tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57090646189661240452024-03-10T20:20:51.423-07:00Gay N. LewisGay N. Lewis, Christian romance author of the Sarah series. Stories filled with humor and faith. If you like the humor of Janet Evanovich or Ann B. Ross, you'll like my stories. You'll laugh at Sarah, a dysfunctional, dyslexic angel who tries to master assignments on Earth. With the humor, comes tidbits of insight into faith and human frailties. Learn more about my books at https://www.amazon.com/Gay-N-Lewis/e/B00AAVJ4G0. Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.comBlogger815125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-45838955171124173842024-03-06T14:22:00.000-08:002024-03-06T14:22:48.356-08:00The Diamond Mine of Christian Fiction: Interview and Giveaway with Gay N. Lewis!!<div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Check out my interview. Don't you love this name, Diamond Mine? I'm giving away a free book.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://diamondsinfiction.blogspot.com/2024/03/interview-and-giveaway-with-gay-n-lewis.html?spref=bl">The Diamond Mine of Christian Fiction: Interview and Giveaway with Gay N. Lewis!!</a>: </span>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-60041125445596750612024-02-14T13:36:00.000-08:002024-02-14T14:49:49.719-08:00A Valentine Treat<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk6FfY4gGQ2ilH0CpPTYb9GIKIc3kBwclbhJJyexZ8wZXoohkGZX-wSTkmXXA-sgjfp0aNfCS9WMMdbLBhAGLnNrSGzCEDgTx9G2F0-cxifxEpCyklgs27G7iDjR_bQHcdm8qkjw2hlz1NAlo3l0l-jBQwerKkEnTpUQ7jfZc4bXBJL4wR6VqfRdm00om7/s2016/strawberry%20cake%20disaster.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk6FfY4gGQ2ilH0CpPTYb9GIKIc3kBwclbhJJyexZ8wZXoohkGZX-wSTkmXXA-sgjfp0aNfCS9WMMdbLBhAGLnNrSGzCEDgTx9G2F0-cxifxEpCyklgs27G7iDjR_bQHcdm8qkjw2hlz1NAlo3l0l-jBQwerKkEnTpUQ7jfZc4bXBJL4wR6VqfRdm00om7/w480-h640/strawberry%20cake%20disaster.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><p><br /></p><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">Several years ago, I decided to make a red cake for my hubby for Valentine's Day. The cake was a disaster, and it literally fell apart. The thing collapsed from the pan in chunks.</span><p></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">Being the inventive person that I am, I created a parfait. I broke the cake into bite-sized pieces and layered them with whipped cream. I placed the entire mess into a fluted glass and garnished the top with Strawberries. </span></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">I think the treat turned out better than a big cake. I dolled it up with a card and chocolates. Hubby loved it, and I didn't tell him how it came to be. So let's keep that our secret.</span></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">I made a cherry pie for our first Valentine's as a married couple. That didn't turn out well, either. Hubby saw my tears and said, "Why didn't you buy a frozen one? That would have been fine with me."</span></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">He is a sweetheart and has managed to live through my cooking failures.</span></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">This year, I'm not baking.</span></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">However, I have a treat for everyone!</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQBF3LMcXOP5VKxNfFg0_sB_BWArEFT82Cyrd8WgxDxz6UpAy6QZr_B0MFnf4PkLHMbwKT9SFmKAuFFhtNReqFerZQwH0FrXVymp-7UQWttV91BRb9FERUFGgYLPKWq8gMvV1AgJ8PSDF6fps6-LCrKfbq-xs4umvFMQtWnIwigO5WobMEb8K5_ZBawhT/s2560/Sarah's%20First%20Mission%20to%20Earth%20copy%20(4).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQBF3LMcXOP5VKxNfFg0_sB_BWArEFT82Cyrd8WgxDxz6UpAy6QZr_B0MFnf4PkLHMbwKT9SFmKAuFFhtNReqFerZQwH0FrXVymp-7UQWttV91BRb9FERUFGgYLPKWq8gMvV1AgJ8PSDF6fps6-LCrKfbq-xs4umvFMQtWnIwigO5WobMEb8K5_ZBawhT/s320/Sarah's%20First%20Mission%20to%20Earth%20copy%20(4).jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div><br /></div><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">My new book is on sale today! Yay! And the story is about Sarah, a dyslexic angel, who must find Tom a mate by Valentine's Day. Like my baking, she makes a mess.</span><div><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">I love the last few chapters. Tom takes Marcy, the lady of his dreams, to a fancy restaurant in Houston. The gifts he gives to his love are sweet and special. Men should be as romantic as Tom in this book. I even cried while I wrote the chapter. I laughed a lot too. Sarah does that to you.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">While it's on sale, grab a copy. Both eBook and print are on sale.</span></div><div><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3ub3uI8">On Amazon</a><br /></span></div><div><div><p><br /></p><p> </p></div></div>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-30098243859658244882024-02-05T11:43:00.000-08:002024-02-05T11:45:56.566-08:00The First and Last<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80bsm-Pmg2HhpdlK2Clo-dvwFElnqaLK71fC4FYS1WdLCc1oPU-KpiUdrd7qIR733e4T3Xz0Xj_kL20Bh46EClaQtija7NN5FoNGdww6XFkp96rw4BA9njOYfReDAJKzqD7xqSwMEfbI8GmvF_603ua0EpwEDXBAJNUEMWEquxzn8NgY4ql0Da54Gs7E7/s640/God%20takes%20bone%20from%20Adam.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="567" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80bsm-Pmg2HhpdlK2Clo-dvwFElnqaLK71fC4FYS1WdLCc1oPU-KpiUdrd7qIR733e4T3Xz0Xj_kL20Bh46EClaQtija7NN5FoNGdww6XFkp96rw4BA9njOYfReDAJKzqD7xqSwMEfbI8GmvF_603ua0EpwEDXBAJNUEMWEquxzn8NgY4ql0Da54Gs7E7/s320/God%20takes%20bone%20from%20Adam.webp" width="284" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">God created the <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first</span></b> man. Then, He decided Adam needed a
sidekick, so God fashioned the <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first</span></b> woman. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">God administered the </span><span style="color: #ffa400; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;"><b>first</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;"> anesthetic and performed the </span><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">first</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;"> surgery. And there she was.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Adam looked at his new wife and said, “Wow! You’re my bony.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, he meant she was a
bone from his side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the other hand,
women these days want to be bony, so if a hubby makes this statement to a wife,
she might take it as a compliment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">However, if a man says, “Wifey, you are a bone in my
flesh.” Oops! That’s a different intonation. And that would probably be the<b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;"> last </span></b>thing he said to
her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">But I digress.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Eve ate <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first,</span></b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;"> </span>and
it was the<b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;"> last</span></b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;"> </span>innocent bite she took.
She gave the forbidden food to her hubby, Adam. He chomped down, and together,
they committed the <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first</span></b>
sin. God had forbidden that fruit. But it looked so good!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElXrTxtppQt6v78Y4pvC7ypi8QvKYpfRq6STTZIqKivjpPV67Yo_R4EhNjubfNg3G1ueyABr8P0xUWFCupzzL5IWUwt70FjiVCbNpu8COTkUmKp4_f69_gYNKs_on0_szNQtGtg2zLE5Mlg6kvcgCfJ74jv0vd6Y5xVfN8oOuqpeT9MznAD8U-Rx17wix/s640/Adam%20and%20Eve%20in%20animal%20skins.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="387" data-original-width="640" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElXrTxtppQt6v78Y4pvC7ypi8QvKYpfRq6STTZIqKivjpPV67Yo_R4EhNjubfNg3G1ueyABr8P0xUWFCupzzL5IWUwt70FjiVCbNpu8COTkUmKp4_f69_gYNKs_on0_szNQtGtg2zLE5Mlg6kvcgCfJ74jv0vd6Y5xVfN8oOuqpeT9MznAD8U-Rx17wix/s320/Adam%20and%20Eve%20in%20animal%20skins.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Adam and Eve discovered their naked condition, and
they didn’t like it. They initiated their <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first</span></b> mutual project by sewing foliage, but
Fig Leaves didn’t do the trick. Therefore, God fashioned clothes for them. God
sacrificed the <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first </span></b>animals
to make coverings for the couple.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi68lmIWEwqn0OM2bN8vzzbNCDQEDakuhE1aV0t0wCz7v5HdTsQsH9I6HzkXDWRKrgjnY8mFCgZNS7ygXlfT_fYlauipqZYHNKrHvbFYHuzHym8DOkquMT3uKYgHFFZZFnm1MDLfQV3mNIz7Y9leFxcVoWaydjl8_OEfBKaybNiJ5PMzOp8FY9D4LdVfLkG/s640/twins%20cain%20and%20abel.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="425" data-original-width="640" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi68lmIWEwqn0OM2bN8vzzbNCDQEDakuhE1aV0t0wCz7v5HdTsQsH9I6HzkXDWRKrgjnY8mFCgZNS7ygXlfT_fYlauipqZYHNKrHvbFYHuzHym8DOkquMT3uKYgHFFZZFnm1MDLfQV3mNIz7Y9leFxcVoWaydjl8_OEfBKaybNiJ5PMzOp8FY9D4LdVfLkG/s320/twins%20cain%20and%20abel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Later, Adam and Eve had their <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first </span></b>children: Cain
and Abel. I guess they were happy about that. Until that is, Cain killed his
brother, Abel. Uh oh! Cain committed the <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first </span></b>murder.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Consequently, Abel was the <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first</span></b> human to enter heaven.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">God watched His <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first</span></b> human race grow into a sinful
civilization. Mankind multiplied, and sin did as well. God was displeased and
decided to destroy most of His creation. But one guy, Noah, found grace in the
eyes of the Lord. Noah was the<b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;"> first</span></b> to find this grace.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwueE4ELtqC-vrJHlhnmr7SbdSJ-ycpTVE31xcLn7co5Ds8PIRtC1gxqBIrTH-iV0kOGkPVU-GufKOZnk2HdLgPkbku4SRTlJv8iMc26lk9xGiA_QWhlcN3MxzGnYjMZTtNtmLU37U-icTdHpuJoPVgd9Z0ANpPmLRx3lWEupszNkguJSjDgWsdqzDJN_v/s640/Noah's%20Ark%20and%20man.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="361" data-original-width="640" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwueE4ELtqC-vrJHlhnmr7SbdSJ-ycpTVE31xcLn7co5Ds8PIRtC1gxqBIrTH-iV0kOGkPVU-GufKOZnk2HdLgPkbku4SRTlJv8iMc26lk9xGiA_QWhlcN3MxzGnYjMZTtNtmLU37U-icTdHpuJoPVgd9Z0ANpPmLRx3lWEupszNkguJSjDgWsdqzDJN_v/s320/Noah's%20Ark%20and%20man.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">God liked Noah so much, He said to him, “Get to work
and build a boat. I’m going to send rain and destroy the Earth, but you and
your family will be spared.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Noah said, “What is rain?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVH_l9kWql3BE2Toa_sjhbW3_sZNL0qPf85CZSlk8_CRB0dOb6OiWlrlaT9TfuwB-Vpu7OnAF_FndiXNshWqWg6akXJ68YLJCfHiQ2NxVs8JYofhULSBTzeSCJE2La9R283dTk5ZnrNJ_9yYWhxJe-CobIHLvPibDzeGGdBpVsUCUX41XAMOHCo3_5nxd/s1280/rain.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="847" data-original-width="1280" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVH_l9kWql3BE2Toa_sjhbW3_sZNL0qPf85CZSlk8_CRB0dOb6OiWlrlaT9TfuwB-Vpu7OnAF_FndiXNshWqWg6akXJ68YLJCfHiQ2NxVs8JYofhULSBTzeSCJE2La9R283dTk5ZnrNJ_9yYWhxJe-CobIHLvPibDzeGGdBpVsUCUX41XAMOHCo3_5nxd/s320/rain.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">God said, “Until now, I’ve watered the Earth from the
ground up, but this will be a <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first</span><span style="color: red;">.</span></b><span style="color: red;"> </span>Water will fall from the sky. I’m calling it rain.
Get your family and two of a kind of each animal to board the Ark you are
building, and don’t forget the creepy, crawlies. I want two of each of those
also.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">So Old Noah was the <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first </span></b>to be obedient, and he believed
everything God said. That, my friends, is why he found grace in the eyes of the
Lord.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Time passed, and Noah finished his task. God is a
Keeper of His Word. As soon as God shut the gigantic door to the Ark, God’s new
invention, rain, flooded the Earth with water. All animals and mankind who
weren’t on the boat drowned in the deluge. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDI5coEcyEiQgouqGHTfqtflVRYpwA1DtVO-I7LfNUJYulR1iynMlTII424-xLxa_n7LQoCtyVYlebCwZ5LWlWQDcfTIebuXMHJu_6VQZvjDX3aDJoAPsQSqkoFpZTpEvmzB2XEJTufcI2M-RXbbWyptBjhxwoLwdgMHK9F-AHu3AeQfW2I3_DK5B9_Z3p/s1280/Noah's%20Ark.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="712" data-original-width="1280" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDI5coEcyEiQgouqGHTfqtflVRYpwA1DtVO-I7LfNUJYulR1iynMlTII424-xLxa_n7LQoCtyVYlebCwZ5LWlWQDcfTIebuXMHJu_6VQZvjDX3aDJoAPsQSqkoFpZTpEvmzB2XEJTufcI2M-RXbbWyptBjhxwoLwdgMHK9F-AHu3AeQfW2I3_DK5B9_Z3p/s320/Noah's%20Ark.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnIUnqe0Mitsn4k1WX8jE64-3FlP7nSFH4HWMH-b8D6g-65ZKkJTpKBR5elwYQbLVF8B3zsUGGCHnW146ujtYNjVXnqh7Ukc4IkywVDa1fzMTTvZYWaKT-G6WgnuJvDHsUy2EdKmJYLcv-1us_W6df5TdkDAN1S84PM2EaF1TjLOQ5kt40dRg644me5vOf/s640/rain%20destroys%20earth.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="424" data-original-width="640" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnIUnqe0Mitsn4k1WX8jE64-3FlP7nSFH4HWMH-b8D6g-65ZKkJTpKBR5elwYQbLVF8B3zsUGGCHnW146ujtYNjVXnqh7Ukc4IkywVDa1fzMTTvZYWaKT-G6WgnuJvDHsUy2EdKmJYLcv-1us_W6df5TdkDAN1S84PM2EaF1TjLOQ5kt40dRg644me5vOf/s320/rain%20destroys%20earth.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">This was the <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first</span></b> judgment of mankind.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWRK4hsRqrnnqVLk3ZHlfTdY3bjavOE5ozv_AcLvOsS8GIq6SXv1hJiDoOLB78_CcMWa7fCM27UvnO7aXpOZHvKKaim1j8Lkxl0X3vTaFLBxU8EbqYyoONOzo183FgawpgSfPE-37n7sQSMgwpe6iAb_Dmzwkw2PnDoMuA5HA4ibskc63UEizWC_0eJRT/s640/rainbow%20and%20water.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWRK4hsRqrnnqVLk3ZHlfTdY3bjavOE5ozv_AcLvOsS8GIq6SXv1hJiDoOLB78_CcMWa7fCM27UvnO7aXpOZHvKKaim1j8Lkxl0X3vTaFLBxU8EbqYyoONOzo183FgawpgSfPE-37n7sQSMgwpe6iAb_Dmzwkw2PnDoMuA5HA4ibskc63UEizWC_0eJRT/s320/rainbow%20and%20water.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">After the flood was over, God promised the earthlings,
“That is the <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">last</span></b>
time I’ll destroy the Earth with water. I'll give you the <span style="color: #ffa400;"><b>first</b></span> rainbow as my pledge.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Now let’s review.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Adam and Eve…<b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first </span></b>humans.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Adam and Eve…<b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first</span></b> sinners.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Cain…<b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first</span></b> murderer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Abel…<b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first</span></b> human to be a Heaven resident.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">The Flood…<b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">first</span></b> judgment of God on His creation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">The Flood…<b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">last</span></b> time God will destroy by water.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Rainbow...<span style="color: #ffa400;"><b>first </b></span>one ever.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Scripture tells us God will judge humanity the<b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;"> last</span></b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;"> </span>time by fire.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">If a person chooses to ignore God’s Son, Jesus, he
will live in a lake of fire.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Yikes!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Those people mocking old Noah could have changed their
minds, become believers, got on board the Ark, and missed drowning. The same is
true today. Believe and escape the promised fire to come.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">When will this <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">last</span></b> judgment take place? No one knows, but
I suspect it will be shortly after the<b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;"> last</span></b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;"> </span>believer
on Earth enters Heaven. Jesus gave us the task of witnessing to all nations.
After the <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">last</span></b>
person hears, and the <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">last</span></b>
someone decides to become a believer, Jesus will return. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">God knows knows who the <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">last</span></b> believer will be. He gives us all the
opportunity to respond, but judgment comes to those who do not accept His plan
of the ages.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">And God promised a <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">last</span></b> judgment.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">In the scheme of events, will you be <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">last</span></b>? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">God is the Alpha and Omega. He’s <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">First</span></b> and <b><span style="color: #ed7d31; mso-themecolor: accent2;">Last. </span>What He says goes.</b><o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3KGcyrc"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">Gay's Books</span></a><br /></div><p></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-8895322121150089012024-01-26T14:58:00.000-08:002024-01-26T17:33:31.236-08:00The First Nudist Camp<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaNBg3VVWHxsKCNu3ET5XLGoWSplBKDYdRgdO1iCY1xbIhOMgxEZUYut1ss_pVXiOIBkEGHocTEp8yPnW-OfFtI-QvB8R43Sl81TlTxIJ2MPkTSNPUidC-X2GPF_CymzlPL8j5AazrBpKtYR4pOfplyyhTDuzfA1ljHY2RHgrD4ZV_BxX0EYiazU4sYQbK/s640/Garden%20of%20Eden%20Adam%20and%20Eve.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="528" data-original-width="640" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaNBg3VVWHxsKCNu3ET5XLGoWSplBKDYdRgdO1iCY1xbIhOMgxEZUYut1ss_pVXiOIBkEGHocTEp8yPnW-OfFtI-QvB8R43Sl81TlTxIJ2MPkTSNPUidC-X2GPF_CymzlPL8j5AazrBpKtYR4pOfplyyhTDuzfA1ljHY2RHgrD4ZV_BxX0EYiazU4sYQbK/w400-h330/Garden%20of%20Eden%20Adam%20and%20Eve.webp" width="400" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Have you visited a nudist camp? Lived in one?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">No? Me either.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Yes? What did you think? Did you undress and become
part of the society?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">I would find it awkward and embarrassing to visit one.
And no way would I take off my clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’d wear layers of garments, a large sombrero, and dark sunglasses. I’d
also get out of there ASAP.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Adam and Eve lived in the first nudist camp. Well, actually
it was a beautiful garden, but they were both naked and weren’t ashamed by this
lack of covering.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">They were happy with their condition.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Eve had no laundry to do. No ironing. No shopping for
new apparel. No binding bras. No worries about if an outfit was the correct choice,
and no fear the shoes would fit or not. She didn’t have a woman to criticize an
outfit.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Adam had no neckties to strangle him. No corporate
ladder to climb. No decision between boxers or tighty whities. All he did was let
it all hang loose.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">The first pair of humans lived unadorned and without
concerns of any kind. No civil laws to say otherwise.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Can you imagine running through the bushes wild and unrestricted?
There were no thorns or stickers on the ground to hurt bare feet.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 16pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCLZoGWL7lm7Eh1PTv5K-aRuHKVGmkuHkOuYRXSX3ya3s16Nf-PrEoBoT-HlfoSm29oWlJzQ3Z4ED5quevU8DTF5F6Hr7QdtRuvfTQ_FEtmccLgSx5uD0Q_gXhHCtYOW60OHVWgSWzuCt7ZrrPm8RVkSsOqoueAiNaaWEgBrpgycxnJZuWi7EmDCzMDe_u" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="270" data-original-width="640" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCLZoGWL7lm7Eh1PTv5K-aRuHKVGmkuHkOuYRXSX3ya3s16Nf-PrEoBoT-HlfoSm29oWlJzQ3Z4ED5quevU8DTF5F6Hr7QdtRuvfTQ_FEtmccLgSx5uD0Q_gXhHCtYOW60OHVWgSWzuCt7ZrrPm8RVkSsOqoueAiNaaWEgBrpgycxnJZuWi7EmDCzMDe_u" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;"></div></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">These two were comfortable with each other. They also
enjoyed the variety of animals. Here’s a thought. I suppose dogs didn’t sniff a
backside back in those days. If they did, Adam might have wished for a pair of
Hanes boxers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Many people talk to their pets, and
sometimes, the animal responds with a bark or a meow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, Eve conversed with a snake, and the reptile
responded by speaking to her in the same language. Whatever that was. Anyway,
they understood each other.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">The snake, AKA as Satan, convinced Eve to eat a
forbidden fruit, and the newlywed Eve persuaded her hubby to dine with her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Uh-oh! The situation changed in the blink of an eye.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">They looked at each other and simultaneously declared,
“You’re naked.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Freedom ended. Work began. “Quick, let’s make a
covering.” They shouted to each other.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">The duo gathered fig leaves and sewed them together to
hide their bodies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They lucked out by selecting
fig leaves. What if they had chosen poison ivy? Mercy! What an itch that would
have been.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Evidently, they didn’t think the fig leaves did a
proper job of hiding their brand-new discovery of nakedness. When God came
looking for them, they hid behind trees. They weren’t into showing off their
new clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But of course, one can’t
hide from God.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">God had told them not to eat that particular fruit,
but they disobeyed, and they suffered consequences.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">God provided the proper fashion. He slayed an animal
or maybe two of His precious creatures to provide clothes for the pair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since the duo only ate fruit and veggies,
they must not have been overweight, so perhaps one animal skin provided enough cover
for the two of them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Eve still went braless, so there is that.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">God drove them from their perfect home, and they began
to work. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">This account of the Fall of Man is true and accurate, and
I’m sorry all of humanity is born into sin, but I’m grateful we now wear
clothes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Unless you live in a nudist society.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> But if you do, d</span>on’t send pictures. Thank you in advance.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://bit.ly/3Sn2xES"><span style="font-size: x-large;">G. N. Lewis on Amazon</span></a><br /></div><p></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-15950441686237495452024-01-18T03:27:00.000-08:002024-01-18T03:27:16.963-08:00Perspective<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/FYOYnNw3_Sc" width="320" youtube-src-id="FYOYnNw3_Sc"></iframe></div><br /> <p></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-11597760166109518592024-01-09T07:12:00.000-08:002024-01-09T07:12:55.171-08:00A Healthy New Year<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: center; text-autospace: none;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw3iWRqAJamj24Yg49I96Bk_edZskWR0Y3ZkHQIF7nmfnmesr4BFutiV_E7ksZMlml2iUUPvXMPjREHinpvHP4ku7ACGlUcnIjgziwHOeRKc8nfpf52EyzfkpKaePpzE-bwZbQMSK2TvkPW9cdNg4bzTDYsJ_eKnMzcaDMt6WM6a25_6EGb5hWc4iJ9AN5/s640/weight%20scales.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="466" data-original-width="640" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw3iWRqAJamj24Yg49I96Bk_edZskWR0Y3ZkHQIF7nmfnmesr4BFutiV_E7ksZMlml2iUUPvXMPjREHinpvHP4ku7ACGlUcnIjgziwHOeRKc8nfpf52EyzfkpKaePpzE-bwZbQMSK2TvkPW9cdNg4bzTDYsJ_eKnMzcaDMt6WM6a25_6EGb5hWc4iJ9AN5/w400-h291/weight%20scales.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #383838;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="color: #383838;">During the pandemic, the average
weight gain for Americans was fifteen pounds. Whoa Nellie! That’s a lot in a
short period of time.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #383838; font-size: large;">The Bible doesn’t talk much
about one’s poundage, but Dr. Luke in the New Testament talks about a guy names Zacchaeus.
Luke describes him as a short man who climbed a sycamore-fig tree so he could
see Jesus. (Luke 19).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #383838;"><span style="font-size: large;">In Matthew, chapter 6, Jesus
tells us not to worry about what we will eat, drink or wear. However, in this
passage, Jesus isn’t giving a diet for food. He’s telling us not to worry.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #383838;"><span style="font-size: large;">People did a lot of walking back in Jesus' day. It was the main means of transportation. I doubt many in that era faced the amount of pounds we do today.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #383838;">But back to fat, unhealthy
obesity. </span><span style="color: #383838; mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: #383838;">That’s a concern as we start a New Year.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #383838; font-size: large;">If your goal this year is to
become healthier, here are a few suggestions a few friends offered.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #383838; font-family: "Times",serif; font-size: large;">I asked a friend how she had lost weight. She responded, “One bite at a time.” Another one said, “I leave food
on my plate.” The third person said, “I never go back for seconds.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #383838; font-family: "Times",serif; font-size: large;">Leave a
bite of each food item on the plate, If you have three items, leave three bites
and never go back for seconds. This plan simply calls for cutting back on foods you normally eat and enjoy.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #383838; font-family: "Times",serif;">This sounds like a good plan to me, and I am going to try it. I gained ten pounds in the last ten months. Why? Probably stress. </span><span style="color: #383838; font-family: Times, serif;">I like food, and it matters not as to my mental outlook. I</span><span style="color: #383838; font-family: Times, serif;"> eat when I'm mad, unhappy, glad, depressed, sick, worried...and so on.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #383838; font-family: Times, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Let's strive for health.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #383838; font-family: "Times",serif; font-size: large;">And
remember: the most important health element is our spiritual health.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjov3wV4GErbkKHPSXNUHRHDGINPGlPHxeweU_JYhcGWc-LH8T5cmbfVECsRYX0hSjEyi60Hcfdki75LfVNM0pvBATVnPMHLmi5EYJXgIyZ308N2KNOpKewFpdRbYbJeo8j7atDoB0x6ZBUm3U6g8AwqwLwgwFeU-zihDdyruF4L4lu4rVip9TPuRHqQotp/s640/bible%20JPG.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="358" data-original-width="640" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjov3wV4GErbkKHPSXNUHRHDGINPGlPHxeweU_JYhcGWc-LH8T5cmbfVECsRYX0hSjEyi60Hcfdki75LfVNM0pvBATVnPMHLmi5EYJXgIyZ308N2KNOpKewFpdRbYbJeo8j7atDoB0x6ZBUm3U6g8AwqwLwgwFeU-zihDdyruF4L4lu4rVip9TPuRHqQotp/w301-h168/bible%20JPG.webp" width="301" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5QzlMWn7hnuV8TW_uVEEgbi81U55PZjHON6l2_BYzmVIsJ_ZDTrfNO8DgV2C1t-fw8Lhj33ewKuWvhhZUi8XiSKiZBNrZNhWgv14RQ1G0VbXRQhbdoiwyy3MNE1xSQ-Ssi4bMWbUE2Pkp8Nlk_pAfePfJxVMIri4W-xt1qQfqN-fzVmPvKcn2Ac5OE2n/s1920/chapel%20or%20church.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5QzlMWn7hnuV8TW_uVEEgbi81U55PZjHON6l2_BYzmVIsJ_ZDTrfNO8DgV2C1t-fw8Lhj33ewKuWvhhZUi8XiSKiZBNrZNhWgv14RQ1G0VbXRQhbdoiwyy3MNE1xSQ-Ssi4bMWbUE2Pkp8Nlk_pAfePfJxVMIri4W-xt1qQfqN-fzVmPvKcn2Ac5OE2n/s1920/chapel%20or%20church.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1920" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5QzlMWn7hnuV8TW_uVEEgbi81U55PZjHON6l2_BYzmVIsJ_ZDTrfNO8DgV2C1t-fw8Lhj33ewKuWvhhZUi8XiSKiZBNrZNhWgv14RQ1G0VbXRQhbdoiwyy3MNE1xSQ-Ssi4bMWbUE2Pkp8Nlk_pAfePfJxVMIri4W-xt1qQfqN-fzVmPvKcn2Ac5OE2n/w266-h177/chapel%20or%20church.jpg" width="266" /></a> </div></div><br /><span style="color: #383838; font-family: "Times",serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="b2" style="background: rgb(245, 248, 251); margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: left; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: black; font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span class="v2"><span style="color: black;">So
whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: black; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><a href="https://dailyverses.net/1-corinthians/10/31"><b><span style="color: #336699;">1 Corinthians 10:31</span></b></a><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><o:p><span style="font-size: large; text-decoration: none;"> <a href="https://amzn.to/3KGcyrc">Gay's Author Page</a></span></o:p></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><o:p><span style="font-size: large; text-decoration: none;"> A Video of <a href="https://www.facebook.com/watch/live/?ref=search&v=1386738918411042">Gay Teaching A Bible Study</a></span></o:p></u></b></p><p></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-3133018992759863152023-12-24T05:00:00.000-08:002023-12-26T13:57:32.040-08:00Mary's Baby<p> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-TY3EegnHaT6O0GELsFDxabTYWLHUOHPmGKS9LCarq21B6ML85MkzzzfxjU_wkYsdX13yQWTaGfC7S_3L_KMH2h4ZKEnlbbTEOSG60QNLhtnzm29SaWzx02QyyQES_fxDXaURNufyoWOtzoKCCzdYk6CblveXlUiCxLnzorkiGh0IY491WTI4rYw_Zkkv/s640/new%20born%20baby.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-TY3EegnHaT6O0GELsFDxabTYWLHUOHPmGKS9LCarq21B6ML85MkzzzfxjU_wkYsdX13yQWTaGfC7S_3L_KMH2h4ZKEnlbbTEOSG60QNLhtnzm29SaWzx02QyyQES_fxDXaURNufyoWOtzoKCCzdYk6CblveXlUiCxLnzorkiGh0IY491WTI4rYw_Zkkv/s320/new%20born%20baby.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 20pt;">Most mothers think their baby is the cutest, sweetest,
and brightest baby ever born, and they believe their child will grow up to make
a major contribution to the world.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">If the mom holds athletics in her DNA, perhaps she
dreams her baby will become another Tom Brady or a Michael Jordan. If the mom’s
family is known for high IQs, she imagines her child will be another Einstein.
But present-day mothers can merely hope and fantasize about their baby’s
destiny.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">The Virgin Mary knew with certainty that her baby was
special. An angel told her. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">When the angel, Gabriel, told the virgin Mary she
would have a baby boy, Gabriel also told the terrified teenage mother-to-be
that her baby would be the Son of the Most High, would rule over the house of
Jacob, and His rule would have no end. Luke 1:30. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">No need for an ultrasound here. Mary received a Divine
Revelation. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">What was in Mary’s DNA to make this baby special?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">She belonged to the tribe of Judah.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">Other than her ancestry, Scripture doesn’t divulge why
she found favor with God.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">Did Gabriel tell Mary her son would die on the cross?
Nope. He didn’t reveal that.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">Did Gabriel say, “And by the way, your heart will
break as you watch your son die.” Nope. He left that out.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">Did ole Gabe tell her how to raise this special child?
Nope, nary a word.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">That little teenage girl knew she carried a special
baby, but like all mothers, she didn’t know the future. She was a mere mortal,
chosen to live an astonishing life as a parent to a normal baby who really
wasn’t normal. He was an ordinary baby, with typical infant needs, but He was also the
Son of God. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">How did Mary parent Him?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;">With love, affection, and discipline. That’s what
mothers do.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3G3ZdZm">Sarah and a Texas Christmas</a><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-58105528056632552462023-12-13T14:37:00.000-08:002023-12-26T13:57:59.043-08:00Children's Books<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Hnf-DVlAk80KVmCrRSMf1gL7QXbrA5OAI7pBI9sg4w4yKSn3XhheWSeugFCF1KB1SE5AUQhczd3P_ZOruFHH7TO3G530D5tnKPVYMwTpX8Nokjtb3nzk5D-ArRPhrJlES9JhY-9yTpOk1j_sEcm87aqnoasrHk1IXrJTLFk9_owiTMTPZ9eWwyDAGuCn/s640/child%20reading%20book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Hnf-DVlAk80KVmCrRSMf1gL7QXbrA5OAI7pBI9sg4w4yKSn3XhheWSeugFCF1KB1SE5AUQhczd3P_ZOruFHH7TO3G530D5tnKPVYMwTpX8Nokjtb3nzk5D-ArRPhrJlES9JhY-9yTpOk1j_sEcm87aqnoasrHk1IXrJTLFk9_owiTMTPZ9eWwyDAGuCn/s320/child%20reading%20book.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://pixabay.com/images/search/reading%20to%20a%20child/">https://pixabay.com/images/search/reading%20to%20a%20child/</a><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Have you shopped for any books for your kids lately?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I stopped at the General Dollar store today. “It will
be a quick shopping trip,” or so I thought to myself. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I found no children’s books anywhere in stock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked the cashier about them. “No, we don’t
carry them at this store.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Odd, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They once did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it is
Christmas, so why wouldn’t there be plenty around?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Oh well,” I thought, “The CVS will have them. I’ll
pick some up there.” Would you believe it? No books on shelves, either. The
cashier had the same story. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Kroger’s Market
was next on the list. Nope. Nada. Nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Personnel said they don’t carry children’s books these days.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I knew Dr. Suess was disappearing from shelves, but
what happened to other authors of children's books? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I suppose it’s easier for a store to cease carrying
books rather than sift through which ones are culturally correct.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Folks, this is sad. Parents need to protest!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Nothing is sweeter than reading a book to a
child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They cuddle in your lap and look
at pictures. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My grandson loved Clifford; it is long gone, and I
wanted to buy another one.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYRV8WySKqc25OmwoEOVOKwge6kht5-An5qr428ZBOQYQqhZoqRj3ikTfspaDn0yn53onDx9rqrQcUdGkmFtNnuHZEmcOddl_VwXXZkuBmmgIbPAeTpxhxgqviB-OjKn6o-KaWgX_Whus9gscnFj0gHpBZfi-Rv9R3X5XU00XItO4am8iRJZcPjHcOgFqm/s320/The%20Red%20Dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="320" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYRV8WySKqc25OmwoEOVOKwge6kht5-An5qr428ZBOQYQqhZoqRj3ikTfspaDn0yn53onDx9rqrQcUdGkmFtNnuHZEmcOddl_VwXXZkuBmmgIbPAeTpxhxgqviB-OjKn6o-KaWgX_Whus9gscnFj0gHpBZfi-Rv9R3X5XU00XItO4am8iRJZcPjHcOgFqm/s1600/The%20Red%20Dog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/s?k=clifford+the+big+red+dog+book&i=stripbooks&crid=1ZWAK1Y6SHV0B&sprefix=Clifford+%2Cstripbooks%2C120&ref=nb_sb_ss_ts-doa-p_1_9">Amazon</a><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I found a Clifford, the Big Red Dog book on Amazon,
and I ordered it. Yay!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amazon still has
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They even have Dr. Suess!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But buy quick. No telling when Amazon will terminate
them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Books should be available. Parents can decide which
ones are appropriate.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 20pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2021/03/04/books/dr-seuss-books.html">NY Times</a><br /></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-4172875644637966002023-12-08T06:32:00.000-08:002023-12-08T06:32:56.796-08:00Christmas Comes too Soon!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyWdqb9WK_e387khBCrL2wbr0QwlhWaC6ntRkRR4IgUcvRUSM2LFBxzB-BCpzLKQW3iWgZZBZ8SW1MRn-ZWPu2CNyVA0uoF9JVgPxebZDPhbEn9wIXHHtJ5-XreMZxnYdJyq95S3yqEmuQUKMkXPYzmDSHGSBjkmYUoozTIT8Zyjl2VEI1nSWNoII-uDol/s1632/tree%20at%20christmas.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1632" data-original-width="1224" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyWdqb9WK_e387khBCrL2wbr0QwlhWaC6ntRkRR4IgUcvRUSM2LFBxzB-BCpzLKQW3iWgZZBZ8SW1MRn-ZWPu2CNyVA0uoF9JVgPxebZDPhbEn9wIXHHtJ5-XreMZxnYdJyq95S3yqEmuQUKMkXPYzmDSHGSBjkmYUoozTIT8Zyjl2VEI1nSWNoII-uDol/s320/tree%20at%20christmas.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> My Tree</div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">Would you prefer Thanksgiving to come earlier than the
third Thursday in November?</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt; mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">If it did, we would have more time for Christmas!
Retailers would love it. Extra weeks to sell their goodies, and extra hours for us to shop. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">Citizens would have added weeks to decorate and appreciate homes.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">President Franklin D. Roosevelt tried a switcheroo.
The depression was harsh on the country’s economy, so, FDR wanted to increase
retail sales. In 1941, he suggested additional days between Thanksgiving and
Christmas, however, Congress insisted on making the fourth Thursday in November
the official holiday. So, unfortunately, Old FDR lost.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">I visited a home this past week, and the Christmas
décor was stunning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lady of the
house spent days placing the items in every room. She will no sooner get them
all out until she must take them down. That’s a lot of work for a short few
weeks to relish the display. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">People become frazzled at Christmas. We have too few hours
and spend too much money.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">As we all know, Christmas is not about gifts, Santa Claus,
or family dinners. Sure, that’s part of it, and it is a wonderful part, but the
real reason we celebrate Christmas is the baby in the manger.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">The Fallen Angel doesn’t want us to focus on the
Christ, the King, born as a baby, so Satan keeps us harried and hurried. I
suspect Lucifer likes the short distance between Thanksgiving and Christmas.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt; mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">He uses it to his advantage.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">I once taught a group of kids who visited from another
country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of them had never heard
the Bethlehem story.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Have you told the story to your kids? Don’t become so hassled
with shopping, baking, and decorating that you ignore the why of the holiday.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Christmas is the birthday of the King.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">Come to think of it, Thanksgiving is the beginning of
the Christmas season. We thank God for blessings and the chief blessing is
this: He sent His Son to us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">However, I’d like more time to express gratitude. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">My Christmas Books</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: x-large; line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3G3ZdZm">Sarah and a Texas Christmas</a><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3Tg3AYY"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Sarah Helps Santa</span></a><br /></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-72854993650738725922023-12-03T01:00:00.000-08:002023-12-03T01:00:00.332-08:00Rejection<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: center;"> </p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4bcLPEptRUk3bu2_SYIhPuvym_0Yx2Xo6wFVVG4KjUB7SC5FP9izo4YC1W43DpQFlbtOqd6_wQilia-05CP_Xiueon_-k_sHZHJLKfPtn4wdo_QPoc-ptajQovvg1Mp8vv6h16Mvv88qdc-a1cX9pLW69aopGQOcib47TSspegzEeogCD2KMCaBF2yAPz" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4bcLPEptRUk3bu2_SYIhPuvym_0Yx2Xo6wFVVG4KjUB7SC5FP9izo4YC1W43DpQFlbtOqd6_wQilia-05CP_Xiueon_-k_sHZHJLKfPtn4wdo_QPoc-ptajQovvg1Mp8vv6h16Mvv88qdc-a1cX9pLW69aopGQOcib47TSspegzEeogCD2KMCaBF2yAPz" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8M5WttlhljwKk2UpjAcGcyMsuLL19FdZ1M7t0PZOhx8nNVc29dj0LEFBWUqvffuYnsrRIYMo_aawhn29oVKBnWqDyiTM84eUn2EwnWP9hYe1OvFFaclHG-hsMTTchludTwekV_OgYb1Jj4RV8hOrvAfmjQxkTb0MPowtX570IrIWtFlh-rHsKUVxANkaJ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="640" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8M5WttlhljwKk2UpjAcGcyMsuLL19FdZ1M7t0PZOhx8nNVc29dj0LEFBWUqvffuYnsrRIYMo_aawhn29oVKBnWqDyiTM84eUn2EwnWP9hYe1OvFFaclHG-hsMTTchludTwekV_OgYb1Jj4RV8hOrvAfmjQxkTb0MPowtX570IrIWtFlh-rHsKUVxANkaJ" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Has God rejected an issue of importance to you?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Most of us feel that He has at some point, and so we
quote Romans 8:28 as we attempt to encourage ourselves. <b><sup><span style="background: white; color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></sup></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><i><sup><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></sup></i></b><i><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">And we know that in all things God works for the
good</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> of those who love him, who</span><sup data-fn="#fen-NIV-28145a" data-link="[<a href="#fen-NIV-28145a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">[<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=romans%208%3A28&version=NIV#fen-NIV-28145a" style="box-sizing: border-box; min-width: 0px;" title="See footnote a"><span style="color: #4a4a4a;">a</span></a>]</sup><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> have been called</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> according to his purpose.</span></span></i><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">At times, that Scripture
works. And then again, it doesn’t. Especially when rejection occurs time and
again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Well now, when the Scripture
in Romans fails to do the job, we can turn to dear old Job and see what he does. That poor guy had his
life twisted upside down, and his well-meaning friends added to his misery.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">God was watching.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">God was not intervening.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In fact, God gave Satan
the okay-go ahead and do his thing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Satan invented the happy
dance, and he began a grand holiday. Lucifer removed everything but Job’s life,
and since Satan made Job viciously sick, Job would have welcomed death.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">God has His reasons to reject
our needs, but what are they? I ran across an article written by Samuel (no
last name) in 2022. </span><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Here are some reasons the writer gave for God’s rejection.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">To Protect us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lead us to Repentance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">For Redirection.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Focus on Jesus Christ.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Trust God More.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Build Character.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Keep us Humble.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Bring Sin to Our Attention.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Test Faith. </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 1.0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><a href="https://saintlyliving.com/reasons-why-god-allows-rejection/" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 21.3333px;">https://saintlyliving.com/reasons-why-god-allows-rejection/</a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Which one of those
reasons listed above makes you feel better?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you are a naturally
positive person, you’d simply say, “Thank you, Lord, for building my character
and keeping me humble.” Then you’d forget about the rejection as you jumped
into something else.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you are a negative thinker,
you might say, “Really, Lord? I’m already down and out, why do I need humility?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We seldom learn why God
does what He does in our lives, but rejection is real, and it is painful. It disappoints
and triggers setbacks.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have experienced God
shaking His finger at me and hearing Him say, “No, no, no. That’s not going to
happen. Move on.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What is there to do when
rejection happens? Keep going? Try harder? Work smarter? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Or give up?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There’s that too.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Remember what God told
King David about building the temple? “You did well to have it in your heart to
build a temple in my name.” I Kings 8:18. David must have been disappointed,
but he continued to do what he could. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It appears there are
times when desire and willingness rather than a failed attempt please God more
than the work itself. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And that brings comfort.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCS_A_kLp0yMtVHgrD4vzErHvZgSYiKtQ0WMsiiNYWU1mwct5LmM4VVKzCPfCKZnUGnVLK9l5Stq2Ad61koigdDXgNlNMBsskRMsGN1sYHLLhZq_rrNAZb9jwDDVokBQ6FCFkuYNsv8YacoBrJzAu-zN0RES-TKi-wv9ABD1eio4yAJ5UaxqJTZ0TOrRWC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="438" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCS_A_kLp0yMtVHgrD4vzErHvZgSYiKtQ0WMsiiNYWU1mwct5LmM4VVKzCPfCKZnUGnVLK9l5Stq2Ad61koigdDXgNlNMBsskRMsGN1sYHLLhZq_rrNAZb9jwDDVokBQ6FCFkuYNsv8YacoBrJzAu-zN0RES-TKi-wv9ABD1eio4yAJ5UaxqJTZ0TOrRWC=w437-h640" width="437" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-35021707796286768112023-11-26T13:53:00.000-08:002023-11-26T13:53:23.550-08:00Latest News!<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Extra! Extra!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Hot Off the Press!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhoj6jUq71b4LPH3SYeNLPoG4EqUCr3HXOrfphmnFmL7_DZrNsU9NuRtS8a8FMnU_zwFBF7CmNFTdAvV6U-6nnuTm3Sr27k_ZCg-cT0Q4QEAlBAlAmcO2PyONVW8fN5z5JU7IOVqiieMf8kD-xFhIzuV0jmmBtvOyLmHKdRBffrJXeda20sQhFGSIdzu2Du" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="784" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhoj6jUq71b4LPH3SYeNLPoG4EqUCr3HXOrfphmnFmL7_DZrNsU9NuRtS8a8FMnU_zwFBF7CmNFTdAvV6U-6nnuTm3Sr27k_ZCg-cT0Q4QEAlBAlAmcO2PyONVW8fN5z5JU7IOVqiieMf8kD-xFhIzuV0jmmBtvOyLmHKdRBffrJXeda20sQhFGSIdzu2Du" width="147" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: 18pt;">Do you hear that phrase anymore? Newsboys once stood on the
corner and shouted that phrase as they sold copies of the latest news.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This day and time, we receive our updates from the
Internet or TV. Newspaper sales are down, but I like the urgency in the
message.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My book is here! It’s straight from the press, and I
am shouting loud and clear so you can know about it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCleG38_1GneN1p9hgKpo_maRpk9IIcYMXWFaYigx_J5m7kx87WiuOIDc9Gd2IysqbV9vc3ScgO0RjqNPev5DgGWBY6FMRBg90YroMfJhSvclfYnghZ2USDMG5ukpKVf0bK5opq4n2DFdShTWvKrLK7CAhP8slT6DwQ-yUM4oIJOUyR_nDfcoemvPJid73/s2560/Sarah%20and%20a%20Texas%20Christmas_EbookCover%20(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCleG38_1GneN1p9hgKpo_maRpk9IIcYMXWFaYigx_J5m7kx87WiuOIDc9Gd2IysqbV9vc3ScgO0RjqNPev5DgGWBY6FMRBg90YroMfJhSvclfYnghZ2USDMG5ukpKVf0bK5opq4n2DFdShTWvKrLK7CAhP8slT6DwQ-yUM4oIJOUyR_nDfcoemvPJid73/w400-h640/Sarah%20and%20a%20Texas%20Christmas_EbookCover%20(1).jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><i><br /></i></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;"><i>Sarah and a Texas Christmas</i> first appeared in eBook
format under the title, <i>Sarah and the Cowboy’s Lady.</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">That was many sleeps ago. Too many to count, so I decided to
update this book and publish it under my pseudonym. G. N. Lewis.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Why change names, you ask?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Well, it is a long story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With my first contract, my publisher tried to place
my book,<i> Sarah and a Mission of Love</i>, on Amazon, but they wouldn’t accept it. The publisher came back to me
and said my name, “Gay” wasn’t acceptable due to the morals at the time. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Well, okay, then, let’s put my middle initial in there
and see what happens. So Gay N. Lewis became my author name, and Amazon
accepted it. Yay!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">Fast forward to today’s world. Behaviors have changed,
and what was once unacceptable is acceptable.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">Problem? My books with the name Gay N. Lewis became
lost among the Gay Pride novels and literature.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">If you found them at all, you might have to look through a list of
titles that you hadn’t planned to see.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">I thought about a pen name. How about Gabby
Lewis?</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">Gigi Lewis? LeAnn Lewis? Lynn
Lewis? Louie Lewis? Nella Lewis?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Nothing seemed right, so I decided on initials. Clive Staples Lewis used his initials, C. S., and became known to the world as C. S. Lewis. If they worked for him, why couldn’t G. N. Lewis work for me?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p>S</o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">arah, my dyslexic angel, is a delight in this book. Sarah arrives on Earth to help Emily. Emily
is jilted by her fiancée, and when a police officer issues a restraint order to Emily, a disgusted Sarah kicks him in his posterior.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">Sarah disguises herself as an
eccentric, human senior citizen and wings her way into Emily’s life. They leave
Dallas, headed for Austin, but get caught in a bizarre Texas snowstorm. The two,
one angel and one human, get stranded. Now, Sarah, of course, can vanish and fly
off to Timbuctoo, but Emily can’t. Sarah must find a handsome, rich, Texas
cowboy to rescue Emily.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">Where does she find one?</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">Well, don’t you know, Texas is full of them,
and Sarah picks one up from the Get and Go Convenient store.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This story is full of laughs and good feelings. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">I wanted the cover to feature a Christmas tree in the
middle of a field of Texas Bluebonnets. The story takes place at Christmas, but
the wedding occurs in the Bluebonnet spring of Texas.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;"> Once her mission is complete, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">Sarah is allowed to see into the future and
she actually sees Emily and Josiah marry in the Texas field of Bluebonnets and Christmas trees.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">The designer couldn’t pull that off, but I like this
cover. I think you’ll love the book.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> <a href="https://amzn.to/3G3ZdZm">Sarah and a Texas Christmas</a></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-59538494978171940422023-11-24T09:42:00.000-08:002023-11-26T12:58:17.478-08:00Thankful after Thanksgiving<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibLMLeC4Q-q7WfK84F8jQASXtteJZYgkl42KRYMf_d-7DYlZlxnBjB8wKUxZ71qTo6HFbIYPCBLO4jghQjrK6rl9ZRgzmHhuMnC7T8QJsJUPEuGCDgUNDBj_uzD82xtVqBzHGsq-lHBMSuuoreTEE-DZrSJ1abdK860er1rL-D_Mbguzsd4wW0vAw3GWez/s320/Shelley%20and%20Ajuan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibLMLeC4Q-q7WfK84F8jQASXtteJZYgkl42KRYMf_d-7DYlZlxnBjB8wKUxZ71qTo6HFbIYPCBLO4jghQjrK6rl9ZRgzmHhuMnC7T8QJsJUPEuGCDgUNDBj_uzD82xtVqBzHGsq-lHBMSuuoreTEE-DZrSJ1abdK860er1rL-D_Mbguzsd4wW0vAw3GWez/w300-h400/Shelley%20and%20Ajuan.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Friday After Thanksgiving.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Are you stuffed with turkey and trimmings? You may
never need another bite of food, right? Are you trying to recover from overload?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yeah, me too.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We had two at the table yesterday, my husband, Paul, and
me. I didn’t cook, but we found a Saltgrass restaurant near us and enjoyed too
much food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had no dessert. Boo! I
love Lemon Ice Box Pie, and it is easy to make, but I failed to create one, and
we didn’t indulge in the sugary offerings at the restaurant.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We were impressed with the lady who attended our table,
and I’d like to share her story with you. We wished her a happy Thanksgiving,
and then she volunteered her story.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She arrived in Houston four months ago from Cuba. Her
entire family came legally to America, and she told us how grateful she is to live
here. Her name is Helen, and she and the family waited a long time to come. She was excited to spend her first
Thanksgiving in America, and she doesn’t take the privilege for granted. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She said, “Young people who haven’t lived in
other countries don’t understand what they have in America.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After we left the restaurant, we drove to the memory
care facility where our daughter, Shelley resides. In times past, we brought her
to our house for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but those days are over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s too feeble now.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Her medical aide, Ajuan, was taking care of her. He managed
to get her up to walk around for a bit, and we were happy to see her out of the
wheelchair.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ajuan is from Egypt, and he was a doctor in his
country. He now works as a medical aid while he takes US courses for
accreditation. He arrived in Houston nine months ago, and he spoke no English,
but he is a whiz at English now.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I asked him why he left Egypt. “Too many wars in and
around my country,” he said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then he
went on to tell us how grateful he is to reside in America. His words mimicked
the conversation we had at the restaurant with the female server.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I suspect if more Americans had lived in other
countries like Helen or Ajuan, we would have more rallies cheering the goodness
in America rather than multiple protests for her flaws. <o:p></o:p></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> <a href="https://amzn.to/3G3ZdZm"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Sarah and a Texas Christmas</span></a><br /></p></blockquote></blockquote>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-79516739702641884052023-11-11T03:50:00.002-08:002023-11-26T12:58:31.356-08:00Protect or Abort the Unborn?<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicEKtbTkeGXfVL70yfu_1S0mciB-k2pD484ZgbeMTaLmzUIYeIntr7M8zVk0uVDJ96XJ4z78aFNFLtgGAxlNlEImUx_dtY7ynzLiHZ_6JV7H5TJbR_4JCUU2zm2ilCBuSocJMQhYxMnoVNjEuETsBGhxa_2lsap2xu_p0RrW1kd6loZO84xT7b4X0pH3mq/s640/new%20born%20baby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicEKtbTkeGXfVL70yfu_1S0mciB-k2pD484ZgbeMTaLmzUIYeIntr7M8zVk0uVDJ96XJ4z78aFNFLtgGAxlNlEImUx_dtY7ynzLiHZ_6JV7H5TJbR_4JCUU2zm2ilCBuSocJMQhYxMnoVNjEuETsBGhxa_2lsap2xu_p0RrW1kd6loZO84xT7b4X0pH3mq/w400-h268/new%20born%20baby.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">To Protect or Not?</span></div><p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><br /></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Elections across America were held during the month of November 2023. Where abortion was on the ballot, it appears abortion won in most cases.
People, especially women, voted for freedom to choose what they do with a
pregnancy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Humanity has been debating whether to kill an unborn child or
not since life began.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">“What?” I hear you say? “That can’t be correct.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Exodus 21:22-23 says if a man causes a woman with a child to
miscarry, he must pay a financial fine. If the lady experiences lasting harm, the
man can receive the death penalty. “Life for life.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Pro-life Christians cite several Biblical passages for the
sanctity of life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: center; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">At
creation, God formed man in His image. The sixth Commandment says, “Thou shalt
not kill.” Exodus 20:13 KJV.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: center; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">In
Psalm 139 NIV, King David writes:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p>
<p align="center" style="background: white; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 16.0pt;">For you
created my inmost being;</span></span><span style="color: black; font-size: 16.0pt;"><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white;">you knit me together in my mother’s
womb.</span></span><br />
<span class="text"><b><sup><span style="background: white;">14 </span></sup></b><span style="background: white;">I praise you because I am fearfully and
wonderfully made;</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white;">your works are wonderful,</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white;">I know that full well.</span></span><br />
<span class="text"><b><sup><span style="background: white;">15 </span></sup></b><span style="background: white;">My frame was not hidden from you</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white;">when I was made in the secret
place,</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white;">when I was woven together in the
depths of the earth.</span></span><br />
<span class="text"><b><sup><span style="background: white;">16 </span></sup></b><span style="background: white;">Your eyes saw my unformed body;</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white;">all the days ordained for me
were written in your book</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white;">before one of them came to be.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<p align="center" style="background: white; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Jeremiah, Isaiah, and the Apostle Paul are among those who claim
they were called by God before birth for the tasks they undertook in life.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Midwives were used in Bible days to deliver babies, and secular
history tells us they also helped with abortions. These assistants used herbs,
sharp tools, or bloodletting to speed the miscarriage process. They might have
the patient jump up and down or lift heavy burdens.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Such methods were used for centuries, but let’s fast forward to the
1800s. Before 1821, getting an abortion was relatively easy, and less thought
was given to it. Large families were common, and abortion was a birth control
method. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">By1850 the average woman had six to nine children. They didn’t
want more kids underfoot, but the ladies had to undergo brutal methods to rid
themselves of an unwanted pregnancy. They were given cocktails that could kill
them, or brutal instruments were used that might cause death.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">All 38 states adopted laws restricting abortion in 1850, but
most states had exceptions. If a woman’s life wasn’t in jeopardy due to
pregnancy, she most likely had to abort secretly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Then came 1873 and Congress passed a law.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Guess what? If you sold contraceptives, you
committed a crime.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Family size remained a huge problem. Women continued to circumvent
laws and subject themselves to possible death as they aborted a child.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Fast forward to 1916. Margaret Sanger opened the first clinic
for birth control. Her efforts led to the modern Planned Parenthood clinics.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Roe V. Wade changed everything. In 1973, the U.S. Supreme Court
declared the 14<sup>th</sup> Amendment protected abortion. Abortion became a
legal birth control method.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">In 2022, The Supreme Court overturned the earlier Roe V. Wade
decision. No longer would women have the protected, federal right to an
abortion. The decision leaves abortion laws to the states. Each state makes its
own law.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Women across the land can have abortions. If the state where
they live passes laws to prevent abortion, they can travel across state lines
to a state that accommodates them.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Each state decides on a cutoff date for abortion, but a few
citizens across the land prefer abortion after birth. Is it acceptable to deliver
a healthy baby, and then kill it, all the while calling it abortion? Texas law
prohibits abortion after 6 weeks (with exceptions). That’s when a heartbeat can
be detected. If life ends with a heartbeat, doesn’t it also begin with one? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Virginians failed to accept a law to ban abortion
(with exceptions) after 15 weeks. The unborn feels pain at 15 weeks. Is it okay
for the baby to experience the shock and agony of being torn apart? Some states,
like Oregon, allow abortion up to the ninth month.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">I find it incongruous how many people have more compassion for
the discomfort of an animal than they do for the pain of the unborn child. Are
our views upside down? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">I am pro-life, but I understand abortion is sometimes necessary.
In my opinion, lawmakers should leave the abortion issue alone. I wish they
would busy themselves with other matters like inflation, The National debt, and
border security. Leave the issue of abortion alone. Give it a rest.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Whether planned or accidental, for most women, the loss of a
child produces a horrendous sadness. As I face the loss of a daughter who grows
sicker each day with early-onset dementia, I realize the measure of this grief.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">If I had known what lay ahead for her at this date, would I have
aborted her to spare her this unbearable disease? Would I rob her of the
delights she had in life before her illness? Should I have robbed myself of the
joys of being her mom? Fortunately, I didn’t know the future, and I didn’t know
the agony of making such a choice.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="color: #181818; font-size: 16.0pt;">Should humanity condone abortion? Allow it willy-nilly? I pose
questions I have no answer for. The debate seems to have started shortly after
the Garden of Eden days, and I suspect it will continue until the end of
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="background: white; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #181818;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3KGcyrc"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Gay's Author Page</span></a><br /></span></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-20859348078403820732023-11-06T14:13:00.002-08:002023-11-26T12:58:45.918-08:00"If you Can"<p> </p><p style="background: white;"><span class="text"><b><span style="color: black; font-size: 16.0pt;"></span></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjdp8LXGaegXhOzv--EJ_2UQuAa_j-UoM5IrHiG_uW_RgDRehKrd8xX5rHN5ltjxkvQPaILMZjq6sqEFIOj7922GA53RplhqXGP4js_4ibSjHCUi-AHy0EdDE3jDYgoru1R6AsgdWnBioRSfWUyzn21hl-V5H7Jetw-eD9Iy55HjvYfUlfPg4iYmKmlaNM8" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="640" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjdp8LXGaegXhOzv--EJ_2UQuAa_j-UoM5IrHiG_uW_RgDRehKrd8xX5rHN5ltjxkvQPaILMZjq6sqEFIOj7922GA53RplhqXGP4js_4ibSjHCUi-AHy0EdDE3jDYgoru1R6AsgdWnBioRSfWUyzn21hl-V5H7Jetw-eD9Iy55HjvYfUlfPg4iYmKmlaNM8=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></b></div><b><br /><br /></b><p></p><p style="background: white;"><b><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Your Will Be Done</span></b></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%;"><span class="text"><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Mark Chapter 9 NIV<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span class="text"><b><sup><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">21 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Jesus
asked the boy’s father, </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“How long has he been like
this?”</span></span><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 115%; line-height: 2.4rem; margin: 0in; min-width: 0px; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="text"><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“From childhood,” he answered.</span></span><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> <span class="text"><b><sup style="font-size: 1.2rem;"><span id="en-NIV-24561">22 </span></sup></b>“It has often
thrown him into fire or water to kill him. But if you can do anything, take
pity on us and help us.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span class="woj"><b><sup><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">23 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“‘If you
can’?”</span></span><span class="text"><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> said Jesus. </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Everything is possible for
one who believes.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span class="text"><b><sup><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">24 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text"><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Immediately
the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span class="text"><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">Can
you imagine telling the Lord, “If you can?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And Jesus responds with a touch of humor when He says, “If you can?”
This is a priceless Scripture. Jesus knows He can do all things, but the guy
asking the question doesn’t.</span></span><span class="text"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span class="text"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I love this verse, and I
pray: “I believe, Lord, help my unbelief.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve never doubted the
Lord’s ability to do anything. My word! Look at the amazing Creation!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">However, I now add the
prayer “if you are willing.” In Matthew’s Gospel, we find this verse:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span class="text"><span style="color: black; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span class="text"><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Matthew 8:2 NIV</span></span><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A man with leprosy came and knelt before him
and said, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #001320; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I believe without doubt that God can do any and
everything. Will He do it for me? Do I have enough faith? Sometimes yes, but often,
no.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #001320; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am learning to ask: “Lord, I believe, help my
unbelief, and if You are willing, do this for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #001320; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After all, whose determination is best for me?
His or mine?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And get this! Jesus prayed
for God’s will in one of His last talks with the Father. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #001320; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In the garden, before his arrest, Jesus
prayed: </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“</span><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My Father, if it is
possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you
will.” NIV</span><span style="color: #001320; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
</span><span style="color: red; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Matthew 23:39<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">Aren’t you happy God honored
His will, even if it meant rejecting His only Son’s request? Because of God’s
denial to take the cup away from Jesus, we can be in God’s family. </span><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="background: white; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">God’s will is far better
than ours. </span><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-22774746844894321622023-10-23T14:15:00.001-07:002023-11-26T12:59:20.798-08:00Write That Note!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5WD3GyPnVxIH2V8QGNODtNf-jS1y3AIc3cH-KZRTnZqECANL2jOEDD9e5t7E28D8TnZ490aAEIKn047m9BrBZVdd_0tC9zggT2XjOFnzlaaInoycWkuus1dE4PYNgi1gRoRzPyBEMow5R8gNPlC4X9QydmlxB0rZgiKpSzR301eX3qjWc9PdYAyGI0OTo/s640/envelopes%20and%20letters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="427" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5WD3GyPnVxIH2V8QGNODtNf-jS1y3AIc3cH-KZRTnZqECANL2jOEDD9e5t7E28D8TnZ490aAEIKn047m9BrBZVdd_0tC9zggT2XjOFnzlaaInoycWkuus1dE4PYNgi1gRoRzPyBEMow5R8gNPlC4X9QydmlxB0rZgiKpSzR301eX3qjWc9PdYAyGI0OTo/w268-h400/envelopes%20and%20letters.jpg" width="268" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlA2Y85pYKrONjizbEKczdVAVCnKo1_UDSAmyP8fDzdMh0RE7pA96NhtZTX93rNm1EaYxFi-tkGeLdqBlE_A2v6kwsYDOJ11UXiCNXQrqJeZtEPb-AhO8iJk-ssNdpzrYETXzkEduBFjobPe_K6X3Tm8NkFNK00L6YSN2oc6osAktTl33UEyW4FEin0zS4/s1280/Thank%20you%20note.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlA2Y85pYKrONjizbEKczdVAVCnKo1_UDSAmyP8fDzdMh0RE7pA96NhtZTX93rNm1EaYxFi-tkGeLdqBlE_A2v6kwsYDOJ11UXiCNXQrqJeZtEPb-AhO8iJk-ssNdpzrYETXzkEduBFjobPe_K6X3Tm8NkFNK00L6YSN2oc6osAktTl33UEyW4FEin0zS4/w400-h266/Thank%20you%20note.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">The Apostle
Paul wrote letters, and thirteen of them are included in the New Testament. A
computer would have been a huge asset, right?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In the 16<sup>th</sup>
chapter of Romans, Paul thanked twenty-four people who had helped him in his
ministry. Now, I’m sure he could have acknowledged thousands of others, but these
twenty-four stood out at the time he was writing. By the way, ten of these were
women! Yes! Women played a large part in his ministry.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The last
chapter in Romans inspired a sermon for my hubby, and he preached it last
Sunday. He cited a few people in each of our churches who have been a blessing
to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could have spent hours calling
forth names, and as I listened, I kept thinking of all the folks he didn’t reference.
His sermons last twenty minutes, so he didn’t have time to mention everyone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He called a
man today who had served along side him for almost 5 years before we moved to
Houston. He told Billy he had been in the sermon. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Billy doesn’t live here, and he isn’t on
Facebook, so he didn’t hear the sermon. Over the phone, hubby thanked him for
his service, and they had a good time remembering past moments.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">People
should hear how they have blessed us before they leave this earth. Have you
told someone in the last few days how worthy they are? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The blessing they are to you?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The sermon
inspired me, and I wrote a letter to a friend. It wasn’t gushy, just a simple description
of a few ways she has benefited me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you aren’t
wordy, send a card or a text.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You may never
know the difference your kind word will make in the day of your friend.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> <a href="https://amzn.to/3KGcyrc">Gay N. Lewis on Amazon</a></o:p></span></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-69235226579691917292023-09-26T11:32:00.002-07:002023-09-28T07:30:30.463-07:00Beauty Is Your Duty<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8BcBqszGHNB4zJrr8DL99227bL8USihabhDWYSAoKxoopbGREiZhabgMfu8l52PFglF-KO_rn4CRh1jbeXcUHoM4XyPGK-VPVC9avZlWJe9zloc6vJD-VoSmfC978UuSiXibHK9_LIo0i5o5QeNk-97mL-6SImyXhYMqtuhSJAmAu_14rt5DG7jrxLyW1/s400/Beauty-Is-Your-Duty_eagle-by-KathyAoki-400x284.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="284" data-original-width="400" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8BcBqszGHNB4zJrr8DL99227bL8USihabhDWYSAoKxoopbGREiZhabgMfu8l52PFglF-KO_rn4CRh1jbeXcUHoM4XyPGK-VPVC9avZlWJe9zloc6vJD-VoSmfC978UuSiXibHK9_LIo0i5o5QeNk-97mL-6SImyXhYMqtuhSJAmAu_14rt5DG7jrxLyW1/s320/Beauty-Is-Your-Duty_eagle-by-KathyAoki-400x284.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;">During WWII, both Britain and America campaigned to
women with this slogan.</span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Beauty Is Your Duty</span><o:p style="font-size: 16pt;"></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Posters,
newsreels, newspapers proclaimed this mantra in Allied Countries. Hitler hated
red lipstick, so what did the Allies do? They launched campaigns to encourage
us gals to wear it! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Red lipstick became the symbol of patriotic freedom.
When red lipstick wasn’t available, women stained their lips with beet juice!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">The WWII propaganda encouraged ladies to keep up a
glamourous appearance. Maintaining a positive morale was important to everyone
during the war front. When the public spotted a woman looking her best, the
image reinforced the idea that good times would return.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Women were told they were doing their part to win the
war by looking their best.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">My mom and aunts wore red lipstick and looked glamorous
during those days. They were slim and had gorgeous figures. Of course, back in
the WWII era, food was rationed, and very little overeating was done. That
helped their waistlines!</span><span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Makeup has changed over the years. As a child, I
watched my fashionable aunt apply cosmetics. She sat at her dressing table and
applied base, rouge (as she called it), mascara and lipstick.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75"
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<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">The foundation for the face was from a swivel stick Max
Factor. She would roll it out, and then smooth it over her face and neck.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjz3QC5fKDyKX9GQyZzQOgbhV71yXtvZR8ElzEXY8ph4wnGQxmyGbxrqWqoUGvLvKFktkzijqY5Acv1QK78mEZzeulMVHtoYYt-F5xF1hbAn5Ajf5BVQyGwZEbKeKpBFm1ySaEI4EkzKyroeEs6NKie-_lRgKGFIDjsv1u5Iu5Ou0Hg7-T7cq8lTxT863h_" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="114" data-original-width="91" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjz3QC5fKDyKX9GQyZzQOgbhV71yXtvZR8ElzEXY8ph4wnGQxmyGbxrqWqoUGvLvKFktkzijqY5Acv1QK78mEZzeulMVHtoYYt-F5xF1hbAn5Ajf5BVQyGwZEbKeKpBFm1ySaEI4EkzKyroeEs6NKie-_lRgKGFIDjsv1u5Iu5Ou0Hg7-T7cq8lTxT863h_" width="192" /></a></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Cream rouge came next. This cherry
red stuff came in a petite jar and required a tiny amount to make rosy cheeks. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Once the face was done, eyes were
next. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">The black mascara was packaged in a petite,
rectangular container, and it was accompanied with a tiny brush. She placed the
brush into water, and then applied the brush to the container. When the brush had
significant black stuff on it, she applied to lashes. Outlining her brows was
done with a pencil.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">The grand finale was the red
lipstick.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUgYCLfa0wnf2X5di4S2MTYKQ8bFArp1sW3bC90p1sdITUZj5cRDsstMgDp04vqp3v6SnI0o1uyrpqIjY7wJWT9yIZdD2_HXzO4mRIcmEzT_rI8ZZok6ODaNd5GN6C72s3s2xJyWEysccmDlHTeDzyOmOeVgLnnz92JW19gNgEtlA8ktHugULh-7P1c0Og" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUgYCLfa0wnf2X5di4S2MTYKQ8bFArp1sW3bC90p1sdITUZj5cRDsstMgDp04vqp3v6SnI0o1uyrpqIjY7wJWT9yIZdD2_HXzO4mRIcmEzT_rI8ZZok6ODaNd5GN6C72s3s2xJyWEysccmDlHTeDzyOmOeVgLnnz92JW19gNgEtlA8ktHugULh-7P1c0Og" width="240" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;"><br /><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">After donning stillettos, she was
ready to leave for work. She wasn’t fond of her 5’2” stature, and the high
heels added not only to her height, but to her allure. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjt1ydPJAGdFuvIhB4KWZsq507TAboH9gJGpuRECsCppoERgSfcaXhimYWGDgXj5PCj8z7fyVvuVRvHMmCDZlAzjcYvg7elNpIwoZBV9bMZ4rNtvH28YTHDrnozs9U7ycO9RU2Z7ZJlhuLXpNu3L7f8TdleDuYAREftkqh8iAih1ervDJkv2TXcNrFEEuIj" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjt1ydPJAGdFuvIhB4KWZsq507TAboH9gJGpuRECsCppoERgSfcaXhimYWGDgXj5PCj8z7fyVvuVRvHMmCDZlAzjcYvg7elNpIwoZBV9bMZ4rNtvH28YTHDrnozs9U7ycO9RU2Z7ZJlhuLXpNu3L7f8TdleDuYAREftkqh8iAih1ervDJkv2TXcNrFEEuIj" width="242" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;"><br /><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">One day, I had ridden with her to
Dallas. While we waited for<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>her son to
come to the car, a man she knew approached. She exclaimed, “I don’t have on
enough lipstick.” She grabbed her purse and remedied the situation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">My mom and her sisters never went
anywhere without their nails polished. My dad served in WWII, and my mom went
to see him before he was deployed. He told me she arrived with her long nails
painted like American flags. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Patriotism was important back in
those days. I hope it still is.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">But I digress. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">I knew a lady who went to bed wearing
lipstick, and she would arise before her husband awoke. She wanted to make sure
her face was outfitted before she greeted him. She resides in heaven now, but
she was meticulous about her appearance when she lived down here.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Another married friend wears makeup
every day, and she says, “I do it for me. I feel better when I look good.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">I know a woman whose husband insists
every day that she “fix her face.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">My hubby has never stipulated such a
thing. I think he knows better. However, he came home one day and said, “if you’ll
put on your makeup, I’ll take you to dinner.” I replied, “I’m wearing makeup.” Uh
oh! I needed to refresh it, so I did. Going out to eat is a winner for me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">I have a friend who never wears face color
of any kind, but she does apply sunscreen, and that is a wise thing to do.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">How about you? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Do you wear makeup every day? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">I don’t, but I will not leave the
house without it. My Mary Kay representative once held a skin care class and asked
me if I would participate. She knows me well. She said, “you will need to
remove your makeup.” I told her I’d rather take off my clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, not really, but I don’t like to appear
in public unadorned.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">As a young girl, I had oodles of
freckles, and I was teased about them. They stood at attention on my pale skin.
I once wrote a letter to a cosmetician and asked how to rid myself of them. She
responded, “Apply lemon juice.” I tried this, but it didn’t work. The lemon was
sticky and messy. I was relieved when my mother finally allowed me to cover
those pesky spots up with foundation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">My white hair is a DNA thing. I’ve
had it since my teens. My pale skin and white hair make me look rather ghostly.
I’m happy cosmetics exist to enhance what I don’t have.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Skin is important. It is the largest
organ on the body. When old skin cells die, new ones come along. It behooves us
to take care of them. If you don’t wear color, you should at least moisturize with
a good sunscreen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Cleanse, exfoliate, moisturize,
protect, and color. These are excellent daily steps to make a lady feel and look
her best.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">That WWII slogan, “Beauty is your duty,”
is a good one. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/stores/Gay-N-Lewis/author/B00AAVJ4G0?ref=ap_rdr&store_ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Gay's Author Page</span></a><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Citations:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%; mso-no-proof: yes;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">https://glamourdaze.com/history-of-makeup/1940s<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">https://www.whowhatwear.com/history-of-red-lipstick<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-83099297342619084452023-08-26T13:21:00.006-07:002023-08-26T13:24:15.411-07:00Happy Cookies and High Tea<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikBZERewJxIfNlbubjjSq8QyCMooUpBEd33cfDUYHlcH8AYejrhlJhoChNNE2BiggLqPtGLrkTrGWl0je_cgSN1XJMq4AxCnF_NdTJztcxs16seKGVoav9AzcIeEY-5Nd4dY9B-I8Adn6krK-wX5tYxaLp_-tiW7KxW96q5xtOOdef809iUHwvED9KNNz3/s1280/cookies%20or%20cakes%20smile%20face.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="782" data-original-width="1280" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikBZERewJxIfNlbubjjSq8QyCMooUpBEd33cfDUYHlcH8AYejrhlJhoChNNE2BiggLqPtGLrkTrGWl0je_cgSN1XJMq4AxCnF_NdTJztcxs16seKGVoav9AzcIeEY-5Nd4dY9B-I8Adn6krK-wX5tYxaLp_-tiW7KxW96q5xtOOdef809iUHwvED9KNNz3/w551-h338/cookies%20or%20cakes%20smile%20face.jpg" width="551" /></a></div><br /> <span style="font-size: x-large;">My maternal grandmother used to make tea cakes. They looked a lot like the ones in the picture, but she didn't draw a happy face on them.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">The tea cakes were a cross between a cake and a cookie. I loved them. She kept them in a tin on top of the refrigerator. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I suppose our English ancenstors ate these little cakes at tea time in the afternoon. That was such a nice respite. When our foremothers came to America, they brought the recipe with them.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">This day and time, a formal tea time doesn't exist. I've looked into fancy restaurants who offer a High Tea in Houston. Most are expensive, but they sure look elegant. Here's a link to some of the best in Houston. </span><a href="https://www.farawaylucy.com/high-tea-houston/"><span style="font-size: large;">High Tea in Houston</span></a></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I gave a tea party last May and invited a few friends. I ask everyone to wear a hat, and I gave prizes to ladies who did. The prize was an English tea cup. Sort of like the one picture below.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhEqanDbXa_OQ4pIYnJ2R8bROKPxHQ4i2w54wp5ApwmGPFcaqt4HFtps-NseoMisDFNWOYGTuxUDM2E7C8eVvudttPKb8U8OCkQz8ndpgZi2qWbTLKJZwiH1buTf1T9hdCKSnZj0rNN-r3hRcvaENwcp_0Tckh5GrW5-Jt-AeaOhngFoTpJLZUW6tJK_IFb" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="400" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhEqanDbXa_OQ4pIYnJ2R8bROKPxHQ4i2w54wp5ApwmGPFcaqt4HFtps-NseoMisDFNWOYGTuxUDM2E7C8eVvudttPKb8U8OCkQz8ndpgZi2qWbTLKJZwiH1buTf1T9hdCKSnZj0rNN-r3hRcvaENwcp_0Tckh5GrW5-Jt-AeaOhngFoTpJLZUW6tJK_IFb" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I had a lot of fun. Here's a picture of me with one of my guests. She really dressed for the party. My outfit was more informal, but I wore my hat!</div></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiftOv_OTg7Esf3wwuEagiJhfsY0qP_Z3Kme6GExaOZmJXB6AO5d87KzY9atVgbei9vjR_zmrML8pILBwAM90HJvnvU4QtGrN7_G3mz3Orp1LXyFt1VMhQLW8JY0vDTCvViXh4pLuPGjMphk6eCFWIy4w3QyWMeZQ_z37SdT3-Jh69YgEAxB-D9ntIFKVXo/s640/IMG_4620.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiftOv_OTg7Esf3wwuEagiJhfsY0qP_Z3Kme6GExaOZmJXB6AO5d87KzY9atVgbei9vjR_zmrML8pILBwAM90HJvnvU4QtGrN7_G3mz3Orp1LXyFt1VMhQLW8JY0vDTCvViXh4pLuPGjMphk6eCFWIy4w3QyWMeZQ_z37SdT3-Jh69YgEAxB-D9ntIFKVXo/w300-h400/IMG_4620.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Do you have a snack time? If so, what do you like?</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Here's the recipe for my grandmother's tea cakes. Let me know if you make them!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Ingredients:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">1/2 cup butter</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">1.5 cups sugar</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">2 eggs</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">1 tsp vanilla</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">4 tsp baking powder</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">1/2 cup flour</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Pinch of salt</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">1/2 baking soda</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Mix all ingredients together. Chill mixture for at least 2 hours. Roll dough into 1/8 inch thickness. Sprinkle with sugar. Cut into small cakes. Bake at 375 degrees for 7 to 8 minutes.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://amzn.to/3KGcyrc">Gay's Author Page</a><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-31125223950549131002023-08-21T06:10:00.023-07:002023-08-21T07:38:47.987-07:00Coconut Cake. Yum! One of my Favorites<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Cd4cP8HRFCG2-DxgZYfpYhRGwaYzYsly3k9iI7pfcqVWXgNrMzuXn8Ir_qthjWTJgKFt5L8fMD93FtRrOWGgZbIiD5WAvMugEZLTNuEDJwAgq-3K5G800uEfUomvM26AB6H0iXTZtuHQBnrLYVd9NNN_Znt8hJP_iZIDyoDZTmZmFZ5PixslKuAcCWUf/s1280/cake.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Cd4cP8HRFCG2-DxgZYfpYhRGwaYzYsly3k9iI7pfcqVWXgNrMzuXn8Ir_qthjWTJgKFt5L8fMD93FtRrOWGgZbIiD5WAvMugEZLTNuEDJwAgq-3K5G800uEfUomvM26AB6H0iXTZtuHQBnrLYVd9NNN_Znt8hJP_iZIDyoDZTmZmFZ5PixslKuAcCWUf/w640-h426/cake.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;">Let's Have a Party!</span></i></b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div class="WordSection1"><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Do you have a favorite cake?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">I have several, but Mrs. Evans’ Coconut Cake remains at the
top of the list.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Mrs. Evans resides in heaven now, but while she lived on
earth, she was known for delights she produced in her kitchen. She was a member
of our church and at potlucks, the people always looked forward to her coconut cake.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">She gave the recipe to her daughter-in-law, and the young
lady made the cake, but it didn’t turn out quite the same. The younger Mrs.
Evans said to the senior Mrs. Evans, “What went wrong?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mrs. Evans shrugged and replied, “Some can
and some can’t.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">I’m one of those who can’t. Even though I meticulously
follow directions, something always the results aren’t quite right.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Our daughter, Lanissa, is a wonderful cook. I asked her to
make Mrs. Evans’ cake for my birthday, and she did. Wow! It was delicious. It
tasted like the one I remember.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9x_pvNEY5rPbzZtFhWT1pOvXRv13K23Vn0oB31vChxyvr_IDDSrBOLpTzABizm1-yuSdiu1Qv7e8oPOMcrcq-_cKnnpG_TJd47aAoJqn1wC1vqWnYCXlApcONU5Tm9PZ3NAsj5wJQOa_6SOeiuzGAiO8IIbdvXSpKVwM7K535QLPxuWm2oIsYAe5dc5H/s640/bday%20cake%20Gay%20Tennessee.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9x_pvNEY5rPbzZtFhWT1pOvXRv13K23Vn0oB31vChxyvr_IDDSrBOLpTzABizm1-yuSdiu1Qv7e8oPOMcrcq-_cKnnpG_TJd47aAoJqn1wC1vqWnYCXlApcONU5Tm9PZ3NAsj5wJQOa_6SOeiuzGAiO8IIbdvXSpKVwM7K535QLPxuWm2oIsYAe5dc5H/w480-h640/bday%20cake%20Gay%20Tennessee.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: left;">Mrs. Evans always made the cake into a three-layer beauty,
but Lanissa traveled to bring the cake to me, so she made it in a sheet pan. It
was easier to bring that way.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Here’s the recipe. Try it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Coconut Butter Cake<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">CAKE<o:p></o:p></span></p>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="line-height: 107%;"><br clear="all" style="break-before: auto; mso-break-type: section-break; page-break-before: auto;" />
</span>
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">2 c. sugar<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">1 c butter, room temperature<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">4 eggs<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">2 c flour<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">1 tsp soda<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">½ tsp salt<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">1 c buttermilk<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">1 tbsp vanilla<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Cream sugar and butter.
Separate eggs whites from yolks. Beat yolks and add to sugar mixture. Mix
flour, soda and salt. Add alternately, butter, mild and vanilla which have been
mixed. Beat egg whites until stiff, fold into cake mixture. Evenly divide into
two or three 9 inch pans. Bake 35-40 minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">ICING<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">¼ c butter<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">1 (8oz) pkg cream cheese<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">1 tbsp vanilla<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">1 lb box of powdered sugar<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">1 tbsp cream<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Cream butter and cream cheese. Add powdered sugar, mix well.
Spread on top and sides. Put coconut of top and sides.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span><a href="http://amzn.to/3KGcyrc"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Gay's Author Page</span></b></a><br /></span></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-31390198971567972062023-07-26T09:38:00.000-07:002023-07-26T09:38:28.448-07:00Money Spent On Makeup<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijAidaklGcj5h7j5xFV2HmgFH0fRcMrM4TlsAThFdYhXD-x_YC31FZZo15eRMiVwlDUJfBOgpJ7COuQuFrd3_e77wWUDPLeF0K2F-7chwrDREMXPlGRxJFi3Sk8pkXC8e8bZDMqgL6fbAlWaKxBgJ6tDGNrOqKNZfjoS_JBhch65pkWFFqPz5-E51zHdgy/s1280/makeup-brushe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijAidaklGcj5h7j5xFV2HmgFH0fRcMrM4TlsAThFdYhXD-x_YC31FZZo15eRMiVwlDUJfBOgpJ7COuQuFrd3_e77wWUDPLeF0K2F-7chwrDREMXPlGRxJFi3Sk8pkXC8e8bZDMqgL6fbAlWaKxBgJ6tDGNrOqKNZfjoS_JBhch65pkWFFqPz5-E51zHdgy/w400-h266/makeup-brushe.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">How much do women spend on makeup? It's a lot!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">And judging from my makeup drawer, I’m no exception. I just
bought a new drawer organizer and realized I have too many products for one location!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">One survey done several years ago estimated the average USA
woman will spend about $300,000 in her lifetime on facial stuff. This amount
doesn’t include hair or nail products.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Where a lady lives makes a difference. New York,
California, and New Mexico came in as the top three states where ladies spend
the most amount of money. Vermont, Maine, and New Hampshire were three states where women spent the least amount on faces.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">This data is a surprise to me. Most of the females I see here
in Texas wear makeup, but Texas wasn’t listed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">The survey doesn’t say how many years make up a lifetime, but it says $300,000 over several years? Whoa! That's a lot of money.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">How many eons do we ladies buy makeup for our faces? </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">How old were you when you started to apply the stuff?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">I was about twelve when I began. I tried earlier, but my
mom wouldn’t allow it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">A friend of mine recently turned 91, and she’s still
applying stuff to her face and neck. She looks great!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 24px;">She looks twenty years younger. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">All those years of taking care of her skin paid off. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">The survey said we put about 16 commodities to our face
each day. So, I counted mine, the ones I use morning and night and found 14. I’m
missing two. My amount doesn’t include anything I reapply during the day.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">As I rearranged my makeup drawer, I wondered what items I
could do without.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hmmm….? I threw away one
thing. It was a lipstick and it was a duplicate.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgIgzbyqhiH-CQS-5PpoipFcrpCWFUSgbU93ePPBNUaob59PjzzAxjUyldnstUFUVVo3JE6hZkB1t2lIqU_KtR5XT09rNGgoPvDHwZxdirDeQtx7bJlE35Uy9DSShy1ATjNLVwLavM3JVrOJZgXld3Yts4Rl4_jtLT9PjXpR_ZRDy6p9utCxkENlRvm2A4x" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="427" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgIgzbyqhiH-CQS-5PpoipFcrpCWFUSgbU93ePPBNUaob59PjzzAxjUyldnstUFUVVo3JE6hZkB1t2lIqU_KtR5XT09rNGgoPvDHwZxdirDeQtx7bJlE35Uy9DSShy1ATjNLVwLavM3JVrOJZgXld3Yts4Rl4_jtLT9PjXpR_ZRDy6p9utCxkENlRvm2A4x=w267-h400" width="267" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">If you could only keep two products, what would you choose?
I’d choose my night cream and my eyebrow pencil.</span></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">I’ve used the Extra Emollient Night Cream from Mary Kay Cosmetics
since it first came on the market. In my opinion, it’s the best and least expensive moisturizer
ever created. If I fail to use it, my face feels like a dried-up prune.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">The most expensive item in my daily routine is the makeup
base. Maybe bases is a better word. I’ve wasted money on that stuff. Buying the
wrong shade is a hazard. At this time, I’m mixing several colors.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 24px;">Eyelashes are in vogue these days. You can apply them yourself, or spend a small fortune and allow it done for you. I haven’t worn those spidery things in years, but I kept a pair in my drawer…just in case.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAk-unHrcNgozVDRumBkfvSqZSLvczX9BwYNjUDoG8tFlSA4JkYaPFwWA9ACKgaS1JkMdSdyB1vuplnIxEDt1FLWhWH9M7paNxFAZ2WFaGW3DTz59WGN-5Skl2pKa8-anA9FBpTDRS8HFdIS8GAaMvQQRWQXFGBNxpjxQCewR-D_TdoLeiCZ6y3px7ZtD6" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="353" data-original-width="640" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAk-unHrcNgozVDRumBkfvSqZSLvczX9BwYNjUDoG8tFlSA4JkYaPFwWA9ACKgaS1JkMdSdyB1vuplnIxEDt1FLWhWH9M7paNxFAZ2WFaGW3DTz59WGN-5Skl2pKa8-anA9FBpTDRS8HFdIS8GAaMvQQRWQXFGBNxpjxQCewR-D_TdoLeiCZ6y3px7ZtD6" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;">I kept a trashcan handy so I could throw away makeup I didn’t
use. That one tube of lipstick looks lonely in there.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18pt;"><br /></span></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVSBB2YEttTxmN43MvV5Z0-C7cMMO9FJnLlWECSb4CFUQg0MpkviIqNWvA7LlrjbFjJzzKBZ-QcpnGW2SEBBIXSPy6W7FeyNvXWK01aV8m4SGxDlOQB7OtTW3cqv-Rdkfl7ygswejDdApYKZzCwQX7WDv9hR71QHYFoBKx6gcG1jDRnnXgPFlrbCBamWEP" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiVSBB2YEttTxmN43MvV5Z0-C7cMMO9FJnLlWECSb4CFUQg0MpkviIqNWvA7LlrjbFjJzzKBZ-QcpnGW2SEBBIXSPy6W7FeyNvXWK01aV8m4SGxDlOQB7OtTW3cqv-Rdkfl7ygswejDdApYKZzCwQX7WDv9hR71QHYFoBKx6gcG1jDRnnXgPFlrbCBamWEP" width="244" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://amzn.to/3KGcyrc"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Gay's Author Page</span></a></div><p></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-70044836291055823112023-07-14T10:01:00.001-07:002023-09-16T05:39:25.850-07:00Trusting in the Unknown<p> <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOnl82jMcMOxY8jqNiBLCwg2xAXPXWQAqckhm4sWaem2NpRQZTra8VQaDu6WorSnPWCGLoMxUCUdqfK9NkQAPjuC-LQjcXITvUv768rxRd81lqfoR9exIrFvOQzhv4Nmijh5SJqgJiwyQDNLpPhjYMuV-iY5ALTzkCr5hcl_NdDDKU9Zg98xUZ_YGjgkFN/s1920/sunset%20and%20blue%20sky%20and%20ocean.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1046" data-original-width="1920" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOnl82jMcMOxY8jqNiBLCwg2xAXPXWQAqckhm4sWaem2NpRQZTra8VQaDu6WorSnPWCGLoMxUCUdqfK9NkQAPjuC-LQjcXITvUv768rxRd81lqfoR9exIrFvOQzhv4Nmijh5SJqgJiwyQDNLpPhjYMuV-iY5ALTzkCr5hcl_NdDDKU9Zg98xUZ_YGjgkFN/w640-h348/sunset%20and%20blue%20sky%20and%20ocean.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From a Cruise on the Columbia River</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I love this picture. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I have no idea what is beyond the sunset and watery horizon, but there's something there. Maybe it's more beauty, or perhaps it is an ugly storm.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Perspective matters.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">What I find good, another person might find bad.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Our daughter has end stages of dementia. This is bad.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">We oversee her needs and guard her wellbeing. This is good.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">In earlier times, she thanked us for our care. Now she doesn't respond and can't say much, but she would thank us if she could. She'd go overboard with gratitude if she knew what we were doing for her.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">We are in chaos at this moment. New developments have arisen. She lives in a community, and the director tells us they will increase the monthly charge in August by 63%. We expected 5%, that's what the contract specifies, but 63%? We can't afford that.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">We are in the process of relocation.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Does she know this?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">No, of course not.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Is she worried? No. She doesn't know anything about it, but way back in the day, she trusted us to provide for her.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">And so we are.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">We are spending hours and sleepless nights preparing this move as we work on her behalf. We love her, and she loves us.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">As I thought about this situation, it dawned upon me that God does the same for us.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">He labors for us because we place our confidence in Him. At times, we see Him working, and at other instances, we merely believe He is on the job. Sight unseen. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">When our daughter could cogitate, we teased each other. I'd tell her, "I loved you first." She'd respond, "I love you the most."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">We love Him because He frist loved us. And He loves us the most.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">So today, the similarities dawned on me. God does for us what we do for our children.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">God provides even when we don't know what lies ahead. We are always on His mind, and He is acting, sight unseen, on our behalf.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-large;"><a href="http://amzn.to/3KGcyrc">Gay"s Author Page on Amazon</a><br /></span></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-48595836624762130932023-06-15T12:27:00.000-07:002023-06-15T12:27:47.341-07:00Favorite Cook Book<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0blR7VbLALcyVaHyBzVFEdnHFU1LJlXcZDyaPP7Pv1gI1H7oM-KF8UqlY2s_CszXK_WGH--4ZWphZb9Vu-nzE4y06xCcE1179UgaHs1qgc0JMCybWkux4pYa3yjlOHVIjY7udwlvSLYsCqc2U1Ggh6aO0JgwpO8YGxuwzVHjW0bgUyR-b7ETrOExRrw" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0blR7VbLALcyVaHyBzVFEdnHFU1LJlXcZDyaPP7Pv1gI1H7oM-KF8UqlY2s_CszXK_WGH--4ZWphZb9Vu-nzE4y06xCcE1179UgaHs1qgc0JMCybWkux4pYa3yjlOHVIjY7udwlvSLYsCqc2U1Ggh6aO0JgwpO8YGxuwzVHjW0bgUyR-b7ETrOExRrw" width="320" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">I cook a lot, but I'm not good at it. I don't like the
chore. Did I tell you I hate chopping veggies? No? Well, I do. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">I once cut a deep gash in my finger and the doctor had to sew it up. I did that on a can opener, but I also cut myself when I chop stuff.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Multiple cookbooks adorn a large cabinet in my kitchen. I
love to read the recipes. I'll examine one and think, "that sounds good,
but I don't have all the ingredients."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Why do all these journals call for odd things?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Here are a few examples:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Fresh minced oregano.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Ground turmeric.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Grated fresh ginger.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Fresh dill.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Fresh thyme.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">One bunch of arugula.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Frozen artichoke hearts.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">My organic farmer daughter has all the above mentioned
herbs growing fresh. I do not. Every now and then, I will purchase a can of
artichoke hearts. I don't like arugula, so it can't be found here in my
refrigerator. On to the next recipe.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBs1qc8-vTYJfxtF__rNboF11ZcrozssHTtW0rYg1TBIZI8bQEQq_5HuAVWnzzU1_GP18B8BDyc3shL02HLp7z9nT3d8zBz0bm0XEspmxLzJiOSJbOxD8o3lGdi22VU1Q44YTh4rOTd2A_Fkqo-5dohv_yn4AZ05ckhp5jhxRWhg5bAqGiZs_Azgeslw/s1394/green%20cookbook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1394" data-original-width="1223" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBs1qc8-vTYJfxtF__rNboF11ZcrozssHTtW0rYg1TBIZI8bQEQq_5HuAVWnzzU1_GP18B8BDyc3shL02HLp7z9nT3d8zBz0bm0XEspmxLzJiOSJbOxD8o3lGdi22VU1Q44YTh4rOTd2A_Fkqo-5dohv_yn4AZ05ckhp5jhxRWhg5bAqGiZs_Azgeslw/s320/green%20cookbook.jpg" width="281" /></a></div><br /></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 22.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">My go-to cookbook is this green one. It was published by
the Houston Junior Forum, first printing in 1980, second one in 1981. We
once had a secretary who belonged to the Houston Junior Forum, and she gave me
this handy little ditty.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">I use it often and write a date on the recipe when I try it. I also give the
dish a review. (I am an author, you know, and writers like reviews, although
the cooks will never see them in this book. If you read my books, please leave a reiew.)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Some of the dishes are repeaters, others, not so much. The
best banana nut bread of all time is in this volume, and I've made it too many
times to count.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">I'll share a recipe I amended from this versatile little tome. If I change a recipe,
it's my own, right? After trying it various ways, including the way it was
written, I think my amended way is better.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Gay's Easy Bake Chicken<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Ingredients<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Thick bacon slices. Don't
use thin sliced.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Sliced potato rounds from
two potatoes (about ¼ inch thick)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">2 cans cream of chicken
soup<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">2 large cans of condensed
milk<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">6 to 8 Chicken tenders<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Salt and pepper.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">In a medium Pyrex baking dish, place the bacon strips to
cover the bottom. Place potato rounds on top of the bacon. (I use two medium
sized russets) Mix soup and milk together. Pour over bacon and potatoes. Save a
portion. Place chicken trips on top and add remaining mixture. Cover tight and
bake at 325 degrees. It takes about 3 hours. I pull the pan from the oven, hold
it up, and check the bottom to make sure the bacon is done.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Most of the recipes in my green book have normal
stuff. Yay! Did you see the date? Early 80's. Food was more normal back
then. Our organic farmer, Lanissa, will inherit this green cookbook. She loves kitchen duties and uses all fresh ingredients from her garden. She won't need the one pictured
below.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 22.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlU2bWPh_qtjh8JrASbpQUfsqUWazrKU_WQiL0mPTgscJGsV9d17Icb6niRQ8I8K9eaV6TG9TE026E7uitHZMK8d86c_s7jv8Dxk6trDYybd888fAgeUb7H8k8V04pzUxUngYy1WUpsJowmWA28zm084hgFqodCApZdH0zGj1TaWKwvoZJUv8UcZFRlQ/s1595/cook%20book%20for%20dummies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 22pt; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1595" data-original-width="1258" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlU2bWPh_qtjh8JrASbpQUfsqUWazrKU_WQiL0mPTgscJGsV9d17Icb6niRQ8I8K9eaV6TG9TE026E7uitHZMK8d86c_s7jv8Dxk6trDYybd888fAgeUb7H8k8V04pzUxUngYy1WUpsJowmWA28zm084hgFqodCApZdH0zGj1TaWKwvoZJUv8UcZFRlQ/s320/cook%20book%20for%20dummies.jpg" width="252" /></a></p><p><span style="font-size: 22pt;">Authors write books for dummies.
You'll find dozens of them at booksellers. I bought a diabetes cookbook for
dummies years ago. I also bought one for computers. I haven't read or used
either one.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 22pt;">I thought the cookbook for
dummies would be easy and healthy. It probably is healthy, but it isn't easy.
Every recipe calls for fresh herbs and a dedicated amount of time. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 22pt;">Herbs are expensive, and if you
buy a bunch and use a teaspoon, you've lost money. I suppose you can substitute
dried herbs, but you must keep a lot of bottles on hand.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 22pt;">I decided to sub one herb in a
recipe. I checked the date on my dried thyme—1995. Well, so much for that. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 22pt;">I need to clean out that spice
rack.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
</p><p><span style="font-size: 22pt;">What are you planning for dinner
tonight? Uber Eats? Door Dash? That sounds like a plan.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 22pt;"><a href="http://amzn.to/3KGcyrc">Gay's Author Page</a><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-86748747792594542832023-06-06T03:42:00.000-07:002023-06-06T03:42:26.216-07:00WWII Letters<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhmE-Q3PkQD_EIJrbg2ZV0TmX6C9zAyNCc6I0eaUHhkXYbVUsmPOvUou_jLCFChKlaNieSXpgsDk9yQCVUBNSBwowDz-3TqNcfXlJwmkAqaMqS3IF2Q9imi6rI_80Xg6kmGZ5c8yZzmEaLseD8-sRginCAiJnyfTJHHTWTOi0vHEYroF7NRSYd3h34ZsA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhmE-Q3PkQD_EIJrbg2ZV0TmX6C9zAyNCc6I0eaUHhkXYbVUsmPOvUou_jLCFChKlaNieSXpgsDk9yQCVUBNSBwowDz-3TqNcfXlJwmkAqaMqS3IF2Q9imi6rI_80Xg6kmGZ5c8yZzmEaLseD8-sRginCAiJnyfTJHHTWTOi0vHEYroF7NRSYd3h34ZsA=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">They were lost but
now they are found.</span></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">I’m talking about my
Dad's letters. The ones he wrote to my mother during WWII. My mom gave them to me years
ago, and I've moved them around with me.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">About ten years ago, we downsized
our library, and I was positive my husband accidentally gave them away. He offered
many cartons of books to two young Baylor University preacher boys, and I couldn't find my box after that. I thought the keepsakes were gone forever. I hoped the young preachers would find the letters and donate them to a WWII museum.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Hubby was in the
attic a few days ago and brought </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 29.3333px;">down</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;"> several containers. Was I ever surprised
and happy! The letters and memorabilia are found!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">The letters are posted from Los Angeles, Camp Berkly, Texas, Fort Sill Oklahoma, and Fort Dix New Jersey. I plan to organize them by dates. A few have no postmarks, only a return address. The word "free" appears where the stamp should be. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">In one of the posts,
my dad tells my mom that he loves me, and then he adds, "even if you don't
think I do." I guess my mom had written her concern—my dad hadn’t
met me, and I suppose she thought he therefore couldn’t love me. My dad didn't see
me until I was two years old, but he knew I belonged to him, and he loved me.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">In another letter,
he asked if I was still blonde. I was blonde when he finally saw me, but
My hair grew darker with age. Early on, it turned white like my dad's. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 22pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">I</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">n another letter,
he wrote, "you won't know me. I'm white headed and weigh 145
pounds." He mentioned several times that he and the troops were
hungry. He also wrote that they hadn't been paid.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">He, along with coutless others, stormed the Normandy beaches. D-Day was June 6. His battallian fought their way in on June 7, known as D-Day Plus One.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">My dad had to be
transported from France to England and was in the hospital in country for weeks. In
one letter, he wrote, "I bought a dozen eggs from a lady, boiled them here
in the ward, and ate them all." Perhaps he had been paid by then. On the
other hand, it appears from the communication that guys serving often wrote
home for money, but he said he never would do that.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilyGqoW4J1yAjHi0opMrmTrMHxQMYiLckj9HprFbZJAQi5RrcmPSCeSpAuZcIYWGS1PZPtPgBHVjPMwnWwyxa6YuIPuzMXO7q0aXpgHwG7MCq4VYmVz5rIBa62vUdOdu5VbtVQUxTk9MR8AGRWU5UwTKJWm3UKLu7yf4rtz9jf2TnE_lnpkuZjS2DdSQ/s2016/Dad's%20letters%20and%20Mom's%20shoe%20in%20box.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilyGqoW4J1yAjHi0opMrmTrMHxQMYiLckj9HprFbZJAQi5RrcmPSCeSpAuZcIYWGS1PZPtPgBHVjPMwnWwyxa6YuIPuzMXO7q0aXpgHwG7MCq4VYmVz5rIBa62vUdOdu5VbtVQUxTk9MR8AGRWU5UwTKJWm3UKLu7yf4rtz9jf2TnE_lnpkuZjS2DdSQ/w480-h640/Dad's%20letters%20and%20Mom's%20shoe%20in%20box.jpg" width="480" /></a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">The carton contains
letters written over a four-year period, it also has a pair of my mom's shoes,
an old iron, and a box with two packages of unopened Chesterfield
cigarettes. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">There is also a Thanksgiving menu from a hospital in McKinny, TX. Like most WWII guys, Dad never spoke much about his war experiences, and I didn't know about this hospital stay. Based on the date of the menu, he had returned to the USA, and was recovering at a hospital in Texas.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiWX32L-OSEoidmA3nXthq_4pP0QHUEI6beeWVokDxjJ77vl_JbwEu_cgX0kYI4gsMT4QyKxZrcsywnz1WSuSrsNPwkUCdgGGfzmrGDwxZ_LdEY1s2kgJD4ihOoezF49LxCm8jv4Pu68696_26xSlKiawDxduqER4_KhxksU5RtUFD3vm7ONf5ZSFIRg/s2525/really%20old%20iron.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2525" data-original-width="2439" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiWX32L-OSEoidmA3nXthq_4pP0QHUEI6beeWVokDxjJ77vl_JbwEu_cgX0kYI4gsMT4QyKxZrcsywnz1WSuSrsNPwkUCdgGGfzmrGDwxZ_LdEY1s2kgJD4ihOoezF49LxCm8jv4Pu68696_26xSlKiawDxduqER4_KhxksU5RtUFD3vm7ONf5ZSFIRg/w386-h400/really%20old%20iron.jpg" width="386" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsRSKUMeFceE9uut-qNyEv9wkLebPbBlrfAUGB7mHjEv7F3trA-y54gO6vt0AaYeJD6vStVMfyOBF776FbQ3UXN6XFXPDJiuE3LKASCFMfyKe6TXkFyAwUDzooKuxQx5fK7MIxP8mLTTFrCk7-FpJridhnvXfOGlW2IH6G2UZuFShbfnqiCZR1liC7-A/s4032/Dad's%20Chesterfield%20Cigarettes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsRSKUMeFceE9uut-qNyEv9wkLebPbBlrfAUGB7mHjEv7F3trA-y54gO6vt0AaYeJD6vStVMfyOBF776FbQ3UXN6XFXPDJiuE3LKASCFMfyKe6TXkFyAwUDzooKuxQx5fK7MIxP8mLTTFrCk7-FpJridhnvXfOGlW2IH6G2UZuFShbfnqiCZR1liC7-A/w480-h640/Dad's%20Chesterfield%20Cigarettes.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwpr5alGzXRboO6sNA_qXPhlREFFJGaA-BEwoOnX8skQNfV6b2OIju7bdxsOrljd2iIUxC2GF4cVKITawy3pOE9gcYaEa1PBDSxv8L6QE9pMxsnae1DtQ2qsFMG0s4UjEUzKgNbO2E_RjG5ZuSr53ihQPrQmN_IGK6BygoghomHcyfy70O9zBylauXPw/s2178/Dad's%20thanksgiving%20menu.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2178" data-original-width="1795" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwpr5alGzXRboO6sNA_qXPhlREFFJGaA-BEwoOnX8skQNfV6b2OIju7bdxsOrljd2iIUxC2GF4cVKITawy3pOE9gcYaEa1PBDSxv8L6QE9pMxsnae1DtQ2qsFMG0s4UjEUzKgNbO2E_RjG5ZuSr53ihQPrQmN_IGK6BygoghomHcyfy70O9zBylauXPw/w528-h640/Dad's%20thanksgiving%20menu.jpg" width="528" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigh60KADEtSuqQCmgl5dhMeEPCGhToCcDe8MbkTghYS5C-hJcrIDykCYxpgz8d11TyQvPH0yZV-oZj-PQWrHTwCkCuTbkH97MGOl8u9032_iEyk2BR_IBy1e7fDwWcCrGTIcadLsvEjBRCjmy8qZrYd3iTZxxSJ_6PHhk5a4u1ukAhJdCP74MoldB-7A/s1295/Dad's%20open%20menu.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1295" data-original-width="1168" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigh60KADEtSuqQCmgl5dhMeEPCGhToCcDe8MbkTghYS5C-hJcrIDykCYxpgz8d11TyQvPH0yZV-oZj-PQWrHTwCkCuTbkH97MGOl8u9032_iEyk2BR_IBy1e7fDwWcCrGTIcadLsvEjBRCjmy8qZrYd3iTZxxSJ_6PHhk5a4u1ukAhJdCP74MoldB-7A/w578-h640/Dad's%20open%20menu.jpg" width="578" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Look closely at the
bottom of the menu. The patients were treated to cigarettes after their
Thanksgiving meal.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;">Reading these
treasures is like studying a family history book.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 22pt;"> </span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://amzn.to/3KGcyrc"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Gay N. Lewis on Amazon</span></a><br /></div><p></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-70297054224793326562023-05-28T13:51:00.000-07:002023-05-28T14:35:31.694-07:00Memorial Day 2023<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-UlW7wqUDWqGS65M2bGErIIfNkdErH2BnZJCgENX1pNSCLskHH0G85RogMUTqUxeokr82jCX3BMtR6hN6_ZMiYZCklzPl2gPcOd6Q5k8B3h2eut5cuw2b5ZZBp5zb6nNsgnMQrQYPu8N8sDYG_nn-NHFAGGxPHhoRBYdT3STS7Ps9A2oOUGDpmcxq7Q/s3264/Mr.%20Moore%20with%20flag.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-UlW7wqUDWqGS65M2bGErIIfNkdErH2BnZJCgENX1pNSCLskHH0G85RogMUTqUxeokr82jCX3BMtR6hN6_ZMiYZCklzPl2gPcOd6Q5k8B3h2eut5cuw2b5ZZBp5zb6nNsgnMQrQYPu8N8sDYG_nn-NHFAGGxPHhoRBYdT3STS7Ps9A2oOUGDpmcxq7Q/s320/Mr.%20Moore%20with%20flag.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mr. Tom Moore</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I think of Mr. Moore on Memorial Day. He didn't die in WWII, but he was a Prisoner of War in a German camp. When he returned home, he married and had a family, but he couldn't sleep with his wife. His nightmares were too vivid. He thrased about in his sleep and without knowing it, he could have hurt her.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">He didn't talk much about his experiences, but he went to the the VA in Houston each Wednesday to meet with fellow veterans who had suffered similar horrific circumstances.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">He attended my Bible study. As we discussed the Israelite wilderness wanderings, I said "the Hebrews grew tired of manna." He commented, "When you get hungry enough, you'll eat anything." As a POW, he found this to be true.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-RKtxXXr-7pK22fnqRYBhuUzKC9Iqm68wQ_uSGfTM5p7GH8XaEoDy1MeySF6ljJn1fTAsB6-1eKUQnDslMdbsLrPIL9MNPhFj3CJAQVGSAmHLYTjq_lC-S4wPJ6l0Pup9T2wKG2tH0YnwNc2a4frswHrQiS6cK3t7PYMI4dyY71JfdxcS_F1BTjS8Uw/s589/Mom%20and%20Dad%20Army%20edited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="589" data-original-width="350" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-RKtxXXr-7pK22fnqRYBhuUzKC9Iqm68wQ_uSGfTM5p7GH8XaEoDy1MeySF6ljJn1fTAsB6-1eKUQnDslMdbsLrPIL9MNPhFj3CJAQVGSAmHLYTjq_lC-S4wPJ6l0Pup9T2wKG2tH0YnwNc2a4frswHrQiS6cK3t7PYMI4dyY71JfdxcS_F1BTjS8Uw/s320/Mom%20and%20Dad%20Army%20edited.jpg" width="190" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My mom and dad</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">(You now know where I inherited my white hair)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">My dad served in WWII. He was a sergeant who, along with others, stormed the Normandy beaches. He fought in France and had to be transported to a hospital in England before returning home.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Like Mr. Moore, he never spoke of his war incidents. He didn't sleep well and would be up all hours. He never met with other veterans, but I think such gatherings were beneficial to Mr. Moore. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">These two men came home to live with their war memories, but others from numerous deployments haven't. Since WWII, America has had various conflicts. Men and women buried at national cemeteries number too many.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDls3yjB2bUsrDdb5dmoxeQ_sI33gdyt9wTGwY-gmxbxfdDTsJnzAtPvOtJGrG9Tuk_m2ogMNHTwEQrBQS5meTQObi6bslx4--V1RMM6_0FBF5oDfJn-BnwtaVkTYJkPKBLaU2IKmzV5k8KbN3iuM1a_5gi2EoI_E32r4QPNn_GF0HDZ5eIobS0Bs9AA/s3264/Arlington%20National%20Cemetery%20(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDls3yjB2bUsrDdb5dmoxeQ_sI33gdyt9wTGwY-gmxbxfdDTsJnzAtPvOtJGrG9Tuk_m2ogMNHTwEQrBQS5meTQObi6bslx4--V1RMM6_0FBF5oDfJn-BnwtaVkTYJkPKBLaU2IKmzV5k8KbN3iuM1a_5gi2EoI_E32r4QPNn_GF0HDZ5eIobS0Bs9AA/s320/Arlington%20National%20Cemetery%20(2).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">Arlington National Cemetery</p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">On this Memorial Day weekend, please pause to remember the sacrifices. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidsSOjyaTcDZWlN6WlxIBBnWCxYBl09FRbMBSsT5n9BzKmeuGAIKeTpjPLmu0OtClu65bEILVP4y96Ngbgu2Xhd03NWzCwj3mbQWW0_RQpeZA6BJ-bOraL4gdhU4L6-i6eq1-jfAGFKZA1ndiFVgXJRUaUpGplzZBFOJ6VFbqwHnP0um27ViZpHsfbSg/s728/Joey-Jones.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="520" data-original-width="728" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidsSOjyaTcDZWlN6WlxIBBnWCxYBl09FRbMBSsT5n9BzKmeuGAIKeTpjPLmu0OtClu65bEILVP4y96Ngbgu2Xhd03NWzCwj3mbQWW0_RQpeZA6BJ-bOraL4gdhU4L6-i6eq1-jfAGFKZA1ndiFVgXJRUaUpGplzZBFOJ6VFbqwHnP0um27ViZpHsfbSg/s320/Joey-Jones.webp" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Joey Jones, retired Marine</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Joey Jones, a retired Marine, served in two deployments. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Libre Baskerville";"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Joey wears prosthetic legs
after he stepped on an explosive device in Afghanistan. I heard him say
something like this. “When people thank me for my service, I respond with, ‘thank
you for being in a country worth serving.’”</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Libre Baskerville";"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Libre Baskerville";"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Numerous men and women who serve or served in our armed forces feel that way. We are a blessed nation.</span></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: "Libre Baskerville"; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSLM3dfcw_p8kF3GL6At1X8s4pp8HvL12G_ucvTOWMHyLCWxjOQ53Pt8Kqj8CtI8zSKOtMxxWPESJJsc8cMm-zFrmYO3G1wyE3JbR2zxyVfqAu5BPoI0PN5FbU0DFGsToEn8TilkeyBBzyhoKzXao4a4NfF5ehVkFySDShxBE7PhLcVZQl8Bo1p_6J_A/s3264/Flag.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSLM3dfcw_p8kF3GL6At1X8s4pp8HvL12G_ucvTOWMHyLCWxjOQ53Pt8Kqj8CtI8zSKOtMxxWPESJJsc8cMm-zFrmYO3G1wyE3JbR2zxyVfqAu5BPoI0PN5FbU0DFGsToEn8TilkeyBBzyhoKzXao4a4NfF5ehVkFySDShxBE7PhLcVZQl8Bo1p_6J_A/s320/Flag.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Gay and her flag</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">All who stayed at home and supported the men and women at the front lines have sacrificed also.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">On this day, let us remember our military. The ones who paid the ultimate sacrifice, and the ones who came home, but continue to suffer.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://amzn.to/3KGcyrc">Gay's Author Page</a><br /></span></div><br /> <p></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-76187507514832984022023-05-25T07:53:00.004-07:002023-05-25T07:54:16.432-07:00Nearly Normal<p> </p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Nearly Normal<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">What is that
anyway?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">The
Circumstances ordinary for me might be odd to you. On the other hand,
situations usual for you might be eccentric to me. Take snowflakes as an
example. Each one is similar but unique. So, each flake is normal to its
species.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha0qC_frrIos2C3uRSjgUhdYxO9cKDgW7YAaQUNLvDaV0z75BK-_Zos6UFxkZgDrM8_-KdBZUTM_Xe6rSSbrH1vocXpNXbLkSPvA_gQz5S58brDAPiOin5nl5CrZmOk3wsQJbN54qSI69ZAQIDu2qBp3tUyT2GgksLmL_L7wf_qPURvI8h36-c-xurlw/s2553/Nearly%20Normal%20Cup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2553" data-original-width="2257" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha0qC_frrIos2C3uRSjgUhdYxO9cKDgW7YAaQUNLvDaV0z75BK-_Zos6UFxkZgDrM8_-KdBZUTM_Xe6rSSbrH1vocXpNXbLkSPvA_gQz5S58brDAPiOin5nl5CrZmOk3wsQJbN54qSI69ZAQIDu2qBp3tUyT2GgksLmL_L7wf_qPURvI8h36-c-xurlw/s320/Nearly%20Normal%20Cup.jpg" width="283" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">My three
daughters gave me a key chain years ago. It read, “Nearly Normal.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eons later, one of those daughters gave me
the mug you see pictured. She added the "We love you anyway!" She’s also given me an expensive charm bracelet with
a disc engraved with those same words.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Like a
flakey little piece of snow, I suppose I am uncommon in a few ways. Not many,
mind you, just a few.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">I gave
myself a surprise party. That’s when I received the first gift, the key chain, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Yep! You
read that right. I gave a surprise birthday party for myself. Well, who else
does such a thing? Someone who is nearly, almost, completely normal—that’s who.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">I bought my
presents and had them professionally wrapped. I designed my birthday cake. It
resembled a wedding tier, and I had it iced with cream cheese frosting tinted a
salmon color. The cake was beautiful. I invited friends to meet me in San
Antonio for my surprise party.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">After I
arrived at the hotel on the River Walk, I decorated my room with streamers, signs,
balloons, cake, goodies, and displayed the gifts I had bought. When the room
was ready, I invited the group inside. When they opened the door, I yelled,
“Surprise!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I sang Happy Birthday
to myself.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">Among the
gifts friends and family brought was the key chain. “Nearly Normal.” I still
have it today.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> <a href="http://amzn.to/3KGcyrc"><b>Gay's Author Page on Amzaon</b></a></o:p></span></li></ul><p></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5709064618966124045.post-56481148231067504432023-05-09T11:40:00.002-07:002023-05-09T11:40:38.461-07:00A New Recipe?<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcLSvVrKC2j5NLQ9wj_-HPhZrFUNponLaLs66aTA8zdhaQlS5MPlfvYxPL4VYqlpHKiIPiNhN6xNtNHUbgnQ_-0Gk0h6ptWN8BWnDSE6UgtTHOboONn_OhFD_f44QfhtcRmUCtP-ZNVNMg2FOJl4J4Gj9CI1Eipj94pGv-7Gu7UH43SbyyncL3gaPqQ/s960/sweet-potatoes-996_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcLSvVrKC2j5NLQ9wj_-HPhZrFUNponLaLs66aTA8zdhaQlS5MPlfvYxPL4VYqlpHKiIPiNhN6xNtNHUbgnQ_-0Gk0h6ptWN8BWnDSE6UgtTHOboONn_OhFD_f44QfhtcRmUCtP-ZNVNMg2FOJl4J4Gj9CI1Eipj94pGv-7Gu7UH43SbyyncL3gaPqQ/s320/sweet-potatoes-996_960_720.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUK8204ONnYhJm4qU7aJoSWZkogEXfKx1-2IPjwIajAWIaNwQTzeBnwX5anNSwQzss2jHDF6lmee9PxTi7uepcLKy6WSRjcUTgipFJDrDmxt4spYAmOvishKFGMAL4wyIVrCHV8nwd23X57QP7OVlAWGomO7cOjbJ_BHPUPegV3yeluBMMTYiYjjxvFQ/s1920/fruit-2138391_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1920" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUK8204ONnYhJm4qU7aJoSWZkogEXfKx1-2IPjwIajAWIaNwQTzeBnwX5anNSwQzss2jHDF6lmee9PxTi7uepcLKy6WSRjcUTgipFJDrDmxt4spYAmOvishKFGMAL4wyIVrCHV8nwd23X57QP7OVlAWGomO7cOjbJ_BHPUPegV3yeluBMMTYiYjjxvFQ/s320/fruit-2138391_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH1Cb_6jHb_7Iz-MvGgPcmHxbqdSIdyqAL_GCCkoSoVx2XsZS6-Pd59L9NQOwa7iiakMT7W9A1nG3NXkFrf0PUYFTjkV5zZfxqmq03aS3N0F2bXfjU-7l1u8nstdIAaCKsmlsGW_J9ZHQqdoAvRZPMmloXBFnm4DookDWrHOimOn4xQCp6-ltXjVo3ig/s960/pastries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH1Cb_6jHb_7Iz-MvGgPcmHxbqdSIdyqAL_GCCkoSoVx2XsZS6-Pd59L9NQOwa7iiakMT7W9A1nG3NXkFrf0PUYFTjkV5zZfxqmq03aS3N0F2bXfjU-7l1u8nstdIAaCKsmlsGW_J9ZHQqdoAvRZPMmloXBFnm4DookDWrHOimOn4xQCp6-ltXjVo3ig/s320/pastries.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p> <span style="font-size: x-large;">I dreamed I was eating a screetch. What is that, you ask?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">It was a mashed sweet potato mixed with crushed pineapple. This mixture was encased in a flaky pastry and was tasty.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">In my dream, I ask the cook what it was, and she replied, "A screetch."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I've never had that combination before, and now that I am awake, I'm not sure about it, either. I liked it in my dream.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Why did the cook title the dish screetch? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">She didn't say.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span>I have a theory as to why I dreamed a strange name. I'm trying to think of a pseudonym f</span><span>or me. I'm writing a new book, and I will use a different name other than my own.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I think I told you how Amazon gets my books mixed up with gay literature. When someone typed in my name, they got the gay genre, and nothing from me. I was lost.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">After all the phone calls from my publishers and me, they still do somewhat. Currently, when you type in Gay N. Lewis in the Amazon search bar, you will see some of my books, but not all of them. Mixed in with my books is the gay genre.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I want people to find me and all my books! I'm on other booksellers, and they haven't mixed me up. But Amazon is the largest bookseller.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">What should I call myself?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I know what name I won't use. "Screetch."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm not much of a cook, but I might try mixing sweet potato and pineapple. What kind of pastry to use? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">It kinda sounds good.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: xx-large;">If any of my readers try this mixture, let me know.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://amzn.to/3KGcyrc">Gay N. Lewis on Amazon</a><br /></span></p>Gay N Lewishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12738509765741278866noreply@blogger.com0