t$="true" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&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/1705682732968515495-1579478335767833326?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/07/update.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-crIKUF-cSqE/TjYW0rIWUxI/AAAAAAAAASA/jnLE4iQQocg/s72-c/hospital+003.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>8</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-5696688440836177025</guid><pubDate>Sun, 31 Jul 2011 07:35:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-08-01T21:01:48.127-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Hazelnut</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Jesus</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">anxiety</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">faith</category><title>I Hate Anxiety</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I hate anxiety. It keeps me awake. All these beeps going off make me jump everytime. Have I mentioned that I don't like monitors? Her heart monitor just went off, because her rate went below 60, but she was sleeping. I wonder how many times it does that at home, but we don't have a monitor. My heart rate goes into the 40's when I sleep, and my cardiologist thinks that is wonderful. I wonder if that is why I don't get up very well in the morning-my heart has to pick up speed after slowing down so much. Kidding! Sort of :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;But give me some beeping monitors, and my heart rate is probably at 140. Pitiful, I know, but it just is. I used to be such an adventurous kid, never worried about much of anything. And I had my fair share of the hospital. I was a tomboy so I was always getting hurt. I got hurt so often that the CPS started questioning my parents. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I often wonder what happened to that adventurous little girl. It is just a matter of she grew up and became a mommy? Was it nursing school that sealed the deal? How much is my Lyme disease connected with my anxiety? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;And then I think about my faith. Is my faith really this weak? Is that the whole issue surrounding my panic disorder? I know it has some to do with that; my anxiety connected to a lack of faith. My anxiety pretty much centers around medical issues, especially with my children. I still get it with myself and the Other Nut, but it is more intense with my children. I just have a great fear of losing any of my children. It seems completely unnatural for a parent to lose a child, and yet it happens everyday. My heart aches when I hear about a mommy losing her child. It has become my worst fear, and at times like this, that fear beats me up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I wonder what it does to Jesus' reputation. What does my anxiety say about Him? Does it say that He can't handle everything? Does it say that really His plan isn't the best? Because, to be honest, I have a hard time reconciling in my head that losing a child is the best plan for anyone. Sometimes I read a blog about this very thing, and sit with so many questions that I can't ever answer. I don't understand it at all. But through reading these blogs, I am always amazed at the faith that is woven throughout, the total trust in Jesus, and the ability to still say that God is good. It is a faith that amazes me, and one that I wonder if I have. As I sit here with anxiety, I think I know the answer, and it pains me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Don't get me wrong; I'm&amp;nbsp;pretty sure&amp;nbsp;these mommy's would never choose that path. I hope I'm not speaking out of line, because I know I have never walked that path. I'm speaking from a mommy's heart in saying that. But, I do&amp;nbsp;think that even though they would never choose that path, they have walked it well, and that Jesus has been praised through their journey. You can't read their words and not be changed and humbled at their faith. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I think about Abraham, and his faith as he was prepared to sacrifice his only son, the son he had waited so long for. To be honest, as a mommy, I don't understand that amount of faith; a faith that obviously knew that no matter what, God was good; a faith that knew that God would somehow provide, somehow come through; a faith that lead to an obedience that most parent's probably can't quite grasp. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I want that type of faith. Or do I? To get that type of faith, what am I willing to sacrifice? What am I willing to lay down on the altar? Am I willing to walk any road that Jesus has for me, a road that would build that type of faith, bringing me that much closer to being like Him? Right now, sitting in a hospital with my little Hazelnut, I'm not sure I am if it involves my children. Have I mentioned that I hate anxiety? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-5696688440836177025?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-hate-anxiety.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-698156322007564830</guid><pubDate>Sun, 31 Jul 2011 03:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-07-30T22:59:00.686-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Hazelnut</category><title>Room 717</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Well, we are settled in for the night, and the Hazelnut is watching a movie. She has an IV and did great when they started it. The plan is to check her glucose and ketones every 3 hours. When they get to a certain level, they will draw some blood to run some tests. I'm not sure how long we will be here, but that's OK. I just want her to do&amp;nbsp;fine and not get too symptomatic&amp;nbsp;and hopefully get some answers. The doctors say she is an interesting case. The medical side of me understands that. The mommy side of me doesn't like that :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;Anxiety wise, I'm doing OK. She is on monitors, and I have this love/hate relationship with monitors-and it is more on the side of hate. I don't know how I made it through nursing school-the sound of the beeping always makes me nervous. And my favorite rotation was ICU-imagine that! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;And now for a couple of pictures of my little Hazelnut. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aqTIfk3YuiI/TjTR6Bz6X6I/AAAAAAAAAR4/Om53ep9BQMM/s1600/dolls+and+hospital+031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aqTIfk3YuiI/TjTR6Bz6X6I/AAAAAAAAAR4/Om53ep9BQMM/s400/dolls+and+hospital+031.JPG" t$="true" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6lG4PqUnyWw/TjTSQA3W4bI/AAAAAAAAAR8/jUo9dMjyEm8/s1600/dolls+and+hospital+033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6lG4PqUnyWw/TjTSQA3W4bI/AAAAAAAAAR8/jUo9dMjyEm8/s400/dolls+and+hospital+033.JPG" t$="true" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;As you can see, she is obviously feeling great so far. She is such a silly little thing! I will update later if I have time. So far, I haven't had as much time as I thought. Not sure if I will be able to catch up with blogging and commenting&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-698156322007564830?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/07/room-717.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aqTIfk3YuiI/TjTR6Bz6X6I/AAAAAAAAAR4/Om53ep9BQMM/s72-c/dolls+and+hospital+031.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-8649066220839444336</guid><pubDate>Fri, 29 Jul 2011 20:54:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-07-29T15:54:30.676-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">kids</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Hazelnut</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><title>My Little Hazelnut</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Well, my little Hazelnut's first set of tests came back completely normal so we are praising God for that. They have scheduled her forced fast for Saturday night into Sunday. We will be there until she has an episode. I will keep everyone posted and blog from there to keep me busy. Maybe I will catch up on my blogging and commenting. :) Thank you all for praying. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;As far as the Nutcase goes, I at least stopped bleeding (sorry if that is TMI). My hair is still falling out, and I still sweat like&amp;nbsp;a pig. Why do we say that anyways? Pigs don't even sweat that great, and I sweat a lot. But, I digress. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Anyways, some things are better right now and some things aren't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;But, hey, my fingernails have never looked better. Imagine that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-8649066220839444336?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/07/my-little-hazelnut.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-2379885022706749641</guid><pubDate>Wed, 27 Jul 2011 15:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-07-27T11:13:17.864-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Jesus</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">grace</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">faith</category><title>In The Quiet</title><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FZz9FDf_zYY/TjAzy_HBnFI/AAAAAAAAAPA/CqnnD1JcAkA/s1600/Bee%2527s+birthday2011+078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="327" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FZz9FDf_zYY/TjAzy_HBnFI/AAAAAAAAAPA/CqnnD1JcAkA/s400/Bee%2527s+birthday2011+078.JPG" t$="true" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;It's quiet in my house with only the sound of a dog snoring and a cat purring. My eyes are tired, contacts stinging. Not sure why I don't just take them out and put on my glasses. I'm sitting in a chair missing the Other Nut and Peanut. They are away on a mission trip together creating wonderful memories together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I've been a little absent lately. Just kind of blah I guess. The doctor called one day. Judy Moody is a little frustrated, OK she was a lot frustrated, and the Weeping Willow just wanted to cry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;"Your hormones look great. I really don't understand why you are having these symptoms. Everything looks great." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;For. Real. How can a woman bleed for 2 weeks, stop for 2 weeks, bleed for 2 more, and continue this pattern for 7 months, and everything be fine? How can one wake up completely drenched in sweat and everything be fine? How can my hair be falling out in hand fulls and everything be fine? Oh Judy Moody wanted to scream. No answers, plus bleeding and cramps, can leave a woman feeling a little discouraged and grumpy. And then the Weeping Willow shows up and cries. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;So back to the drawing board as to what is going on. After some research and talking with my endocrinologist, I will take my results to my Lyme doctor. We are thinking that maybe that is the cause. All of my symptoms are seen in Lyme patients as well. Praying this Lyme clears up. I am now considered chronic, going on 2 years this August. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Trying to be thankful that my case, although chronic, is still considered somewhat mild from what I read others going through. Trying to be thankful that things "look great" with my hormones, and that I'm not anemic, but having a hard time, because quite frankly, I'm tired of bleeding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;I guess I'm getting just a really small glimpse into the poor woman in the Bible. I understand why&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; she put it all the line to reach out and touch Jesus&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. She was desperate and at the end of herself. He was all she had. He was her last hope.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;And&amp;nbsp;I find myself wishing that I could&amp;nbsp;reach out and touch Jesus too. I tell myself that I would push through the crowds to get to Him. And yet I can touch Him. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;He is all I have, and He is my hope.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Jesus' power didn't stop when He no longer walked the earth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;But am I at the end of myself really? Am I as desperate as she was? &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I want to be, because I think that is where Jesus wants us. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I finished up a class I taught with my best friend, and when I got finished, there was a release. One of those "sit down and just take a deep breath" releases. The release coupled with my discouragement left me with a feeling, but I'm not quite sure how to describe it yet. Maybe reflection? Maybe insecure? Restless? Unknown? Not seen? I can't seem to put my finger on it just yet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;And in some ways that is OK. I will keep putting one foot in front of the other, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;trying not to run ahead of Jesus,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; but instead follow. I have been enjoying the silence, sitting in my chair just thinking and reading. I have been reading Lifestories by Mark Hall. No commentaries, no Bible encyclopedias, no in-depth study of the Greek word, nothing that would look, on the outside, educational in nature. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;And yet, I have been learning. God has shown up in the pages of this book that I bought for casual reading. I love that God does that, shows up in every situation, in the everyday, in the casual. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When we least expect it, God shows up and whispers His truths to us. &amp;nbsp;We just have to look for Him. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;And so in my discouragement I sit in my chair, trying to figure out all of the other feelings that are running through my body. I read, listen to worship music, and &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hopefully listen to Him. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I'm sitting, not only in my chair, but in grace; a grace that &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;doesn't want me to stay in this discouragement&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, but says &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;it's OK to be&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. And so I&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; will be&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; right now, trusting that I will not always be &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;here, in this discouragement&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://findingheaventoday.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://i960.photobucket.com/albums/ae88/jenfergie2000/BloggButton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lauraboggess.com/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://anahnauwr.smugmug.com/photos/i-P9wn5Qq/0/O/i-P9wn5Qq.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-2379885022706749641?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/07/in-quiet.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FZz9FDf_zYY/TjAzy_HBnFI/AAAAAAAAAPA/CqnnD1JcAkA/s72-c/Bee%2527s+birthday2011+078.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>11</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-2926604174978706873</guid><pubDate>Tue, 26 Jul 2011 19:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-07-26T14:23:47.227-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">kids</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Hazelnut</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><title>Update on My Little Hazelnut</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Thank you to everyone who prayed yesterday and left me sweet comments telling me so. They encouraged me when I needed it. Everything went just fine. Little Hazelnut did wonderfully. She is used to getting IVs so she doesn't even cry anymore. She even tells them what vein she normally gets her IV in. Results will take about 2-4 weeks. In the mean time, she will have another set of tests run. To explain these tests, I should probably give you some background information on what happens to her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Beginning around the age of 6 years old, Hazelnut has had episodes of ketosis. The first episode she had that I noticed was really severe-she woke up disoriented and didn't know who I was. I immediately smelt the ketones on her breath and off we went to the ER. If you are diabetic or know anyone that is, you probably are aware of ketones and their smell. You typically find this problem in diabetics. But Hazelnut isn't diabetic; they have searched and searched, and she doesn't have diabetes. I am very thankful for this. There are other disorders that can cause a person to go into ketosis, but sometimes they are harder to find. Especially hers, because the minute she goes into an episode, we head to Texas Children's, at the same pumping her full of food which helps pull her out of one. By the time we get there, they can't find enough information in her blood to diagnose her with anything. I have to feed her though, because too many ketones in her system makes her sick. That is the other thing with her; when she gets any type of illness, she goes into an episode. It is hard to pull her out of one if she can't keep anything down so IVs have to be given. Right now, I just check her sugar and ketone levels with a glucometer and keep her fed. She gets ice cream a lot now which she doesn't mind. I also am supposed to try to put some weight on her, but that isn't easy. She is naturally very small and thin. She just turned 10 and weighs 50 pounds. Basically, she is the size of a 7 year old. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;The doctors are also looking into a reason why she is so tiny. She has been tested before, but they didn't find anything. She just might be small. Anyways, we are seeing some specialists at Texas Children's, and they think she is an interesting case-she is&amp;nbsp; mystery to them. They think that whatever she has is very mild. Again, I am thankful for this. They are trying to rule out all possible reasons, and if they do, she will get a diagnosis of ketotic hypoglycemia. She should outgrow this, but according to the medical field, she should have already outgrown it. One reason for the mystery of it all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Her next set of tests will be an overnight visit where they will force her into an episode and immediately take blood to get readings at the exact time of the episode. Sounds kind of awful, but it is safer than waiting for it to happen naturally. They will hook her up to an IV and give her fluids to keep her hydrated, but she won't be allowed to have any form of glucose-basically she will be fasting until she goes into an episode. Again, she will be hydrated though. After the blood is drawn, she can start eating again. When her levels are good, we are free to go home. The biggest difficulty with this test is just them being so hungry. Hopefully, movies will entertain her enough. I'll keep you posted on when that will be so you can pray through that as well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I will also update my results soon as well. I know I said I would do it yesterday, but life got in the way. Just to give you a sneak peak into the results-Judy Moody is mad and the Weeping Willow cried! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-2926604174978706873?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/07/update-on-my-little-hazelnut.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-7815365584833636937</guid><pubDate>Mon, 25 Jul 2011 15:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-07-25T10:43:02.125-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">kids</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Hazelnut</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">family</category><title>Texas Children's Hospital</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;So, here I sit with my middle girl, Hazelnut. She's at Texas Children's Hospital today getting some tests run. She has episodes of ketosis, but they can't figure out why. This is one of the many reasons I have been absent from the blog world. This, coupled with some other problems, one being my own health issues, has left me not wanting to do much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;I sit here fighting my anxiety. I received an email that spoke of God's peace in the middle of hard things right as I sat down in the chair next to my daughter after she got her medicine. The very thing that God sent to reassure me of His peace has instead been used by the enemy to increase my anxiety-did I get that because something is going to happen as I sit here with her so I am going to really need His peace? Oh the battle with my fear and anxiety. It puts up a good fight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;So I would appreciate your prayers today as I sit here. Prayers that all would go well. I will update when I hear anything, but it will be awhile before results are in. I will also post an update on own my test results soon, but like I said, I just haven't felt like doing anything lately. Maybe I will do it today to keep my mind busy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-7815365584833636937?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/07/texas-childrens-hospital.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-7589505584141122437</guid><pubDate>Sat, 16 Jul 2011 23:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-07-16T23:29:47.636-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">life</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">God</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">son</category><title>My Life is A Tug Of War</title><description>﻿﻿ &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rk5mT10PL9o/TiIdkqZUA-I/AAAAAAAAAO8/p7fckTKhO5c/s1600/tugofwar.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="107" m$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rk5mT10PL9o/TiIdkqZUA-I/AAAAAAAAAO8/p7fckTKhO5c/s320/tugofwar.bmp" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Google Image&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;﻿﻿ &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;My kids, if they could, would follow my blog. They think it is "cool" that I have a blog. I'm not sure why, but I think it has to do with the fact that their pictures are on here, and that sometimes I write about them. In the words of the Walnut, "Now I'm famous!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Well, the other morning, out of the blue, he told me that he had a great blog title for me-"My Life is A Tug of War". Interested in finding out more, I asked him what he meant by that. Thinking that his answer was so cute, being that I'm his mom and all, I decided I should&amp;nbsp;blog about&amp;nbsp;it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;But, I also decided that an author deserves to be heard in his own words so I asked him to write his very first blog post for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;So, with great pleasure and mommy pride, I present to you my little&amp;nbsp;8 year old Walnut, and his post-"My life is&amp;nbsp;a tug of war."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;The reason I said that is because my mom has a blog.I think it as when your not a Christian satan and god pull you back and fourth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;Like a game of tug a war. So that’s what I think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-7589505584141122437?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/07/my-life-is-tug-of-war.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rk5mT10PL9o/TiIdkqZUA-I/AAAAAAAAAO8/p7fckTKhO5c/s72-c/tugofwar.bmp" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-834390022042774192</guid><pubDate>Fri, 15 Jul 2011 04:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-07-15T07:08:10.446-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">husband</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">the Other Nut</category><title>An Exciting Announcement</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;No, mom, I am not pregnant. Just thought I would get that out of the way. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;But, I do think the announcement is equally exciting.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;I started this blog for many reasons, one being to tell&amp;nbsp;a story, a story of God's grace and ability to restore the broken, a story that speaks of His ability to crack through our nutcases that we have wrapped ourselves in, a story that is ultimately His story.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;But this story is also my husband's story. He&amp;nbsp;has lived it right along with me, fighting his own battles and hurts. I may have been crushed by his actions; but he didn't go untouched himself. He was broken and hurting just as much as me, but in different ways.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;And so I asked him to&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;share his story in hopes that our story can be told from all sides. My desire is to show his heart, and&amp;nbsp;his struggles&amp;nbsp;through&amp;nbsp;this journey, not just to show the struggles pornography brings to the wife. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;He is working on the editing part, and I will be posting it in 4 parts with hopes that he will expand on different parts in the future. Hopefully, he will start posting on a regular basis as much as his time permits. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"&gt;I pray that you are&amp;nbsp;blessed by his heart in all of this. I am so proud to be married to him. He amazes me in so many ways. And watching his heart through this journey has made me even more proud. I can't wait to share his side of&amp;nbsp;our story with you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-834390022042774192?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/07/exciting-announcement.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1705682732968515495.post-3975529412790081222</guid><pubDate>Thu, 14 Jul 2011 23:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-07-14T18:30:01.412-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">simple pleasure</category><title>Sunflowers-Simple Pleasures</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;So glad to be able to post a simple pleasure this week. I've been working hard on something lately so it's nice to slow down and just &lt;em&gt;see. &lt;/em&gt;Sunday night, the Other Nut brought me some sunflowers. They are so pretty and brighten my day when I look at them. They are on my kitchen table, often times with my napkin holder and wooden container that holds my salt and pepper shaker. Everytime I look at my table, I find myself smiling; I love the combination of the colors and textures. It just makes me stop and take it in, enough to sit and take a lot of pictures of it. It's a simple pleasure that I am thoroughly enjoying right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Kt1ybIJpffM/Th96OqQ7-_I/AAAAAAAAAO4/fybRDsv57fs/s1600/camping2011+184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="370" m$="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Kt1ybIJpffM/Th96OqQ7-_I/AAAAAAAAAO4/fybRDsv57fs/s400/camping2011+184.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://alittleofthisandthat2.blogspot.com/p/simple-pleasures.html"&gt;&lt;img alt="Project Simple Pleasures2" border="0" src="http://x0a.xanga.com/0bbf7211c3030270072565/t215421078.jpg" style="width: 135px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1705682732968515495-3975529412790081222?l=imanutcase.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://imanutcase.blogspot.com/2011/07/sunflowers-simple-pleasures.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com ("Ima")</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Kt1ybIJpffM/Th96OqQ7-_I/AAAAAAAAAO4/fybRDsv57fs/s72-c/camping2011+184.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>12</thr:total></item></channel></rss>

