To Know Its Christmas

Through wisdom a house is built,

      And by understanding it is established;

        By knowledge the rooms are filled

      With all precious and pleasant riches

Proverbs 24:3-4

I love Christmas time. For me, it is a time of lots of wonderful memories,  a deep sense of goodness and hope, a time of bonding with others - especially family, and a time to savour what it is to understand the reason behind the season - the birth of Christ.

I love the thought of resting, of the year coming to an end, with school finishing and having the kids around me ( am I mad???), of having Alan home and not focusing his every waking moment  on school, church or study. I get rushes of playfulness with the kids when we talk of Christmas plans, of buying and giving and recieving gifts and writing cards of thankfulness. I get spontaneous moments of cheerfulness as I walk through shopping aisles listening to songs sunk deep into my psyche, and find myself whistling, humming or even singing along without thought. I smile more at people I dont know. They are less foreign and more human at christmas time...Young kids are endearing, even the tired snotty cranky ones you find in the bustling shops, needing to go home to bed. I  find I am generally more tolerant to the irrates of every day life.   I want to socialise, slow down, let the kids run wild for a time and listen to other peoples life stories.  I enjoy focusing on them and not me.  Don't you love Christmas?  I know Christmas!

Sadly  many people have negative associations with this season. For me, I only recall positive experiences.

I think back to my child hood and find I really do appreciate the efforts my parents, and grandparents went to, to give my siblings and I, a great Christmas experience. We were so blessed, waking up at the crack of dawn to a pillowcase overflowing with goodies.

Each year, My mum used to tell us great stories of what my grandfather did when she was growing up in outback Queensland. Father Christmas (aka grandfather and grandma) would visit them, and leave sleigh n reindeer track marks etched in the dirt road for a couple of hundred metres....  to prove he had been there... ( I always wished we had dirt roads, so much for bitumen!) They also found in their Christmas sacks amongst their Christmas toys, weird quirky surprises, such as old shoes and the like. They grew up in poverty, and didn't get much at Christmas, but what they got was  filled with love and thoughtfulness from my grandmother and grand father. And so my mum ( and less so, dad)  did the same for us. We were financially  far better off as a family,  and so we received loads of gifts from Santa and our parents. We would always leave something out for Santa and the reindeer, minties and soft drink or a beer, Christmas cake or carrots, lol poor mum! It was always gone in the morning. Occasionally we'd also find the odd shoe etc, at the bottom of the bag. BUT, it was always a happy time.

 

My Grandma would also give us wonderful gifts, and a years worth of money she had saved from her pension, for us to spend. She had vigilantly put away $2 per grand child per week all year, and come Christmas, we'd have $100 or more to spend.  To any kid, even now a days, that's a huge amount of  money. My Nanna and Poppa, also sent us a card and cash (not nearly as much) and when we spent Christmas at their place, they'd go all out, to provide a wonderful feast of goodies to eat, a sing along  of carols, to nanna playing on her organ and a real live Christmas tree from the bush... It was an experience.

We always went to the school Christmas carols each year, we'd always take our candles and blankets, and sing along to the songs till the night grew dark, then pack up and walk or drive home.

Our dads side of the family had a huge family Christmas party each year, we'd drive up to Gympie or Tiaro town hall and have a wonderful get together, a cent auction, a talent show, Christmas carols, Santa n gifts all spread throughout a day full of sumptuous foods, morning tea, lunch and afternoon tea filled with country cooked delights. It was always a wonderful day, we looked forwards to, despite the long drive, and continued every xmas through all of my childhood and into my adult life, until about 12 -15yrs ago when I stopped going.

Christmas has been a wonderful time of great memories.... Sure it was never perfect, there'd be fights and forgetfulness, offences, jealousy and rudeness, and of course, gluttony abounded, but what sank into my heart, was only goodness and gratefulness and a great spiritual significance. So many times, I have found in the midst of Christmas, a real connection with my Lord and saviour. I really sensed his presence here on earth and his influence around the world. Ive felt that spirit of Christmas, Ive seen the Holy Spirit manifest its presence in the season. Its been tangible for me. Palpable.  Ive heard the hearts of people sing , as the words of hope and praise, are echoed in the Christmas songs, sung each year in the domain, and  in the Myer music bowl, beamed around Australia on TV. The joyous fun times heard and seen in the fun xmas songs, the adventures of  other nations, in the songs written in other languages. And yet I know others have felt struggle and sadness, loneliness and turmoil at this time. How my heart aches for all to know and experience the joy of Christmas.

Some  thoughts and suggestions  I can offer to those struggling through this season include... :
Make the effort to turn your sad times in to glad times- its worth it, create some good memories n traditions for yourself n your family,  write a list of everything you are grateful for (there's always something to be thankful for), look for opportunities to bless others and receive the blessings given to you with joy. Dont spend Christmas alone, you are someone elses joyful companion. Forgive those who've hurt you (not easy but essential for moving on) and lay the issues of division or loneliness at the feet of Jesus and leave them there. Lean into him, and focus on others, and you'll find that Christmas will eventually start to change. Eventually, you will find that same innate sense of celebration and hope that I get each year at this time. This I  believe with all my heart.

Anyway, I just want to take a moment to say this...

These words at the top, are from Proverbs and are my Christmas prayer for you and your family  now and for 2011. ..... I pray you will know n love this season for all it represents.

I pray you get to build your house well.  Let God guide you to find wisdom, and seek it in all you do, to build your life, your family, your physical and spiritual being, your career, your friendships, your travels and investments well. I pray that you will gain understanding in how it all comes together, that you will comprehend the importance,  identify and explore the connections, that help to establish all you live for and be established in these areas. I hope you will know fully inside and out, and  if not, then gain  the knowledge, to fill the rooms of your life with all the precious, beautiful, satisfying and pleasant riches ( in what ever forms that you desire and need), so that you will be full and blessed in all you do.

Stay in touch.

Merry Christmas, and have a wonderful new  year in 2011.

Looking for Joy.

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing

James 1:2-4

This year my joy went missing. I’ve been looking for it everywhere, and I dont know where I put it. It all started last year actually, when my father was diagnosed with an unknown brain problem in July, which turned out to be a brain tumour.

 

He deteriorated quickly and died before being able to commence chemotherapy, in January this year. 2010 got off to a bad start. I started maternity leave the week after he died, and entered a time of physical nesting, renovating the kids’ room and the baby's room. I was pleased with the results, but not overjoyed...  as it was physically taxing, and although able to muster the occasional help, it was basically all my doing, whilst heavily pregnant.

 

I had a lovely baby shower with some great friends and received many beautiful gifts, but I still didn’t get overly joyous. It was a battle between the head and the heart to enjoy the moment.
I gave birth to my daughter no 3 in April, in a mad rush to the hospital (frightened I wouldn’t make it, like no 2's birth experience). Home the same afternoon, I didnt get much chance to stop and rest. Three weeks later, on mothers day and my birthday, I got to sing n share at our mothers day service at church.... a full on effort for a mum with a newborn, who had just entered its first week of colic and reflux.   From this time onwards for a period of about three months I spiralled through all the realms of a colicky infant, crying for hours on end, only resolved when wind was passed. I got the baby hold down pat. Lying on her tummy in my arms, my hand up through the legs, rubbing in clockwise circle on her lower abdomen, whilst rocking and shushing for hours in the dark, trying to catch the puke on bibs or cloth nappies slung over my arm. Also trying not to wake my husband and kids so that they could continue on at work n school unaffected. Anyway... after trying everything I could possibly get my hands on, we started solids at 3mths n 3wks with a good result. The colic slowed, the reflux became less extensive. The wind was still present but now it was predictable, and workable.

Around the same time, I came to the realisation, that my old, old, old, dog Eden had one foot in the grave, and the other not far behind it. She was incontinent  and at times unable to stand. I think she also was blind and starting to suffer dementia. She spent hours indoors in the laundry sleeping in puddles. I had struggled for six months putting off the inevitable trip to the vet.  I wanted her to die in her sleep at home. My husbabd didnt want to pay hundreds of dollars for the deed. The whole family didnt want to see her go. She still had some interest in life, and would stand in the doorway crying for us to come feed her, every night when we sat down to tea.  She would leave nose marks on the sliding door as she peered in at us eating. Soooo after 3  yucky days of fecal incontinence, and not being able to walk unless I held her back legs up, I made the phone call and booked her in.  She was over 110yrs old in equivalent human years.

At the time, we had come to realise we needed a larger car. We had stepped up a size as family, and my little red kia was coping but only just with our new addition. We had a friend who suddenly found herself in need of a car, and taking advantage of the opportunity to ensure my little red kia would go to someone lovely, we sold it to her. Id had this car since I bought her brand new 10 yrs ago and she was a great car. She'd never broken down on me, ran like clockwork, and was amazingly economical. Plus I got to choose what color she was, and what perks she had etc... and although just a machine, I wanted to make sure she went to a good owner. So we seized the opportunity, and deciding to sell her, we had to buy a larger replacement car. Unfortunately, due to maternity leave, the banks turned us down when we applied for a loan, and we had to use money we'd saved for an overseas trip later in the year, to buy the big black beauty of a car we now own. Unfortnately I cant take  extended holidays once I return to work, so we had to surrender the plan of a family trip O/S something we'd been dreaming about for a couple of years now
. So I sold my old friend - the Kia, gained a nice near new black beauty replacement.

Even this didnt bring overwhelming joy... it was stressful getting a car, it was stressful learning how it worked. I had to let go of my old attachment, and learn to relate to something different. My car defined me, now I was not a bright young woman in the zippy red car, but a stylish 'tryhard' middle aged mum with kids. There's a ring of joylessness about that definition although  I know there shouldnt be. So on the day I got the black beauty of a car, I visited the vet and said good bye to my old dog, and my old car, and my holiday. Another set of griefs.

That was a couple of months ago. Last month, I  was sick with an acute onset of facial pain- agony which lasted for about 10 days, and saw me in hospital requiring IV fluids and narcotics to relieve it. I am still facing ongoing neurological investigations into the cause of this pain, and occasional spasms, and  am having dental treatment for a few problem teeth;  all very unpleasant experiences and fairly expensive too.
In October this year my mum, who had now been living alone in a big ol house for 8 mths,  put the  family home up for sale.  I am acutely aware that this Christmas will probably be the last year in my family home I grew up in, and it causes  me a lot of sadness although I know its a wise thing for mum to down size.

So many memories to say good bye to.  This Christmas will be the first without Dad, without my dog, the last in my old family home. I have also heard of the death of friends, unexpected and in their prime, and families  facing this Christmas without their loved ones too.
I completed my masters in June this year, and just attended my graduation. With this achievement, also comes the cessation of university studies, relief, a sense of accomplishment but also finale. So many sadnesses, so many losses, so many ends, so many letting go's.
My joy has escaped me this year and I haven’t been able to locate it. Am I depressed? Sort of,  sometimes, but it's only reactionary to the sad circumstances that have come my way.  It’s been a long time since I had a belly shaking laugh, you know, the pant wetting laughs. I miss those laughs. This is not pathological.
Life has its ups and downs. God does not promise skies forever blue,

and 2010 has been relatively grey for me.
But what I do know is that the sun still shines behind the grey clouds, and that eventually the winds change,  the clouds dissipate  or are blown away, and once again the sun can beam on through.  I know this is just a season, and to be quite frank,  I can find joy in the fact that Ive been blessed to not have such a season unitl now in my life.  I can find blessing in the fact I had a  good relationship with my Dad.I didnt have unresolved issues with him, when he passed. I am exceeding blessed by my beautiful children and husband. I can find joy in knowing I loved my dog and gave her a long life of  love.  I am glad to have finance to own my car, despite the sacrifice and it meets the needs of my growing family.  I am blessed with an inquiring mind that enjoys study and learning,  well into my adult years.  And in general, I have health, Thank you God for 2010. And even though I dont feel the joy right now, I am counting it all as joy. I am looking forward to next year and the opportunity to reclaim the joy in many different ways.



The Fall

 

This afternoon, as I lay on the bed with my baby daughter breastfeeding, I had a thought. She was doing this very cute thing as she lay between my husband and I. After suckling for a few seconds she would roll over to face my husband  (asleep with his back towards us) and touch him on his back or shoulder and smile. Then after a few seconds of resting her little hands on him, she would roll back, find my nipple and start suckling for a few more seconds before breaking off and returning to touching her daddy. She did this over and over, and the image of a little baby girl in a beautiful pink sun dress, lying facing her daddy with her little hand on his shoulder trying to get his attention, made me smile. As I gazed beyond this little scene, I looked through the window,  through the lace curtains,  out to the little stream beyond our house, and watched as the  surging wind caused ripples on the michal, tossed the eucalyptus trees side to side and made the rose bushes sway against the glass of the window.  I wanted to capture this doubly beautiful image forever, and called out to my eldest to bring me the phone, aka camera.

In her usual 8 yr old self, she groaned and moaned, dragging her feet to the chore and I had to raise the level of voice, deepen the tone to an authoritarian level, and after numerous suggestions of locality, I exited the bed,  stirring my husband, who had by now rolled over to face us, to watch the baby, chucking a pillow to her side to block her attempts to roll out of bed. Having opened his eye, I felt he was fit to watch her, and I dashed off towards the lounge and then the kitchen scanning for the object of my intent. Quickly giving up the search, daughter no 1 exited, and then from the bedroom I heard a  loud thud,  some quick, sheet ruffled movements , with correlating exasperated tones, mingled with the raising cries of a baby.  I sprinted to the room, connecting with my husband as he finally cornered the bed end and we  both scooped her off the floor together, muttering anxious, consoling  words. Fortunately, in my sloppiness Id knocked clothes off the bed as I got up, and she had landed on them, so other than a fright and a hard landing, there appeared to be no major injuries despite being a high bed and a carpeted concrete slab floor. My anxiety abated after a visual once over of her little body and snuggling her lengthways into my chest, my anger finally got the better of me. 

Why cant I leave my baby on the bed for a couple of minutes? How could he not have watched her after I asked him to? Why did I leave her with a groggy  husband, hardly able to open his eyes? How could my no 1 daughter be so slack not to have seen the phone on the kitchen bench behind the water bottle, needing me to get up and go find it myself? How come I have to be the only one responsible all the time for the care of all the children ? Why is there never someone  I can lean on for a while?  I get so tired of having to be responsible all the time...now I have to do neuro obs for a couple of hours to ensure she hasnt  caused herself any serious harm. why why why?   I berated myself, I could only really blame me.

At nearly 8 mths Lily is mobile and a danger to herself, and I am her primary carer. I had simply wanted to capture a beautiful moment in hard copy, and now I had caused her significant harm by not thinking.  Im such a bad mum some times. Argghhh I try so hard and yet I fail.  All my kids have had a fall off the bed, once... around this age.  You'd think Id learn.  Yet time and again, I take risks... unwisely trust others to care as I would;

Place unrealistic expectations on them. I demand assistance from those not capable of the task. I am the mother and it is my responsibility to be on duty 24/7. I cannot rest.  Im not allowed. But I am not perfect. I am so faulty.  Its not surprising,  Im not the proverbs 31 woman after all. I'm not above rubies, I'm below opals, I'm grounded, earthly, weak and not able. 

 But HE is able...the bible tells me so,

"Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to present your faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy, to God our Savior, who alone is wise, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and forever, Amen." Jude 24,25 .

He is able to keep me from falling,  and to present me faultess... eventually. Ashamed of my need, I read on in "My word for today",

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? (Rom 8:35) God loves us just as we are, imperfect but forgiven. Face it your Loveable! ... and  I remember that he loves us enough to meet us right where we are at.... right there at the bedside with howling baby, and right there sitting by the cot side watching this baby as she has a bad dream of falling and cries out in her sleep. He meets us right there in the midst of our frustration and anger at others but more importantly, at ourselves.

"You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

[Romans 5:6-8 NIV]

He has met us in our current state. He is not afraid of our weaknesses. This is where God excels.

I am so glad that I am still a work in progress and God hasnt given up on me yet. I am weak and faulty, I fail and I fall. I even cause others to fall.  Most desperately, I need Him. and He is enough for me,

 and for my family.

A Firstborn Through and Through.

Last Friday, I graduated with a masters degree in health science education through the University of Sydney (Australia). Due to financial constraints, we decided to fly up  to Sydney and back on the same day leaving at 6am and returning home at 11pm. I wanted to take my whole family, kids included, hoping they would catch a glimpse of what it is to achieve something important. They've had to put up with mummy's  intermittant assignmentitus, for the last four years. I also invited my mum, who lives in Queensland, to the ceremony. She too, decided to fly in and out on the same day. It would be a short ceremony at 9.30 am,  then a nice celebratory lunch and finally some sightseeing in the afternoon before heading home. Anyway the logistics were tight ! As families go,we are seasoned travellers and managed well.  We got to the uni in time, but parking was a little difficult and in the rush I left my purse, camera and baby bag in the car, causeing some angst but nothing I couldnt cope with. I recieved my award, we got  to see the Opera House and  mum caught her flight home without any problems.

As a true firstborn, I planned and executed the day effectively. I am academically driven, yet it wasnt always so. In  high school, I fluffed about, unsure of what I wanted to do and who I wanted to become. Friendships and fears drove my decisions back then.  But somewhere, in the midst of college years, I learnt the value  of life and time management. I like to achieve and show off my achievements.  I am event orientated. I like to write out goals and plan the steps to achieving those goals. Before this trip, I talked and planned and replayed in my head how this journey would transpire. It was great to plan. I hardly slept the night before we left, I was so excited.
                      

Before I married, I'd plan my new years resolutions, setting a list of 10 goals for the year, endeavouring to meet most of them . Id  hang the list of goals somewhere obvious i.e. on the wall beside the phone, on the fridge, on the toilet door or in my bible. Somewhere Id see them often, and ponder on them. I achieved a lot.
Then I married an atypical firstborn, unfamiliar with goal setting and list making, although administratively skilled. Achievements were viewed with a relaxed timelessness, and although important, were not structured  or planned for.  Where I  walked a straight line of  vision, goals, objectives and steps, my husband, ever the adventurer, would make his own curvey line all over the place, bouncing each achievement off another in any random direction. In my first few years of marriage, I encountered internal distress, as I struggled to write goals... my singular goals, but I was part of a couple now. I wanted to set fime frames and steps, restricting and restraining the adventurousness of  married life. In these years we achieved together, a house, 2 children, a job, church roles and friendships.  Eventually I came to a place of acceptance of the unpredictability of life and people. Although I still have some basic fundamental vectors in my life, my need for a 10 point list at the begining of each year is gone.  Walking towards an internal vision of my future,  I dont need to display goals on the wall to remind me. Its written on my heart and in my mind. Im  learning the art of bouncing off achievements, and being comforatble in not having to know exactly how and when and where the future leads. I am learning.

SO when our flights were cancelled at 10pm in Sydney, after our well executed day, I had one of those learning moments... We needed to find a motel, find transport, manage 3 sleepy tired children with  no nappies left, no clean clothes and arrange flights for the following day. I gingerly held it together and with some assistance from Avis rental girls  and some  quick prayers, we found ourselves in a luxurious motel, 5 mins from the airport, and looking at a second day of sightseeing before a late flight out. Its funny how things like that throw you. The second day was unplanned, heavy footed, hard to get moving, and bogged in grumpiness. Out of my comfort zone of control, I didnt enjoy it The kids ran a muck, unsure of what was happening next. I tried to make plans, butting heads with my hubby.  After brunch at 11am, we headed to the city, and spent 2 hrs sightseeing, before going to the airport. I didnt enjoy what could have been a good second day. What should have been a lovely, relaxed time with family was a stressful, tiring event.  Such a waste of an opportunity...something firstborns hate. So whats the message in this experience?   Well Im still learning. Its hard to change a firstborns tendancy. Its hard to change what is innate. We control and manipulate our surroundings  effectively to achieve the very best.  Firstborns can present in very different forms, and manifest that control in many varied ways. But this need to achieve, and know what is happening is common to all number ones. Its that natural leadership tendancy. It has alot of positive attributes but also has its negatives. Anyway  I look forward to planning how to be more flexible and enjoy the moments of adventurousness in marriage, family and  lifes achievements. If you are a first born, or know more about their specific characteristics, please feel free to shed some more light on this subject through the  comments.

The Power of a Flower

My roses are blooming in droves. So much so, that the climbing rose bush along my side fence has become too heavy for the trellis that it has been attached to. It became dislodged in a recent storm, and now boughs bow towards the ground. Every time I look out my kitchen window I see it bobbing there, ladened with beautiful thick peachy cream roses. Ive been putting off  the repair though, because of another set of flowers...wattle trees flowers. 
When we built our place some seven years ago, we built against the edge of a small michal (a little stream). The council in their wisdom pathed a walkway between the michal and our property, where people frequently  take their daily walks. The owner of the land the michal runs on,  arranged for the planting of many native trees and shrubs along side of the pathway and against our fence.  At the time, I took little notice simply appreciating the thought that one day we'd have some lovely trees beside our fence line, giving extra privacy and adding to the beauty of the area. All for free. One of the predominant trees that were planted, were wattle trees. Unfortunately, it took the unpleasant experience of the first full bloom, to realise I have an allergy to wattle... not all wattle as I have two small wattle bushes in my front yard that flower earlier in the year , that smell great and cause no worry at all. But these large six metre high trees are different. I am surrounded by over thirty trees within 500m of my house. The little michal runs right through this windy avenue of wattle trees that shed wattle flowers whenever the wind blows. A blanket of golden flowers cover everything in our vacinty. I am almost housebound from September to November.
After three seasons of pretty awful allergic rhinitis and conjuntivitis using every available antihistamine, I went to my Dr to ask for allergy desensitisation... but I was also early into my latest pregnancy. I was told Id have to wait until I finished pregnancy & breastfeeding. So here I am, in the fifth year of allergies, managing just, by avoiding the flowers that smell delightful and waft through my house every time a window or door is open. Just the simple act of hanging out the washing, or walking to the car causes burning in the eyes, sneezes, runny nose and agony.  SOooooo my roses have to wait to be reestablished until the wattle bloom is over.  The power of the flower.

Waiting is hard . Life brings us many seasons of waiting. I had to wait till I completed my uni degree, before I could get a job as a nurse. For years I had to wait for a husband. I remember begging God to find me 'my man'.  If someone had told me he lived in Melbourne, and I would literally leave everything I  knew to follow him, I probably wouldn't have believed them. I had years of waiting to find out if I'd be able to have kids, suffering from two  conditions that increased infertility. If someone had told me Id have be pregnant four times in 8 years, I wouldnt have believed them either.  Ive just completed four long years of a masters degree in health science education, studying through distance ed at the university of Sydney, whilst raising a family, having a baby, and holding down a job.  If someone had said, 'youll thrive on self directed learning and manage to get high distinctions in your course', I would have said they were crazy. Ive spent a lot of time waiting in my life yet Ive seen the answer to many prayers, and the fulfilment of many dreams. I am learning that waiting is apart of the journey. In fact its the largest part of the journey and the best part of the journey. Currently I am waiting to see how God wants to use my midwifery skills and education in the area of missions.  I am waiting for words and direction, for clarity and a place, for children to grow to a suitable age, for opportunity to travel, for finance and all that needs to be in place before a mission can be established. Excited, I dont hate the waiting. I am almost enjoying it.  I can't wait, and I can. Waiting is a good thing. And so, the roses can wait til the wattle blooms are over, and I can wait til it's the right time. Because the right time is the best time  and its worth the wait.

i start here

So I have entered the world of blogs.Ive been watching and reading other peoples life records for a while now and have found them absolutely challenging and enthralling. But I guess the big question is, will anyone read mine and does it really matter to me if no one does. Is my self confidence and self assurance stable enough to cope, if I fail to enthral others? I hope so. I hope I am mature enough and strong enough to know that my life aint all that important in the great scheme of things, yet it has its own story and its own value.

Im walking in the overflow of Gods daily, hourly, and minutely blessings. I am priveledged to be on this earth, to be blessed with a deep, wise and kind husband, who chose me to love, and three gorgeous, quirky children, who I thoroughly adore. I have a sound mind, a wacky sense of basic humour, a love of life, and people. I am a nurse and a midwife, and thrive on sharing the most intimate experiences of a woman's life as she walks into motherhood and all the joy and pain that brings. I love to talk, gladly born with a gift of the gab. I love to teach and sound like I know something important, even when its obvious I may not, because like you, Im on a journey of knowing too. So heres to my starting a blog space. LOrd bless it, and every person who comes across it.