<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620</id><updated>2024-10-04T22:15:51.640-04:00</updated><category term="puppy"/><category term="storm"/><category term="blessings"/><category term="labrador"/><category term="prayer"/><category term="promises"/><category term="AKC"/><category term="God&#39;s creation"/><category term="Philippians"/><category term="Proverbs 3:5"/><category term="begging"/><category term="cold"/><category term="creation"/><category term="deck"/><category term="happiness"/><category term="love of God"/><category term="love. loyalty"/><category term="milkbones"/><category term="picture perfect"/><category term="presence"/><category term="rain"/><category term="stuck"/><category term="thankful"/><category term="trust"/><category term="vet"/><category term="waiting"/><category term="walking the dog"/><title type='text'>Never Too Much Chocolate</title><subtitle type='html'>Telling My Story through the Lives of My Labs</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>83</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-2762489568486610419</id><published>2013-12-10T20:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2013-12-10T20:31:01.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cold of Winter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRBC5_kJDWmQMnLEdh7AJGPqicRWiukjD9kvg6C1gCrOiPIhNdWwfUEhRCuMKfiVUGMuRi_wFOUk6XmOFct75DWogZ06kGIWcM67GBLRaBhkBUghzexsNivslhpsnER3hl9U57XK4QcBo/s1600/zeke.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRBC5_kJDWmQMnLEdh7AJGPqicRWiukjD9kvg6C1gCrOiPIhNdWwfUEhRCuMKfiVUGMuRi_wFOUk6XmOFct75DWogZ06kGIWcM67GBLRaBhkBUghzexsNivslhpsnER3hl9U57XK4QcBo/s320/zeke.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Don&#39;t be surprised.&amp;nbsp; I did not disappear.&amp;nbsp;What am I doing?&amp;nbsp; Where have I been?&amp;nbsp; I have been in a battle.&amp;nbsp; A battle that has left me annoyed and frustrated.&amp;nbsp; It is a battle with my laptop!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I did sit down a few times to blog but I decided the computer is the winner but I finally found a loophole....log in as another user.&amp;nbsp; I don&#39;t think that is in the troubleshooting booklet but, well you know, it works.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
First thing I have to tell you is that I found the &lt;a href=&quot;http://pinchofyum.com/best-ever-brownies&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;BEST EVER BROWNIES!&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; You have to try the recipe.&amp;nbsp; It is easy and they really are the best brownies I&#39;ve ever had.&amp;nbsp; I mean really, you gotta have your chocolate.&amp;nbsp; You say-- I am a box brownie kind of girl? Well then here you go-- brownies with a twist.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Next thing I have to share is that Nay still has all her teeth (so far) and Zeke lost 8.5 pounds.&amp;nbsp; (Did you even know that Nay is missing a tooth?&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ll have to take a photo sometime.)&amp;nbsp; That&#39;s the news on them.&amp;nbsp; Maybe at some point I&#39;ll pedal backwards and blog the adventures we&#39;ve had since I&#39;ve been missing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our most recent adventure was the 9 inches of snow.&amp;nbsp; These chocolate labs LOVE snow.&amp;nbsp;As I went through the snapshots it revealed many things (besides the fact that we seriously need to clean our siding on the&amp;nbsp;house.)&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The photos even look cold but when I began to look even closer I saw something different.&amp;nbsp; I saw that even in the cold of winter there is warmth.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;There is nothing more cozy then when the cuddler, Zeke, gets up close.&amp;nbsp; There was a day when I would&#39;ve made comments about the dog hair or the dog drool but now there is warmth and comfort.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes life is just like that, sometimes you are in the cold of winter.&amp;nbsp; It is bitter cold and layers, gloves and hats don&#39;t seem to be enough.&amp;nbsp; The winds of distress blow like cold winds biting at your skin.&amp;nbsp; The kind of cold that hurts.&amp;nbsp; But if you look, and kind of squint, and really concentrate the warmth might come over you.&amp;nbsp; It might come over you in the form of a promise remembered, a song that uplifts the heart, a hug of a friend, a call from a loved one.&amp;nbsp; God can surround you with the warmth you need.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes all you can do is be still because you think if you move, you might break.&amp;nbsp; What you can do though is let those warm gifts that God brings your way-- in the form of song, promises, hugs, phone calls-- or even the love of a dog-- wrap around you and fill you and bring you comfort.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Debbie&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Unwrap Tuesdays with me and Emily P. Freeman at &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.chattingatthesky.com/&quot;&gt;www.chattingatthesky.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/2762489568486610419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/2762489568486610419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/2762489568486610419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/2762489568486610419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2013/12/cold-of-winter.html' title='Cold of Winter'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRBC5_kJDWmQMnLEdh7AJGPqicRWiukjD9kvg6C1gCrOiPIhNdWwfUEhRCuMKfiVUGMuRi_wFOUk6XmOFct75DWogZ06kGIWcM67GBLRaBhkBUghzexsNivslhpsnER3hl9U57XK4QcBo/s72-c/zeke.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-3727719883750895287</id><published>2013-07-28T00:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2013-07-28T00:44:48.610-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Light</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVc5TsXRK4yFVlAqW1EY4JYaCM4vL3ujA3hZOdeVwi8KNr1NFtazuCZGc2z74OiiUUdJu-taSUlSrZ91ZY1xlFGT1ykbEe-W-MRs_9If5JVSMljavM3uByONjnvZtgF1-46gXbiYdRnH4/s1600/daffylights.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVc5TsXRK4yFVlAqW1EY4JYaCM4vL3ujA3hZOdeVwi8KNr1NFtazuCZGc2z74OiiUUdJu-taSUlSrZ91ZY1xlFGT1ykbEe-W-MRs_9If5JVSMljavM3uByONjnvZtgF1-46gXbiYdRnH4/s320/daffylights.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The family likes to congregate at my parents house.&amp;nbsp; We like hanging out downstairs with lawn chairs while the labs (all five when we are together) can run around the yard.&amp;nbsp; Usually they just park themselves at our feet.&amp;nbsp; The warmer it would get, the more the bugs would find us so my parents decided to add a patio.&amp;nbsp; The patio is perfect.&amp;nbsp; We sit. We drink coffee and tea.&amp;nbsp; We laugh and play games.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To add to this spot they hung a string of lanterns.&amp;nbsp; They are just right.&amp;nbsp; Just enough light.&amp;nbsp; Daffy&#39;s favorite spot is to lay in the yard underneath the lights.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We often forget the importance of the Light.&amp;nbsp; We have heard the Biblical illustrations but we often go about our days just trying to get the chores done and the work day behind us.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We pray, we live, we worship.&amp;nbsp; We pray that God helps us through this rough patch or for better things ahead.&amp;nbsp; We pray for health and safety.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then that day comes when you get that phone call, that someone you care about is very ill, that it is possible they may not see another day.&amp;nbsp; And you know they don&#39;t believe.&amp;nbsp; Then.....you remember the importance of the Light.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The&amp;nbsp;Light shows us the way in darkness.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We take for granted the very reason we&amp;nbsp;call ourselves believers, we call ourselves&amp;nbsp;Christians.&amp;nbsp; It is&amp;nbsp;the Gospel&amp;nbsp;Message. That&amp;nbsp;Jesus Christ, the&amp;nbsp;Son of God&amp;nbsp;came to earth,&amp;nbsp;lived a sinless life, died and rose again for US.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; That God IS REAL, and knowing that there is a real God--&amp;nbsp;His message is real and&amp;nbsp;He desires you.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are all lost in sin.&amp;nbsp; We are all short of God.&amp;nbsp; But He has made a way and it is the Light....it is His Son Jesus Christ.&amp;nbsp; Suddenly this message was even more critical to me.&amp;nbsp; More critical for me to share.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I prayed the whole way to the hospital.&amp;nbsp; I don&#39;t want to shove the door open on my own.&amp;nbsp; When I arrived he was alone.&amp;nbsp; We chatted, this and that and then I&amp;nbsp;stood beside his bed and I ask him....Have you been thinking about God?&amp;nbsp; I know you haven&#39;t really believed in God. And he tells me, well no it isn&#39;t that but I can&#39;t wrap my head around it.&amp;nbsp; So I said you have always been a man of common sense, and well it just isn&#39;t common sense.&amp;nbsp; That is why it is called faith.&amp;nbsp; I tear up and I tell him, I wouldn&#39;t be a real friend if I didn&#39;t share it with you.&amp;nbsp; I call him by name and tell him, you need God, you need Jesus Christ.&amp;nbsp; So he thinks about it some more, and I pray on it some more.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
God has given us the liberty to make our own decision about Him.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; To believe or not believe.&amp;nbsp; It is your choice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&quot;In whom the god of this age has blinded the minds of them who believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.&quot;&amp;nbsp; II Corinthians 4:4&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is no surprise God refers to His message as the &lt;strong&gt;LIGHT&lt;/strong&gt;.&amp;nbsp; When you know Him.....you understand it.&amp;nbsp; How it can over take the night, what power a little bit of light can have in darkness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/3727719883750895287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/3727719883750895287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/3727719883750895287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/3727719883750895287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-light.html' title='The Light'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVc5TsXRK4yFVlAqW1EY4JYaCM4vL3ujA3hZOdeVwi8KNr1NFtazuCZGc2z74OiiUUdJu-taSUlSrZ91ZY1xlFGT1ykbEe-W-MRs_9If5JVSMljavM3uByONjnvZtgF1-46gXbiYdRnH4/s72-c/daffylights.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-8235546917835634617</id><published>2013-06-09T23:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2013-06-09T23:03:40.243-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mole Holes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9prLAnCL6NMYt4-tOsxl0T6HBigLQhkdzU0SttTCbvjArKAMOQATwvW6K1tAXk8PRpTvKKclsbYXOHplxKs47c2agxbi5A01LpjlTZGupOjoa5LqWcc7mKb65VPyfSdk9FEqww0Qtyw/s1600/IMG_1157.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;184&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9prLAnCL6NMYt4-tOsxl0T6HBigLQhkdzU0SttTCbvjArKAMOQATwvW6K1tAXk8PRpTvKKclsbYXOHplxKs47c2agxbi5A01LpjlTZGupOjoa5LqWcc7mKb65VPyfSdk9FEqww0Qtyw/s320/IMG_1157.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Winter was long and cold.&amp;nbsp; It seeped into spring and is leaking into summer.&amp;nbsp; This time last year it was already 90&#39;s and this year we are barely 80 degrees Fahrenheit.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Yet it is time to plant the flowers and mulch the flower beds.&amp;nbsp; To mow the lawn and spray the weeds.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then there are those pesky mole holes in our yards.&amp;nbsp; The dogs love them and NayNay-- my &quot;Hole Digger&quot; likes to go after them.&amp;nbsp; I remember when she was at my parents house a few years back mom said she looked out the back window and saw Nay&#39;s tail and rear end up&amp;nbsp;in the air but her head and rest of her body seemed to be buried in the mole hole as she was digging after the colony.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She&#39;s always been a hole digger.&amp;nbsp; Our house has a fireplace and that part of the house sticks out.&amp;nbsp; One summer she was making a habit to dig under it.&amp;nbsp; I went out one day to find her laying in the hole.&amp;nbsp; Dust was circling her and Zeke was too big to fit under there with her so he was happily circling around her thinking it was a game.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I put rocks in the hole.&amp;nbsp; That didn&#39;t help.&amp;nbsp; She still ended up digging.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes she comes running in the house with dirt on her nose.&amp;nbsp; I am sure of one thing.&amp;nbsp; NayNay is having herself a good time outside!&amp;nbsp; She always looks happy and satisfied when she comes back inside.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is simplicity in the life of&amp;nbsp;a dog.&amp;nbsp; How many times have we said-- I wish I had the life of a dog!&amp;nbsp; Eating, sleeping, playing!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nay could be totally annoyed by all the holes in the yard and the critter invading her territory, but instead she digs.&amp;nbsp; She digs, and while she digs her tail wags left and right telling of her happiness.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It seems like sometimes life brings us mole holes and they seem to complicate our day and our lives.&amp;nbsp; We complain and worry.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We often complicate life.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We lie awake at night worrying over problems&amp;nbsp;we cannot control and we&amp;nbsp;engage in mindless activities that take us away from real life events.&amp;nbsp; We let the mole holes take over our life like they&#39;ve taken over our yard.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Even&amp;nbsp;when life is difficult there are moments to enjoy the simplicity in life.&amp;nbsp; Sit on the porch and drink tea.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Walk the dog.&amp;nbsp; Stop and listen to my husband sing.&amp;nbsp; Listen to my family laugh.&amp;nbsp; Try to spot the first lightening bug of the summer.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Deep breaths of honeysuckle&amp;nbsp;air.&amp;nbsp; Counting gifts.&amp;nbsp; Watching Nay dig holes instead of trying to stop her, I mean really...if she could get one of those&amp;nbsp;critters maybe there would&amp;nbsp;be less holes?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/8235546917835634617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/8235546917835634617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/8235546917835634617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/8235546917835634617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2013/06/mole-holes.html' title='Mole Holes'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9prLAnCL6NMYt4-tOsxl0T6HBigLQhkdzU0SttTCbvjArKAMOQATwvW6K1tAXk8PRpTvKKclsbYXOHplxKs47c2agxbi5A01LpjlTZGupOjoa5LqWcc7mKb65VPyfSdk9FEqww0Qtyw/s72-c/IMG_1157.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-7980351808444913485</id><published>2013-03-29T23:47:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-03-30T00:08:46.132-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter and Candy Baskets</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixeLKroPDln5rc4OFv8mwKcGrbpWnDCdIFzAGgxaA-zIR0XfpGchyU-LnGdCpzXsbTxvuNFNgE4yvhQ2zBYDzzDXN568N2-wi8nafhXZOhGawBsnrZYxEQnTL0Y_mK-Bw7ZFG72Ywz9Rw/s1600/Zekeinspring.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;229&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixeLKroPDln5rc4OFv8mwKcGrbpWnDCdIFzAGgxaA-zIR0XfpGchyU-LnGdCpzXsbTxvuNFNgE4yvhQ2zBYDzzDXN568N2-wi8nafhXZOhGawBsnrZYxEQnTL0Y_mK-Bw7ZFG72Ywz9Rw/s320/Zekeinspring.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;It is Friday before Easter.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ve read the blogs of lent and holy week. I&#39;ve seen the updates proclaiming today is Good Friday.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;d like to say Easter crept up on me, but I saw it coming.&amp;nbsp; I had all the reminders hitting my inbox and my Facebook page.&amp;nbsp; I saw the chocolate Easter bunny commercials.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;The song &quot;Glorious Day&quot; runs through my mind as the thought of Easter flickers again through my mind.&amp;nbsp; I think of what I will wear, what I will cook.&amp;nbsp; I wonder of the songs and the message for Sunday.&amp;nbsp; I realize I&#39;m shallow about all of this.&amp;nbsp; I should be deeper and more spiritual about the upcoming Easter.&amp;nbsp; I usually am.&amp;nbsp; But this Easter I am grateful my life isn&#39;t a whirlwind of stress, anxiety, and drama....as many springtime pasts have been.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;d like to enjoy Easter as if I were a child-- candy baskets, egg hunts, and pretty dresses; Bible lessons on the death, burial and resurrection of Christ.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Don&#39;t take me wrong.&amp;nbsp; I realize the world we live in is not &quot;candy baskets, egg hunts, and pretty dresses&quot;.&amp;nbsp; This world is dressed up in words like financial crisis, war, and hunger. It is plagued with broken homes, lost children, and crumbling marriages.&amp;nbsp; It is wrapped in anger, depression, anxiety and hopelessness.&amp;nbsp; It can be dark and sad.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Life is hard&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;But yet, we should take the time to enjoy March Madness and planting flowers.&amp;nbsp; To glimpse at the budding trees and the grass turning new shades of green.&amp;nbsp; To laugh at the puppies as they run circles in the house and dig for moles outside (while trying not to cringe at muddy paws).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;It is Easter, a time to remember the greatest sacrifice of all, the &lt;strong&gt;sacrifice of a Savior&lt;/strong&gt;.&amp;nbsp; I will relish the Sunday morning service, I will worship the Savior, I will feel a humbling and gratefulness wash over me during the hour as I am reminded of God&#39;s love for me.&amp;nbsp; And when I leave the building, to go to my parents&#39; home, to feast with friends and family--to talk about the service and yes the pretty dresses too....I remember that even these vain little things, that seem so shallow?&amp;nbsp; God&#39;s sacrifice allows me joy in not just Salvation, or the BIG things, but in all the million little things that He gave me....that every detail of my life-- from the Gospel message of the Cross to the candy baskets-- are gifts of joy for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Wherever you are today-- whether you are feeling brokenness or healing--may you find Easter a time where you celebrate what God &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;has done, is doing, and will do&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&amp;nbsp; Though our path isn&#39;t always clear or understandable--may you find your own &quot;candy basket&quot; where you are reminded of the million little things &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;He is giving you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; each day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Happy Easter!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;Debbie&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/7980351808444913485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/7980351808444913485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/7980351808444913485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/7980351808444913485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2013/03/easter-and-candy-baskets_29.html' title='Easter and Candy Baskets'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixeLKroPDln5rc4OFv8mwKcGrbpWnDCdIFzAGgxaA-zIR0XfpGchyU-LnGdCpzXsbTxvuNFNgE4yvhQ2zBYDzzDXN568N2-wi8nafhXZOhGawBsnrZYxEQnTL0Y_mK-Bw7ZFG72Ywz9Rw/s72-c/Zekeinspring.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-3568104334220852549</id><published>2013-02-14T15:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2013-02-14T16:20:51.508-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine&#39;s Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zM9M-_z9SSJXksn97aAbe-2jEDKl07Khx6gAZOva0YoCnK214wjHlNnQnBD7q6Mr3M-nQ42tdxxBmquJJlNXeKhECN9V3xhgYHEaNqj5BF31VKWjR6gouWAPvxyaU3NQfxiiN3bob1c/s1600/zeke11.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zM9M-_z9SSJXksn97aAbe-2jEDKl07Khx6gAZOva0YoCnK214wjHlNnQnBD7q6Mr3M-nQ42tdxxBmquJJlNXeKhECN9V3xhgYHEaNqj5BF31VKWjR6gouWAPvxyaU3NQfxiiN3bob1c/s320/zeke11.jpg&quot; uea=&quot;true&quot; width=&quot;239&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1433443137MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1433443137MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I read an &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.usatoday.com/story/money/2013/02/13/pets-valentines-day-gift-dog-cat/1917251/?kjnd=vhQ8hFbOyhbJR%2BFhww8Ltdf1Hrxz7yA40a%2F6BAGEprOpE4M3gCvF986%2BQqvyuioT-867fac6f-c980-47b1-8543-6742a436af21_C7prVJxUJKRka6npjStjKYEhjCveFw63mE7dc4nunoql6Hzxhek8%2FNaUqX46zb4Y&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;article&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt; yesterday about pets being your valentine.&amp;nbsp; How yes, there are crazy people who shell out money for their pets on Valentine’s Day. It is the old fashioned kind of love that you can’t text or send an e-mail to.&amp;nbsp; You can’t call them up (though many of us do) and leave messages of love on your phone.&amp;nbsp; It’s the kind of love that you actually have to give to them in person.&amp;nbsp; Kneeling on the floor, rubbing behind their ears, scratching the top of their head.&amp;nbsp; NayNay will actually let me hug her.&amp;nbsp; Zeke won’t sit still enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1433443137MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt; right: auto;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_2055&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I declared to my best friend of 22 years--Kelli—“I am beginning to believe Valentine’s Day is for dating couples and newlyweds.”&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1433443137MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt; right: auto;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_72&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_53&quot;&gt;Valentine’s Day was only important to me in the absence of a boyfriend or when love was new. When you are single, somehow Valentine’s Day seems even more important than it really is.&amp;nbsp; When you are just dating—it’s just exciting to finally have someone to celebrate love with.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_59&quot;&gt;Now that I have been married nine-and-a-half years, when I think Valentine’s Day I think over-crowded restaurants and over-priced flowers. &lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_71&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I ask my friends and co-workers what they are doing and the ones that have been married for years often begin the conversation with some word that is more like a noise..&quot;Hmm..nah...&quot;.&amp;nbsp; They may say they went to dinner a couple nights ago or will over the weekend, but to all you starry-eyed single people out there-- us married people were probably already going to go out anyways, we are just calling it Valentine&#39;s dinner and to celebrate may even allow ourselves an appetizer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_1920&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1433443137MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt; right: auto;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_1925&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_2044&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;So Kelli tells me that Valentine’s Day isn’t important either but she wants to get something for the kids.&amp;nbsp; Later she texts me and tells me of the flowers and chocolate-dipped strawberries her husband of almost 20 years surprised her with.&amp;nbsp; She’s weepy and Kelli’s never weepy.&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_1924&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; She even takes pictures of it and sends them to me, minus one chocolate covered strawberry she has already eaten.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1433443137MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt; right: auto;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_3008&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_3247&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_2279&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I have decided to bake Steve a cake and I know he has plans to go out and buy me something small....other than a spice rack ;).&amp;nbsp; We don&#39;t normally celebrate Valentine&#39;s Day and truthfully neither I nor Kelli would be disappointed with nothing.&amp;nbsp; The truth is, we agree that it isn&#39;t Valentine&#39;s Day that is so special, it&#39;s when someone just takes the time to think of us and to do something special.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1433443137MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt; right: auto;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_4081&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_2056&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;So for either of us—Valentine’s Day isn’t about the chocolate-dipped strawberries or the chocolate cake (though of course you could never have too&amp;nbsp;much chocolate-&amp;nbsp;strawberries, cakes or labs)!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_7_2_17_1360872624316_3761&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;It’s about the thought, and truth be told it’s really just a day that reminds us to stop and love the one we are with.&amp;nbsp; So for this Valentine&#39;s Day post-- I wish my husband, partner and&amp;nbsp; valentine...Steve..Happy Valentine&#39;s Day.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; You and I both know that love isn&#39;t about a day but about what we have that gets us through every day, every joy, every trial, and every path in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1433443137MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt; right: auto;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/3568104334220852549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/3568104334220852549' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/3568104334220852549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/3568104334220852549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2013/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&#39;s Day'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zM9M-_z9SSJXksn97aAbe-2jEDKl07Khx6gAZOva0YoCnK214wjHlNnQnBD7q6Mr3M-nQ42tdxxBmquJJlNXeKhECN9V3xhgYHEaNqj5BF31VKWjR6gouWAPvxyaU3NQfxiiN3bob1c/s72-c/zeke11.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-8556595687833886579</id><published>2013-02-06T13:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-02-06T13:07:49.311-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Supplements</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt5imAyJrxUq0I8t6XD-eEB50NlAgjAnlj2BGIP-855uJ1zzOBUm0GipL4JazZe9ESIqBktlq1c_0ENsGW4aAPOmtfRV-SuT8F5bmRzmQDLjR-32G8cPLkQOLTfQ4cWCiJOSZZno5IcOg/s1600/naynay.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; jea=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt5imAyJrxUq0I8t6XD-eEB50NlAgjAnlj2BGIP-855uJ1zzOBUm0GipL4JazZe9ESIqBktlq1c_0ENsGW4aAPOmtfRV-SuT8F5bmRzmQDLjR-32G8cPLkQOLTfQ4cWCiJOSZZno5IcOg/s320/naynay.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
NayNay has always been grey around the muzzle.&amp;nbsp; Since the day we picked her up from the shelter.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; We were told she was two that fall day in 2004.&amp;nbsp; We seriously doubted it with all that grey but the way she acts at &quot;maybe eleven&quot; makes us believe she would&#39;ve very well been two.&amp;nbsp; She still bounces off the walls when she gets to playing. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now she&#39;s grey around the eyes....the grey on her muzzle has grown out&amp;nbsp;a bit.&amp;nbsp; The grey doesn&#39;t bother me since she&#39;s pretty much always been grey-- it&#39;s the stiffness that bothers me.&amp;nbsp; How she gets up and stretches after a long lay-- and yet she walks with stiff hind legs across the room. She doesn&#39;t seem bothered by it but I notice.&amp;nbsp; I think we&#39;re blessed.&amp;nbsp; Usually labs show it earlier in life with all their hips and joint issues.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nay is so little compared to Zeke.&amp;nbsp; Almost half his size.&amp;nbsp; When she lays in the bed she looks like a little bear cuddled up in the blankets.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes when I walk through the room only her eye balls follow me.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes I want to lay in my bed forever.&amp;nbsp; The other night I came home from work and walked straight upstairs and got in bed.&amp;nbsp; My mind had been playing tricks on me and it was affecting me mentally and physically.&amp;nbsp; Like I was going to shut down and not move.&amp;nbsp; Whether it be called an anxiety attack or just a pity party-- one thing was certain-- getting out of bed, stretching, and moving on was going to take initiative on my part.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And so I did-- get out of bed, stretched and moved on.&amp;nbsp; Steve was sick and sleeping so it was dinner by myself.&amp;nbsp; I made myself a healthy meal, a hot cup of tea...and watched two hours of Downton Abbey.&amp;nbsp; Did it help?&amp;nbsp; Well how could a cup of tea and Downton Abbey not help?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think it was one of those things where I had made it difficult on myself.&amp;nbsp; Though I am still a &quot;young thirty-seven&quot; year old...it seems as I age the battleground of the mind becomes more frequent.&amp;nbsp; Not panicky over huge things-- but panicky over little.&amp;nbsp; Why won&#39;t my computer work?&amp;nbsp; How will I ever retire?&amp;nbsp; I shouldn&#39;t be eating these chocolate chips!!!&amp;nbsp; (BTW....I grabbed a few chocolate chips as I just typed that)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And so the &quot;day to day grind&quot; is now inflicted with the battlefield of my mind.&amp;nbsp; What do I need?&amp;nbsp; I need a supplement!&amp;nbsp; I pop NayNay a supplement to help her each day....stretch those stiff legs.&amp;nbsp; But it takes her having it every day to get her through.&amp;nbsp; I need a supplement.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I was young I thought a Bible verse would always fix things....a prayer would sway my mind in a new direction.&amp;nbsp; It isn&#39;t always that simple.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s not like aspirin-- take it when you have a headache only...it&#39;s more like a vitamin.&amp;nbsp; You add it every day.&amp;nbsp; Taking it once may not help immediately--- but a daily supplement will help.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes it is just saying &quot;My heart is fixed on Thee...&quot; Psalm 57:7&amp;nbsp; A daily supplement of meditating on God&#39;s promises, God&#39;s love...and God ALONE.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/8556595687833886579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/8556595687833886579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/8556595687833886579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/8556595687833886579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2013/02/supplements.html' title='Supplements'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt5imAyJrxUq0I8t6XD-eEB50NlAgjAnlj2BGIP-855uJ1zzOBUm0GipL4JazZe9ESIqBktlq1c_0ENsGW4aAPOmtfRV-SuT8F5bmRzmQDLjR-32G8cPLkQOLTfQ4cWCiJOSZZno5IcOg/s72-c/naynay.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-7615823188994407417</id><published>2013-01-30T22:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2013-02-08T10:18:10.302-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Certain</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hiEF0UIQXp5T6jiK2XmWEgdEWpeU_9-FudtmpqH9cPbNS3DyJwgtjV_Kbr_VGwZeGWGJzSZnNFy_4kdNpQ08d_tVCkhBrmvEXIG5f5iiPOnACdP913-cE7s1_j3sEpqrPFhuWWh5IOE/s1600/IMG_2806.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hiEF0UIQXp5T6jiK2XmWEgdEWpeU_9-FudtmpqH9cPbNS3DyJwgtjV_Kbr_VGwZeGWGJzSZnNFy_4kdNpQ08d_tVCkhBrmvEXIG5f5iiPOnACdP913-cE7s1_j3sEpqrPFhuWWh5IOE/s320/IMG_2806.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Zeke.&amp;nbsp; Chocolate lab.&amp;nbsp; Loving.&amp;nbsp; Snow-lover. Snack-lover.&amp;nbsp; Cuddler.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know these things about Zeke.&amp;nbsp; I am certain of it.&amp;nbsp; He waits on the porch for me.&amp;nbsp; To let him, for lets say five minute before he asks me once again to let him out.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some people say they are certain of many thing.&amp;nbsp; I say I am certain of few.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What I do know is that every day begins and every day ends.&amp;nbsp; What I do with the hours in between the beginning and the end is my choice.&amp;nbsp; Life is a journey of many choice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I began blogging when I found myself in the midst of trials.&amp;nbsp; Wanting to share my heart but not knowing how.&amp;nbsp; I shared my blog with no one.&amp;nbsp; I shared my passion for my labs and slowly began to journal my feelings about God.&amp;nbsp; They blended along the way and I&#39;ve noticed how my labs....who cannot speak words...speak to me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I know it isn&#39;t just my dogs who speak to me.&amp;nbsp; It is people in my life.&amp;nbsp; It is circumstances.&amp;nbsp; It is hard days.&amp;nbsp; It is messy feelings.&amp;nbsp; So I stop and I realize God is speaking to me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A God that no longer speaks verbally, yet so powerfully uses everything else in my life to speak to me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And what is speaking to you?&amp;nbsp; Are you letting it speak?&amp;nbsp; Have you stopped?&amp;nbsp; Have you listened?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Was it the sunrise?&amp;nbsp; Was it the wind?&amp;nbsp; Was it the trees empty of leaves?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Was it the clerk at the store?&amp;nbsp; Was it the phone call from a loved one?&amp;nbsp; Was it the pet who cuddled close?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
God&#39;s speaking to me.&amp;nbsp; Of that I am certain.&amp;nbsp; And I notice it only when I listen for the message.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is a difference you know?&amp;nbsp; Listening &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;to&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; the message and listening &amp;nbsp;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;for&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt; the message.&amp;nbsp; You have to listen for the message to be able to listen to it.&amp;nbsp; To know what God wants you to hear.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/7615823188994407417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/7615823188994407417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/7615823188994407417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/7615823188994407417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2013/01/i-am-certain.html' title='I Am Certain'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hiEF0UIQXp5T6jiK2XmWEgdEWpeU_9-FudtmpqH9cPbNS3DyJwgtjV_Kbr_VGwZeGWGJzSZnNFy_4kdNpQ08d_tVCkhBrmvEXIG5f5iiPOnACdP913-cE7s1_j3sEpqrPFhuWWh5IOE/s72-c/IMG_2806.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-56968004734380405</id><published>2013-01-05T23:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2013-01-05T23:14:40.478-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Expectations</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzbBxeVqMHtDEDbQZs0nyS51oTWkV-gkKvz8orguo3thhddyDi-f3c-y-24Y1T1d5Tt5fukLq9IolH8FkVKWl0zOnIDlOPLRrYkJDMNtpxcQwQMm1EfA7iRc_vIpZbQI1gGr9qs1Zd5I/s640/blogger-image--1644837968.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzbBxeVqMHtDEDbQZs0nyS51oTWkV-gkKvz8orguo3thhddyDi-f3c-y-24Y1T1d5Tt5fukLq9IolH8FkVKWl0zOnIDlOPLRrYkJDMNtpxcQwQMm1EfA7iRc_vIpZbQI1gGr9qs1Zd5I/s640/blogger-image--1644837968.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I&#39;m thinking they have an internal clock. The chocolate ones.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s like they know when the master will arrive at home (Yes, the master would be me, or so they let me think!)&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
The storm door is the place they sit, they watch, they wait.&amp;nbsp; Nay&amp;nbsp;likes to sit for hours.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;When the neighbors walk by with their own dog she barks like she&#39;s saying &quot;I&#39;m gonna get my shotgun if you don&#39;t get off my property!&quot; but she can&#39;t do a thing since the storm door is locked.&amp;nbsp; She can only bark behind the glass.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
They expect entertainment at the door.&amp;nbsp; For the world to come to them.&amp;nbsp; They expect to see the postman approach, the neighbor kids to run by, the dogs to run by with their owners.&amp;nbsp; They expect me to pull up in the driveway.&amp;nbsp; They expect.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
And sitting at the door of 2013 I expect.&amp;nbsp; We have our list of expectations, &quot;This is going to be a good year, the year of {&lt;em&gt;fill in the blank&lt;/em&gt;}.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
I will lose &quot;x&quot; pounds.&amp;nbsp; I will eat healthier.&amp;nbsp; I will read the Bible through.&amp;nbsp; I will get up earlier every day.&amp;nbsp; I will go to bed earlier.&amp;nbsp; I will work less and live more.&amp;nbsp; I will keep a journal.&amp;nbsp; I will pray more.&amp;nbsp; I will play more.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
I dont&#39; make resolutions because I end up putting my expectations in myself.&amp;nbsp; I have to live one day at a time with the challenges of that day.&amp;nbsp; My challenges may be the same each day...but my circumstances are not the same each day and what I might need from God today may be different than what I need tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
Psalm 62:5 says &quot;My soul, wait you only upon God; for my expectation is from him.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
So I change my expectations.....it is no longer a list that begins with &quot;I&quot; but a list that begins with &quot;He&quot;.&amp;nbsp; What will He have for me in 2013?&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
I don&#39;t want to sit at the glass door looking out expecting what this world can give me, but I want to expect what an omnipotent, eternal God can give me.&amp;nbsp; Whether through quiet or through storms, what can I expect from God?&amp;nbsp; No matter...&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;the glorious part of all is not the EXPECTING but the WHO we expect from.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Debbie&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/56968004734380405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/56968004734380405' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/56968004734380405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/56968004734380405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2013/01/expectations.html' title='Expectations'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzbBxeVqMHtDEDbQZs0nyS51oTWkV-gkKvz8orguo3thhddyDi-f3c-y-24Y1T1d5Tt5fukLq9IolH8FkVKWl0zOnIDlOPLRrYkJDMNtpxcQwQMm1EfA7iRc_vIpZbQI1gGr9qs1Zd5I/s72-c/blogger-image--1644837968.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-3727070209173521898</id><published>2012-12-31T14:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-31T22:27:48.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Living in 2012</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot;style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvERgzGe9D2GgLZBe9CCFyY795rcRAvLJ9HQz6-0VxvPLR7xdwqgqVxKtI5FbeePx5jnSTpKl_9nhnBjhnLU0B7-3D1VABmyVeV3FBVG3dfuQ8h1fl7syvIeIEqvwi9BbPoDq631O0gKg/s640/blogger-image-1579309244.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvERgzGe9D2GgLZBe9CCFyY795rcRAvLJ9HQz6-0VxvPLR7xdwqgqVxKtI5FbeePx5jnSTpKl_9nhnBjhnLU0B7-3D1VABmyVeV3FBVG3dfuQ8h1fl7syvIeIEqvwi9BbPoDq631O0gKg/s640/blogger-image-1579309244.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;My chocolate labs, they keep me sane, they keep me responsible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;If it weren&#39;t for them I may never vacuum with my friend Mr. Dyson.&amp;nbsp; I may have never learned the importance of measuring kibble.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;I may never find the cold wind hit me in the face when I open the sliding glass door every morning.&amp;nbsp; I may never see eight chocolate paws running across the snow.&amp;nbsp; I may never yell out my back door &quot;Go Potty!&quot; for all the neighbors to hear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;I may never be nudged by a chocolate head to be reminded &quot;I am here to love&quot;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;My chocolate labs remind me, life goes on.&amp;nbsp; They remind me that though problems are small or great, &quot;I still need fed, I still need let out, I still need attention and love.&quot;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;They remind me.......&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;to live.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;2012 was a year of many things.&amp;nbsp; A year of change, a year of silence.&amp;nbsp; A year of heartache, a year of joy.&amp;nbsp; And every year we hope and wish for a year that is one of good things happening, like movie scenes flashing across the screen with happy music in the background.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I have learned that living is for one day at a time.&amp;nbsp; That sorrow will not skip me, but neither will joy.&amp;nbsp; That trials will happen, but so will blessings.&amp;nbsp; That this life is meant to live.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; To live in the fullest, to breathe in the moments, moments of happiness, and the moments that teach us through hard things.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And so I end 2012, telling myself....that no matter what happens in life....LIVE...for each day is new with mercies.&amp;nbsp; Each day is fresh.....waiting for memories to be made...like my own movie.....where Jesus is the Creator, Producer, and Director.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Where He guides and gives me a life.....that through His eyes my life is just what He has allowed it to be.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;To Live..to Enjoy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/3727070209173521898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/3727070209173521898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/3727070209173521898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/3727070209173521898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/12/my-chocolate-labs-they-keep-me-sane.html' title='Living in 2012'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvERgzGe9D2GgLZBe9CCFyY795rcRAvLJ9HQz6-0VxvPLR7xdwqgqVxKtI5FbeePx5jnSTpKl_9nhnBjhnLU0B7-3D1VABmyVeV3FBVG3dfuQ8h1fl7syvIeIEqvwi9BbPoDq631O0gKg/s72-c/blogger-image-1579309244.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-6292464785836321452</id><published>2012-12-17T22:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-17T23:18:31.183-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Live Well, Laugh Often, Love Much</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifc35IZTo3nY0CabjNLHiKR3b8aTC_6OWIGFZJ41rVu7QWIFq2pVd6z8k3Pcxs_sc2-LGJJiMQkXfNOkQWlstLzDtSTKRgpKSY9RpoxDtmkYnFEOMzYYnVHCgcoLjbr2aMNo18DPLjEKg/s1600/nay+cropped.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIsz9aT8LBnLxfTBEHd4v8TGJEjd8T6yhS17NotDWsQQYhnDp4Fa54XYLlPgXEb9utbQYZ4_z7fY3C02Yza_5FzY-KGTxoIBCmEYEOPHvOstMudceiOS95uAB2oYC79KKk8yj1clzH78/s1600/lifewell.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIsz9aT8LBnLxfTBEHd4v8TGJEjd8T6yhS17NotDWsQQYhnDp4Fa54XYLlPgXEb9utbQYZ4_z7fY3C02Yza_5FzY-KGTxoIBCmEYEOPHvOstMudceiOS95uAB2oYC79KKk8yj1clzH78/s320/lifewell.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I saw this picture in it&#39;s original form I saw pieces of&amp;nbsp;my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With the churches along the fire place mantle.&amp;nbsp; The chocolate lab laying on the floor.&amp;nbsp; The blanket draped over the couch.&amp;nbsp; One of NayNay&#39;s bones.&amp;nbsp; The couch that seems to fit me just right as well as leaving enough room for the big chocolate goofy one, Zeke, to curl up with me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It has flattened with all my comfy sitting.&amp;nbsp; That couch is one of my happy places.&amp;nbsp; I find myself there watching tv while folding laundry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then there was the quote, that I barely noticed.&amp;nbsp; &lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Live Well, Laugh Often, Love&amp;nbsp;Much.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOUbxBS3jKj_iwxx-X3m1wiJYIu44_dP0POsNQH1KdEwnM7eMDaR95foewatWrZm4tEj1gFnbTFvNtI_arH2NkqePWJSOEo6om4zUd6cAs9rHdcMFcmNmbyXGvsdAM-wDMiaLcpwXWuQ/s1600/nay+close+up.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;229&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOUbxBS3jKj_iwxx-X3m1wiJYIu44_dP0POsNQH1KdEwnM7eMDaR95foewatWrZm4tEj1gFnbTFvNtI_arH2NkqePWJSOEo6om4zUd6cAs9rHdcMFcmNmbyXGvsdAM-wDMiaLcpwXWuQ/s320/nay+close+up.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I never really paid much attention to this photo.....  &quot;Live Well, Laugh Often, Love Much.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Friday,&amp;nbsp; December 14, 2012 we were all reminded of that.&amp;nbsp; To live well, laugh often, love much.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you saw the news as I saw it you were at one point relieved to see only one had died.&amp;nbsp; Then one turned to twenty-eight deaths, and then twenty of them were children, and then a whole class was gone.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then you thought of Christmas presents unopened.&amp;nbsp; You thought of family Christmas cards just sent.&amp;nbsp; You thought of empty rooms and empty beds.&amp;nbsp; You thought of empty hearts.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t know what these families would say, what these children would say if they could speak.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am reminded though that each day is a gift.&amp;nbsp; That each loved one is a gift.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When we complain about work, traffic or rain.&amp;nbsp; When we gripe about messy rooms, laundry piles, and dirty dishes.&amp;nbsp; When we grumble over lost items or lack of time to finish a project.&amp;nbsp; This is when we must remember to live well, laugh often, and love much.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I cannot offer wisdom or answers.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;do not know your experience.&amp;nbsp;I do&amp;nbsp;not know your exact need.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I know&amp;nbsp;my God, and I pray to my God....and&amp;nbsp;He knows you, and He knows your heart and hurts.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I pray....for&amp;nbsp;Sandy Hook.&amp;nbsp; For families.&amp;nbsp; And in thinking of those families I think of thousands of families sitting in hospital rooms this Christmas season....praying over their own loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
May you find time to Live Well, Laugh Often and Love Much.&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;God&#39;s biggest gifts are often little and it&#39;s the details that help us see....help us to live well...make us laugh often.....and inspire us to love much.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Debbie&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIV7YnBVHbfhXB5Yg6mqX06f0EgT2WZuPqQlAC478szDRJvJHiQefv5WzTaCIcmw-kwileVTWhOB2HEqWSmINK6yEUs-LqN_DhzVzPlYQGohCRQosAIjaCRz0_sydQS7g6D_LPwTYzi4/s1600/tuesdays-unwrapped-700x155.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;70&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIV7YnBVHbfhXB5Yg6mqX06f0EgT2WZuPqQlAC478szDRJvJHiQefv5WzTaCIcmw-kwileVTWhOB2HEqWSmINK6yEUs-LqN_DhzVzPlYQGohCRQosAIjaCRz0_sydQS7g6D_LPwTYzi4/s320/tuesdays-unwrapped-700x155.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/6292464785836321452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/6292464785836321452' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/6292464785836321452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/6292464785836321452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/12/live-well-laugh-often-love-much.html' title='Live Well, Laugh Often, Love Much'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIsz9aT8LBnLxfTBEHd4v8TGJEjd8T6yhS17NotDWsQQYhnDp4Fa54XYLlPgXEb9utbQYZ4_z7fY3C02Yza_5FzY-KGTxoIBCmEYEOPHvOstMudceiOS95uAB2oYC79KKk8yj1clzH78/s72-c/lifewell.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-8003816131104317901</id><published>2012-12-11T08:29:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-11T08:33:18.258-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Feeling of Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix17nkSf8zI8RZ8XdNIz8oQLhcCdmF32HrRatytCwSOvEfGOs8iKENXUYKyr2BvnsROvU1AC-MqQWESHbhErBbrhmPIaGnnQ8QB0tDnI07fyTEUvAzWJCbEZUSvNkRtYjT_mSY1d5JaMs/s1600/nay+bone.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img bea=&quot;true&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix17nkSf8zI8RZ8XdNIz8oQLhcCdmF32HrRatytCwSOvEfGOs8iKENXUYKyr2BvnsROvU1AC-MqQWESHbhErBbrhmPIaGnnQ8QB0tDnI07fyTEUvAzWJCbEZUSvNkRtYjT_mSY1d5JaMs/s320/nay+bone.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nay-Nay does not handle stress well.&amp;nbsp; She flees from it.&amp;nbsp; One night Zeke had a seizure that seemed worst than most and harder for him to fully recover from.&amp;nbsp; After a seizure I have to keep him calm so that he doesn&#39;t rush to stand before his legs are ready.&amp;nbsp; One night Zeke&#39;s seizure was scary enough that Nay-Nay left the room and crawled in her bed with her bone.&amp;nbsp; The picture above is how I found her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was driving down the road listening to Christmas music, watching the girl in the car next to me shove a piece of pizza in her mouth.&amp;nbsp; She looked like she was on a road trip, possibly to visit with family.&amp;nbsp; The roads were wet and the the air was cold.&amp;nbsp; It felt like Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t understand how things can &quot;feel&quot; like Christmas.&amp;nbsp; Every other winter day that is just as cold in January and February we don&#39;t say....&quot;It feels like Christmas&quot;.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
Feeling like Christmas....when the music plays and it seems happy and everything seems happy and I think to myself how can this be duplicated?&amp;nbsp; Will listening to Christmas music in March bring the same kind of blissful&amp;nbsp;happy feeling.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I get Nay-Nay.&amp;nbsp;Stressful situations do not feel like Christmas.&amp;nbsp;I understand going upstairs to bed and curling up with my favorite &quot;bone&quot;.&amp;nbsp; I always call it my &quot;happy place&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today as I &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.chattingatthesky.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;un-wrap Tuesday&lt;/a&gt; I am reminded to unwrap every day like it is Christmas.&amp;nbsp; Since I unwrapped last Tuesday....a friend loses their beloved pet, a brother dies too young, an uncle is suddenly gone.....grief and loss.&amp;nbsp; Pain.&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Life&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These are all reminders that we should unwrap every day like it is Christmas.&amp;nbsp; We may not have the music, the lights, the baked goods...but we can still live it.&amp;nbsp; We can still have the joy of Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My happy place doesn&#39;t have to be &quot;curled up in bed with my bone&quot; but my happy place can be every day.&amp;nbsp; In the seat of my car, in the chair at my desk, in the pew at church and cuddled on the couch with my chocolate ones.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hard times have passed, hard times will come....but the feeling of&amp;nbsp; Christmas cannot be beat by the JOY of CHRIST during difficult days.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Whatever you are going through, may YOU find the JOY of CHRIST.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNj7da-YMVxw0yrOl2eUkIS_u5ul2_mA_D68Qyo6urF4VXg7nsZ5Ntiib5NVgapbAeoJXsRqNsRpAkKvWc706yJ5A3jCHkAN4H2qOnT3rwedNhp4rOxsT7V05JwxRWjMeGBfN063f1No8/s1600/tuesday-unwrapped.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img bea=&quot;true&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;133&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNj7da-YMVxw0yrOl2eUkIS_u5ul2_mA_D68Qyo6urF4VXg7nsZ5Ntiib5NVgapbAeoJXsRqNsRpAkKvWc706yJ5A3jCHkAN4H2qOnT3rwedNhp4rOxsT7V05JwxRWjMeGBfN063f1No8/s200/tuesday-unwrapped.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Un-wrap tuesdays with me and Emily Freeman at &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.chattingatthesky.com/&quot;&gt;www.chattingatthesky.com&lt;/a&gt; -&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&quot;A Place for Your Soul to Breathe&quot;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/8003816131104317901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/8003816131104317901' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/8003816131104317901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/8003816131104317901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-feeling-of-christmas.html' title='The Feeling of Christmas'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix17nkSf8zI8RZ8XdNIz8oQLhcCdmF32HrRatytCwSOvEfGOs8iKENXUYKyr2BvnsROvU1AC-MqQWESHbhErBbrhmPIaGnnQ8QB0tDnI07fyTEUvAzWJCbEZUSvNkRtYjT_mSY1d5JaMs/s72-c/nay+bone.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-2811499967146116202</id><published>2012-12-07T13:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-07T13:09:40.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Name Calling</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-aMFNsWwcvXWBcM4gKsP_4fwVl5gjAmLqqaGZ4B4WDO-aY-1Smi0m-nAKTGc5YOyoW-5j54z88auiDntPGqKWlpqHvcW3cpg5GPTvTPdSS0rn7xUWEC-zqXkcoihppbl_k2I8g6bX2j0/s1600/REBELLION.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; nea=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-aMFNsWwcvXWBcM4gKsP_4fwVl5gjAmLqqaGZ4B4WDO-aY-1Smi0m-nAKTGc5YOyoW-5j54z88auiDntPGqKWlpqHvcW3cpg5GPTvTPdSS0rn7xUWEC-zqXkcoihppbl_k2I8g6bX2j0/s320/REBELLION.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Utter Rebellion.&amp;nbsp; These chocolate ones are totally rebelling against getting their photo snapped.&amp;nbsp; It would&#39;ve made such a great picture too.&amp;nbsp; But nope!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So you say, &quot;Why isn&#39;t she just calling their names?&quot;&amp;nbsp; That&#39;s because they are trained.&amp;nbsp;When a name is called that means &quot;come here&quot;.&amp;nbsp; If they are outside running around (or in Nay&#39;s case digging holes) and I call their names they come to me.&amp;nbsp; When they are in the house and I call their name they gallop to me, you can hear them rumbling as they come, two chocolate labs tripping over each other, in a hurry.&amp;nbsp; Usually because there is something in it for them.&amp;nbsp; A treat (actually meds wrapped in cheese) or even just some attention.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes, when I yell for &quot;ZEKE&quot;, my hubby hears &quot;Steve&quot; and he answers.&amp;nbsp; :)&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I am in absolute and utter rebellion in this life HE calls my name.&amp;nbsp; We so often forget how God knows our hearts and our feelings.&amp;nbsp; We get angry and upset about whatever has come our way and we don&#39;t want to talk to Him about it.&amp;nbsp; I have been reminded lately though that He already knows how I feel.&amp;nbsp; Whether it be that &quot;this seems unfair&quot; or &quot;I&#39;ve got it under control&quot;....God already knows that&#39;s where we are...and He&#39;s calling our name.&amp;nbsp; He is saying &quot;talk to me&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We think our hearts must be perfect when we come before God.&amp;nbsp; Though we have approached him for salvation, we try to be the &quot;perfect Christian&quot; as we approach his throne.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;He doesn&#39;t need perfect from us as He is the one who perfects us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So we should go to Him with our rebellious hearts and ask Him and share with Him the feelings.&amp;nbsp; Hebrews 4:15 says &quot;For we have not a high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points temped like as we are, yet without sin.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have you ever said, &quot;I wish you understood how I really feel.&quot;&amp;nbsp; &quot;I wish you knew exactly how much I love you.&quot;&amp;nbsp; &quot;I wish you understood.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well &lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HE DOES.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;He knows, He loves, He understands.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;He is calling your name.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;&quot;&gt;want to be like my labs, rumbling in a hurry to see God&#39;s Hand, to see what He has, to get the LOVE that only He is possible to give.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/2811499967146116202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/2811499967146116202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/2811499967146116202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/2811499967146116202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/12/name-calling.html' title='Name Calling'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-aMFNsWwcvXWBcM4gKsP_4fwVl5gjAmLqqaGZ4B4WDO-aY-1Smi0m-nAKTGc5YOyoW-5j54z88auiDntPGqKWlpqHvcW3cpg5GPTvTPdSS0rn7xUWEC-zqXkcoihppbl_k2I8g6bX2j0/s72-c/REBELLION.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-437985447776522754</id><published>2012-12-04T09:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-12-04T09:58:24.582-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unwrapping Tuesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfOacL7ZRXVdBOvC2sVr-ZLnjwByq-mnnWunY5MjgLADgWkkrr6kYGwu0I_EvXPuWzEkAatJbVry4efBA8bQffbRRcHJgQZEUM-IY98WgG1_mGYVuzYcIE1CFb4TUox2wMunPeBVEnZk/s1600/IMG_0004.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfOacL7ZRXVdBOvC2sVr-ZLnjwByq-mnnWunY5MjgLADgWkkrr6kYGwu0I_EvXPuWzEkAatJbVry4efBA8bQffbRRcHJgQZEUM-IY98WgG1_mGYVuzYcIE1CFb4TUox2wMunPeBVEnZk/s320/IMG_0004.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Daffy is my mom and dad&#39;s yellow lab.&amp;nbsp; Daffy is almost human.&amp;nbsp; She knows which presents are hers and she opens them.&amp;nbsp; My chocolate ones....not so much.&amp;nbsp; Nay won&#39;t tear it up, I think she&#39;s a bit OCD.&amp;nbsp; Zeke, he just gets so excited in all the festivities he can&#39;t concentrate on one task!&amp;nbsp; He runs here and there, zig-zag, everywhere!!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today I am taking on the challenge of &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.chattingatthesky.com/2012/12/03/the-kind-of-gift-to-unwrap-early/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;unwrapping Tuesdays.&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; Finding the gifts in today.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes I&#39;m like NayNay and I get a bit OCD and don&#39;t enjoy the little things in life.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes I&#39;m like Zeke and I&#39;m all in a hurry trying to soak &lt;em&gt;everything &lt;/em&gt;up that I miss the little things.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Knowing I would unwrap Tuesday&#39;s gifts my mind has been like Zeke, running all over the place trying to find some awesome gift I could blog about.&amp;nbsp; Hmm, air-conditioner frozen up (we like it cold even in winter), woke up with a headache, should&#39;ve changed lanes earlier because now I&#39;m making people mad trying to squeeze-in so I can turn right.&amp;nbsp; Mornings are never smooth for this night owl.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the end of all my messy thinking I just decide I am so grateful for &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THIS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Christmas.&amp;nbsp; I have had some hard winters.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;For some the Christmas season is when people push away all the hard things and forget about them, but some hard things you have to live every day.&amp;nbsp; You worry that one bad day will lead to a worse day.&amp;nbsp; Your worries consume you.&amp;nbsp; Our home is affected by seasonal depression and Christmas does not allow us to push away this hard thing, we can&#39;t just forget about it for the sake of Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then I think of families I know, those with cancer, those who have been fighting it for years, those who are just now fighting it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Those who are tired of fighting it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Life is hard.&amp;nbsp; And just when you think you are the &quot;good girl&quot; and deserving because you did &quot;good things&quot;&amp;nbsp; you realize you are not deserving of anything.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: purple;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: cyan;&quot;&gt;That God serves you life and as His child your response says what kind of child you are.&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; This is not the life I planned but this is the life God has given me.&amp;nbsp; He knew I could find the gifts in it, He knew I could have the joy.&amp;nbsp; For some reason, this Christmas I am seeing His gifts more than I usually do.&amp;nbsp; It is not something I can point at or even list, but it is a joy that quietly rests within.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So today, when I un-wrap Tuesday, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don&#39;t see anything I can hold in my hand, but I am reminded of Who can hold me in His hand, and I find JOY in tuesday and everyday.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(You can also unwrap tuesdays with me, visit &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.chattingatthesky.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Chatting At the Sky&lt;/a&gt; with Emily Freeman)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/437985447776522754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/437985447776522754' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/437985447776522754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/437985447776522754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/12/unwrapping-tuesday.html' title='Unwrapping Tuesday'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfOacL7ZRXVdBOvC2sVr-ZLnjwByq-mnnWunY5MjgLADgWkkrr6kYGwu0I_EvXPuWzEkAatJbVry4efBA8bQffbRRcHJgQZEUM-IY98WgG1_mGYVuzYcIE1CFb4TUox2wMunPeBVEnZk/s72-c/IMG_0004.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-6155688703774194191</id><published>2012-11-22T22:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-22T22:19:18.924-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ136rJTpANX_UJjBYBYNoUqJpbL-Bn55yUC5QN81U4baTksaH3f4QkgwZxQidRudagUTyeFUmTUe8h3a4boUgRIrk8LWrbB7qfU0y187vOZoKMxVtFvNGlgPj0rO4dU86sVEdJYg10cI/s1600/IMG_0848.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ136rJTpANX_UJjBYBYNoUqJpbL-Bn55yUC5QN81U4baTksaH3f4QkgwZxQidRudagUTyeFUmTUe8h3a4boUgRIrk8LWrbB7qfU0y187vOZoKMxVtFvNGlgPj0rO4dU86sVEdJYg10cI/s320/IMG_0848.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nay stands guard and should anyone approach she WILL BARK and there&#39;s nothing you can do about it!&amp;nbsp; She looks for passers-by, wild animals, and maybe a leaf or two being blow across the yard.&amp;nbsp; All it takes is one distraction though, maybe a snack from a human that will draw her away.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Sometimes your life doesn&#39;t change, but your perspective does.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; You are looking at the same life, the same situation, the same problem and yet you are looking with different eyes.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes our vision becomes blurred while our flesh induces anxiety and worry.&amp;nbsp; We see a problem that is exaggerated by our imaginations.&amp;nbsp; We don&#39;t think on things that are &quot;true, just, lovely or of good report&quot; but we think on possibilities that may not even happen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today I am thankful for God changing my perspective on life.&amp;nbsp; Life is not without it&#39;s trials and sometimes I am like Nay on the edge of my property staring down any problem that might come my way.&amp;nbsp; I thank God though that He has given me a perspective that reminds me of His goodness and His care.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today, I am &lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THANKFUL&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0pd5DfM4IseSnSXcIa9rOEs590mXisFg4LBn2h_U3pyswYXnzz_R6is1_arDaWZcFU1h4hUYIo4Atm6kMOXOfqVrffDaJwV4EuaRZUvwiIgb66ST9bua4nZ64aEDjBQbuPxgS25E2WOQ/s1600/IMG_0736.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0pd5DfM4IseSnSXcIa9rOEs590mXisFg4LBn2h_U3pyswYXnzz_R6is1_arDaWZcFU1h4hUYIo4Atm6kMOXOfqVrffDaJwV4EuaRZUvwiIgb66ST9bua4nZ64aEDjBQbuPxgS25E2WOQ/s320/IMG_0736.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/6155688703774194191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/6155688703774194191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/6155688703774194191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/6155688703774194191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/11/thankful.html' title='Thankful'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ136rJTpANX_UJjBYBYNoUqJpbL-Bn55yUC5QN81U4baTksaH3f4QkgwZxQidRudagUTyeFUmTUe8h3a4boUgRIrk8LWrbB7qfU0y187vOZoKMxVtFvNGlgPj0rO4dU86sVEdJYg10cI/s72-c/IMG_0848.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-380264921349791180</id><published>2012-11-18T14:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-18T14:27:27.185-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Obsessions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAh1pzjRrgey8e_GmOmNM21RsVml4zIHCpciA41PQ1ox6158oOaBcI_8R3tdfn8XiOReRhNpgDUb1_v3ZxB7K70Y5kqAeQv86_xHt6Mu5U5Om-YQOM6ixhQt0AGBHHu1Y7TyYy2dV5to/s1600/iphone+012311+196.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAh1pzjRrgey8e_GmOmNM21RsVml4zIHCpciA41PQ1ox6158oOaBcI_8R3tdfn8XiOReRhNpgDUb1_v3ZxB7K70Y5kqAeQv86_xHt6Mu5U5Om-YQOM6ixhQt0AGBHHu1Y7TyYy2dV5to/s320/iphone+012311+196.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Zeke does not sleep ALL THE TIME. But, when Zeke settles in it is always with me. I know I&#39;ve said this before but he is &quot;MY Dog&quot;. I have heard references to that in other families but never understood it with Nay. Nay is not choosy with her affections, I truly believe she loves Steve and I equally and will basically just go wherever it suits her. It might be because she is a rescue, but it&#39;s probably more because she is a female. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I visit with my parents Zeke will go out to play and romp around the yard with the other dogs, but just give it time...he will come to check on me, make sure I&#39;m still around. If I am downstairs he will run to the room...look at me...and satisfied he will run back to the other dogs. When I get settled in so does Zeke. Being on the furniture is &lt;a href=&quot;http://hackerscreekkennel.com/wordpress/?page_id=270&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Jeff&#39;s&lt;/a&gt; &quot;no-no&quot; (Jeff is Zeke&#39;s even better version of Cesar Millan.) Jeff told us no furniture for Zeke, but I&#39;ve failed in that matter. (Don&#39;t worry Jeff, those things you&#39;ve imprinted in Zeke is still there, he&#39;s still a well-behaved dog!) When I am settled in he is settled in right beside me, on top of me, ALL OVER ME! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I told mom recently that I would be home for the holidays since Steve&#39;s parents are coming for a visit to Indiana. (They usually watch Zeke when we are away).   My mom&#39;s statement was &quot;that&#39;s good, I was worried. I&#39;m not sure Zeke can handle being separated from you.&quot;  Of course we both know that&#39;s not true, but it sure seems like it at times.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh how I need to seek my own Master the way Zeke does.  Almost obsessively.  I&#39;m so thankful Zeke doesn&#39;t have anxiety when I leave but I know he misses me.  Steve has found him in &quot;my spot&quot; when gone for a weekend.  Waiting.  &lt;br /&gt;
Interesting enough it is my God who loved me first and it is my God who waits for me.  I get distracted in life and neglect Him.  If I could just get obsessive about seeking God.  If I could get to where I just can&#39;t get enough!!!  We feed ourselves with the things of God, looking for satisfaction and for what we need to&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; get by&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;...and often times we don&#39;t seek again until we are starving and dry.  If I sought God with the same obsession and intensity Zeke seeks me....if I let it consume my thoughts and my days then I would find myself fulfilled.    Found wanting nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Psalms 23:1 says &quot;The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.&quot;  It is the picture of an animal, following its master and its master fulfilling its needs.  If He is my shepherd, I am satisfied.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/380264921349791180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/380264921349791180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/380264921349791180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/380264921349791180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/11/obsessions_18.html' title='Obsessions'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAh1pzjRrgey8e_GmOmNM21RsVml4zIHCpciA41PQ1ox6158oOaBcI_8R3tdfn8XiOReRhNpgDUb1_v3ZxB7K70Y5kqAeQv86_xHt6Mu5U5Om-YQOM6ixhQt0AGBHHu1Y7TyYy2dV5to/s72-c/iphone+012311+196.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-7755406600053088142</id><published>2012-11-08T17:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-08T17:32:04.595-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bottled Up?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChNgA4nz7VxESeZWDOe49B2MWZE69tK8Zb0hzO1SIxAySU4tJGmJteo_2iSWfTWrTiTdFCR9hSubUEYgAwxD5-o18LpWtpQ4PRRixqW4I0RW0uUU-B-CxiS-KKcnxpFxYSsnzOs4Bo-8/s1600/nsy.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChNgA4nz7VxESeZWDOe49B2MWZE69tK8Zb0hzO1SIxAySU4tJGmJteo_2iSWfTWrTiTdFCR9hSubUEYgAwxD5-o18LpWtpQ4PRRixqW4I0RW0uUU-B-CxiS-KKcnxpFxYSsnzOs4Bo-8/s320/nsy.jpg&quot; width=&quot;213&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Nay is the smallest of all the dogs in our family (I&#39;m including our extended dog family of&amp;nbsp;Daffy, Peyton, Rex as well as Zeke).&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;She is our rescue,&amp;nbsp;sassy and&amp;nbsp;moody.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;She wears her feelings all over every inch of her chocolate body.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;She’s very expressive.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;We use to foster dogs and when we had Samson she peed in his bed.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;When Zeke was crated, she peed in front of his crate.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;It was one of those spots where you could tell she had to back up to do it.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;When she’s scared her whole posture changes, but when my Nay-Nay is happy you can see it from the tip of her tail to the end of her nose.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;It’s like energy coming out of her.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;She walks happy, she sits happy, she almost smiles at you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;When we picked up NayNay from the shelter her name was (and still is) Naomi.&amp;nbsp; Naomi means pleasant and so we thought why not?&amp;nbsp; We kept the name but Steve with all his magical nick-naming skills started calling her NayNay.&amp;nbsp; (Just like he calls Zeke &quot;Zekey-Zoo&quot; he calls her &quot;NayNee-Boo Boo&quot;. And&amp;nbsp; by the way she got that name way before Honey Boo Boo came into the television world!&amp;nbsp; After all she is older than her in both dog years and human years.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Nay makes me ask myself about my own emotions.&amp;nbsp; I remember as a teenager I&#39;d cry very easily.&amp;nbsp; I was sensitive and shy.&amp;nbsp; As a result of all that teenage crying,&amp;nbsp;being an&amp;nbsp;adult I began to bottle things up inside, not wanting to show the weakness I showed as a teen.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes I allow my emotions to govern my relationship with God.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes I bottle up and feel like I have to be tough instead of leaning on HIm for the strength that I might need.&amp;nbsp; As if.....God doesn&#39;t know what&#39;s really going on with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It takes humility to admit it to God.&amp;nbsp; Admit that I need Him.&amp;nbsp; I know it seems silly since He already knows what&#39;s going on inside of me.&amp;nbsp; He can read me far better than I can read Nay.&amp;nbsp; He knows my heart and thoughts, fears and joys.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I can&#39;t bottle it up from Him and when I do I act as if I need not God.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;When Nay is afraid it&#39;s very obvious.&amp;nbsp; She&#39;s scared of storms. She&#39;ll sit on my head to let me know.&amp;nbsp; She&#39;ll follow me around the house.&amp;nbsp; Just like Nay seeks her master I need to remember to always seek my own Master.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/7755406600053088142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/7755406600053088142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/7755406600053088142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/7755406600053088142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/11/bottled-up.html' title='Bottled Up?'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChNgA4nz7VxESeZWDOe49B2MWZE69tK8Zb0hzO1SIxAySU4tJGmJteo_2iSWfTWrTiTdFCR9hSubUEYgAwxD5-o18LpWtpQ4PRRixqW4I0RW0uUU-B-CxiS-KKcnxpFxYSsnzOs4Bo-8/s72-c/nsy.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-5012561888982581481</id><published>2012-11-06T12:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-06T12:45:23.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>142 Reasons to be Thankful</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVuM_6SNPXsDp3wHg0Gv1-4RK9akVGqbuWd5mof_gFRX1zs3bFd2Or_RzzZ6S3sPtXtvqsnW-ILIic0PcD93rx1VNivcEG87vkEVuKOfw4-89mNxGQiV4mWvb0d5u996cHoF86VzUYZmQ/s1600/zekeandnay.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;239&quot; rea=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVuM_6SNPXsDp3wHg0Gv1-4RK9akVGqbuWd5mof_gFRX1zs3bFd2Or_RzzZ6S3sPtXtvqsnW-ILIic0PcD93rx1VNivcEG87vkEVuKOfw4-89mNxGQiV4mWvb0d5u996cHoF86VzUYZmQ/s320/zekeandnay.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
One hundred and forty-two pounds of chocolate!&amp;nbsp; I love and am thankful for these 142 pounds.&amp;nbsp; Actually, it&#39;s probably more than 142 as Zeke has added on a few but we are going to go with their last weigh-ins.&amp;nbsp; (For NayNay&#39;s sake, I won&#39;t tell you how much they weigh individually because she&#39;s a girl and us girls don&#39;t give away each other&#39;s secrets)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The other day I came home and they were outside.&amp;nbsp; I hid in the laundry room and as soon as Steve let them in they ran to me.&amp;nbsp; They could smell me (hopefully I smell good).&amp;nbsp; They knew I was home.&amp;nbsp; They greeted me with a joy only a dog could show.&amp;nbsp; Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.&amp;nbsp; I am attacked by 142 pounds of unconditional love.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some people are taking up the daily challenge of listing their thankfulness every day of the month of November.&amp;nbsp; I have been challenged by &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.aholyexperience.com/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Ann Voskamp&lt;/a&gt; to have 1000 gifts, as thankfulness is linked with joy.&amp;nbsp; I have attempted this count and often lose focus.&amp;nbsp; I have not given up though, I still count here and there.&amp;nbsp; I try to be thankful.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I first started counting I mapped out my plan.&amp;nbsp; If you&#39;ve read my &lt;a href=&quot;http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/p/about-us.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;bio&lt;/a&gt; you will know I am a numbers girl. So I decided that if I do at least 100 gifts a month then I would well reach my goal of 1000 reasons to be thankful by the end of the year.&amp;nbsp; If I am thankful for three things a day then I will reach my goal of 1000 reasons to be thankful by the end of the year.&amp;nbsp; I calculated and calculated.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So then I found myself a robot. (Said in my robot voice).&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Yes, I was losing the purpose of thankfulness when it became&amp;nbsp;just writing a list to write a list.&amp;nbsp; When I would get frustrated that I didn&#39;t&amp;nbsp;reach my goal.&amp;nbsp; So I stopped,&amp;nbsp;I stopped counting.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had to stop counting though, that was my life this year.&amp;nbsp; I had to stop everything and be &lt;a href=&quot;http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/09/silence.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;silent&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;so I could hear God speak because I was letting my voice cloud His voice.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So&amp;nbsp;when everyone started putting &quot;Day One, Day Two, and&amp;nbsp;Day Three...&quot; on facebook.&amp;nbsp; I have chosen not to participate since this girl is crazy enough to let it become a challenge instead of&amp;nbsp;meditation of thankfulness. I&#39;m still trying to figure out how to balance it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am thankful.&amp;nbsp; I am thankful for all your thankfulness on facebook.&amp;nbsp; I read them, I find joy in them, I think of each of your lives as you write them.&amp;nbsp; I know some of your heartaches and trials and some of you know mine and just knowing your reasons to be thankful is contagious.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Debbie&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://aholyexperience.com/&quot; title=&quot;A Holy Experience&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;A Holy Experience&quot; src=&quot;http://www.aholyexperience.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/aholyexperience-badge.png&quot; style=&quot;border: none;&quot; title=&quot;A Holy Experience&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/5012561888982581481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/5012561888982581481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/5012561888982581481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/5012561888982581481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/11/142-reasons-to-be-thankful.html' title='142 Reasons to be Thankful'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVuM_6SNPXsDp3wHg0Gv1-4RK9akVGqbuWd5mof_gFRX1zs3bFd2Or_RzzZ6S3sPtXtvqsnW-ILIic0PcD93rx1VNivcEG87vkEVuKOfw4-89mNxGQiV4mWvb0d5u996cHoF86VzUYZmQ/s72-c/zekeandnay.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-2129537499525668458</id><published>2012-10-28T21:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-28T21:31:20.248-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rule Followers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2t0wm21ESXuCYS2T2mOYuOyYQwM3_8dU63YVPr5CaScnpyEKUAgvnG5bEbCK37XfYGuMeW5uPJDCk6d6EU4tUnARENTI3sV9L88uez5Yo3-mjBp8c1UvYRj81srotlBPS0SBOPy6qLDI/s1600/nayonporch.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2t0wm21ESXuCYS2T2mOYuOyYQwM3_8dU63YVPr5CaScnpyEKUAgvnG5bEbCK37XfYGuMeW5uPJDCk6d6EU4tUnARENTI3sV9L88uez5Yo3-mjBp8c1UvYRj81srotlBPS0SBOPy6qLDI/s320/nayonporch.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nay and I are a lot alike. We like routine and rules and yet we are both
extremely stubborn. NayNay does not like wet grass. I can&#39;t really tell but I
think she tip toes through it. She always cleans her paws before she eats her
peanut butter kong. She requires cheese with her kibble. In fact, she will lay
there all prissy like until she gets it.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;She is predictable. I know what to expect from her. After you&#39;ve lived
with a dog for 8 years it really is like they can talk to you. I know when she
needs water by the way she sits in front of me. I know when she needs love by
the way she looks at me. I know when she doesn&#39;t.....by the way she walks away
from me! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am a &quot;rules&quot; girl. I have lists and I have routine. I drink one
diet mountain dew every morning. I won&#39;t do a u-turn if it says &quot;no
u-turn&quot;. Walking on the grass seems illegal. When I drink a red bull (one
that happens to be sugar-free) I think I&#39;m being edgy. I like having it all
together and letting people think I have it all together.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The truth is....I am not all that I seem....I LOVE to watch television. I have a &quot;People
Magazine&quot; app on my iPhone. When you see me you may not realize there is a
hole in my sock.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;That even though it isn’t
Christmas my socks are probably Santa Claus socks.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I am probably wearing what I have on because
it was hanging in the closet and not on the floor. You don&#39;t realize that halfway
between home and destination I worried about whether or not I turned off the
iron, that I imagine my house burning down with my dogs in it. I may have even
turned around and went home to be sure. Truthfully, I am a complete organized
mess.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I recognize other girls who like to have rules. Though I am not a huge Oprah fan,
she is clearly a rules girl. &lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;She likes things
perfect. She works to perfect that image.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;It almost hurts my head just thinking about how much work that must be
for her, and yet sometimes I live that way. Striving to an image of perfection.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Following the rules.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I must slow at yellow and stop on red. I must park between the lines. I must
color inside the lines. I must read my Bible, pray, and attend church all the
time. I must praise God, always in the storm, never complaining. Then.....I
remember.....I must live by grace. and when I live by grace pleaseing God follows.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No, I won&#39;t always praise Him, walk the line, not complain. At times I will
buckle, and whine and cry. I won&#39;t be perfect because I can&#39;t be perfect. I
have to remember that though I am a &quot;rules&quot; girl, I have a God of
grace and when I live in that grace there is a real peace and happiness that it
isn’t about the rules.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have learned over the last couple of years, through very difficult times,
that it doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks. I don’t live for them. I live
for God and at the end of my life it is HIM that I will answer to, and even
more inspiring than that….there is no other that loves me the way I am like He
does and when I think of How He Loves......then I know grace.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;b&gt;Debbie&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you are a rules girl too then you should read &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.chattingatthesky.com/the-books/grace-for-the-good-girl/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&quot;Grace for the Good Girl&quot; by Emily Freeman&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/2129537499525668458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/2129537499525668458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/2129537499525668458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/2129537499525668458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/10/rules-girls.html' title='Rule Followers'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2t0wm21ESXuCYS2T2mOYuOyYQwM3_8dU63YVPr5CaScnpyEKUAgvnG5bEbCK37XfYGuMeW5uPJDCk6d6EU4tUnARENTI3sV9L88uez5Yo3-mjBp8c1UvYRj81srotlBPS0SBOPy6qLDI/s72-c/nayonporch.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-1251439670986663907</id><published>2012-10-21T00:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-21T00:31:42.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Golden Leaves</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPfxi9H45I9dD2zJ0AX8XJ94AMVOHxujkb-Em_l8bbWKLu7E0Gw9Lx0175lxsJQdk00FWav7LlVRi_LcdhoCExZB1G0UCLnM45X-WzUjCci66XDRZcOsk8BPTJQiR4g7z35pEr4azUUY/s1600/zekeandpeyton.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPfxi9H45I9dD2zJ0AX8XJ94AMVOHxujkb-Em_l8bbWKLu7E0Gw9Lx0175lxsJQdk00FWav7LlVRi_LcdhoCExZB1G0UCLnM45X-WzUjCci66XDRZcOsk8BPTJQiR4g7z35pEr4azUUY/s320/zekeandpeyton.JPG&quot; width=&quot;239&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Peyton, mom and dad&#39;s black lab, and Zeke stand on the porch of my parents&#39; house.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I like to believe they are looking at the tree, but probably not. Most likely they are looking at whatever might be moving.&amp;nbsp; A squirrel, another dog, or possibly a leaf or two being swept across the yard.&amp;nbsp; Whatever happens to be moving around them is what they are looking at.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Can they see what is changing right before their eyes?&amp;nbsp; Can they see the golden leaves? Do they see the miracle?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A tree once bare buds and sprouts green leaves.&amp;nbsp; As time passes the green leaves turn yellow and fall to the ground.&amp;nbsp; The wind blows them away and once again the tree is bare.&amp;nbsp; Bleak.&amp;nbsp; Brown.&amp;nbsp; Cold.&amp;nbsp; Amazingly enough, that bare ugly tree will be green again, and then golden.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do we see the miracle?&amp;nbsp; Or is it that life is moving around us and our focus is on the moving parts?&amp;nbsp; Are we missing the miracle?&amp;nbsp; And when we look and notice the bleak brown tree, do we see the miracle yet to come?&amp;nbsp; The golden leaves?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our eyes, our hearts are consumed with&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;&quot;going-ons&quot; of this world.&amp;nbsp; The day to day duties we must perform. We have to stop and see the&amp;nbsp; miracle.&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes the miracle isn&#39;t seen in today, but it is seen it what today can bring for tomorrow.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
God sees all parts.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He sees our future and what is yet to come.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He sees the&amp;nbsp;&quot;golden leaves&quot; in our future, He made the golden leaves in our future.&amp;nbsp; So when we look around us we have to pause and see HIM.&amp;nbsp; Not the moving parts but the ONE who makes it all work together for His glory.&amp;nbsp; We have to see the golden leaves, we have to see the miracle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/1251439670986663907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/1251439670986663907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/1251439670986663907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/1251439670986663907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/10/golden-leaves.html' title='Golden Leaves'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilPfxi9H45I9dD2zJ0AX8XJ94AMVOHxujkb-Em_l8bbWKLu7E0Gw9Lx0175lxsJQdk00FWav7LlVRi_LcdhoCExZB1G0UCLnM45X-WzUjCci66XDRZcOsk8BPTJQiR4g7z35pEr4azUUY/s72-c/zekeandpeyton.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-5134104735405198058</id><published>2012-10-18T21:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-18T21:16:03.272-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rest Unto Your Souls</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWXT1eFxM8Gpb4_1CpnGCIgkUIWHKDJ9BfFVLrOwQeCdXaPwei39tedzp6vGpD7hccXeM_h1gVVh3T5Zqw1A2EWZEYFKLU6jf383_2-DQAFtNi6L48fh6tegC8nKfNFLQeVMycb3b-V_M/s1600/Zeke+sleeping.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWXT1eFxM8Gpb4_1CpnGCIgkUIWHKDJ9BfFVLrOwQeCdXaPwei39tedzp6vGpD7hccXeM_h1gVVh3T5Zqw1A2EWZEYFKLU6jf383_2-DQAFtNi6L48fh6tegC8nKfNFLQeVMycb3b-V_M/s320/Zeke+sleeping.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You ever watch&amp;nbsp;a dog sleep?&amp;nbsp; NayNay&amp;nbsp;dreams. Her legs move and twitch,&amp;nbsp;once in a while&amp;nbsp;a bark or a yelp.&amp;nbsp; I imagine she is&amp;nbsp;chasing rabbits in her dreams.&amp;nbsp; Zeke, he doesn&#39;t seem to show any signs of dreaming.&amp;nbsp; He just lays like a rock.&amp;nbsp; He will curl up as close as he can possibly get, warm and comforting.&amp;nbsp; He hardly moves.&amp;nbsp; He rests.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I like Matthew 11:29 not just because it says &quot;ye shall find rest&quot; but because it says &quot;ye shall find rest &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;unto your souls&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&quot; When we take His yoke He takes our burden.&amp;nbsp; He does the work.&amp;nbsp; We learn of Him.&amp;nbsp; We learn of Him not just by reading His Word but also by taking His yoke.&amp;nbsp; By allowing Him to carry our burden.&amp;nbsp; I often think about that when I&#39;m stressed out. How if it&#39;s a bag of weights I could just hand it over, and that&#39;s essentially what He wants.&amp;nbsp; Physically handing something over and emotionally handing something over is two different things.&amp;nbsp; When we are able to really give to God our heartaches, it is in this process that we learn of Him.&amp;nbsp; We learn of grace and mercy.&amp;nbsp; We learn that He is powerful and we lack control.&amp;nbsp; We learn to let go and usually it is because we just can&#39;t do it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The best part is though, when&amp;nbsp; you let go....&quot;ye shall find rest &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;unto your souls&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&quot;&amp;nbsp; Not just physical rest, but true and whole rest.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/5134104735405198058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/5134104735405198058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/5134104735405198058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/5134104735405198058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/10/rest-unto-your-souls.html' title='Rest Unto Your Souls'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWXT1eFxM8Gpb4_1CpnGCIgkUIWHKDJ9BfFVLrOwQeCdXaPwei39tedzp6vGpD7hccXeM_h1gVVh3T5Zqw1A2EWZEYFKLU6jf383_2-DQAFtNi6L48fh6tegC8nKfNFLQeVMycb3b-V_M/s72-c/Zeke+sleeping.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-5764199383056458056</id><published>2012-10-13T23:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-13T23:20:34.214-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Purpose for Every Season</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Z35tQx5Q7_of6FYzZ8betF8s_4Fn7u804v2s_OfvzLLb2czXw4MYNBDIoqJVmNvcACAvXZnyD4w1K6YAB4RzhWYKSEawryUxC6q6fTbpGs6Hya9cVh9LcZyg8IUMjXtEejYyKHnOOVQ/s1600/yoohoo.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Z35tQx5Q7_of6FYzZ8betF8s_4Fn7u804v2s_OfvzLLb2czXw4MYNBDIoqJVmNvcACAvXZnyD4w1K6YAB4RzhWYKSEawryUxC6q6fTbpGs6Hya9cVh9LcZyg8IUMjXtEejYyKHnOOVQ/s320/yoohoo.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
Where&#39;s Waldo?&amp;nbsp; It took me forever to get a good picture of Zeke with the flowers.&amp;nbsp; I ran all around the flowers while he did too. He usually ended up on the other side of them, looking at me and laughing.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s odd how when I am still he wants to be right on top of me but when I want him still he runs around like crazy.&amp;nbsp; So in this picture he hid behind the flowers.&amp;nbsp;﻿&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHiHtflL36GFstV2cMRApbxJNIRqkSQNXtJGBfeL0h3If7te0Q2y1uoz2xhzuQYFL85YPzNtwubeiP9ovdJ_G7FMBi0RkLyiJrQeZAsWepsm2a9oAxZBxljhB7SD0MLgV7WC9mJexOuEo/s1600/IMG_0280.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHiHtflL36GFstV2cMRApbxJNIRqkSQNXtJGBfeL0h3If7te0Q2y1uoz2xhzuQYFL85YPzNtwubeiP9ovdJ_G7FMBi0RkLyiJrQeZAsWepsm2a9oAxZBxljhB7SD0MLgV7WC9mJexOuEo/s320/IMG_0280.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
Finally I got him near me and still, and this is him smiling.&amp;nbsp; I said &quot;Sit and smile Zeke!&quot; and this is what he did.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Well, that&#39;s the story we are going to go with.&amp;nbsp; I was browsing through these pictures and saw spring.&amp;nbsp; Why does spring seem like forever ago and forever away?&amp;nbsp; I have always loved the seasons since much of my teenage years I lived in &quot;seasonless&quot; states.&amp;nbsp; (Hawaii and California....and yes I made up that word seasonless).&amp;nbsp;When I see spring and fall I am amazed and the exactness of God&#39;s creation.&amp;nbsp; When I see snow I am reminded of pure beauty.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I often wonder how one can look around and not see God.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
I looked at this picture below and noticed the flowers but that the trees were bare.&amp;nbsp;Today those trees have green, yellow, orange and red leaves....ready to shed for winter.&amp;nbsp; And the seasons keep changing and changing and changing.&amp;nbsp; A cycle that goes on and on.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6MD-2nfQ0bN55PKagprlhn8ZR6Y7X2I277PWX81gHklId7_SOGQ35fdJgkjgGKRFYsLjBS0MpzPe1gWXBPsOxaPYySfzbXZlj_r8J0nOBBvs5dHqPPD4jk6UzVSk4MTUEBnOIFahS9UU/s1600/IMG_0261.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6MD-2nfQ0bN55PKagprlhn8ZR6Y7X2I277PWX81gHklId7_SOGQ35fdJgkjgGKRFYsLjBS0MpzPe1gWXBPsOxaPYySfzbXZlj_r8J0nOBBvs5dHqPPD4jk6UzVSk4MTUEBnOIFahS9UU/s320/IMG_0261.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
Ecclesiastes 3:1 &quot;To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:&quot;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; One thing I can always depend on and that is the sovereignty of God.&amp;nbsp; No matter the changes, the patterns, the age....I can depend on Him.&amp;nbsp; Every season has a purpose.&amp;nbsp; You can see that our world offers many products but as much as pineapple can grow well in Hawaii it does not do as well in Alaska.&amp;nbsp; Corn is everywhere in Indiana and potatoes in Idaho.&amp;nbsp; The farmers wait for seasons because with the seasons come sowing and growing.&amp;nbsp; Rain and harvest.&amp;nbsp; Seasons serve purposes for farmers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
God has a purpose for every season in my life.&amp;nbsp; Whether it is rain or snow, sunshine or clouds...there is purpose for the season I live through.&amp;nbsp; My job?&amp;nbsp; To live a life that exemplifies&amp;nbsp;Him and brings Him glory.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Debbie&lt;/em&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/5764199383056458056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/5764199383056458056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/5764199383056458056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/5764199383056458056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/10/purpose-for-every-season.html' title='Purpose for Every Season'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Z35tQx5Q7_of6FYzZ8betF8s_4Fn7u804v2s_OfvzLLb2czXw4MYNBDIoqJVmNvcACAvXZnyD4w1K6YAB4RzhWYKSEawryUxC6q6fTbpGs6Hya9cVh9LcZyg8IUMjXtEejYyKHnOOVQ/s72-c/yoohoo.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-5748300695270022509</id><published>2012-10-08T21:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-08T21:18:19.635-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Daffy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1815941459MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBm-ZsmVRDTdCxlmNgtHLpmKWgfZ2iWJaKFOxm7_4TM-3yHexHvUKn1298punPcSB6kPOP6LIRWcf3VEUufLwlsuqbdDyRLybDpAiaSh4wJM5fc6hpsictGDqySZSNMNYSisEALORpuY/s1600/daffybed.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBm-ZsmVRDTdCxlmNgtHLpmKWgfZ2iWJaKFOxm7_4TM-3yHexHvUKn1298punPcSB6kPOP6LIRWcf3VEUufLwlsuqbdDyRLybDpAiaSh4wJM5fc6hpsictGDqySZSNMNYSisEALORpuY/s320/daffybed.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;goog_1554912236&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;goog_1554912237&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1815941459MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;As a kid I always wanted a pet.  We had 
Chibi but the time with her was very short-lived since I was allergic to 
her.  One morning I woke up and she was gone.   Dad 
had taken her to a place where she could live out in the country and run wild 
and free.  If you knew Chibi running wild and free was what she 
did, even if it was in our subdivision.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1815941459MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Being a military brat, having pets is 
difficult.  If Dad gets orders to go overseas then transporting 
your pet can be difficult.  You have to quarantine for a time and 
go through paperwork, so after Chibi having a pet was pretty much out of the 
question.   I had gotten it in my mind though that if could find a 
pet that could be caged my parents would allow it.   A mouse was 
cute but it was still a mouse.  A bunny, well that was 
possible.  This began my obsession with getting a bunny 
rabbit.  It never happened but I have a lot of bunny rabbit stuffed 
animals from those days.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1815941459MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;And so when Daffy entered our world everything 
changed.  My brother brought her to my parent’s house (now retired 
from the Marines) and the family was never the same again.  Ten 
years later our family now has a total of four dogs and two cats and none of us 
live on a farm.  We all fell in love with Daffy, how can you 
not?  She is practically human.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1815941459MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;One puppy affected a whole bunch of other 
puppies.  I now have Nay Nay and Zeke.  I can’t help 
but ask myself if I am the kind of Christian that makes other want to be around 
other Christians.  Sure the world isn’t accustomed to the kind of 
lifestyle we may choose to live, but is it possible that my “cup overflowing” 
attracts them to the truth of Christ?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;yiv1815941459MsoNormal&quot; id=&quot;yui_3_2_0_1_13496683542372057&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 10pt;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_2_0_1_13496683542372056&quot; style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;yui_3_2_0_1_13496683542372055&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;It’s hard 
sometimes…overflowing.   It’s hard to reflect the mind of Christ 
when your co-worker is negative and angry and somehow you get the side effects 
of it.  It’s hard when you are hurt and torn up about a trial in 
your life and you insist you have joy, but when you lay your head on your pillow 
at night you think it’s waning away.   I can bring on a smart 
remark if I want to, but do I overflow and display the love of Christ so that 
those around me would respect Christ that I claim to love?  I hope 
so.  I am reminded that as I am loved by Christ, so I must show His 
love to others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Debbie&lt;var id=&quot;yiv1815941459yui-ie-cursor&quot;&gt;&lt;/var&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/5748300695270022509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/5748300695270022509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/5748300695270022509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/5748300695270022509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/10/daffy.html' title='Daffy'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBm-ZsmVRDTdCxlmNgtHLpmKWgfZ2iWJaKFOxm7_4TM-3yHexHvUKn1298punPcSB6kPOP6LIRWcf3VEUufLwlsuqbdDyRLybDpAiaSh4wJM5fc6hpsictGDqySZSNMNYSisEALORpuY/s72-c/daffybed.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-8425765037342975050</id><published>2012-09-13T21:06:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2012-10-14T14:23:01.400-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Silence</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7yLiUVnhmDd5Bre3ADccghvo96Yg71ptQSPMin5guYtgSgpnt_SrwHw6BRi6hWFaZvCxiNp59cP7VB3x3PwIZIL9SnkIv3uMZuKjDN9-b16T2ZO7zY4V8VqSY1eS6LXTQ0AXZm2Juxsg/s1600/winter+11-12+042.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7yLiUVnhmDd5Bre3ADccghvo96Yg71ptQSPMin5guYtgSgpnt_SrwHw6BRi6hWFaZvCxiNp59cP7VB3x3PwIZIL9SnkIv3uMZuKjDN9-b16T2ZO7zY4V8VqSY1eS6LXTQ0AXZm2Juxsg/s320/winter+11-12+042.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;When my dogs hear
something their ears perk up.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;They
listen carefully so they can determine the source of the noise.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Sometimes, Zeke even tilts his head as if
he’s thinking about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Silence….it’s what I
needed.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;So I shut down what noise in my life
that I could.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I shut down my Facebook
and I stopped blogging.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I had to stop
and “listen”.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I had to let my ears perk
up so I could hear what God was telling me.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;Everything was noisy in my life.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;There is pain in
life.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Sometimes that pain makes me twist
and turn, a little uncomfortable.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Like
needles pricking me unexpectedly.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Then
there is the pain that just makes me grumble and complain, the kind that makes
me frustrated and upset with where I am.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;And then there’s pain that silences me.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;I don’t twist and turn, I don’t grumble and complain, I am humbled.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I am aware of my weakness.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;God says “listen” and the pain makes me still.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align=&quot;left&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Calibri;&quot;&gt;Like Zeke I need to perk
up and listen.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;No matter the source of the noise, God has allowed it.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;At first when I listen I hear nothing and
hearing nothing is just more pain.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;But
God said “Be still.”&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;So I continue to
silently listen.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;If I am patient I then
begin to hear what I need.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I hear
grace.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I hear mercy.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I hear hope.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;I hear Jesus.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Jesus calms, Jesus
brings joy.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;With the deepness of every
trial, the deepness of God is revealed to me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;
&lt;/span&gt;His presence is even clearer within, like thick air that surrounds
me.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I imagine as I lay down that I am cradled
in the palm of His hand.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;This is what He
wants.&lt;span style=&quot;mso-spacerun: yes;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;So that he can give grace and be
glorified as I walk forward. &lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/8425765037342975050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/8425765037342975050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/8425765037342975050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/8425765037342975050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/09/silence.html' title='Silence'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7yLiUVnhmDd5Bre3ADccghvo96Yg71ptQSPMin5guYtgSgpnt_SrwHw6BRi6hWFaZvCxiNp59cP7VB3x3PwIZIL9SnkIv3uMZuKjDN9-b16T2ZO7zY4V8VqSY1eS6LXTQ0AXZm2Juxsg/s72-c/winter+11-12+042.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-91316563667142309</id><published>2012-01-16T15:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T15:17:43.579-05:00</updated><title type='text'>PEACE</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifU_z4oVuGZVmJ45-W4ekziaT7D1MDDVsEsdd13aZmt_CTZVqh7IbVFSOY93waxYQmNGZimavgbOcCI2GbVdNgDPt157p4zfLcOIkA2L5PXg-R1mxL0iCF3zSu-cFvqKPja41vMuTgjCg/s1600/winter+11-12+062.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; kba=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifU_z4oVuGZVmJ45-W4ekziaT7D1MDDVsEsdd13aZmt_CTZVqh7IbVFSOY93waxYQmNGZimavgbOcCI2GbVdNgDPt157p4zfLcOIkA2L5PXg-R1mxL0iCF3zSu-cFvqKPja41vMuTgjCg/s320/winter+11-12+062.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I found myself recently waiting at a doctor&#39;s office, flipping through magazines, passing the time.&amp;nbsp; I read an article about an author who chooses a word each year.&amp;nbsp; It is her word for the year.&amp;nbsp; So I felt the challenge. What word do I want for 2012?&amp;nbsp; I battered around in my head several...hope, faith, love...all the good words that seem to dream of more, expect more.&amp;nbsp; Great big gigantic faith, I mean really?&amp;nbsp; What could be better than that.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Truthfully all the words are linked together but I did finally choose a word,&lt;strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;PEACE&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&amp;nbsp; It is something I ask God to help me with.&amp;nbsp; Not just the peace that you get and beg for each day but one that is silent and still.&amp;nbsp; Peace that passeth all understanding, that is consistent and steady.&amp;nbsp; Our emotions often override peace.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACPt4ugEPs5Mbxek4aDU9UrFSSR6VagdeILOgTj78V4h00H0-02TifrTOVDC0zvLbaG6pgBN9Moa4Zwj9ns-npMyvQCfk-VTTMQ5u_T_nBtKdFjohX2R88L6BYQQh6xAFHIuEgYCDwFs/s1600/winter+11-12+110.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; kba=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACPt4ugEPs5Mbxek4aDU9UrFSSR6VagdeILOgTj78V4h00H0-02TifrTOVDC0zvLbaG6pgBN9Moa4Zwj9ns-npMyvQCfk-VTTMQ5u_T_nBtKdFjohX2R88L6BYQQh6xAFHIuEgYCDwFs/s320/winter+11-12+110.JPG&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;God blankets us with peace, like soft snow on hard ground.&amp;nbsp; Yet we let the toils of this world wield it away like snow trucks blasting salt and sand, turning it grey and ugly. Our emotions overtake us and we find ourselves riding the roller coaster of life.&amp;nbsp; &quot;Peace is not the absence of problems but the presence of God.&quot;&amp;nbsp; May I know His presence more abundantly so that steady peace blankets my heart.&amp;nbsp;May 2012 be a year where I know God more and find peace in what He knows for me.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/91316563667142309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/91316563667142309' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/91316563667142309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/91316563667142309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/01/peace.html' title='PEACE'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifU_z4oVuGZVmJ45-W4ekziaT7D1MDDVsEsdd13aZmt_CTZVqh7IbVFSOY93waxYQmNGZimavgbOcCI2GbVdNgDPt157p4zfLcOIkA2L5PXg-R1mxL0iCF3zSu-cFvqKPja41vMuTgjCg/s72-c/winter+11-12+062.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8212089924634074620.post-6337215504631986169</id><published>2012-01-11T22:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-12T11:39:14.928-05:00</updated><title type='text'>He Likes the Broken Pieces</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJchE316shZXhCeP1ZMYt-cT1mGjxqrW6EAhYkqmEtbD5E1T37213rqPTbrk7zd-kFxh32WBf4VU7QG00byzjK8l6qNud1tZGnoXvs4mXA9Vutzv_ucgAj7hZZcNfRuCjfOnXtq_mmowc/s1600/pieces.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; kba=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJchE316shZXhCeP1ZMYt-cT1mGjxqrW6EAhYkqmEtbD5E1T37213rqPTbrk7zd-kFxh32WBf4VU7QG00byzjK8l6qNud1tZGnoXvs4mXA9Vutzv_ucgAj7hZZcNfRuCjfOnXtq_mmowc/s320/pieces.JPG&quot; width=&quot;239&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I was sitting with my mom at her kitchen table.&amp;nbsp; Nay and Zeke were with me.&amp;nbsp; Zeke had found this broken football and took it to my mom to play with her.&amp;nbsp; I told mom, &quot;He likes the broken pieces.&quot;&amp;nbsp; For some reason Zeke likes the broken pieces of his toys.&amp;nbsp; I don&#39;t throw away the spare parts because I know he likes to play with them and bring them to me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh how our God likes the broken pieces.&amp;nbsp; Broken lives, broken hearts, broken homes....He loves to take the broken pieces and make them whole, make them used for His glory.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are broken through difficult things in life.&amp;nbsp; We are broken because of our own sin.&amp;nbsp; We are broken because of the trial we are facing.&amp;nbsp; We are broken because.....of so many things.&amp;nbsp; You might think of where you are broken.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am so glad God likes the broken pieces.&amp;nbsp; That he DELIGHTS in mercy.&amp;nbsp; That though I am all broke inside...lacking faith, lacking communion, lacking in prayer....that God loves me anyways.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity, and passeth by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage?&amp;nbsp; he retaineth not his anger for ever, because he delighteth in mercy.&amp;nbsp; He will turn again, he will have compassion upon us, he will subdue our iniquities; and thou will cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.&quot;&amp;nbsp; Micah 7:18-19</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/feeds/6337215504631986169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/8212089924634074620/6337215504631986169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/6337215504631986169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8212089924634074620/posts/default/6337215504631986169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nevertoomuchchocolate.blogspot.com/2012/01/he-likes-broken-pieces.html' title='He Likes the Broken Pieces'/><author><name>Debbie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01514496219453734216</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJchE316shZXhCeP1ZMYt-cT1mGjxqrW6EAhYkqmEtbD5E1T37213rqPTbrk7zd-kFxh32WBf4VU7QG00byzjK8l6qNud1tZGnoXvs4mXA9Vutzv_ucgAj7hZZcNfRuCjfOnXtq_mmowc/s72-c/pieces.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>