<?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-5947445003473597252</id><updated>2024-09-13T03:42:26.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fully Present in the Moment</title><subtitle type='html'>A journey from the darkness of OCD to God&#39;s freedom and living in the light. Living an authentic life while remaining fully present in the moment.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>76</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-7138018746115475842</id><published>2015-10-15T19:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2015-10-15T19:34:45.201-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the day i forgot to eat vanilla yogurt for breakfast...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBL9QIBo_Bekbg7zilmSCIK3A67tCNsquyLYVC6-1c98cl4l61tRbM0R2c1GMMV-hWucrvUJZtGx8jZ0p-_-2H4Kfso4haUYEloGPuXC900FjuX1_7Dn_IKwnmO9bw1uo6WLed7AsrN6Ab/s1600/really+soooo+OCD.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 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/AVvXsEiBL9QIBo_Bekbg7zilmSCIK3A67tCNsquyLYVC6-1c98cl4l61tRbM0R2c1GMMV-hWucrvUJZtGx8jZ0p-_-2H4Kfso4haUYEloGPuXC900FjuX1_7Dn_IKwnmO9bw1uo6WLed7AsrN6Ab/s320/really+soooo+OCD.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #999999; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: cyan;&quot;&gt;I hear it all the time; &quot;I like things organized, I&#39;m so OCD&quot; or &quot;I have to have a clean house, I&#39;m so OCD&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #999999; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: cyan;&quot;&gt;You don&#39;t hear people casually saying things like &quot;I&#39;m going bald, I&#39;m so cancer&quot; or &quot;Im gaining/loosing weight, I&#39;m so diabetic&quot;. Why do we think we can casually use OCD as an adjective?!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #999999; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;color: cyan;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #999999; color: cyan;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;&quot;&gt;If you know me well, you know my story. You may even be one of the few people who know the deepest darkest parts of my story. You may be one of the people who sat with me while I cried or waited out one of the compulsive monsters that I battle daily. You may be a person who doesn&#39;t understand me. You think I can just &quot;snap out of it&quot; or that I&#39;m crazy. Maybe you are the person who casually says &quot;I&#39;m so OCD&quot; like it&#39;s a changing style or honor badge.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;&quot;&gt;Maybe you love someone with OCD and you have asked me questions about how to support them, (I love when you do that by the way).You might even be the person who notices silly things like how I always sit in the same place or go in a certain door.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;&quot;&gt;You laughed at/with me as I label things. You see my love for&amp;nbsp;organization&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;&quot;&gt;. You may have even noticed all the bible verses on post it notes I have in my car and in my house. Maybe you don&#39;t understand how someone who looks like they have it all together could be paralyzed in fear of people coughing and sneezing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #999999; color: cyan;&quot;&gt;When you have boxed up an entire apartment to help your sister move because counting has overtaken her brain you might understand how paralyzing it is to be &quot;sooo OCD.&quot;&amp;nbsp;Until you have bandaged split, raw, picked at hands or come into your daughters house to open the blinds and make her walk around the block, you don&#39;t know what it&#39;s like to be &quot;soooo OCD.&quot; The day you hold me while I sob on the couch afraid to go away for a weekend. Or when I&#39;m away on a trip and warn others about not touching my bed, might be the moment when you start to understand the exhaustion of being &quot;sooo OCD&quot;. Or when you are frustrated with me because all I do is sleep. Or when you have to drive me home because I can&#39;t handle the mall. When you eat at the same place for weeks because my brain is stuck. You don&#39;t know what it&#39;s like to be &quot;sooo OCD&quot; until you have sat across from me encouraging me to take just one bite and then another because the fears are suffocating me. Unless you can&#39;t shower for days or shower 4 times a day, you don&#39;t know how time consuming it is to be &quot;sooo OCD.&quot; When you arrive early to counseling in case the right parking spot isn&#39;t free and you have to drive around the parking lot till your spot is open, you don&#39;t know how frustrating being &quot;sooo OCD&quot; feels. It&#39;s when you love your wife so much that you can sit across from her while she explains all the bad things that happened because she didn&#39;t eat vanilla yogurt for breakfast and say you don&#39;t understand it but it&#39;s going to be okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #999999; color: cyan;&quot;&gt;I am thankful for a husband, brother, parents, counselors, cousins, aunts and friends who support me while I fight the OCD monstor that can easily consume me. They know why it hurts me when I hear people flippantly say &quot;I&#39;m sooo OCD.&quot; They also know I am not defined by OCD.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #999999; color: cyan;&quot;&gt;For me and the estimated 1 in 100 people who really are &quot;sooo OCD&quot; please think before you speak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/7138018746115475842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-day-i-forgot-to-eat-vanilla-yogurt.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/7138018746115475842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/7138018746115475842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2015/10/the-day-i-forgot-to-eat-vanilla-yogurt.html' title='the day i forgot to eat vanilla yogurt for breakfast...'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBL9QIBo_Bekbg7zilmSCIK3A67tCNsquyLYVC6-1c98cl4l61tRbM0R2c1GMMV-hWucrvUJZtGx8jZ0p-_-2H4Kfso4haUYEloGPuXC900FjuX1_7Dn_IKwnmO9bw1uo6WLed7AsrN6Ab/s72-c/really+soooo+OCD.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-616970426090479295</id><published>2015-07-10T23:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2015-07-11T20:23:54.837-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Youth Pastor&amp;#39;s Wife</title><content type='html'>Never say never. When I was a teenager I remember saying I&#39;m never gonna marry a pastor when I grow up. More dangerous words were never spoken. Let me tell ya that&#39;s crazy talk folks. Never say never cause that may be the exact thing God has planned for your life and that&#39;s exactly what happened to me.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div&gt;It hit me last night while worshiping with 6,500 teenagers that this is what I said I didn&#39;t want as a teenager. I didn&#39;t want to marry a pastor, and that&#39;s exactly what happened. Kinda funny how God works. &amp;nbsp;As I stood besides my youth pastor hubby and our teens singing &quot;we just want to see you move, Lord do what you want to, do what you want to do.&quot; We sang words like &quot;Lord I come, and I confess, bowing here I find my rest. Lord I need you, oh I need you. Every hour I need you.&quot; What an unforgettable experience and truly the cry of my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Averaging five hours a sleep each night this week brings a whole new meaning to the words &quot;I need you, every hour I need you.&quot; They say confession is good for the soul, so this tired youth pastors wife has a few things to confess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I hate icebreaker and group games. I understand the point behind these &quot;getting to know you&quot; youth group staples but this introvert can&#39;t handle it and so I will be on the sidelines with the other introverts who hate the games.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I actually love pizza for dinner but not when it comes from the place that gives churches a &quot;good deal&quot; and is served cold and has been touched by hands that have been who knows where.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-The youth budget is never big enough and we usually end up spending way more money out of pocket to make that event happen than our personal budget can handle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Parents, when you complain that trips cost too much money or want to know when the next fundraiser is I totally get it. I&#39;m pinching pennies too and I&#39;m right here fundraising because my way isn&#39;t paid for...but we have to have a female sponsor...so I&#39;m fundraising right there with you. So please stop complaining.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-On youth trips I get up super early. Sometimes this is the only way to guarantee a hot shower but I gullet up before the other girls mainly because I spend these quiet moments of the morning alone praying for our teens by name.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-As a youth pastors wife I have to confess there are times in youth ministry when it would be so much easier to just stay home. The human, overly tired side of me often has to bite my tongue, count to 10 or look for the closest Starbucks. I love teens anyways. I love them despite of their negativity, silly fads, and complaining. I just love and drink lots of coffee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Sometimes I get more out of the message than any of our teens. I&#39;m always so proud of my hubby when I hear him speak from the heart. He has a heart that loves God and loves others.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-My hubby has way more patience with teenagers than I do. He knows how to get them all pumped up, how to plan a great event on a shoestring budget. He can fill up water balloons, gets excited about meeting teens and eating sushi and mentoring them over a cup of coffee. He will stop what he&#39;s doing and answer their texts, he goes to their games, plays and even dance recitals. I am a little embarrassed to admit that sometimes I think I can do his job better, but reality is that I can&#39;t. I can&#39;t even come close because God called him to this ministry, not me. As his wife I want to support him even when I want to run far away from junior highers I stand with him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I see the hurt and pain that comes with the unseen hidden sides of youth ministry. I cry and hurt when I hear the stories of the broken parts of teenagers lives. When they confide in me and tell me things they don&#39;t want anyone to know. When my hubby questions if that event was fun enough, when he feels dissapointed in the number of teens there on wednesdsy and when he gets frustrated with the youth workers who just stop coming or when parents complain. We hurt too. And we often don&#39;t have someone to confide in and complain to. So sometimes we hold it all in. Sometimes we quit doing ministry all together and sometimes we hang on for dear life. Sometimes I get to sit down with other youth pastors wives and hear their stories, cry with them and then say &quot;just keep moving forward&quot;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So on the last night of this youth trip I&#39;m asking that if you are reading this you would pray for me and all the fellow youth pastors wives out there. Pray for us and our husbands, pray we keep moving forward. Pray we show Gods love in a real authentic life changing way to the teens around us. We could use a little sleep, patience, and a Carmel macchiato wouldn&#39;t hurt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Here&#39;s to being fully present in the moment even with bags under my eyes&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaaZR0IWGz6qcBunOqR6j-mKn0dxHabfRMD1F8iNTkWhKCc9Ddw0vf-TRr554sh7c5cdstIa6_hF2OUSmf98n-OP4VH5BnXfcrf9X4pSbaUiPmYs8RvZ3hNGbi_Q2ssf9_8bqFa21QKAep/s640/blogger-image--683963512.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/AVvXsEhaaZR0IWGz6qcBunOqR6j-mKn0dxHabfRMD1F8iNTkWhKCc9Ddw0vf-TRr554sh7c5cdstIa6_hF2OUSmf98n-OP4VH5BnXfcrf9X4pSbaUiPmYs8RvZ3hNGbi_Q2ssf9_8bqFa21QKAep/s640/blogger-image--683963512.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZV6BspmjXCbMRmwqMx7dPSZEX1LkR1ug2iZ_XWsqJB8Z6kybhvkeJVosVwt4Dq755BNSmVLLuTID8exy-FdPP3KWG-19vE_M4KvXjEnSYJyxhcNcPnOOgRSImp7fLCi6xe7SSahbpkzWH/s640/blogger-image--518957958.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/AVvXsEgZV6BspmjXCbMRmwqMx7dPSZEX1LkR1ug2iZ_XWsqJB8Z6kybhvkeJVosVwt4Dq755BNSmVLLuTID8exy-FdPP3KWG-19vE_M4KvXjEnSYJyxhcNcPnOOgRSImp7fLCi6xe7SSahbpkzWH/s640/blogger-image--518957958.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/616970426090479295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2015/07/confessions-of-youth-pastor-wife.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/616970426090479295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/616970426090479295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2015/07/confessions-of-youth-pastor-wife.html' title='Confessions of a Youth Pastor&amp;#39;s Wife'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaaZR0IWGz6qcBunOqR6j-mKn0dxHabfRMD1F8iNTkWhKCc9Ddw0vf-TRr554sh7c5cdstIa6_hF2OUSmf98n-OP4VH5BnXfcrf9X4pSbaUiPmYs8RvZ3hNGbi_Q2ssf9_8bqFa21QKAep/s72-c/blogger-image--683963512.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-4153255233840931868</id><published>2015-07-09T11:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2015-07-09T17:15:01.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stair counting, sleeping bag, &amp;amp; selfies...</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m the first to admit I love &quot;Nazarene World&quot; and being with 6,500 nazarene teens this week at Nazarene Youth Conference I&#39;m experiencing so many emotions. It&#39;s amazing how I attended NYC in 1999 as a teenager and now in 2015 I&#39;m here with my youth pastor hubby and our C3 teens.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Overnight trips have a way of triggering my OCD monster yet I am amazed how the Lord has given me peace in the midst of my OCD demons. As we sit in the van waiting to go to our work site I can actually say I&#39;m having a good time. I&#39;m definitely missing my miracle baby and can tell you there are 46 stairs from where we park our van and the hotel lobby. If you don&#39;t know counting is an OCD villian for me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you or someone you love has OCD you know there are certain triggers that can cause the obsessive thoughts to derail into compulsive actions. For me traveling and being away from home is a major trigger. I remember crying for hours before every youth trip I went on in as a teenager. Fearful of the unknown, sleeping in an unfamiliar place and all the germs that were out to get me paralyzed me. &amp;nbsp;Over time I have learned what I need to do in preparation for a trip and during a trip to make life a little easier. One of my favorite things is my sleeping bag. It is the most wonderful thing and helps me sleep away from home. Like a force field of sorts. I love it and the girls in our youth group know not to touch it. I&#39;m thankful for &amp;nbsp;understanding teens who just look at me like I&#39;m crazy. &quot;You do you, Ashley&quot; one of them said nonchalantly when I pulled it out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I&#39;m thankful for a hubby who knows me and loves me anyways. His random &quot;are you okay?&quot; questions, good night texts, and selfies make life interesting and make me feel loved.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is good. God is greater than all my fears and is much bigger than any disorder, especially OCD. I am thankful for a God who brings freedom to the captives and restores the broken parts of lives, especially mine.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I pray that God uses me and this blog to help others know that in Christ there is freedom! I want more than anything for the teens in our youth ministry to experience God&#39;s freedom this week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Im being fully present in the moment...even when surrounded by 6,500 teenagers!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/4153255233840931868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2015/07/stair-counting-sleeping-bag-selfies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/4153255233840931868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/4153255233840931868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2015/07/stair-counting-sleeping-bag-selfies.html' title='Stair counting, sleeping bag, &amp;amp; selfies...'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-2457852654112646053</id><published>2015-07-06T16:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2015-07-06T16:22:52.879-05:00</updated><title type='text'>&amp;quot;Please put your mask on first and then assist your daughter.&amp;quot;</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I&lt;b&gt;t seems like everyone around me is buying a house, having a baby, or both. Why does it seem like just when I feel at peace in my heart and settled in my mind about my life things creep up to distract me from the peace I have? Feelings of loneliness flood my heart and mind. Doubt, fear and uncertainty creep in and feed these lies of insecurity. Help me God! Help my focus to be on the certainty I find in you. My identity and self esteem can&#39;t be found in on Facebook, Pinterest or Instagram, but is only in Christ alone. Comparison is the thief of joy. I need my joy again. Help me to &quot;be still and know that I am God&quot; Psalm 46:10&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are the words I wrote in my journal on May 28, 2015 after a cry fest. I had only been off work (for the summer) for 6 days and was feeling the OCD monster rearing it&#39;s ugly head. The fun of sleeping in only lasts a couple days in my world and lack of routine is very dangerous. With Addyson still finishing preschool and thinking ahead to the 5 trips that would make up for a busy summer. I remember crawling back into bed and crying alone. This can be a dangerous slippery slope for me but looking back it was so very much needed. Out of that pain I wrote the above words and prayed that God would get my attention in a very real and raw way this summer. This is a scary thing to pray for and as a word of caution, don&#39;t ever pray for this unless you are ready for God to show up in a life changing way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fast forward a couple weeks and after attending our church&#39;s district assembly and senior high youth camp Addyson and I were on our way to Michigan for a week with Poppy and GMama while Andy spent a week at junior high camp. I was so looking forward to a little down time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That&#39;s when it happened. God got my attention in a real way! As we waited in the airplane for take off, the flight attendant came to our row and in a nonchalant almost robotic way said to me &quot;please put your mask on first and then assist your daughter.&quot; She walked away almost as quickly as she spoke and &amp;nbsp;within minutes the safety instructions began and we took off for Michigan. It wasn&#39;t until we got into the air that it really hit me. Obviously the point of her statement is that in an emergency and if the oxygen masks were needed, in order for me to really be able to help my child, I would need to be alive, and I would have to put my mask on first. I have flown many times with Addyson and never once had the flight attendant personally tell me to put my mask on first, but I know that this statement was made to me for a reason.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I get so caught up in taking care of everything and everyone that I neglect to take care of the important things. I&#39;m easily susceptible of doing good things and serving others yet neglecting to make time for me and God. There is always something to do, mommy duties to fulfill, something to clean or a bill to pay and at the end of the day I think what just happened? Where did the time go?&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;I get caught in the comparison trap and sticky &quot;I&#39;m not good enough&quot; web of lies and neglect the truth.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Being intentional about spending time in Gods word, talking to Him, listening to Him and being fully present in His presence is what my heart is really longing for.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now that&#39;s it&#39;s July and we are leaving tomorrow for our 5th and final trip of the summer, I am more determined than ever to make sure to &quot;put my mask on first&quot;. I recognize now more than ever that in order for me to really be a good Mom, wife, youth leader, and person who serves and loves the Kingdom I have to take care of me first. I have to make my relationship with Christ more of a priority than any of the other relationships or people in my life. This is the only way I will ever have a heart like Christ and love like He loved. This is the only way I can be effective in helping others.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;To be fully present I have to begin with being fully present in God&#39;s presence.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/2457852654112646053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2015/07/put-your-mask-on-first-and-then-assist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/2457852654112646053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/2457852654112646053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2015/07/put-your-mask-on-first-and-then-assist.html' title='&amp;quot;Please put your mask on first and then assist your daughter.&amp;quot;'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-6608598965259711366</id><published>2015-06-23T15:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2015-06-23T15:18:45.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'>&amp;quot;This is amazing!&amp;quot;</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk6WJ9n5aLchufFXTY1mKsYyTBB4o1QI1gC3o_v-FXERKNkfckIyE_1etcnEViCJgEsd5PzijCqE7az9bt-zveMtepOV-n5VpKRp1KxIB8rzloMSmdz5HAQBP6tAsgf0G0km9YuL-PY3-s/s640/blogger-image--610011652.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/AVvXsEhk6WJ9n5aLchufFXTY1mKsYyTBB4o1QI1gC3o_v-FXERKNkfckIyE_1etcnEViCJgEsd5PzijCqE7az9bt-zveMtepOV-n5VpKRp1KxIB8rzloMSmdz5HAQBP6tAsgf0G0km9YuL-PY3-s/s640/blogger-image--610011652.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;In a perfect world there would be no car problems, no check engine lights, no oil changes and no flat tires. Nothing stresses me out more then car problems, computer problems or a baby sick in the middle of the night.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;In the midst of two teen camps and an upcoming trip to Boston for a wedding that pesky little check engine light came on in our car. It&#39;s the light that tells you you maintenance is required but the thing is (hopefully) there is nothing required for this car... it just has a faulty check engine light. In the lovely state of Tennessee emissions testing is required and of course cars don&#39;t pass that have check engine lights on. If only they let me explain to them &quot;hey this car drives great, gets me where I need to go; oh yeah just has a light that seems to stay on&quot;. We would be okay but of course my registration for the car expires while we&#39;re out of town and needless to say life in youth ministry during June is a busy time so the day before we leave it has to be taken care of. Thankfully we know a guy who knows more about cars than we do and can temporarily fix the check engine light to get the car passed through emissions. With our quickly approaching trip I knew I only had today to get it done.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;I woke up dreading this day and in a somewhat in a grumpy mood knowing that my plans would all be put aside to get the car taken care of. Little did I know I would experience a joy filled moment with my miracle baby Addyson. So I packed up a cooler with water and snacks, we put on our bathing suits, grabbed towels and headed to get the car fixed. &amp;nbsp;Thankfully within walking distance from the auto shop is the new rec center that has a great pool. Since &amp;nbsp;we been busy all summer and hadn&#39;t had a chance to try it out, today seemed to be the perfect time and I was determined not to let the car issue ruin our day. We dropped off the car and set out for the walk to the pool looking at passing cars trucks and going through a few bumps when the sidewalk ended. Addyson thought it was the greatest adventure but the true moment of joy didn&#39;t happen until we arrived at the pool. Of course being the OCD mama that I am I was a little nervous with all the kids splashing and playing with excitement and bummed that I couldn&#39;t find a shady spot for the stroller and our stuff. A dad and daughter made room for us and we quickly applied sunscreen and cooled off in the pool.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;We played and Addyson &amp;nbsp;splashed in excitement, with each moment as she saw other kids swimming underwater, she was determined to give it a try. So with her only experience of the mommy and me swim lesson that she took last year, a bunch of courage and my squeezing my nervous hand she dunked her little head under the water over and over again. This girl has no fear! How could she be my daughter? We swam and played together and then it happened. She dunked her head under and popped up with her goggle eyes she looked up with a huge grin on her face and smiled as she said &quot;mama this is amazing&quot;. &amp;nbsp;It was in that moment that God grabbed my attention this truly was an amazing moment, a fully present in the moment moment. A moment I could have missed if it wasn&#39;t for the check engine light coming on.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;I could easily turn this post into a &lt;i&gt;do you need to check your engine? is God your copilot? &lt;/i&gt;blog&amp;nbsp;post. But if I&#39;m really honest, &amp;nbsp;I needed a mommy check engine light to come on and remind me that each moment and day I have with Addyson comes and goes so quickly. I have to cherish the unexpected things in life and recognize them through her eyes. Through her eyes my OCD monster backs down and I can realize how amazing life is. Sometimes the moment is ruined by getting water up your nose or the lifeguards whistle for adult swim but those are just moments to stop and restart or rest.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;So this slightly sunburnt mama is cherishing the maintenance required light and is living fully present in this amazing moment.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQh9n9fmCqf4MbV5Z-EhsMsuOA6rRLOC8MjzVS07iJZU1HZsCJJHsD9zEDtlClHhvLtRWPYkWkCKDBzxIhYk1W4a6UmRnJfUWdcMTJCZKjVc4N3hExMGNa-y8YHGZab-QKZBjf0ljHPYyW/s640/blogger-image-393934434.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/AVvXsEgQh9n9fmCqf4MbV5Z-EhsMsuOA6rRLOC8MjzVS07iJZU1HZsCJJHsD9zEDtlClHhvLtRWPYkWkCKDBzxIhYk1W4a6UmRnJfUWdcMTJCZKjVc4N3hExMGNa-y8YHGZab-QKZBjf0ljHPYyW/s640/blogger-image-393934434.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/6608598965259711366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2015/06/is-amazing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/6608598965259711366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/6608598965259711366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2015/06/is-amazing.html' title='&amp;quot;This is amazing!&amp;quot;'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk6WJ9n5aLchufFXTY1mKsYyTBB4o1QI1gC3o_v-FXERKNkfckIyE_1etcnEViCJgEsd5PzijCqE7az9bt-zveMtepOV-n5VpKRp1KxIB8rzloMSmdz5HAQBP6tAsgf0G0km9YuL-PY3-s/s72-c/blogger-image--610011652.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-215716076435475259</id><published>2015-04-11T22:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2015-04-11T22:07:36.661-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You are not alone!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;I sat in my car crying as Addyson repeated &quot;sing Mama, sing Mama&quot; from the back seat. My oversized sunglasses hid the salty tears that steamed down my sunburnt face. Lonely is the best way to describe how I felt sitting there in the Target parking lot. I text my hubby who was busy with teens at a youth event and tried to put my week long stuffed down feelings into words that made sense in a text.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;This week I have faced one of the most challenging work situations of my career. In my nearly 10 years as a MSW I have faced a lot of &quot;stuff&quot; but this will probably go down as the most challenging...and unfortunately the challenge is only beginning.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;I have questioned a lot this week and have felt incredibly lonely. I have talked with friends this week who are broken hearted, overwhelmed, facing painful grief and forced to be strong in the most painful moments. I hate the feeling of not being able to do anything to help a hurting friend but to pray. I&#39;m a fixer, I&#39;m a helper, I want to make it all better. Unsure of what to say, I have listened and then cried in the private moments of my day. I have felt more alone.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;I spend a lot of my day driving and I have found great comfort in the words of this Kari Jobe song. I have actually heard it everyday on the radio at some point in my day for the past two weeks. It&#39;s funny how The Lord works. It didn&#39;t hit me till today that The Lord wanted to bring healing to my lonely soul through these lyrics.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;So...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;To my broken hearted teacher friend mourning the loss of your young students life...you are not alone.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;To my new mommy friends trying to make sense of this new baby world...you are not alone.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;To my grieving friend facing another loss...you are not alone.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;To my fellow exausted and sleep deprived moms...you are not alone.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;To my fellow pastors wives facing a tiring day of ministry tomorrow...you are not alone.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;To my friends facing another disappointment...you are not alone.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-align: center; font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; text-align: center; font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;To whoever is reading this through tear filled eyes right now...you are not alone.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;As I sat in the Target parking lot with Addyson in the back seat, i am so thankful I was able to hear this song again today at just the right time. Through year filled eyes I sang these words:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 1em; font-family: Verdana, Arial;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: 1em;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&quot;I Am Not Alone&quot; (Kari Jobe)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;When I walk through deep waters&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border: 0px none; margin: 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;I know that You will be with me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;When I&#39;m standing in the fire&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;I will not be overcome&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Through the valley of the shadow&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;I will not fear&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;I am not alone&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;I am not alone&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;You will go before me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;You will never leave me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;In the midst of deep sorrow&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;I see Your light is breaking through&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;The dark of night will not overtake me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;I am pressing into You&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Lord, You fight my every battle&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;And I will not fear&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;You amaze me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Redeem me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;You call me as Your own&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;You&#39;re my strength&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;You&#39;re my defender&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;You&#39;re my refuge in the storm&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Through these trials&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;You&#39;ve always been faithful&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;You bring healing to my soul&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;&quot;&gt;Thankful for the promise of dueteronomy 31:8 and to serve a God who goes before me and is with me always.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Living fully present in the moment.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: start;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/215716076435475259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2015/04/you-are-not-alone.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/215716076435475259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/215716076435475259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2015/04/you-are-not-alone.html' title='You are not alone!'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-1180460703718795665</id><published>2014-12-03T22:15:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2014-12-03T22:15:47.436-06:00</updated><title type='text'>God is &amp;gt;</title><content type='html'>I sat in a classroom today observing a student with behavior problems as the teacher taught the math concept of &quot;greater than&quot; and &quot;less than&quot;. Usually when I&#39;m observing a student and collecting data I am super focused on the student, carefully tracking their behaviors in an attempt to develop a behavior plan to help them be successful at school. I love this part of my job and find sitting in classrooms really interesting. At times I get distracted by the teachers cutesy themes, piles of papers or by the kiddo not on my caseload who probably should be.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today smack dab in the middle of a math lesson I was distracted and God spoke to me. As the teacher drew the &amp;gt; ( greater than) and &amp;lt; (less than) signs on the board it hit me. God is greater than. I began thinking of all the things in my life that God is &amp;gt;.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; my fear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; my OCD.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; my insecurities.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; church drama.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; my bank account.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; my family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; worries about the future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; disappointment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; car problems.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; toddler tantrums.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; addiction.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; health problems.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; grief.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; work stress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; my failures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; my best friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; flat tires.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; test results.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is &amp;gt; my doubt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At first a few &quot;God is greater than&quot; statements came to mind but on my drive home the list kept growing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;During the math lesson I observed, &amp;nbsp;I didn&#39;t know that a few hours later I would get some shocking news. Not a life or death thing, but still news that makes you stop in your tracks. I was reminded of the &amp;gt; symbol the teacher wrote on the board. God is greater than bad news!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We serve a greater than God. No matter what you are facing today, know that God is greater.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Live fully present in the moment knowing that God is &amp;gt; (fill in the blank).&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/1180460703718795665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/12/god-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/1180460703718795665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/1180460703718795665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/12/god-is.html' title='God is &amp;gt;'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-2784125154664045498</id><published>2014-12-02T00:10:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2014-12-02T00:10:17.549-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pinterest Perfection</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/AVvXsEjon6zFESisF8wANU4RvG9wTDcD1D6yd4hhyphenhyphenJsBKEaXMX5__yAWMKG-xAb10jaoqx3AtauShmtyJPpSN0dbp0DO3cMMfsSc2XAIgzJV5ZNQA5Eb61PVY0OPbxsXgX7esk_FzP0QfJJ36TeZ/s1600/swing+pic.bmp&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; closure_lm_833628=&quot;null&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjon6zFESisF8wANU4RvG9wTDcD1D6yd4hhyphenhyphenJsBKEaXMX5__yAWMKG-xAb10jaoqx3AtauShmtyJPpSN0dbp0DO3cMMfsSc2XAIgzJV5ZNQA5Eb61PVY0OPbxsXgX7esk_FzP0QfJJ36TeZ/s1600/swing+pic.bmp&quot; eta=&quot;true&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I have a love/hate relationship with Pinterest. &lt;br /&gt;
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A friend of mine recently posted a picture of her Pinterest fail. You know the hilarious attempts at recreating the picture perfect Pinterest creations that go wrong. It got me thinking about the many imperfections in my own life.&lt;br /&gt;
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This time of year especially, has me fully aware of my imperfections. As I look for the perfect Christmas gifts, plan the prefect party, and worst of all...create the prefect Christmas card, I am fully aware of my not so perfect pinterest life. Last year we had an amazing professional and talented photographer friend gift us with family pictures. Each photo was natural yet perfectly posed and edited to beautifully capture my little family of three. I was so excited to create the prefect Christmas card and send it to &lt;strike&gt;all my friends&lt;/strike&gt; my family who keep and frame the photo each year. This year we will have an unedited &lt;i&gt;fully present in the moment&lt;/i&gt; photo for our Christmas card. I&#39;m a little embarassed to admit it, but now that I&#39;m back on facebook...I am embarassed that we didn&#39;t budget for the traditional color coordinated, perfectly posed photo shoot with the changing leaves in the background to compete with all the other pinterest worthy Christmas cards. &lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m the first to admit I spend way too much time scrolling through Pinterest pinning recipes I will never make, pinning articles that catch my attention but not long enough to fully read and looking our outfit ensembles that are way beyond my goodwill budget. The mindless scrolling is entertaining, but also causes me to conceal my imperfections.&lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m also a fan if instagram but before I post a pic I make sure the piles of laundry aren&#39;t in the background exposing my imperfect housekeeping abilities. Sucking in the post baby belly in an attempt to look skinnier than my &quot;soft&quot; body as described by my now three year old &quot;baby&quot;. I take and retake pics to show my miracle baby with her cutest smile as if the fact that her life is a miracle isn&#39;t enough. &lt;br /&gt;
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Reality is we all do it! We put our best pics out there for the world to see hiding the imperfections of our lives. I am more and more convinced that I can&#39;t talk about being fully present in the moment if I&#39;m not embracing the imperfect parts of my life. This Fall I was intentional about using the #fullypresentfall hashtag after my pics on instagram. &lt;br /&gt;
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As I process the ins and outs of this beautifully imperfect life I want to tell teen girls (or not so teen girls) obsessed with selfies, tired moms buried in dirty dishes and laundry and widowed warriers holding back tears... YOU ARE NOT PERFECT. IT IS OKAY. I AM NOT PERFECT. What would happen if we stopped posting our fake lives on facebook and embraced our beautifully authentic fully present life.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;Fully present in the moment...imperfections and all.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/2784125154664045498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/12/pinterest-perfection.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/2784125154664045498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/2784125154664045498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/12/pinterest-perfection.html' title='Pinterest Perfection'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjon6zFESisF8wANU4RvG9wTDcD1D6yd4hhyphenhyphenJsBKEaXMX5__yAWMKG-xAb10jaoqx3AtauShmtyJPpSN0dbp0DO3cMMfsSc2XAIgzJV5ZNQA5Eb61PVY0OPbxsXgX7esk_FzP0QfJJ36TeZ/s72-c/swing+pic.bmp" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-5779620346541646387</id><published>2014-11-29T17:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2014-12-07T14:14:36.107-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Survival Guide (for the family and friends who love someone&#xa;with OCD)</title><content type='html'>This week we celebrated my favorite holiday! Thanksgiving by far is my favorite holiday, but the reason why has nothing to do with food. I love turkey, mashed potatoes and all the fixins, but the real reason I love Thanksgiving is becuase of the memories I have with my family around the table. Growing up we always ate dinner as a family. It was an intentional time spent talking about the days activities, telling stories and it was these moments that laid the foundation for the closeness of my family. When I got married and had a child it was important to me that we eat together aorund the table for dinner as often as possible. With the business of ministry and being a thte church or with church people more nights than we are home, we have to protect the time we spend around our table as a family. Our daughter, even at the age of three, knows that we pray and eat as a family each night, and even she knows she has to stay at the table till we are all done. &lt;br&gt;
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Growing up we always had a few extra non-family members around our Thanksgiving table. Not having the opportunity to always live near family had is disatdvantages, but one advantage was the surprise at who would join us each year for turkey day. I remember the recently widowed, the foreign exchange student, the too far from family single person, the friends who were closer than family, the friends of friends, the co workers and all the other people who found themselves at our table throughout the years. &lt;br&gt;
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This year we were blessed to have my parents, brother and friends who recenlty moved to Nashville&amp;nbsp;join us for Thanksgiving at our &lt;strike&gt;little&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;cozy townhouse. After all the dishes were done, leftovers put away and dessert eaten I began to think about what I wish other people knew.&lt;br&gt;
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The holidays are an exciting time, but can be extremly overwhelming and difficult for those of us who live with OCD. The changes in routine, anticipation of whats to come, stress,&amp;nbsp; traveling, not to mention more germs around can cause the most calm person to experience anxiety. My family has been amazing at helping me through but I want to share a few tips to help support the people you love with OCD and anxiety this holiday season.&lt;br&gt;
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&lt;li&gt;Give us space. Don&#39;t be offended when we need a time out or break from all the festivities. Sometimes a few minutes of alone time can go along way in helping us &quot;make it through the next event.&quot; We aren&#39;t mad, we are just coming up for air.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Expect less. I already have high expectations of myself, so please don&#39;t add to it. &lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Keep things as normal as possible. The cram packed schedules, decorations and festivities cause our normal to look and feel different. Try to keep things as normal as possible.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Check in/check out. Make a point to check in and out with your loved one. Starting the day asking what we need is huge and then ending the day by seeing how the day went or how we are doing shows you care.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Back off...but don&#39;t back away. You don&#39;t have to smother us with &quot;are you ok?&quot; questions but please don&#39;t forget that this can be a hard time of year. Don&#39;t assume we are okay.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Let me obsess about something. Often times the obsessive and compulsive thoughts and behaviors can be more heightened and excessive during stressful times. So we may need to give in to the OCD monster and that is okay as long as it isn&#39;t hurting ourselves or others.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Listen...don&#39;t fix. Many times we may just need you to listen. Often times there is no easy fix but just listening so we can get it all out helps more than you know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Love us through it all. The good the bad and ugly parts of OCD are a part of us. So please love us no matter what.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font face=&quot;Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Be fully present in the moment!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/5779620346541646387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/11/holiday-survival-guide-for-family-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/5779620346541646387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/5779620346541646387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/11/holiday-survival-guide-for-family-and.html' title='Holiday Survival Guide (for the family and friends who love someone&#xa;with OCD)'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-3635614773463891039</id><published>2014-11-29T16:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2014-11-29T16:11:08.855-06:00</updated><title type='text'>&amp;quot;Are you really soooo OCD?&amp;quot;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgw_-_GTrsXjowhe0GET4eBMKz_L6oFNsiYdFQJJWk3bKwEcGqPtx8RvA2SYqSnmp1Y_bzCoW2gdJMf3Dwliwrw6FxZhzJrZ2MsJf_Leiu-3NsWjKaqQssg59vH6dSJnEk-jGtd0L3MNAo/s640/blogger-image--1746765359.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/AVvXsEhgw_-_GTrsXjowhe0GET4eBMKz_L6oFNsiYdFQJJWk3bKwEcGqPtx8RvA2SYqSnmp1Y_bzCoW2gdJMf3Dwliwrw6FxZhzJrZ2MsJf_Leiu-3NsWjKaqQssg59vH6dSJnEk-jGtd0L3MNAo/s640/blogger-image--1746765359.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
I saw a dear friend last week who asked about my blog and why I havne&#39;t been writing lately. To be honest, with you I have been writing, but haven&#39;t been posting. Life has been busy and I have spent the last couple months taking a break from the online world.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;For me the fall months and season changes, especially when the time changes, are my most difficult months. I can&#39;t really pin point any one thing that causes this time of the year to be so challenging. I think that with the start of my new job and working full time, Addyson starting preschool, youth ministry and leading our girls small group, not to mention the onset of flu season I often find myself in an OCD danger zone. It is so easy to over committ and underprepare. I am not unike most people who like the extra hour of sleep but hate the sun ging down earlier and changes that the &quot;fall back&quot; bring. But for my OCD brain I tread in dangerous waters.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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In October I started to feel myself getting into the dangerous deep end of OCD habits. I discovered that I was spending too much time online, specifically scrolling facebook and reading about ebola, stomach viruses, and flu shots. I decided the newsfeeds of my friends were causing me to obsess. This &quot;great thing&quot; became a destructive thing, causing the obsessive thoughts to spiral out of control. So I knew it was up to me to do something different, and for me that meant limiting my access to media, disabling my facebook account and &amp;nbsp;being fully present in my real life. Now this isn&#39;t a post to pass judgment on facebook&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;or the greator illusion it brings.&amp;nbsp;But I hate to break it&amp;nbsp;to ya...our&amp;nbsp;facebook lifes just aren&#39;t real. They don&#39;t show the messiness of the real lives we live each day. And my messy life involves living every day with an OCD monster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;In my attempt to process my real struggles all while helping others, I came across the &lt;a href=&quot;http://iocdf.org/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;International OCD Foundation&lt;/a&gt;. One of my persoal pet peeves and insult to all people who live with OCD is when people casualy use the phrase &lt;a href=&quot;http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2013/08/so-ocd.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&quot;I&#39;m so OCD&quot;&lt;/a&gt; I have blogged about it before and loved that this years OCD week (October 13-19) brought awareness to this very thing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;As the fall months turn to winter, which will soon bring on a new year, I am ready to face the online world again.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;So...for my handfull of readers...i&#39;m back and... &lt;em&gt;living more fully present in the moment than ever before!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/3635614773463891039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/11/you-really-soooo-ocd.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/3635614773463891039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/3635614773463891039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/11/you-really-soooo-ocd.html' title='&amp;quot;Are you really soooo OCD?&amp;quot;'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgw_-_GTrsXjowhe0GET4eBMKz_L6oFNsiYdFQJJWk3bKwEcGqPtx8RvA2SYqSnmp1Y_bzCoW2gdJMf3Dwliwrw6FxZhzJrZ2MsJf_Leiu-3NsWjKaqQssg59vH6dSJnEk-jGtd0L3MNAo/s72-c/blogger-image--1746765359.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-197964323597237615</id><published>2014-11-29T16:04:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2014-11-29T16:04:35.785-06:00</updated><title type='text'>&amp;quot;Dance Me&amp;quot;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTFqKUPMraDg22Y_cWqysGTJcieAxBEZ-0qyeXHM28xdH7XytSYrb1WUSjg8Lk6tSfkkFteI6RySiWnPphAhfcZ8C7Q7LywZxBSo2NtWRDsQVJdz3DUo2nYhvA5r4rdn7do7p6CAJmaF-I/s640/blogger-image--490526374.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/AVvXsEgTFqKUPMraDg22Y_cWqysGTJcieAxBEZ-0qyeXHM28xdH7XytSYrb1WUSjg8Lk6tSfkkFteI6RySiWnPphAhfcZ8C7Q7LywZxBSo2NtWRDsQVJdz3DUo2nYhvA5r4rdn7do7p6CAJmaF-I/s640/blogger-image--490526374.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
With the onset of &quot;Frozen&quot; and it&#39;s instant popularity amongst little (and adult) girls everywhere my Miracle Baby is all about princesses. I will never forget when she saw my wedding picture hanging on the wall and with wide eyed wonder asked/stated &lt;a href=&quot;http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/01/you-princess.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&quot;Mama, You&#39;re a Princess?&quot;&lt;/a&gt; From that point on, all things princess have invaded our world. And with this addition has come the simple joy of dancing. One of Addyson&#39;s &amp;nbsp;favorite things to do is watch &quot;Frozen&quot; and dance to the musical numbers intertwined throughout the movie. We love to belt out &quot;Let it Go&quot; with the best of them, but we also have to dance and act out the scenes.&lt;br /&gt;
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I will never forget the spring day that my precious miracle baby called to me from the living room as I prepared dinner and said &quot;Dance Me&quot;. When she wants to dance in a request/command like innocence she says &quot;Mama, dance me.&quot; &amp;nbsp;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;And in perfect fully present fashion I was frozen (no pun intended) in my tracks as forgot about the dinner needing to be finished and danced in the kitchen with my favorite girl.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;It is in moments like this that I am still amazed that &amp;nbsp;I am a mama to this wide eyed and very energetic girl. But is is also these kind of moments that make me realize how easily distracted I can be. With being a working mom, involved in youth ministry with my hubby, and attempting to keep my life and house organized, I can so easily loose sight of the things in my life that are the most important...like stopping and dancing with my daughter. You see there will be a day when she will want her space and will be too cool for her mother. I will dream of days like this and hope that it shows her that I am never too busy to stop when she needs me. This fully present moment got my attention and has helped me be more intentional about the moments that really matter.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;Living fully present in the moment dancing with my princess!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/197964323597237615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/11/me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/197964323597237615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/197964323597237615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/11/me.html' title='&amp;quot;Dance Me&amp;quot;'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTFqKUPMraDg22Y_cWqysGTJcieAxBEZ-0qyeXHM28xdH7XytSYrb1WUSjg8Lk6tSfkkFteI6RySiWnPphAhfcZ8C7Q7LywZxBSo2NtWRDsQVJdz3DUo2nYhvA5r4rdn7do7p6CAJmaF-I/s72-c/blogger-image--490526374.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-7096471819656696619</id><published>2014-08-30T18:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2014-08-30T19:14:27.225-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes I Let Addyson Eat Croutons for Breakfast &amp; Other Things I Never Thought I&#39;d Do As A Mom</title><content type='html'>I was totally an expert mom before I was actually a mother. You know the one who had taken all the classes and studied child development. I worked with kids so naturally I was an expert. Let me tell ya...I didn&#39;t know what I didn&#39;t know.&lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m still no expert as I have only been a mama for three years. But I can say that I am an expert mom to Addyson, my miracle baby. My hubby and I are the experts when it comes to her, but sometimes in the heat of the parenting moment I have to remind myself that neither one of us know better than the other. We both have the same amount of parenting experience. &lt;br /&gt;
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There are things I have done in my three year mommy career that I never thought I&#39;d do...and now to share a few. &lt;br /&gt;
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A couple days before we moved to to Nashville our Pediatrician in Florida shared concerns about Addyson&#39;s growth. He advised we get her into a doc within two weeks after our move. To make a long story short (no pun intended) the term &quot;failure to thrive&quot; entered our world. With it came a grieving process and weight gain goals. We pumped our little one full of avocados, sour cream, butter, pediasure and followed the weight gain plan. I wrote down everything she ate every day for months. She began growing and is meeting all developmental milestones. As a result I found myself letting her eat things I never thought I&#39;d do. So sometimes she eats croutons for breakfast...with a banana of course.&lt;br /&gt;
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In a recent post I shared the &lt;a href=&quot;http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/06/tales-from-toilet-other-lessons-learned.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;tales from the toilet and other lessons learned from potty training&lt;/a&gt;. I am happy to say we survived and are all about the big girl undies! Through that journey I experienced way too many moments with poop. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be on all fours looking for the little poop pellets my precious daughter flung&amp;nbsp;our of her undies&amp;nbsp;in attempts to get on the potty. This OCD Mama has had more encounters with poop than I&#39;d like to admit.&lt;br /&gt;
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When I was pregnant I was convinced Addyson wouldn&#39;t watch TV till the age of two in fear her brain and language wouldn&#39;t develop. I had done all my research and was sure we would shield our babe from the screen. Needless to say her favorite show is Curious George and some mornings that the only way I make it out of the house with a shower.&lt;br /&gt;
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The biggest thing I never thought I&#39;d do as a mom is let my child have a pacifier this long. This is a judge free zone right? Well, we are down to the last paci in the house and being that she is 3 years old and a week I&#39;m more than ready for the paci to get permanently lost. At this point is stays in bed and is only for night time but all through the day I find her chewing on things. As I type she is chewing on a toy hot dog from her play kitchen. She chews on her shirts, fingers and anything else.&amp;nbsp; We are trying to provide more sensory input with pretzels, crackers, apple slices and anything else that crunches. In reality it&#39;s not hurting anyone and I&#39;m fully prepared to start saving for braces now.&lt;br /&gt;
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Being a mom is the greatest title I will ever hold. It is a blessing. I never thought I was capable of loving anything or anymore more than my husband. The love I have as a mom for my daughter is a different kind of love. I never thought i could love more but as each day passes and I see her grow and change I want to hold on to her tighter. My mind races to the first day of kindergarten, her first date, college and her wedding day. After facing days early on when she wasn&#39;t growing I remind myself that this is all part of the journey. Learning to let go is a struggle for this OCD Mama. Yet the challenge to remain fully present in the moment forces me back to reality. &lt;em&gt;Living fully present in the moment helps me be a better mom.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/7096471819656696619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/08/sometimes-i-let-addyson-eat-croutons.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/7096471819656696619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/7096471819656696619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/08/sometimes-i-let-addyson-eat-croutons.html' title='Sometimes I Let Addyson Eat Croutons for Breakfast &amp; Other Things I Never Thought I&#39;d Do As A Mom'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-226476793411195440</id><published>2014-08-30T17:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2014-08-30T20:07:39.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life as a Pastor&#39;s Wife</title><content type='html'>In an attempt to process life as I live it I turn to the keys. Sometimes the busyness of life prevents me from processing. Since returning from a week of experiencing&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/07/the-kingdom.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Kingdom&lt;/a&gt; in Flint, Michigan I have found myself having to be intentional about life. &lt;br /&gt;
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Church is a funny thing to me. Not my church, but church in general. We have turned church into a business. We forget that churches are made up of human beings. We expect all the smoke and lights and think that is what makes church relevant. We forget to love people like Jesus. We get caught up in what the people on stage are wearing and the music.  Recently I heard someone older than 35 say they didn&#39;t know one of the songs. The funny thing is it was a hymm. I&#39;m guilty of it too... I have recently learned that worship isn&#39;t something that happens in the service on sunday mornings. I must be in worship all week. I can&#39;t come to church expecting to get fed for the week. I have to be intentional about my relationship with God all week and not just at church a couple hours a week.&lt;br /&gt;
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Growing up in a pastor&#39;s family I have experienced an inside-out view of church. Often times knowing things behind the scenes has it&#39;s advantges and disadvantages alike. At times in my growing up years I hated being a Pastor&#39;s kid, but looking back I see how God began preparing me for life as a Pastor&#39;s wife. &lt;br /&gt;
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In talking and listening to other Pastor&#39;s wives over the past year and a half I have found many comonalities and in perfect fully present fashion it&#39;s time to process.&lt;br /&gt;
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My fellow Pastor&#39;s Wife friends shared the bests and worsts of life in the fishbowl of being married to a pastor and I thought it&#39;s time to share a few. &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Some of the most common worsts included:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
-&lt;strong&gt;Unrealsitic expectations&lt;/strong&gt;. &quot;We can&#39;t be everything to everyone. We need to put our families first and sometimes this means not being there everytime the doors are open.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;-Cut throat church politics.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;-Finances&lt;/strong&gt;. &quot;Not enough salary to stay afloat. Having to work second and third jobs.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;-Someone in crisis or dies right befure (or even worse) during our vacation.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
-&lt;strong&gt;Hurtful words said with &quot;good&quot; intentions.&lt;/strong&gt; &quot;Can&#39;t tell you how many times I have heard people talk about my husband while I have been in the bathroom and they didn&#39;t know it.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;-People leaving to go somewhere &quot;better&quot;.&lt;/strong&gt; &quot;The reason people say they are leaving is never the real reason. We often know things others don&#39;t.&quot; &quot;We had a family leave to go to the mega church across town. They posted numerous posts on facebook about how great their new church was and how happy they were. Little did they know behind the scenes the&amp;nbsp;pastor&amp;nbsp;of their new great church was having an affair. There are no perfect churches!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;-Setting boundaries.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
-&lt;strong&gt;Seeing dysfunction in peoples lives.&lt;/strong&gt; &quot;Often it is so hard to see and feel hurt with people.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
-&lt;strong&gt;Pressure to give more and be more.&lt;/strong&gt; &quot;We are human beings too.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;The top bests of being in ministry as a Pastor&#39;s wife:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;-People who love and care for our kids. &quot;&lt;/strong&gt;Adopted grandparents&quot; &quot;free babysitting, people sitting with us when our kids were sick.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
-&lt;strong&gt;People who stand by us in our darkest days.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
-K&lt;strong&gt;nowing we have spent our life doing things that matter&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;-Seeing teens question and grow in their faith. &quot;&lt;/strong&gt;A full house with smelly teens who don&#39;t want to leave.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;-The relationships and friends even after moving to another place in ministry.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;-Learning to communicate more effectivley with spouse&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
-&lt;strong&gt;God&#39;s provision time and time again. &quot;&lt;/strong&gt;Christmas bonuses that made Chrismas possible for our children.&quot; &quot;Seeing His faithfulness in the hardest, poorest times.&quot; &quot;Gas cards and groceries left on our porch.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
-&lt;strong&gt;Faithful prayer warriors who have always covered us in prayer.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;-Being part of God&#39;s bigger plan.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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I am greatful for the ways the Lord has gone before me in the places of ministry we have served.  But we are not immune to the hurtful words. Sometimes we just want to sleep in on Sundays too. I am especially thankful for my fellow Pastor&#39;s Wife friends who I text and call when I need support. We serve in multiple areas of the church and do things no one else sees. &lt;br /&gt;
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So if you are reading this hug your pastor&#39;s wife tomorrow and tell her you appreciate her. And if you don&#39;t appreciate her or her hubby, do me a favor...don&#39;t talk about them in the batchroom...you never know if she is in the stall next to you.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;Taking this pastor&#39;s wife journey day by day living&amp;nbsp;fully present in the moment!&lt;/em&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/226476793411195440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/08/life-as-pastors-wife.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/226476793411195440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/226476793411195440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/08/life-as-pastors-wife.html' title='Life as a Pastor&#39;s Wife'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-35482446552941748</id><published>2014-08-23T22:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2014-08-23T22:00:23.977-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How Great is Our God!</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
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Three years ago today I didn&#39;t know what I was capable of. Three years ago today I didn&#39;t know my true strength. Three years ago today I was selfish. Three years ago I was overwhelmed with thanksgiving. Three years ago today I thought I knew what a good mom was. Three years ago today I didn&#39;t know what I didn&#39;t know. Three years ago today I held in my arms the greatest gift I have ever been given.&lt;br /&gt;
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Today we celebrated our miracle baby. Overwhelmed with gratitude for The Lord entrusting me with this gift, I cherished every moment of this day, her 3rd birthday. The fully present moments of this day included last minute party shopping, a FROZEN party complete with an icecream sundae bar, welcoming &quot;sharky&quot; (the fish) to the family and celebrating with family and friends.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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When Addyson was a couple days old I remember rocking her in my arms. Through teary eyes I would sing &quot;How Great is Our God.&quot; For nights on end I would rock, sing and thank God for the miracle of her life.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Even now&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt; when Addyson is struggling to fall asleep, singing that song can calm her. The words of the song alone are meaningful but the words are so much more meaningful when you have had moments&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.befullypresent.blogspot.com/2013/12/when-god-is-silent.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;when God is silent.&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Being fully present in the moment helps me recognize how great God is and recognizing how great God is helps me be fully present in the moment.&amp;lt;/&lt;/i&gt;span&amp;gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/35482446552941748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/08/how-great-is-our-god.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/35482446552941748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/35482446552941748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/08/how-great-is-our-god.html' title='How Great is Our God!'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWndu3AUxDqAQtsjlBG7GT8N8QrxL2gfbglq_kE1fjnEYi147And3DbalH9ZhH-lG-r43Sv-0JP1hf-RC64AImWNEUqpJ5Qj-hGVJtTCgfyAYJ44lX9ihSFb3rkWJYcIRDw38eztEJqVXC/s72-c/blogger-image-1526908108.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-1576330948784943503</id><published>2014-08-11T20:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2014-08-11T20:39:11.923-05:00</updated><title type='text'>God is.</title><content type='html'>The past week has been a whirlwind of a week. Ever had a rollercoaster of emotions kind of week? Yup, that pretty much sums up this past week.&lt;br /&gt;
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It has been a week of new beginnings, disappointment, ups and downs and memories. I have had to remind myself on multiple occasions to be fully present in the moment.&lt;br /&gt;
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The week began with my miracle baby starting preschool. As I anxiously began the first full week of my new job, my little girl excitedly began preschool.&lt;br /&gt;
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I was doing pretty good handeling my emotions untill we got out of the car to go into preschool and I asked if she wanted to hold my hand as we walked inside. She replied &quot;no thanks&quot;. My heart broke as I saw my all too independent girl walk into her class and say &quot;my name is Addyson.&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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The crying floodgates broke wide open and the ugly cry face took over as I drove to work. When I called to check on her during my lunch break the lady who answered the preschool office phone reported Addyson was doing great and having a better first day than her mama. Isn&#39;t that the truth I thought as I told her I promise not to call everyday.&lt;/div&gt;
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My new job has brought with it excitment as I am so happy to be doing social work stuff again. With the excitment also comes feelings of inadequacy and worry. One thing that is a change for me is the nature of the work which puts me in a variety of schools instead of one location. I&#39;m finding the travel time between schools very freeing. The drives are usually spent praying and worshipping as I sing with the radio. And let&#39;s be honest a few tears have been shed this week in the car between appointments at schools as I think about my new full time work schedule and then reapply makeup before going to the next school. Yet God has amazingly placed the right songs on the radio at the right times to speak hope to this sad mamas heart.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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To be honest, I hate the talk part of the radio and wish it was just music. But this week one of the radio people said something that has echoed in my mind and heart all week. They were talking about sending their 18 year old son off to college in another state and all the college stuf he needed, college expenses and the miles that would seperate them from their son. The radio dj mom said the following in regards to her &quot;baby&quot; leaving home, &quot;I just had to come to accept that God either &lt;i&gt;is&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;or He isn&#39;t.&quot; She went on to talk about all the times God was faithful to her and yet the fears of sending her son away to college paralyzed her until she came to realize that God &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt;!&amp;nbsp;If God is everything we say He is and believe He is then God is big enough to handle it!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Hello?!? Talk about a wake up call, slap in the face moment. My drive between schools became a moment of confession and commitment to living like I believe that God &lt;i&gt;is.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;That God is enough to handle my emotional rollercoaster. That God is&amp;nbsp;The One who holds my daughters hand at preschool. The following song &lt;a href=&quot;http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=13_Py-6eRqI&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&quot;I Am Set Free&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;by All Sons and Daughters&amp;nbsp;came on the radio and I sang along feeling a sense of freedom I have never felt or experienced before!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Fast forward to the weekend spent in Texas celebrating my grandparents 60th wedding anniversary. It was a quick trip to Texas but one full of &quot;fully present&quot; moments with family. Seeing family I haven&#39;t seen in years, along with seeing my brother and parents was such a blessing. There were so many moments where I didn&#39;t even need to remind myself to be fully present in the moment because I was just soaking in each moment of togetherness. It was an unforgettable gift to have that time together. The icing in the cake was on Sunday morning when the same exact song was sung that I heard on the radio earlier in the week. As if God was reminding me that He &lt;i&gt;is! &lt;/i&gt;Even in my week of saddness, disappointment, anger and excitment God is still God and He is a God of freedom.&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;I am living in the moment set free!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/1576330948784943503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/08/god-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/1576330948784943503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/1576330948784943503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/08/god-is.html' title='God is.'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUQQ5vlfQJaOH9WCgRJTniRk_hyKk-ThbdyD2PLppl1F8uEnEifsU43K9M5Dq4wjDwTUZnLXrwZFeJImr4gLDEI-MbjSDMfr905Q0xS6sDpq5l_5bPBlpX8k9GkdwFdYgqLH206hWDL0Yc/s72-c/blogger-image-1375563480.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-7095352782286955519</id><published>2014-07-24T10:40:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2014-07-24T10:43:28.034-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyday, Ordinary Life</title><content type='html'>Back to life...back to reality. I have always somewhat lived from event to event. Countdowns, to do lists and planning is a natural part of my personality which I could blame on the OCD, but have learned to accept as just a part of me. Since being home from our Mission Trip last week and seeing &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/07/the-kingdom.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;The Kingdom&lt;/a&gt; I have really struggled with getting back to &quot;normal&quot; life. I can&#39;t get the images, peoples faces and the fun we had serving beside our C3 teens out of my mind.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To be honest, I would rather be back in Flint right about now. I definitly love sleeping in my own bed, but feel like i&#39;m suffering from &lt;i&gt;Post Trip Depression.&lt;/i&gt; Ok maybe I made that diagnosis up, but i&#39;m feeling a little down since we have been back in Nashville. After a week of working hard and serving others I feel like I haven&#39;t accomplished much here at home. Each night of the trip I would lay down on my slightly deflated air mattress and reflect on all that we accmplished that day. Working besides our teens was a refreshing break from the mundane ordinary life here at home. Sure, I have done loads of laundry, grocery shopping and even picked out a new preschool for Addyson since we returned, but I don&#39;t have that &lt;i&gt;I made a difference&lt;/i&gt; feeling like I had all last week. I guess it&#39;s just the return to everyday ordinary life that has me feeling a little down. Or the fact that I not only served along side my teens last week but with my family as well and it&#39;s hard not waking up knowing I will see them today that has me feeling sad.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember this feeling after graduating from Grad school, our wedding, having Addyson, after family holidays together and other mission trips. It&#39;s just that let down of something you have looked forward to and planned for and then it&#39;s just over. Why is it that the time it takes before a big trip, event or vacation takes forever to get here and then the event or trip itself flies by?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;I think another reason that this week was different is due to my intentional choice of being fully present in the moment all throughout our week in Flint. Last night we let our teens share their most memorable moment and their Kingdom or God moment from the trip. It was refreshing to hear teens share where they saw God. I am humbled by the response to my last blog post about seeing the Kingdom. I hope it serves as a challenge to have Kingdom eyes. I guess I wonder how that will all play out in my daily life and community. With the upcoming changes in our family like Addyson starting preschool and my new job I pray that I have my eyes open for opportunities to share God&#39;s love.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While we were with our C3 teens this week anohter team from our church was serving in Africa. I can&#39;t wait to hear how their lives were changed this past week. but reality is that you don&#39;t have to drive 10 hours to Flint or fly across the world to Africa to see the Kingdom and serve others. I want more than anything for my church, our teens and people around me to have a passion for worship and serving God through loving others. How do I get others excited about this?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before our trip to Flint the Lord gave me a verse from Romans 12: 1 in the Message and since being home I can&#39;t get it out of my head: &lt;b&gt;&quot;So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.&quot;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;How do I live an intentional life loving God and loving others?&lt;i&gt; The only answer I have is to continue to place my life before God by being fully present in the moment.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/7095352782286955519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/07/back-to-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/7095352782286955519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/7095352782286955519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/07/back-to-life.html' title='Everyday, Ordinary Life'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-8133901191885192276</id><published>2014-07-19T09:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2014-07-19T21:01:34.193-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kingdom</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The summer of 2008 I spent a month serving through Nazarene Disaster Response after Iowa was devastated by flooding. It was the first time I experienced the Kingdom of God. Before going to Iowa I only thought of the Kingdom of God as going to heaven, something far off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My faith deepened the summer I was in Iowa. I will never forget getting the call that they needed traumatologist to go and help the flood victims and first responders deal with the emotional effects of disaster. I knew I had to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;I fell in love with serving. It was as if the broken pieces of my life became whole as I lived out of a suitcase, took cold showers and ate from Red Cross trucks. I truly believe God used that trip to open my eyes to the selfishness that consumed me. I saw, touched, smelled, experienced and ate things that my OCD self never even imagined was possible.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That month changed my heart. It changed my heart to see people differently. It&#39;s funny how this week has reminded me of that month in Iowa years ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;This week my husband and I have been with our teens on a mission trip in Flint, Michigan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;I have seen the Kingdom this week. I am seeing a glimpse of Christ. I see Christ in our teens as they serve and I see Christ in the eyes of people we are serving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;webkit-fake-url://37D98961-3D66-484F-90C0-F271F833282E/imagejpeg&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw the Kingdom this week at the Detroit tigers game when one of our teens traded seats so a dad and his son could sit next to each other at their very first baseball game. The Kingdom of God is at baseball games.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPW7PHkVz_hqQE1I61kAko_sf57UvffBxWM4y8j6auxis6dBmnmEbY09g3aO9Fxh3-ff5VaUCRMegqEfPylIffcyPe-L6MeCpJdtj3yik2FaHzzGcLYtgpFGN-GxjOjMroZpozLZ1GF3C6/s640/blogger-image-1036432648.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/AVvXsEiPW7PHkVz_hqQE1I61kAko_sf57UvffBxWM4y8j6auxis6dBmnmEbY09g3aO9Fxh3-ff5VaUCRMegqEfPylIffcyPe-L6MeCpJdtj3yik2FaHzzGcLYtgpFGN-GxjOjMroZpozLZ1GF3C6/s640/blogger-image-1036432648.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I see the Kingdom in my husband who has a passion for helping teens learn to love God and love others even though at some point on every youth trip he says &quot;I think I&#39;m too old for this.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfsibu4XY2tfLLJB3Bh4QOmD1Z2uYdFfzhEgIHpe24FL5rk7D8pGDmgH-avqSHXUrRnJa1U3zOS8GSTiMOHSYOTdM4WoTOQBbjtST1426dCQeow8vUTUZSlvZiqzbJGwDWiiL7LXiHhtok/s640/blogger-image--276956098.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/AVvXsEjfsibu4XY2tfLLJB3Bh4QOmD1Z2uYdFfzhEgIHpe24FL5rk7D8pGDmgH-avqSHXUrRnJa1U3zOS8GSTiMOHSYOTdM4WoTOQBbjtST1426dCQeow8vUTUZSlvZiqzbJGwDWiiL7LXiHhtok/s640/blogger-image--276956098.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw the Kingdom when nine year old Darnell got a bike and then came back and waited with us on the bounce house company to come pick up the bounce house he played in. I saw the Kingdom in my brother who let Darnell play games on his phone while we waited. We found out Darnell wants to be a lawyer when he grows up or a cage fighter if being a lawyer doesn&#39;t work out. I saw the Kingdom in my brother as he talked to Darnell. I saw the Kingdom in Darnell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4x0uGcbQyBehNZpiznG_5QcFjtzFamUzxdEdUgzFROnTeDUVngLcr513092YNLPc4Sllo7_HsH9CtQT8i3HPiacESMhfNCCYugHM95vLpPpI2Tii2zyrK6MdtNIx3zkgTdA9Lq9mR-F1p/s640/blogger-image--1096208648.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/AVvXsEi4x0uGcbQyBehNZpiznG_5QcFjtzFamUzxdEdUgzFROnTeDUVngLcr513092YNLPc4Sllo7_HsH9CtQT8i3HPiacESMhfNCCYugHM95vLpPpI2Tii2zyrK6MdtNIx3zkgTdA9Lq9mR-F1p/s640/blogger-image--1096208648.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw the Kingdom in our teens as they boarded up houses, painted, worked together carrying tools, lumber and swaped chips on our lunch break. They were exposed to things so far from their suburban Ray-Ban Sperry Starbucks Chaco lives. Their eyes were opened to communities and people much different from their own. They learned a lesson on the &quot;tour of Flint&quot; when they laughed at and took pictures of the guy in front of Taco Bell. They won&#39;t forget him as later that night they were challenged to see people as &quot;their true selves, their child of God selves.&quot; Teens are the Kingdom no matter where they come from.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_94t_v837J3Y968iWEjJyoR0QKV12RaK7a_7vrsRkjxBV9c65YTB_RT8hNrnMkWNfIHWf8Aw2YXU1kKQCAW8NbppKIdYMUxbZe5pfJee1BwH3tgniJsE3yHKS8NLX3EXtGElAy4YVyDbx/s640/blogger-image--971985898.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/AVvXsEg_94t_v837J3Y968iWEjJyoR0QKV12RaK7a_7vrsRkjxBV9c65YTB_RT8hNrnMkWNfIHWf8Aw2YXU1kKQCAW8NbppKIdYMUxbZe5pfJee1BwH3tgniJsE3yHKS8NLX3EXtGElAy4YVyDbx/s640/blogger-image--971985898.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgziqdXmUdlhUkdg0RXZwrzldEAiR_5eU_2lOV_f0Brd00wVrs_GOs2zGkX9n4nNINc5OlLQmDTMk-aryiZ7hY53aL8IV8K4hnVOXfGZXYQt7zIAxs9XB7UR3coZpNPx1ITkuzc4LqwppAU/s640/blogger-image--1870052300.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/AVvXsEgziqdXmUdlhUkdg0RXZwrzldEAiR_5eU_2lOV_f0Brd00wVrs_GOs2zGkX9n4nNINc5OlLQmDTMk-aryiZ7hY53aL8IV8K4hnVOXfGZXYQt7zIAxs9XB7UR3coZpNPx1ITkuzc4LqwppAU/s640/blogger-image--1870052300.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibFf5FeUeTN63bf4TtUbpeyFvGYCgWA5_-86ZxT360miySA7tJSvx7TxZ8FKiXNea56piB0ohAmBWRyxFCrCojrN_8NgCIR_hI9bRYn4ZLcH-rvFVtRzzYNVSH_r3aB3PoyuZdY1HIKWto/s640/blogger-image-363657747.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/AVvXsEibFf5FeUeTN63bf4TtUbpeyFvGYCgWA5_-86ZxT360miySA7tJSvx7TxZ8FKiXNea56piB0ohAmBWRyxFCrCojrN_8NgCIR_hI9bRYn4ZLcH-rvFVtRzzYNVSH_r3aB3PoyuZdY1HIKWto/s640/blogger-image-363657747.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw the Kingdom as children&#39;s eyes lite up as they rode new bikes. I saw the Kingdom as people ate hot dogs and burgers. As the grill fired up and people came out they experienced the Kingdom.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHmTv0b-y5LYL8shYQWr_FTYxhnFamqz1-FnYqnXCi1mwAcWlNnS4jAd7Yn1doauutqEGLcwNqMkYyym5E0EQOrgwYXR6i9y3LSIK3YbiDBMZUXE42kIarHvhJXrtcuTFUXWr__aF6miHW/s640/blogger-image--667556170.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/AVvXsEgHmTv0b-y5LYL8shYQWr_FTYxhnFamqz1-FnYqnXCi1mwAcWlNnS4jAd7Yn1doauutqEGLcwNqMkYyym5E0EQOrgwYXR6i9y3LSIK3YbiDBMZUXE42kIarHvhJXrtcuTFUXWr__aF6miHW/s640/blogger-image--667556170.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw the Kingdom in the mom who came on the trip and cooked our meals. She cooked without complaining. She kept us well fed and made sweet tea. Yes, I saw the Kingdom in a glass of cold sweat tea!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIUyh2f4QREGG_Cv97C8jvBxzpnuZvudISxDnMMyesUoiGDm_xUwAMkk2wQDeTVNky0b2bJWb95pbUmsUXTWQwsodCL6rgmuY9AZ-izyLvEEL6i6IEKmKbTKUukEBl0m4BhmRaEXZ5w1lF/s640/blogger-image--1886863208.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/AVvXsEhIUyh2f4QREGG_Cv97C8jvBxzpnuZvudISxDnMMyesUoiGDm_xUwAMkk2wQDeTVNky0b2bJWb95pbUmsUXTWQwsodCL6rgmuY9AZ-izyLvEEL6i6IEKmKbTKUukEBl0m4BhmRaEXZ5w1lF/s640/blogger-image--1886863208.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I see the Kingdom in my parents who tirelessly cared for Addyson so we could be free to be with our teens. &amp;nbsp;I see the Kingdom when our teens love Addyson. When she sees them and their eyes light up, when they include her and stop what they are doing to talk to her. They are showing her what the Kingdom looks like. I see the Kingdom every time I look at my miracle baby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3XUq3DGkanLhXcVgYicgXA4UL_Yxu9M32ajlcD3D272Sa8U0-kC5GrUMb0rcMH8DKiTeSXc12ZrRJkNW2qjtQ6VTm-VT4Y6iYLQEFXxqUOMf-gFdIk7Y-zskRsm80mLSs3OtncyfYfCr1/s640/blogger-image-659377194.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/AVvXsEg3XUq3DGkanLhXcVgYicgXA4UL_Yxu9M32ajlcD3D272Sa8U0-kC5GrUMb0rcMH8DKiTeSXc12ZrRJkNW2qjtQ6VTm-VT4Y6iYLQEFXxqUOMf-gFdIk7Y-zskRsm80mLSs3OtncyfYfCr1/s640/blogger-image-659377194.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitm02ltNk0XfPzfrQHf9h0tap-dcZS6x_4I7Hp01-teAIibRS1lR4a4YStRkZMBAxABol0pYJLkNE9SoCP4sCTIxg8B-Otz8NrzSXO1anGBa8-qWtOzltS2msNDtMdgF4mx9Bq6ozdJ3cT/s640/blogger-image--1982591599.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/AVvXsEitm02ltNk0XfPzfrQHf9h0tap-dcZS6x_4I7Hp01-teAIibRS1lR4a4YStRkZMBAxABol0pYJLkNE9SoCP4sCTIxg8B-Otz8NrzSXO1anGBa8-qWtOzltS2msNDtMdgF4mx9Bq6ozdJ3cT/s640/blogger-image--1982591599.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDEdjSHdrDVTFoIgMDGgJjViz-LhZFhM6Uq4maqn0ZZ5ZVhNjFqY3XTaBmT1wjfuoCJBPMAxhdwbGymAgCyyemALnfzHBcma8JuBA-hfTNBfv5eihJbg2sjKO_BpTOsmRwduHWsq8pomV8/s640/blogger-image--1251602218.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/AVvXsEjDEdjSHdrDVTFoIgMDGgJjViz-LhZFhM6Uq4maqn0ZZ5ZVhNjFqY3XTaBmT1wjfuoCJBPMAxhdwbGymAgCyyemALnfzHBcma8JuBA-hfTNBfv5eihJbg2sjKO_BpTOsmRwduHWsq8pomV8/s640/blogger-image--1251602218.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Kingdom of God is near. It&#39;s 10 hours from where I live, it&#39;s in my neighborhood, it&#39;s in our youth ministry. The Kingdom is here. I want to have Kingdom eyes. Where do you see the Kingdom?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Being fully present in the moment helps me see the Kingdom.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/8133901191885192276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/07/the-kingdom.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/8133901191885192276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/8133901191885192276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/07/the-kingdom.html' title='The Kingdom'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPW7PHkVz_hqQE1I61kAko_sf57UvffBxWM4y8j6auxis6dBmnmEbY09g3aO9Fxh3-ff5VaUCRMegqEfPylIffcyPe-L6MeCpJdtj3yik2FaHzzGcLYtgpFGN-GxjOjMroZpozLZ1GF3C6/s72-c/blogger-image-1036432648.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-3194110433933571617</id><published>2014-07-12T23:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2014-07-12T23:14:11.662-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Choices...</title><content type='html'>Everyday we make choices. Good choices and bad choices surround us and navigate through our schema. I have been reminded lately that I can choose to bless The Lord, regardless of my situations. The song &quot;10,000 Reasons (bless The Lord)&quot; has been in my mind all week. The words are powerful yet have drawn me back to the choice we have to worship The Lord in the midst of the junk this life gives us. Life is hard and well...sometimes life sucks. Situations we experience, loss, and disappointment all can&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;suck the life right out of us. Without choosing to turn to Christ in the midst of the chaotic world we live in we can drown in unknowns, comparisons and doubts. Yet we worship a God who is there in the midst of all that junk.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I&#39;m a recovering over commiting, people pleasing, can&#39;t say no-a-holic. This way of life left me burned out. It left me burned out as a social worker. Im not afraid to admit it, it even left me burned out on religion.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;So instead of commiting to everything like my old ways, I stood on the outskirts, was aloof and hid behind my baby, who had become my security blanket in a sense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;I used to struggle with wanting to look, talk, and be like everyone else. I thought I had a handle on it until I moved here and yet again wasn&#39;t part of the &quot;in crowd&quot; at church. Funny how sometimes we feel the most excluded at church, the one place where everyone should feel like they belong right? I wasn&#39;t sure of my place and purpose amongst the people I was called to serve through youth ministry. I could blame it on the nature of ministry, being a pastors wife or even my OCD, but I began looking at it like it was a choice. In reality I was choosing to let the popular people get to me. Choosing to have pity parties and other distructive thought patterns seized my rational brain.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Tonight I am choosing to bless the Lord. I am choosing to pray when i&#39;d rather complain. I am choosing to read the word daily and being intentional about sharing verses with friends. I am choosing to worship the Lord even though I may not like the songs or music style, or gasp...the platform arrangement on a given sunday. I&#39;m choosing to stop listening to the whiny bad attitdes and start being a part of the change. I am choosing to&lt;br /&gt;
tune out the negative &quot;this is how we&#39;ve always done it or it will never work that way&quot; people so I can hear the voice of the Lord. I&#39;m choosing to give to others even if it means going without. I&#39;m choosing joy.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;I am choosing to be fully present in the moment.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/3194110433933571617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/07/choices.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/3194110433933571617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/3194110433933571617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/07/choices.html' title='Choices...'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-3126797276678093259</id><published>2014-06-26T16:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2014-06-26T20:18:29.765-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Transitions...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;One of my favorite quotes from the movie Hope Floats is the following: &quot;Beginnings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but it&#39;s what&#39;s in the middle that counts.&quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I find myself in the midst of transition. First let me say I hate change. I like routines, regurity and the familiar. Kinda funny that I grew up moving around what seemed like every 3-4 years. I have favorite resturants at which I order the same thing. I pick resturants first by how much I like their sweet tea and then by whether or not I&#39;m in the mood for the one thing on the menu I always order. I&#39;m not one to try new things or live on the edge. I&#39;d like to think im adventurous but in reality, I&#39;m very predictable.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the thought of any kind of major change brings on the OCD counting, cleaning and controlling monster. In mid June I resigned from my current job at Vanderbilt and accepted a job for a school district. This move wasn&#39;t spur of the moment. It was prayerful and something that God began preparing me for a year ago.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In many ways I&#39;m comfortable at my current job. Yes there are the typical stressors that any job has but for the most part it&#39;s an easy job where I have been able to use my creative, organizational and administrative skills. One of the best things about my current job has been the flexibility to be home in the mornings with Addyson these past two years.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A year ago I was still wrestling with God about wanting to be a stay at home mom and not having to work outside the home. I had reworked the budget numerous times. Brainstormed ways to work from home. &amp;nbsp;In my anger I often questioned why ministry doesn&#39;t pay more and why God wouldn&#39;t give me what &lt;i&gt;I&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;wanted...to be a stay at home mom.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I began praying, boldly praying that The Lord would provide. Praying that I wouldn&#39;t rely on His past faithfulness to be enough to carry me through current daily struggles. I got into the Word through Good Morning Girls bible studies. I found making my quiet time with God a priority changed me. It also made me want it more. Made me want God in a deeper way than I ever have before. A year ago I wouldn&#39;t have even considered getting back into social work full time. Thinking teaching a social work class at Trevecca was enough at first. But throughout the year God stirred within me a desire to return to my first profession, the one He called me to long before I held the title wife or mom.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In January I stopped praying vague generic &quot;God please provide for us&quot; prayers and began praying specific, to the point prayers. Asking the Lord to open the door for me to work somewhere that would allow me to be home in the evenings and have summers off seemed like a huge request.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The time came for us to look at preschools for Addyson. Without knowing how we would pay for it let alone if &lt;i&gt;I&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;would actually be ready for her to go. I got a call, actually a few calls, to interview for a job that met all of &lt;i&gt;my&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;requirements. Thinking it was too good to be true I said I would interview even though I really didn&#39;t think I was at a point of changing jobs. Yes, The Lord has been preparing me for this change months in the making.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Something happens when we boldly pray. I remember driving to work praying as I often do it was as if The Lord said to my heart &quot;just think how many lives and families you can impact if you take this job.&quot; It was in that moment that I felt overwhelming peace. The Lord answered this OCD girls bold prayers and has prepared the way for me to start my new job at the end of July.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To be honest I&#39;m still nervous, sad, scared and excited about this transition. The mix of emotions are real and sometimes raw. I will have 9 schools that I will travel between. My office will be my car and it will be different work every day. I will have to develop a new routine. Yes, I will have summers off, but I will be working hard for 10 months before I reap the benefit of having the summer off with my favorite girl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thursday night as I sat in a missionary service at our denominations district assembly I had one of those God moments. Like the kind of moment when you feel like the speaker is talking directly to you even though you are in a room of hundreds of people. The speakers wife (who couldn&#39;t be there) greeted us with a video message. In it she shared a quote from Elisabeth Elliot. It was the only thing I heard all night and pierced my soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Elisabeth Elliot is the wife of Jim Elliot, a missionary killed by the remote tribe he was called to minister to in Equador. Even after he was killed she remained for two years and ministered to the tribe who took her husbands life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&quot;This job has been given to me to do. Therefore, it is a gift. Therefore, it is a privilege. Therefore, it is an offering I may make to God. Therefore, it is to be done gladly, if it is done for Him. Here, not somewhere else, I may learn God’s way. In this job, not in some other, God looks for faithfulness.&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Elisabeth Elliot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Wow! What a calling God has placed on my life both as a mom and a social worker. The job God has given me to do can&#39;t be taken lightly. This job as a mama and as a social worker must be done with intentionality. It must be rooted in deep bold prayers. It must be done with compassion. These job are both important.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: &#39;Helvetica Neue Light&#39;, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;This quote rattled my sole. The words spoke to a deep hurt place in my heart that resented the fact that I can&#39;t be a stay at home mom. Like a healing salve it renewed my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;&quot;&gt;This quote will be my calling and mission statement as I transition into my new job. As much as I hate change I know it is needed. Even good change is hard.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;As I focus on the job at hand I will remain fully preset in the moment!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/3126797276678093259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/06/transitions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/3126797276678093259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/3126797276678093259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/06/transitions.html' title='Transitions...'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-6101564854402252973</id><published>2014-06-14T20:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2014-06-14T22:44:12.084-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tears of Healing</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m a crier. I cry when I&#39;m happy. I cry when I&#39;m sad. I even cry when I see other people crying. I cry every time I leave me parents or they leave me after a visit. I cry when I pray. I cry during movies. I cry when I&#39;m stressed. I cried today. I often feel better after a good cry.&lt;br /&gt;
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I remember working with a client who returned from rehab. She returned a new person, naturally, after being in a rehab facility away from her addiction and all the vices it entailed. In my time as a child and family therapist, clients came and went. Some families stick out in my memory, and many helped lay a foundation as a helping professional. This particular client came back and was eager to share all she had learned in her 90 days away. She looked like a new person, far from the drug induced shell of a person I encouraged to &amp;nbsp;go to rehab months earlier. As she sat in my office she shared story after story of her time away. Making amends, meetings, new friends, and beautiful manicured fingernails were topics discussed as well as detox, regrets and crying. She shared something that has stuck with me as I interact with others. She shared that her therapist who led groups at the rehab facility corrected her one day in group. She was embarrassed at the time but &amp;nbsp;learned an incredible lesson and the tables were turned that day as i became the student learning a valuable lesson from my client.&lt;br /&gt;
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She told me one day in group as people shared the story of their addictive behaviors one person began to cry. My client naturally got up and handed her the box of tissues when the therapist leading the group suddenly stopped her. He told my client that the tissues would remain where they were on the shelf and if anyone wanted to get one they could get up and get it themselves. She continued sharing that the therapist went on to explain that in group and at the treatment rehab it was okay to cry. Offering tissues to a person crying sends the message to them that they should stop. That it&#39;s not okay or acceptable to cry. In reality crying is a good thing, a healthy thing.&lt;br /&gt;
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I will never forget that conversation. I will never forget what I learned that day.&lt;br /&gt;
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As I think about the various emotions that tomorrow, Father&#39;s Day, will bring I can&#39;t help but remember the tissue box conversation that changed my perspective of crying.&lt;br /&gt;
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I won&#39;t be able to be with my dad tomorrow on Father&#39;s Day because of the miles that separate us and I will be sad. But I have friends who will celebrate their first fathers day and that brings a sense of excitement and joy. And then there are the ones who will celebrate Father&#39;s day without their dad because of death. Tomorrow I will celebrate with my miracle baby and her great daddy. There will be cards, a gift and family time at a baseball game, and knowing me I will cry happy tears.&lt;br /&gt;
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I think it is okay to cry. Strong people cry. Weak people hide their emotions. Crying is okay. Crying is good for you. Crying makes you feel better, but sometimes it also make you feel worse.&lt;br /&gt;
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I heard a grieving widow once say, &quot;don&#39;t feel bad for me when I cry in front of you...these are tears of healing.&quot; Wow, what a beautifully honest statement.&lt;br /&gt;
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So don&#39;t feel offended if you cry in front of me and I don&#39;t offer you tissues. My tears and the tears you cry my dear friend, are tears of healing. Healing takes time. Healing hurts. Healing does happen.&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Let the tears of healing flow as you remain fully present in the moment.&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/6101564854402252973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/06/tears-of-healing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/6101564854402252973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/6101564854402252973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/06/tears-of-healing.html' title='Tears of Healing'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-6835586495828513935</id><published>2014-06-11T22:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2014-06-11T22:51:08.085-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tales From the Toilet &amp; Other Lessons Learned from Potty Training</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/AVvXsEiCwYz6j6RQPRXZjzwupk1PPpmbV0znc0wi8DRHzyEFiLdelZEFXmbludlafqTDCrufRWhl0gPip67VP4AoC1E5jB0sMLA8-EPJWpKAAjV8SvzU6GMGNBeW7vjt2Vi1LIik90Ij80zJWyrV/s1600/IMG_0873.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/AVvXsEiCwYz6j6RQPRXZjzwupk1PPpmbV0znc0wi8DRHzyEFiLdelZEFXmbludlafqTDCrufRWhl0gPip67VP4AoC1E5jB0sMLA8-EPJWpKAAjV8SvzU6GMGNBeW7vjt2Vi1LIik90Ij80zJWyrV/s1600/IMG_0873.jpg&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; width=&quot;150&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
A couple weeks ago we began the much dreaded potty training task with our toddler. I will openly admit that this is the parenting task/stage that I am the most intimidated by. I have talked to veteran moms about my &quot;I&#39;m gonna mess her up for good&quot; fears and they have all reassured me that I won&#39;t. I&#39;ve read and re-read parenting blogs, toilet training tips, books and articles. I work in a school with potty training gurus. And yet it is still intimidating, frightening and nerve wracking. So I braved Babies R Us purchased two princess potty seats, &quot;big girl&quot; undies and an industrial size bag of M&amp;amp;Ms.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;Yes, I know many veteran moms will read this and think, &quot;Ha! You just wait...potty training is easy compared to __________ (fill in the blank). But for this OCD Mama potty training scares me. Regardless of my fears and phobias if I survived cloth diapering, I can handle this right?&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;Over the past two weeks (which feel like years) I have learned a thing or two about potty training. I also find it a little ironic that I would dare to take on this parenting challenge while my hubby is at camp for two weeks. Perhaps this is an addition to last years blog post&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2013/06/top-10-reasons-why-i-wish-i-was-at.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Top 10 Reasons Why I Wish I Was At Junior High Camp.&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2013/06/top-10-reasons-why-i-wish-i-was-at.html&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Let me first begin by saying that I have now seen nearly every restroom in the greater Nashville area as my precious toddler wants to look at every bathroom everywhere we go. Tonight when we walked into a bathroom she hadn&#39;t been in before and she immediately said &quot;o it&#39;s amazing.&quot; Let me tell you there was nothing amazing about this particular restroom. But to my princess in training, she was amazed. I can tell you which restaurant has a clean bathroom, which gas station potty to avoid and when it is necessary to wait till we get home. Yet I have learned that when your toddler says they gotta go...there&#39;s a 50/50 chance they will go...so even if you are mid bite or on the phone you drop everything and run to the potty.&lt;br /&gt;
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This OCD Mama has had to set my fears, phobias and intrusive thoughts aside as we have embraced pull ups, princess undies and potty treats. I avoid going to the bathroom in public places at all costs. They are breading grounds for all kinds of bacteria, germs and disease, but when you are potty training a toddler all that has to be ignored. &amp;nbsp;I have learned that these days we run to the potty every chance we get in hopes of having a dry pull up or undies. Our goal is to keep the princess undies dry and get a treat. No easy task for the OCD Mama.&lt;br /&gt;
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I can now proudly whip out the fold and go potty seat (they are worth every penny) in record time, juggling a squirmy toddler, purse, backpack all while repeatedly saying &quot;don&#39;t touch anything&quot; to my very curious tot. Yet there is no way I can keep the obsessive thoughts at bay. They swarm around in my mind like bees overtake their hive. It&#39;s as if each thing she touches will lead to my &amp;nbsp;&quot;worst case scenario&quot; thought coming true. These obsessive thoughts cause the compulsive desires to engage in battle. &amp;nbsp;But I am learning to leave the OCD Mama at the door and be a Fully Present Mama.&lt;br /&gt;
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So I find myself in broken record fashion saying &quot;don&#39;t touch&quot;, &quot;that&#39;s gross&quot;, &quot;that&#39;s really yucky&quot; to my miracle baby. As if my heart is outside my body in the most germ filled place just waiting to be attacked. And yet my Addyson finds these interactions exciting. She giggles and squeals with glee as she sits on her Cars Potty seat (it was the only fold and go one I could find). She &amp;nbsp;is so proud of herself when she pees and poops in the potty which is rewarded with an M&amp;amp;M. Even when she doesn&#39;t go, she simply states &quot;we&#39;ll try again&quot;. Her lighthearted attitude and ability to go with the flow (no pun intended) helps me conquer this new milestone. I am learning that &lt;i&gt;my &lt;/i&gt;OCD is &lt;i&gt;mine&lt;/i&gt; and not hers. I can&#39;t and won&#39;t put my fears onto her.&lt;br /&gt;
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Through this potty training journey I have also learned the importance of P.P (pun intended). Patience and Practice have become my mantra. I often have to remind myself that I must be patent and Addyson must practice. Potty training, like any new skill takes time and practice.&lt;br /&gt;
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The other thing I have learned as weird as it is, is I have to be thankful for the accidents. You see one of the many things I have learned from working where I do is that to me potty training may be my biggest parenting woe, but for some parents they only wish their child would reach this milestone. I really believe that we as parents must become more aware of the things we say. We have to realize that every child is different. For some parents they will forever be changing diapers. So I have to remind myself to be fully present in the moment sometimes means being grateful for the good and the bad, for my worst day could be some parents best day ever.&lt;br /&gt;
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I am also finding myself having to laugh through this &lt;strike&gt;chore &lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;journey. For instance when I use the rest room and addyson tells everyone how stinky it was. Or the time that she cheered and told me I could get a treat. But my favorite has to be when she puts her hand to her ear and listens for her pee pee to come out saying &quot;hear it mama?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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So if you&#39;re in a public restroom in the near future and you hear a toddler voice belt out the chorus of &quot;Let it Go&quot; that would be my miracle baby. &amp;nbsp;And yes, I usually sing along in hope that she will indeed &quot;let it go&quot; in the potty. &lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;Here&#39;s to being fully present in the moment!&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/6835586495828513935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/06/tales-from-toilet-other-lessons-learned.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/6835586495828513935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/6835586495828513935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/06/tales-from-toilet-other-lessons-learned.html' title='Tales From the Toilet &amp; Other Lessons Learned from Potty Training'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwYz6j6RQPRXZjzwupk1PPpmbV0znc0wi8DRHzyEFiLdelZEFXmbludlafqTDCrufRWhl0gPip67VP4AoC1E5jB0sMLA8-EPJWpKAAjV8SvzU6GMGNBeW7vjt2Vi1LIik90Ij80zJWyrV/s72-c/IMG_0873.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-1880665825665594255</id><published>2014-06-07T21:07:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2014-06-07T21:15:16.211-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Lady, Stop Staring at Me!</title><content type='html'>Dear Lady in Buffalo Wild Wings,&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;Please stop staring at me and my toddler. I know that my adorable toddler just threw an entire basket of fries on the floor, but you staring at me is not helping my situation.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, I am fully aware of the crying tantrum happening in my midst and your glaring eye isn&#39;t helping one bit. 

I don&#39;t know, maybe you expected your boyfriend, sugar daddy, husband or whatever he may be, to bring you out for a nice peaceful dinner, but hate to break it ya but you are at BWW and its a little loud in here. That is one of the reasons we are here tonight. 

Besides having a gift card, we know that this eating establishment isn&#39;t for the faint at heart. It&#39;s not the quiet candlelight, look into each others eyes, romantic dinner place. This is one of the few non-fast food restaurants we can go to and I don&#39;t have to worry about my very vocal toddler bothering anyone. If the obnoxiously loud TVs blaring isn&#39;t enough I&#39;m pretty sure the sporadic cheering and other choice words that are expressed for each bad play, call or score don&#39;t bother you are in the right place.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yup, I&#39;m pretty sure the table of basketball players or the little leaguers beside us are more interesting, yet your eyes are fixed on me and my toddler as we sit on the floor. My eyes dart at my tot and back at you again as I calmly explain why we don&#39;t throw food and try to convince my tot to pick up the fries. You see, we are trying to make this a teachable moment. So stare away, but we will be sitting right here until my miracle baby starts picking up the fries. Stop looking at me like I&#39;m a cruel parent after all it wasn&#39;t an accident, the fries didn&#39;t slip off the table, they were thrown with force. What can I say, she&#39;s got a good arm.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;My sigh of relief cuts the tension in the air as my girl starts putting the fries back in the basket and looks up at me and says &quot;sorry mama.&quot; And as quickly as gravity caused the fries to fly to the floor, the moment was over. My precarious tot was back seated at the table and coloring like an angel. 

So please stop staring.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I&#39;m not sure if you know this or not...parenting is hard. It doesn&#39;t come with instructions. There are no short cuts, easy ways out or magic spells. It&#39;s hard, discouraging and an uphill climb. 

So maybe instead of staring at me, you could smile. I don&#39;t know, offer an encouraging &quot;it gets better&quot; pep talk. Or just ignore the fry flying, tamper tantrum, restaurant ruckus happening over here. After all, I promise not to stare at you every time you pound the table cause your team is loosing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;a very tired Mama&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/1880665825665594255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/06/dear-lady-stop-staring-at-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/1880665825665594255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/1880665825665594255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/06/dear-lady-stop-staring-at-me.html' title='Dear Lady, Stop Staring at Me!'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-8776394522194824919</id><published>2014-05-21T11:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2014-05-21T11:02:05.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Do Your Eyes Light Up?</title><content type='html'>I see it every day at work. Busy stressed out parents on their phones. &amp;nbsp;Now this isn&#39;t a post about the overuse and obsession our culture has with our smart phones. But yesterday as I sat at the &quot;welcome desk&quot; at work and saw parent after parent pick up their child with their ear glued to their phone my heart broke. Yes, I understand all too well the fact that some parents have to be on their phones. Patients, clients and families depend on their quick response to calls. I know that many of these parents have very important jobs in which life hangs in jeopardy at times and they must answer the call. But yet my heart breaks when I see parents pick up their children with a half hearted &quot;hello how was your day?&quot; While their attention is divided. Sometimes not even looking at their child as the hurriedly rush them out the door. Even when they aren&#39;t answering a call their eyes are glued to a little screen and their child fights for their attention.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I heard a quote from Maya Angelou years ago which has shaped my work and calling as a social worker who works with children. Yet it wasn&#39;t till I became a parent that the quote started to have true meaning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&quot;Do your eyes light up when you child or any child walks into a room?&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In typical Maya Angelou style, the quote pierces the heart. It is a quote I repeat in my head daily as I walk into Addysons room each morning to get her up. &quot;Do your eyes light up?&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I worked as a child and family therapist it was the basis of my work. As I walked into the lobby to great a client, a hurting family, a hopeless teen, a broken spirit; I made sure my eyes lit up. Seeing a child, &amp;nbsp;my child, or any child...I make sure my eyes light up. This involves somuch &amp;nbsp;more than a customary hello informality. It is the joy of seeing that child that is evident in your eyes. It is love. It is compassion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finding out I was pregnant was shocking and exciting, but till I held my precious newborn miracle in my arms I hadn&#39;t truly lived. I&#39;ll never forget the moment in the delivery room when the drill sergeant nurse told Andy to &quot;hold a leg&quot;. We laugh about it now, but it was in those moments of labor that I truly felt delivered of all the fears and worries I carried with me for the 9 months of pregnancy. The questions of &quot;is this for real?&quot; &quot;Will I actually hold my baby here on earth or in heaven?&quot; were honest questions that I never confessed out loud. Andy &quot;held a leg&quot; and was the first to lay eyes on our miracle baby. He saw her enter this world and I saw it...his eyes lit up. As they handed addyson to me all I could say was &quot;thank you.&quot; It was as if in that miraculous moment the Lord was right there and I couldn&#39;t help but thank Him.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So when I see parents with their children and after hours of not seeing their child they can&#39;t cut a phone call short or respond to that email later, my heart hurts. I hurt for the child who wants their parents attention and I hurt for the parent who is missing the opportunity to truly see their child. To show their child the joy and excitement they have in seeing them after the hours of being a part.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My boss understands this concept. Although I&#39;m not sure if she is familiar with the Maya Angelou quote she definitly understands the concept of lit up eyes. When she sees her son, who also attends our school, her eyes light up. She has genuine joy and excitement to see him. And it doesn&#39;t matter what she is doing at the time she stops and greets him with love and excitement. She gets it!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So my question is &quot;do your eyes light up?&quot; If you work with kids, do your eyes light up when you see them? If you are a teacher do your eyes light up when those students come into your classroom? Yes, even the one who you secretly wish could be absent...your eyes may be the only eyes that he sees light up. So do your eyes light up? Tired, sleep deprived mama...do your eyes light up?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I get ready to go into work...I&#39;m counting down the hours till I get to see my precious miracle baby tonight. Till I see her, my eyes will light up when I see the children at school. &lt;i&gt;Tonight&amp;nbsp;when I see my Addyson, my eyes will light up. Seeing her keeps me fully present in the moment each day!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/8776394522194824919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/05/do-your-eyes-light-up.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/8776394522194824919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/8776394522194824919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/05/do-your-eyes-light-up.html' title='Do Your Eyes Light Up?'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-5252832011431364098</id><published>2014-05-17T17:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2014-05-17T17:05:47.225-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking for God in the Unexpected</title><content type='html'>I have sat down to blog over and over again this past month and haven&#39;t had the words. I have many posts in the works but havent had the time or emotional energy to finish and post.&lt;br /&gt;
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May has been a whirlwind month that has brought with it unexpected struggles and blessings and although its not yet over I will not be defeated by this month.&lt;br /&gt;
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The month began with me going to a four day training for work. I had attended this type of training as a participant for two days when I was working as a school social worker, but this time I would be attending four days to become a trainer. The geeky girl in me was excited, yet my OCD brain was worried that the change in routine could be problematic. Hearing the instructors words after his introductions had me in fear...&quot;everyone will have to take and pass the instructor test on friday.&quot; It wasn&#39;t even 9:30 am on Tuesday morning and I felt the test anxiety rise within me. I immediatly slipped into my OCD counting trap. Looked for even numbers and found myself mentally clearing my schedule so I could study each night.&lt;br /&gt;
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The training was interesting and I felt so happy that my work allowed me to take part in it. Yet I found myself complaining each morning about the $10 parking as I walked into the building where the traing was held. Four days of training multiplied by 10 bucks a day was $40 i certanily didnt want to spend on parking. Yet as I walked to my car each aftrrnoon, I walked with a little pep in my step because, well I&#39;m a dork, and I love learning.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;Thursdsy afternoon when I got out of trainng I had to stop and pick up a few items from the grocery store for our small group which was meeting that night. Earlier in the day I found $10 in my purse. I had no idea where it came from since we never carry cash. Wondering if my hubby put it in there for me to get coffee or something, I stuffed it in a pocket and forgot about it.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;As I was picking up my items I saw a mom with four kids. It caught my eye because they didn&#39;t have a cart or any items in their hands. The kids looked really tired and the mom had a desperate look in her eyes. I couldnt find what I was looking for since I wasn&#39;t familiar with this stores layout but. I seemed to be a few aisles behind the mom and kids at every turn. As I stood in the salsa aisle I noticed the mom was asking people for money. I grabbed my salsa and quickly went to get the next item on my list...I didn&#39;t have time for this, I thought to myself. Yet at the next aisle I saw her again asking someone for change so she could get some gas. The person she asked ignored her plea and walked right past her and the four children in tow behind. I headed toward the check out and saw the mom leave with her kids tagging along. When I got to the register to pay, I saw the 10 dollar bill and got a lump in my throat. Instantly I knew I had to give the mom the ten bucks I found in my purse just hours earlier.&lt;br /&gt;
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When I left the store, I saw the mom and kids and stopped her to explain that I heard her asking for gas money. I said I usually don&#39;t have cash but did today and wanted her to have it. She grabbed me and before I realized it she was holding me in a bear hug and she was sobbing. She said &quot;thank you so much,I asked everyone in the store and no one gave me anything&quot;. She turned to her kids and said with tears in her eyes &quot;now we can go home.&quot; They cheered, hugged me and gave me high fives and said thank you. I got in my car and was overcome with emotion. I just sat and cried thanking God for this unexpected encounter. I cried thinking I had been complaining all week about the parking for this training that my job paid for me to attend. I cried thanking God for my job and for that random $10. I asked for forgiveness for being too busy for others and my selfishness.&lt;br /&gt;
It was easy to see God at work that day.&lt;br /&gt;
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This week I faced other unexpected things and have had to look for God at work. Its not the first time in my journey with the lord that I have questioned, doubted and feared what was happening around me. Lots of things were out of my control this week. Things that didn&#39;t seem fair, times I wanted to yell out to God because I felt like He forgot about me. There have been sleepless nights and lots of tears, yet the Lord has been present. Scrubbing the floors in my OCD way till my fingers were cracked and painful got my attention. It was as if the Lord stopped me and said &quot;you neeed to thank me even in the midst of your circumstances.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;In my looking for Him I realized that I have to focus more on the things I have, than all that I am without.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDmIzafG71Nts8fqCB4KGpQ30L9DQS3iiFZIrcwkeeiGZNp4rEqaVBR8xMVayQ9D0V28h_pcUcCt_Iy6nJZsdIywK_SQsuD1wz6RQa3lb4E39Jupk-pRSMPGBbqvOZ3ZVjf3b3AxVAmVR8/s1600/photo.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/AVvXsEgDmIzafG71Nts8fqCB4KGpQ30L9DQS3iiFZIrcwkeeiGZNp4rEqaVBR8xMVayQ9D0V28h_pcUcCt_Iy6nJZsdIywK_SQsuD1wz6RQa3lb4E39Jupk-pRSMPGBbqvOZ3ZVjf3b3AxVAmVR8/s1600/photo.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Last night I sat with Addyson and looked through her &quot;special box&quot;. A memory box that holds items from when she was a baby. Items like the outfit she wore home from the hospital, the newborn diaper that was too big for her, her id bracelet, hat and other momentos. Again in that unexpected trip down memory lane the Lord reminded me of His faithfulness. She is my daily reminder that God is still doing miracles today.&lt;br /&gt;
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Even in the midst of struggles there are many blessings.&lt;br /&gt;
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God is in the unexpected.&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;It is the unexpected gift cards from friends, the quiet times reading scripture, the bedtime prayers my toddler says, the surprise coffee with friends, the faithful prayers of Godly parents, the random photos my brother texts me and the &amp;nbsp;&quot;everythings going to be okay&quot; embrace of my husband that remind me to be fully present in the moment.&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/5252832011431364098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/05/looking-for-god-in-unexpected.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/5252832011431364098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/5252832011431364098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/05/looking-for-god-in-unexpected.html' title='Looking for God in the Unexpected'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDmIzafG71Nts8fqCB4KGpQ30L9DQS3iiFZIrcwkeeiGZNp4rEqaVBR8xMVayQ9D0V28h_pcUcCt_Iy6nJZsdIywK_SQsuD1wz6RQa3lb4E39Jupk-pRSMPGBbqvOZ3ZVjf3b3AxVAmVR8/s72-c/photo.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5947445003473597252.post-2657084826964992674</id><published>2014-04-04T08:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2014-04-04T08:52:57.697-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No f word allowed in my house!</title><content type='html'>Those of you with toddlers can relate to the repeat everything they hear phase of development. For some reason Eric Erickson&#39;s stages of development skipped this stage. And all the mommy blogs, parenting books and the &quot;what to expect...&quot; series didn&#39;t prepare me for the &amp;nbsp;parroting stage toddlers go through. It&#39;s that moment you are driving in the car talking to your spouse and you start to hear an echo in the back seat. When your toddler finds their voice and repeats everything they hear is when you as the adult are reminded how important it is to watch what you say around your precious tot. Mothers have a huge responsibility to set an example of Christ to their children. &lt;br /&gt;
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I was talking to a group of teen girls recently and shares with them that we don&#39;t use the &lt;em&gt;f&lt;/em&gt; word in our home. They started to laugh...no not that &lt;i&gt;f&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;word I said. We don&#39;t say the&lt;em&gt; f-a-t&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;f &lt;/em&gt;word (we don&#39;t use the other &lt;i&gt;f&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;word either, just to be clear). I started to explain to them the importance of viewing our bodies as a beautiful creation of God. We are fearfully and wonderfully made and I can&#39;t imagine how God feels when He hears us talk negativly about the masterpiece He created.&lt;br /&gt;
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When I found out I was pregnant with a girl I knew that I would be her first and best example of womanhood. As women we are all too often&amp;nbsp;overly critical of ourselves and of the body&amp;nbsp;that God created. Whether we intend to send the wrong message or not we must be cautious around the little ears in the back seat. If I describe myself negatively my echo toddler will think that it ok. She will see mama saying those things, hear me comparing my body to others and think that&#39;s how she should think and be.Yikes!&lt;br /&gt;
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I know all too well the importance of exercise and eating healthy as I&#39;m not at that point in life when I realize I&#39;m getting older and my body isn&#39;t as youthful as it once was. Funny how that happens. I was talking with some friends the other day and we joked about how if only we could have our college bodies back we would be skinny. We joked that at the time in college we thought we were so fat and now we would trade our &quot;more mature&quot; bodies for that college girl physique. Funny how life has a way of changing our perspective. &lt;br /&gt;
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I have found myself at times throughout my life being very critical of my body. We are always our worst critics. But while I was pregnant, and reached the highest number on the scale my eyes had ever seen, I became more intentional about how I talked about my body. After all my body was carrying another body...how cool is that?! God&#39;s design was amazing. My body was carrying my miracle baby and after experiencing&amp;nbsp;moments &lt;a href=&quot;http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2013/12/when-god-is-silent.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;when God is silent&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;the moments of being pregnant were incredible. Of course, those of you who have given birth know the days, weeks, and months after having a baby are not always so incredible. &lt;br /&gt;
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The days of being up all night holding a crying baby are thankfully over and my miracle baby now toddler if sleeping through the night. But those conversations with God while nursing&amp;nbsp;my baby or rocking her back to sleep spoke life changing messages to&amp;nbsp;this weary mama. It was in those moments that I made the conscious decision to stop using the &lt;em&gt;f &lt;/em&gt;word. I remember telling my hubby that we wouldn&#39;t be using the &lt;em&gt;f &lt;/em&gt;word in describing ourselves or the bodies of others and we would never use it around Addyson. I wanted Addyson to hear us talking about the bodies God created with respect and pride in&amp;nbsp;His&amp;nbsp;handiwork. &amp;nbsp;Now we aren&#39;t immune to the world&#39;s messages that thin is beautiful and the airbrushed, photo shopped images we see everywhere still cause me to cringe thinking about my not so skinny booty trying to get into &quot;skinny jeans&quot;. Yes, I still think that I am &lt;em&gt;f-a-t&lt;/em&gt; from time to time, but the commitment I have made to not using the &lt;em&gt;f &lt;/em&gt;word causes me to break the negative self talk and return my attention to the beautiful creation that I am, the one God created. &lt;br /&gt;
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My hopes and dreams for Addyson is to grow up knowing that she is fearfully and wonderfully made my her creator God. I want her to see parents who love her, love each other, love themselves and most importantly love God. Part of loving myself involves taking care of this body that God created, this may be the one area that this OCD mama isn&#39;t going to obsess over. Ultimately I know that I am a beautiful masterpiece of God&#39;s creation and I plan to model that thinking for Addyson. So if you spend time with my family, especially my miracle baby remember the &lt;em&gt;f&lt;/em&gt; word isn&#39;t allowed in my house! &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;Live fully present in the moment!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/feeds/2657084826964992674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/04/no-f-word-allowed-in-my-house.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/2657084826964992674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5947445003473597252/posts/default/2657084826964992674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://befullypresent.blogspot.com/2014/04/no-f-word-allowed-in-my-house.html' title='No f word allowed in my house!'/><author><name>Ashley Barnette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16167379542737967675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3P__Xf-_6x0/Sf4aD0-IjPI/AAAAAAAAAOw/sC5Kdak2a_Y/S220/Bahama+Mama+052.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>