tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87772928658995753402024-02-22T06:39:09.541-06:00our peepsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger243125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-15046220512915106022010-08-30T13:45:00.005-05:002010-08-30T13:56:56.014-05:00Our Little Rah<div style="text-align: left;">Those who know me, know I would never have been caught carrying pompoms, shouting chants or cheering on the sideline. I was the one in the stands wearing the school colors, starting the "wave" with the crowds and spraying cans of silly string throughout the bleachers. However, Megan has definitely turned out to be the cheerleader of the family thus far!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>With the lack of anything better to do this summer, Megan decided to try out for the junior tackle football league cheer squad in May. It was either that, or mom and dad were going to make her join swim team. We had made it a family rule that everyone find something productive to do this summer. To our surprise, as she has never had any past cheer experience, Meg made the squad and spent the warm months of vacation learning cheers, stunts and poise. And, she absolutely loves it!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>We are all enjoying spending Saturday afternoons watching Megan and her friends cheer on the Rochelle Hubs 6th grade football team. It's been a great way to spend sunny afternoons. More than anything, it's been great to watch our little girl enjoying something as much as she does.</div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj06fzM8p3R4tOkhZXcc3vHtyQYYn6gd6ZxgfG7CM298B0h2pNteZt1sBpAGTXyI7DDN9SeAP28rcZkR8kGiAG8qR8aR8NM2qMChXBUXh0CSLpbur186JbqJCLUE4Qj3uLfRDQpZQEOaEU/s320/meg2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511277984852520002" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8-HMUQVaoN3gTpUtEOfzdBj8t-IuKWKVFAwE9s2Hq5VVUD71__8sNrD7I4v82qtmt1x8tSLUcCmfiasrcff3_XXxvHf4DPzHRxx8cV9TDWWi0MmL-mYRL3A5ypMxR32oQKfwNYoZohds/s320/meg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511277758135606338" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzfDDtyLHNAeRd0vP87hJAYpp8_UkgI2o_ON9IlXWxYSfbgrOI_ilY6zIviBlUWYHyuduGZa-ydWOvrTJa8q6_px8zXLNJTXxJmdkiVwzJEunc-WaZs_BDyMi1H5qQEH5sA3atEzbgJ5Q/s320/The+squad.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511278110897127554" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-7243880584350330102010-08-26T20:56:00.007-05:002010-08-26T21:12:47.406-05:00Blogging Through the Whirlwind<div style="text-align: left;">I'm back to blogging. Why? '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Cuz</span> I need to. '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Cuz</span> I want to. '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Cuz</span> I should. I need to be celebrating all the blessings in our lives. I want to have a record of all the milestones our family achieves and all the fun that happens. I should be doing this so my kids have something to look back on and for others to see what's happening in our lives now.</div><div><br /></div><div>The past 7 months have been a whirlwind in slow motion. When the boys arrived home unexpectedly while Mike and I tried to help manage relief efforts for Three Angels, life was crazy. In so many ways it seems as if days before me were wild and out of my control. There were so many kids in our house and I was just trying to hold it all together. Yet, on the other hand, time seemed to stand still as we tried to help our dear loved ones down in Haiti live an unimaginable nightmare through the effects of the earthquake.</div><div><br /></div><div>Seven months later, I can say life has drastically slowed down. The boys are settled into routines, and we all have adjusted to our roles in our new family. We had an incredibly fun summer swimming, playing and getting to know one another better. Now that school is back in session, we are in the swing of busy schedules, but schedules nonetheless. It has been pure joy having our family together as we run through this whirlwind of a life.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was so wonderful seeing the kids together on the first day of school. It was surreal watching ALL FIVE preparing for such an exciting day. Even more exciting was the fact that I could watch this all happen today; not two years down the road. Our Haitian sons were here with us getting ready for school with their brother and sisters. God has truly blessed us! I am so grateful He brought our boys home to live this wild and crazy whirlwind of a life I am gonna blog about!</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhSPm4JB9ENHtbN0ZY8OG7ZlZpHAFHDULDnVkzBeNehI9aMModHHPqYDfYEUixjJlzhJGhXXRYOTumQgWAAG4MN9wyRgJ-B2DrfpwZPa_Nhg8mZASpy50TTutdGTPhFu9BXQzVG-aFRf4/s320/IMG_0681.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509905342909794658" /><div style="text-align: center;">First Day of School ~ August 17, 2010</div><div style="text-align: center;">Tim (7<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">th</span> grade), Megan (6<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">th</span> grade), Kate (3rd grade), Daniel (kindergarten) and Jonathan (preschool)</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-85919211303761735602010-03-18T00:32:00.005-05:002010-03-18T00:38:43.756-05:00"Ditto..." To the Title Below...<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 51, 102); font-weight: bold; font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-503543_162-20000571-503543.html?tag=contentMain;contentBody" style="text-decoration: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">H</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">aiti Still Suffers When Cameras Are Gone</span></span></span></a></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(0, 51, 102); font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif;font-size:14px;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:'trebuchet ms', 'Times New Roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">by Bill Whitaker</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', 'Times New Roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The cameras are gone; Haiti is off the front pages. Now two months later, it's possible for those who experienced the magnitude 7.0 earthquake through the media to think of the devastation and the humanitarian crisis that followed in the past tense. Chile and health care and</span></span></span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUq6kIfp9Lf_JRGVBT7xGmnb3FFT8zx9uRz4YB3knlhHXeR1EwKl0qgNYR7Ye3QxWN3YrJRefg47QKljbgEHpe2QiBTrFWBccnTAKzVcPppBSM3Um7l2BV34sSGqh0l5IdVkAcCU2O0g/s400/image6295855x.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449611810785753842" style="text-align: justify;border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 370px; height: 278px; " /><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:'trebuchet ms', 'Times New Roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">unemployment demand our attention. For the people of Haiti, however, the crisis continues — a constant, inescapable, overwhelming reality.</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', 'Times New Roman', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I was in Haiti for a month, arriving one week after the quake. The first week I spent in shock. I had lived through the Northridge quake that rocked Los Angeles in 1984. That was horrible. But nothing prepared me for the horror I encountered in Port-au-Prince.</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Block after block after block was leveled. So many people in that impoverished Caribbean country had little to begin with. The earthquake left hundreds of thousands with nothing but their faith and their spirit.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I saw that faith and spirit in abundance. My CBS News crew and I met a middle-class woman, Madame Yolene Bartroni, whose house was the only one in her poor neighborhood still standing — cracked and unlivable, but standing. She opened the gates of her property to neighbors. More than 100 children, women and men joined Madame Bartroni and her family sleeping under makeshift tents in the yard.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Two weeks after the quake, no aid agencies had made it to her part of Port-au-Prince. So, with her salary as a hotel receptionist (she was one of the lucky Haitians still to have a job), she bought water and food and medicine and diapers. When she ran out of money, she tapped her family in the U.S., which used social networks to gather donations. Grateful neighbors say were it not for Madame Bartroni they'd be homeless and hungry in the streets. Holding back tears, Madame Bartroni told us they struggle to live day to day.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We saw that kind of giving every single day. People who had little sharing with those who had nothing.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It would have been understandable if Haitians had cursed their fate, but we witnessed just the opposite. Haitians are people of deep faith.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">They marked the one month anniversary of the quake with prayer services all over the city. You could barely drive a block without seeing worshipers spilling out of the churches that were still standing or a congregation gathered where churches once stood.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Hymns filled the air. Hundreds of thousands of people gathered on the boulevards that surrounded the collapsed presidential palace, an ornate white structure that now resembles a melted wedding cake — hundreds of thousands solemnly praying for those who had died and joyously thankful for having survived.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When the minister called for five minutes of silence, the only sounds heard were quiet, heart-wrenching sobs here and there in the crowd. It was a powerful moment.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">With the rainy season approaching and one million homeless people living in squalid tent cities, Haitians need all the faith and spirit they can muster. Proud and resilient as they are, they cannot get back up on their feet by themselves. They desperately need the helping hand the world extended immediately after the quake. Haitians wish they had the luxury of referring to this tragedy in the past tense. They need the world to remember it is their present and their future.</span></div></span></span></span></div></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-45980462908549576112010-03-16T21:24:00.002-05:002010-03-16T21:30:31.361-05:00Why We Serve and Will Continue to Serve...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikV_7qSbTkPzNn708OaavK1dusI3KJuDz2wPkqawrJ_8OX6K-2NkV8nN5f30r5NGMmqgCb_Nn6MNnJcVAH3USIBgsrPG8T7DLR-je8Einy0_KxuApFy8GRYdHO20XGV0QVtkjMGAyu3xo/s1600-h/19046_280915351765_691226765_3952406_4465217_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikV_7qSbTkPzNn708OaavK1dusI3KJuDz2wPkqawrJ_8OX6K-2NkV8nN5f30r5NGMmqgCb_Nn6MNnJcVAH3USIBgsrPG8T7DLR-je8Einy0_KxuApFy8GRYdHO20XGV0QVtkjMGAyu3xo/s320/19046_280915351765_691226765_3952406_4465217_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449424379072670146" /></a><br />I am so saddened by the story in the post linked below. Although I am not a bit surprised, I really hoped for something better to come out of Haiti's government after the earthquake.<div><br /></div><div>The Haitian people need help. They need our help. Their own government does not care. So we must care. We will care. And, we will continue to serve there. We will continue to serve the people of Haiti. We will continue to serve and pray others will serve, too.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">http://barbieboots.blogspot.com/2010/03/injustice.html</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-35223337428981897552010-03-02T20:53:00.002-06:002010-03-02T20:55:20.504-06:00Are You Listening?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:monospace, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre; "><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This brought tears to everyone in our house. There are no words to express the feelings we have for our dear loved ones in Haiti. They are all in our prayers each and every day!</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/15x4nllJjpg&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/15x4nllJjpg&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-66779819050346822692010-02-07T22:48:00.007-06:002010-02-08T00:04:46.530-06:00Fundraiser<div style="text-align: left;">Our peeps have decided to do a fundraiser for earthquake relief work in Haiti. If you are interested in purchasing one of these t-shirts, please let me know. The entire cost of each shirt will go directly to Three Angels' rebuilding during this devastating time in Haiti.</div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-d6NoLgsqd8diDk5htgPVYpUcrTCwQiWbnyZB-sdOOZtEdp3K0KQc1vWaMt2VQ5RMAYgrDV_UzPtn3Oe5xyaRMH12gc0b18JwkcaXR8v6Fz7UTDW4ND4R5R7kkQm_6f7bqjQQO8el-0/s320/IMG_0168_2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435731296280305410" /><div>All shirts are $20 and checks can be made out to Three Angels Children's Relief. Once I have your order via email at <a href="http://www.blogger.com/colmonfils@threeangelshaiti.org">colleen@threeangelshait.org</a>, I will let you know how to proceed with payment and shipping.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you for supporting earthquake relief efforts in Haiti through the mission/orphaange where our boys lived for over two years. As we continue to volunteer on the board of directors at Three Angels, please know every donation and supply given will go directly to the people of Haiti.<div><br /></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-7230976054012799602010-02-06T11:59:00.005-06:002010-02-06T12:20:18.096-06:00Update #1<div style="text-align: left;">Most recently, I have had requests to update our family blog. It has been very busy here and finding the time has been near impossible. However, I am going to do my best to find the time. So many of of faithful readers, friends and family members deserve the updates. So much is happening around here and so many of you have supported us through it all. It is only right to keep you in the loop of the wild and exciting stuff going on in our lives right now.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, here I go - update #1 for you...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>...Our Haitian sons are home! Yes, that is right! Daniel and Jonathan arrived in the United States on Monday, January 18th. They, along with the other 24 orphans of Three Angels Children's Relief, were granted refugee parole visas following the devastating earthquake in Haiti. After picking the boys up in Ft. Pierce, Florida, we flew home to begin our life together as a forever family. It was a whirlwind of a few days full of excitement and craziness. We are settling into routines and getting to know one another. Life is so good and we are so, so blessed!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>So much has happened in the last three weeks. There is so much to share. I am going to begin to work my way backwards sharing with you the events which took place to bring our boys into our home. I am going to do share with you what is going on in our lives today. There is a lot to share. For now, check out the Monfils peeps, united forever!</div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9tqDKD_dU_sdRkLvtXF9A7fMoDZdkKjo_UVuFWyQ4RYaLKDlAUyPpfWDj5AJa_uUzpcXUZB2uaTdOlDktKUjtFEw9PqQBgJtyZ-_s2hWvwSYWALrqlHhrprR6SEky39MaQslRIfNIzV4/s320/IMG_0142.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435196390787201106" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-81141352639915307882009-10-29T15:26:00.006-05:002009-10-29T15:50:35.057-05:00Our Defensive Tackle<div style="text-align: justify;">A year ago, I was not so thrilled Tim wanted to play tackle football. Bones can be broken, ankles sprained and heads crushed in a sport like that. However, I knew I had to let him "try it out." I knew I had to let him see if he liked the sport.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Tim needed to learn for himself how demanding this commitment would be. He needed to see for himself how much personal time of his would be taken up by playing on the team. Every night practice, Saturday or Sunday afternoon games and no time for friends meant something completely new to Tim. Our son loved time with his friends. He loved doing whatever he wanted when he wanted. Being a part of a rigid athletic schedule which demanded 100% attendance was not something Tim was familiar with - not at all.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, we let our boy try it out. We signed him up for junior tackle football here in town. Even though Tim was the least beat mean, aggressive or tough, we let him give it a go...</div><div><div><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifuk3zxKxhN1RiLYPih7FvD-bH1nfwxmGqgKPTa2HJZ6AIKAlSNmfz0hedt4-Gt3kMUL2dF1l5sQiShP_SereMBT6WuFR40S78HNbY1vy-v1kkUKWSL-ULz0jLXRpu6BECp8dhxMJ304k/s320/IMG_9483.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398126133135574642" /><div style="text-align: justify;">The season ended with Tim getting awarded the "most improved player" of the season. He had a blast! From the moment football camp began in July until the end of the season mid-October, he loved every second of it! The drive, the will, the determination beamed through our boy as he learned the sport of football and became a starting lineman for the team.</div></div></div><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 225px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuYcvooyOJxrgjaCF1upQ6V7NNEVH3oLSD6pd2eTkueAlicMzMaqev9yHGlt3l4uRr_wYhDwfqkXXQBnLCENppW-XC1o__GAHz_WtTculxOIVC5ua1ckyJrmpxeitss1DB54ZSqS5jzmo/s320/IMG_9477.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398125662138597890" /><div style="text-align: justify;">We could not have been more proud of Tim's commitment to the football season, the team and the coaches. He stepped up and did what he needed to do to and enjoyed every second of it.</div><div><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0izVADEAs8mNtYe370AA0htOOSiEb_R6yXj9i8FOYHahM3Yrsvc_9r0uiSxmYg8nvyLxtx13J5uBQOMEF_scmxFlaB1znqTtcRXWb35MIHTHOyzgAqJHpf19VxJlfI9eXZBSEhPp33NQ/s320/IMG_9482.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398124224801496866" /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As fans of the sport, we had a great time, as well. The games were fun and we enjoyed cheering all the boys on throughout the season. Although I still cringe when Tim takes a hit, charges a tackle or twists a knee, it was so much fun to see our #80 play! We so look forward to next July and Hubs Football!</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv1kwTro3Hl8G_k8uU7-hmpK6IlAqGA_Fw2KcCG_bbbhEhiv9nHHSjoOrXeu6tUa9NgQu_T2qVGnI5Kpnofwo5MZ2Kdd1sQEGkECBSJNLEOifTgya0ipIQOJAcvxc9SnnHU8bOzVr6rGQ/s320/IMG_9494.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398126778053601138" style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-53526703751767131362009-10-21T00:05:00.008-05:002009-10-21T00:15:50.939-05:00Leaf Jumpin'<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Living on a 3 acre wooded lot means LOTS OF LEAVES this time of year! The kids get so excited when they see the change of colors. They know it means there will be an abundance of fallen leaves to rake into piles. Nothing is more fun than jumpin' into one of those piles!</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></span></span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpDfn6kO7XSf0CNT9XJaW8YGGzNMehE_GhI5-uNc4Y9rNjvPet91MD2H6qQ20nYsUjULj3YPLPcBSi9E3H7e3eYmJqwtqoUJsJQuPHbK7zXbwcqBlx8T3wxdqKd5t07JmQ4XnhmRsPWLY/s320/IMG_0708.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394916141717206914" /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cCcmXzpYilqq4tg1eNecrxfOZ9sXpL0vsLbeQ56B_Ab17EZGHnK7QkLxM47Y34Vt80zXq79CesP_q365MtYgl8UBFkHxulolxPH2ZCehEaY4aMv9TScI0W2cxNmYYx-fTlgHsHz22fs/s320/IMG_0711.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394916255913250466" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKb5Ih61B3e1Hf3V_VUAyuHc48Ylj50ilXto9_TuypYuj14qY_S5RxziK6uJFhK_6yKBRna5QJu2zE9Pea2Hj4uXXfQ-WzXLmEX_mtW80BZFFn4BRZ3pcw7wD1v1XAqbforFSGC9lRX7c/s320/IMG_0715.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394915917795358626" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJmCcmL-rADfoVkW3PVSZkVTZXbUZ0edEJToNZzECaIWhSENfucnIMJhZfSpH47XQhwdbJQfjHE7lE5pfVTs2GTVEaTEcfo9CgLFNcw_DguJwzv_ue_51Vpf9FUjCAVwxpIfFY9rT_S4/s1600-h/IMG_0713.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJmCcmL-rADfoVkW3PVSZkVTZXbUZ0edEJToNZzECaIWhSENfucnIMJhZfSpH47XQhwdbJQfjHE7lE5pfVTs2GTVEaTEcfo9CgLFNcw_DguJwzv_ue_51Vpf9FUjCAVwxpIfFY9rT_S4/s320/IMG_0713.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394916048220630706" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWW6hbvLDiQFnvTtjE95AGdd1LoZuGcEpUx4TLt6C4PMdSCJ5LiOKjwkqr8J0rVPxzLzpF4OemWfDO7z6W5T1rEPX4jIr7B4oEYzigFKJkQK18LddEnRMnPh7vsCNBhqICs4-JoSXvQ_g/s320/IMG_0710.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394916353314118882" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 246px; " /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cCcmXzpYilqq4tg1eNecrxfOZ9sXpL0vsLbeQ56B_Ab17EZGHnK7QkLxM47Y34Vt80zXq79CesP_q365MtYgl8UBFkHxulolxPH2ZCehEaY4aMv9TScI0W2cxNmYYx-fTlgHsHz22fs/s1600-h/IMG_0711.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cCcmXzpYilqq4tg1eNecrxfOZ9sXpL0vsLbeQ56B_Ab17EZGHnK7QkLxM47Y34Vt80zXq79CesP_q365MtYgl8UBFkHxulolxPH2ZCehEaY4aMv9TScI0W2cxNmYYx-fTlgHsHz22fs/s1600-h/IMG_0711.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cCcmXzpYilqq4tg1eNecrxfOZ9sXpL0vsLbeQ56B_Ab17EZGHnK7QkLxM47Y34Vt80zXq79CesP_q365MtYgl8UBFkHxulolxPH2ZCehEaY4aMv9TScI0W2cxNmYYx-fTlgHsHz22fs/s1600-h/IMG_0711.JPG"></a></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-28787617516948639712009-10-12T20:35:00.010-05:002009-10-12T21:33:08.811-05:00A Lil' Bit of Fall<div style="text-align: center;">Tim and Meg seemed to be over visiting the apple orchard and pumpkin patch - for now anyway. So, Mike and I ventured out with Kate to grab some apple cider donuts and caramel apples last Sunday. It was a beautiful day with sunshine and a cool breeze.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">At least our Katie is still "into" some of the fun fall traditions.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz0DWHVwhin3AL2haRFUMlwjnEAJxyjWFCP5potjDEppLKFJKmQEYw49w14LUpJj7iv2JN1gYLrb6lO9bSIZL3l52iHUngr6yxWizi__8hLpuD9FwdCogOOZA2-5VTGE_AJCArMvoHZhw/s400/IMG_9501.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391905447534223346" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh06NYyo325rOeWNu3QXY1gPN7JbjD2u-GLQNpWMYPwj0-pJjKVu1Dw-ZQtQ8y-9lmPdQ5QewWZM8jFaRAB_gtA1oWt0unBUUL72J5hR6l4EMVn8qYm07Tg7zcFOEIkLlV18WNC4XDLKUs/s1600-h/IMG_9502.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh06NYyo325rOeWNu3QXY1gPN7JbjD2u-GLQNpWMYPwj0-pJjKVu1Dw-ZQtQ8y-9lmPdQ5QewWZM8jFaRAB_gtA1oWt0unBUUL72J5hR6l4EMVn8qYm07Tg7zcFOEIkLlV18WNC4XDLKUs/s400/IMG_9502.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391906670072181090" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGJoAlJ_8FUTaLLCpoRlVyXIrFlgIirrwafeFv_sO3vYXQKFSNQVkqIxlPKVKO8wpfMfDBNa6YsmZBexcD0sOFV1MRLbM8NGFuyvUFAsK_M9R1e5Fz4UoFw5LaDmYTRI9BZ-i42pwxgbs/s1600-h/IMG_9504.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGJoAlJ_8FUTaLLCpoRlVyXIrFlgIirrwafeFv_sO3vYXQKFSNQVkqIxlPKVKO8wpfMfDBNa6YsmZBexcD0sOFV1MRLbM8NGFuyvUFAsK_M9R1e5Fz4UoFw5LaDmYTRI9BZ-i42pwxgbs/s400/IMG_9504.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391906304916015986" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOfl4S6angPunqiORnwFvWwHkuy_HMdDeI8Mq-7tF2Sr3ZY1ZxVzAyz_eI7w2zrbsFR-1wLAK6UZM_R7gnTkM8f4ShCxwrNnYJLZb254L_E0neBTCdNGvhcgJEPsBIO8sktmjRUnm3xGQ/s1600-h/IMG_9525.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOfl4S6angPunqiORnwFvWwHkuy_HMdDeI8Mq-7tF2Sr3ZY1ZxVzAyz_eI7w2zrbsFR-1wLAK6UZM_R7gnTkM8f4ShCxwrNnYJLZb254L_E0neBTCdNGvhcgJEPsBIO8sktmjRUnm3xGQ/s400/IMG_9525.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391904329945271314" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiccVgGB4uW6yoYMR94wS8KDd7tdA8CL47B3xdztunQGrc2eLnk0OAFz7tm4_oFAnYwzJmDe43c4uNq-i6WRqhQCEuFf-JewzTt9Fbszrohoz9nyviXKerm_xO-t0U_nKw51b7zJGTXULM/s1600-h/IMG_9512.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiccVgGB4uW6yoYMR94wS8KDd7tdA8CL47B3xdztunQGrc2eLnk0OAFz7tm4_oFAnYwzJmDe43c4uNq-i6WRqhQCEuFf-JewzTt9Fbszrohoz9nyviXKerm_xO-t0U_nKw51b7zJGTXULM/s400/IMG_9512.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391903694583899378" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWrubz1qrILmOO24Bxelf-0UinZ9Wxjdn0LTbJ9fxfeQhOQHwaP0yA1j5RxHJbIdDpwehxBnFxnaQWJrsiwx5WadLpE4sn7z-zjeNrmxxO8wWdttVYclFZckNuacEbF64tXdJJC_osxUM/s1600-h/IMG_9508.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWrubz1qrILmOO24Bxelf-0UinZ9Wxjdn0LTbJ9fxfeQhOQHwaP0yA1j5RxHJbIdDpwehxBnFxnaQWJrsiwx5WadLpE4sn7z-zjeNrmxxO8wWdttVYclFZckNuacEbF64tXdJJC_osxUM/s400/IMG_9508.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391892858480402354" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-9030299601181303182009-10-09T20:11:00.006-05:002009-10-09T20:19:34.443-05:00It's Over...<div align="center"><strong>Summer</strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390773160972235842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAM3SACnvmo0dUVrVKIA0UHKECjSiPgJbWSvzpiXuZ6j3hQl7KIOZ9LJ1zTQJg1QkduV_0jT9tE1IBuBYS6MIkPxRuGGM_uYCCSL_Be1UG0cTnZ2rV-yc0a5G6hpQORoguc4g7Ivqbu3Q/s400/IMG_0212.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><strong>Is </strong></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390774007452065442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 278px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOPoaHSio6zUzHw4hxyvARPXxMmKkaAh_sy0HqEHd1JceYY9j8SUcEK7il0AD1zVfSgxwpGoo9dhnvCxMlwwf1D2Dt1U2RfgaGS5P7cFOIjlMoDUNf-sFkIinI9K15UrJRUxOQyynjbw/s400/IMG_0215.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><strong>Definitely </strong></div><div align="center"> </div><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390773269140999090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnZ3eutfum1Pe4izkaxWT2CCDgiikNnzI74KE1rANcW3DMpNfNFdWvuK7JIity8fS3FjnreuEDwIZQDUEaSLS7fXY6LSnsEB6lmSrV3bOuGEMEB5FEDADKGX4qhhu0hNmwHuypKrV7KFY/s400/IMG_0221.jpg" border="0" /><br /></p><p align="center"><strong>Over!</strong></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390773474962244418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggAFVJyXhWbyV52O9FFhZ_UttlXxbppxkvbj1UPxvGQ9ln6Z2HnOD2hFk0UOUsSGF9_cGyq6-TY1TGVvl8qCT06J1RT-U_5NgAdWbViN9dAFUqFsitn6ifVeRQicIVCISK0J0fZH5ezUI/s400/IMG_0416.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><em><strong>Well, maybe not for Tim...</strong></em></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-58830915145258049572009-09-20T21:50:00.006-05:002009-10-21T09:14:32.494-05:00It Hurts<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjuTHiUMdqrTijAxZJ3l6V95s6Rhq3WDOSR1c7YrAmHMRwJq-901y_CitTQHhCRQD9t8PyKl_S-zhWvAjW23P2RsfJSp4GgnWeSnLKncC0RlXQc9GxvY11NFfjyyZsh1G-jbRlHabn8_4/s1600-h/Daniel%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383748378535808850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjuTHiUMdqrTijAxZJ3l6V95s6Rhq3WDOSR1c7YrAmHMRwJq-901y_CitTQHhCRQD9t8PyKl_S-zhWvAjW23P2RsfJSp4GgnWeSnLKncC0RlXQc9GxvY11NFfjyyZsh1G-jbRlHabn8_4/s400/Daniel%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">As I look through past posts, I notice our little Daniel is missing from many entries. As a mama, I feel bad. I feel as if I sort of neglect him. As if I favor the other children. It makes it look like maybe I love him less… None of this is true. As a matter of fact, Daniel has such a very special place in my heart ~ one which is difficult to share, but one that is so, so deep!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When I discovered my lack of writing about our sweet boy, I wanted to know what was keeping me from sharing about him, telling his story or asking my readers to pray for him, too? It was an easy answer to find but a harder one to share. It comes down to this ~ I miss Daniel more than I can possibly explain. More than I can possibly share. More than I truly want to admit. It hurts to miss him. It hurts to share it. And, it most certainly hurts to admit it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Daniel is such special little boy. He comes with a very special story most of us will never truly understand or comprehend. For a little boy in Haiti, his story is pretty typical. This fact does not make it any less sad.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was Daniel’s story that drew me to him. His story forced me to listen. When I listened, my heart cried. My heart cried and opened up. It opened up wide. As I held this little boy in my arms and heard his story, my heart broke. My heart broke for him. My heart broke because of his story. It was because of the story and the sweet little boy I knew I wanted to be his mama. I wanted to be his mama and help change his sad story into one full of happiness. I wanted to help write this sweet, little boy’s story. I wanted to add chapters to his story. I wanted to add good chapters – chapters of love, chapters of happiness, chapters of a forever family.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Daniel’s story is what makes me miss him. His story makes me miss him deeply! I am so ready to help write the next chapter of his life. I am ready to help make great changes and loving opportunities for such a special boy. I have been ready to do this for a very long time. I am ready.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It is not time for Daniel to come home to begin this new chapter. It will happen. It will happen when the time is right. I am truly okay with this. I am okay waiting. However, waiting does not make it hurt any less ~ especially if I think about it. If I think about all he could be doing, all I could be doing and all we could be doing together as a family - it hurts.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Daniel’s story will be a difficult one to turn around. However, I am ready to help turn it around. I am ready to hold him, rock him and hug him endlessly. I am ready to make him smile, make him laugh and make him happy. I am ready to tell him I love him every day; I am ready to make him feel loved every day. I want him to know he can be happy and feel this love every day. Wanting this hurts.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It hurts to think about all I can be giving Daniel if he were here. It hurts to think about all I want to give Daniel when he is here. It hurts thinking about his story and wanting to change how it plays out. It hurts thinking about when I learned about his story and what he went through. Since it hurts, I try not to think about it. I try to put it aside. I don’t think about it and I don’t worry. I try to remain positive. I think about all the wonderful opportunities and growing he is doing at the orphanage. I think about all the blessings he is receiving living at Angel House. I think about all the blessings we receive going through this adoption process.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I don’t write about Daniel often. I know why I do not write about him. I don’t write about him because I miss him. It is also okay to miss him. It is okay to want him home. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-39698303811046020822009-09-17T02:18:00.004-05:002009-09-17T02:21:19.351-05:00Keep Praying!Our prayers are working ~ Kate's tumor is shrinking. Please, please keep praying for this sweet little girl! <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382332963664954770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOv-iF_UdEbi04EEGrsLv1YHBOSzC98UrBP0I7cCo-3uA461UvY13e8xzPOdr3t6f0jCAdmhTWWaOepnjeWjYlCDFHtr-va5f5Oj9r2sfURNe4cLdz5O4eIBJLJjPu6PxwrwxBpvwun8/s400/m.RrpnyGOPRQOOibfw%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /> <div align="center"><a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/mcraekate">http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/mcraekate</a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-89810601812988477192009-09-16T11:34:00.002-05:002009-09-16T11:35:03.601-05:00Dude!<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYus9OzOHZb5UPEYXGQ2NF8Qsjkv8nja1m39vmWa0KhQUZxArmla3_iYX6J9AkNLPgbo4ipkhidN6Dnyui26_TkqsmEx94wpSVc-LpLlFWbBvFgvGcJ0F5k3mSoZfSB5HOhKJewKmJbgc/s1600-h/Jon+June+09+(1).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382104600518482066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 307px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYus9OzOHZb5UPEYXGQ2NF8Qsjkv8nja1m39vmWa0KhQUZxArmla3_iYX6J9AkNLPgbo4ipkhidN6Dnyui26_TkqsmEx94wpSVc-LpLlFWbBvFgvGcJ0F5k3mSoZfSB5HOhKJewKmJbgc/s400/Jon+June+09+(1).jpg" border="0" /></a> Happy 4th Birthday!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-80952508091842465542009-09-15T07:00:00.000-05:002009-09-15T09:00:03.917-05:00Disney WorldWe spent a week in Disney World in June. It was the kids first trip there. They had been to Disneyland, but never down to Florida's park. We had more than a fabulous time for 9 days. Fun, laughs and chillin' with Mickey. <br /><div style="visibility:visible;width:540px;margin:auto"><embed src="http://flash.picturetrail.com/pflicks/3/spflick.swf" quality="high" FlashVars="ql=2&src1=http://pic70.picturetrail.com/VOL1788/10214495/flicks/1/7562709" wmode="transparent" bgcolor="#000000" width="540" height="410" name="rotating_glass" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" style="height:410px;width:540px" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed><br /><p style="whitespace:no-wrap;margin-top:10px;height:24px;width:540px"><a href="http://www.picturetrail.com/misc/counter.fcgi?link=%2FphotoFlick%2Fsamples%2Fpflicks%3Dshtml&cID=924"><img align="left" src="http://pics.picturetrail.com/res/pflicks/pt.gif" border="0"></a><a href="http://www.picturetrail.com/misc/counter.fcgi?link=%2FphotoFlick%2Fsamples%2Fpflicks%3Dshtml&cID=925"><img align="left" style="margin-left:5px" src="http://pics.picturetrail.com/static/images/pt2.gif" border="0"></a></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-68553686315164094152009-09-14T17:16:00.011-05:002009-09-14T17:27:28.961-05:00Timbo * Timberoni * Timster * TJ * Timeika * Timerthy<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO-2u_5LUhrfLwxS6e8FfCR_UtjQC75EpXVDTKeTFvO1RAopbwMjlgQv0r9yeZ8pKTBiAq-aWP7KxjAUo4O2VZBc2F6hrzIw_5Nc2CD_nsi5GMvw2Kdfxfc6iVr2NjS1kQ5p6n16qElzw/s1600-h/IMG_9892.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381451927377288866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO-2u_5LUhrfLwxS6e8FfCR_UtjQC75EpXVDTKeTFvO1RAopbwMjlgQv0r9yeZ8pKTBiAq-aWP7KxjAUo4O2VZBc2F6hrzIw_5Nc2CD_nsi5GMvw2Kdfxfc6iVr2NjS1kQ5p6n16qElzw/s400/IMG_9892.jpg" border="0" /></a>He's a nut! I call him “Goober.” Cross between a geek and booger maybe? Not even sure where I got that nickname from, but it fits him perfectly.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381452214691065058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF_QDW3YvIEVAVzoGWGYVpkBsT4U6y4GdkY0ag_Y48lE_tSr2S1MBEoqSwY8si2sS9qbI9wTcPOdSn83kXXu81-CAC8KtWWo1F-R8joh1sPGv-Pq76Y8CmfilV-Osn7wogdyrvtZu6mgk/s400/IMG_9920+(1).jpg" border="0" />There are so many times in a day when he cracks me up. His jokes. His one-liners. His sarcasm. I just love his sense of humor.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381452401113420370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhla2mtmy_PwXUy7N9KqOZk2a2Nh6wpoldMKD-_WW_yUdDksyJSrToMwPbgFHQpjaU2FPsq1SUPCSaAEDQVce4tpLQ-DE3_J5YlCbegRFo5kPx6wfdSuTW3KtZHoHAY0i__icyZunsLlts/s400/IMG_9971.jpg" border="0" />The past few months have been so much fun! I am truly enjoying the “kid” my son is turning into to right now. He laughs, he jokes, and he enjoys life. He is out to have a good time and wants to have fun. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381451199141992610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_UJyv-wSZrglOOkSiOhIELxlFCIATVHzcHaZwcWmEwMCwfZcrkL-LqcQoopGLhO9Qhep5Ox3MCDJyu-YMPrgWXOt1FIgL4EZ7x39on_Kis2JHevAyThsbItQXtu1OJwBp7JKoeNpp7s/s400/IMG_0006+(1).jpg" border="0" />I have always thought Tim was a pretty cool kid. He has a very caring and loving side to him. He loves his family and admires his friends. He takes pride in what he does and wants to succeed. He wants to know what’s going on in the world and loves to learn. He has a very strong faith and cares deeply about God. All around, he is a terrific person.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381451475731779618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 339px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglHv_bcc7FDbUKfvCg6CmvUWJ_yoSoYWjneZhN4ENVZMxWccoM2yAEkoXLAzzFQebdFERelDkCH8zWadBARQqPg1qi1weOGTv7SBjvZGaK9HEhuAlmBFiyjZaY0hk15gmE3Z_E4rRg4uM/s400/IMG_0334+(1).jpg" border="0" />Tim makes my heart swell. His admiration for life, his sensitivity towards others and his high standards brought upon by his belief in the Lord’s Word. I love him more each day. I couldn’t be more proud of him today! <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381451693724412114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoYrtNc8I0te0bky0KYTsmPqX0ED_K-uliWrfLnm1zeYU_JyE8TkqYYbwE6koAoHDnPdNsvEG97nwevKtUbrxFC1h6bIunT8ih9JxMW1YeYYLJZNVckOWr_m3zCdUQz188eQvoM0ySpvQ/s400/IMG_8252+(1).jpg" border="0" /><br />I am having a blast being his mom. He makes it easy. He makes it fun. He is such a Goober!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-49824628950383980582009-09-13T22:42:00.015-05:002009-09-13T23:12:35.680-05:00Two Years Ago<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdaXYl80uDsi9Ubqa6cKermVCh6XSnQRPBKlBXzCW0wWUDuwueM21PMoOjPvp3YxcemWoiCHn7O5eCz16_0Z9C7Z_OVOD1lzoi9ZSLNDU_dRHZBdaRF8iDIiAEzpy3gr3xPJRCxYatHu0/s1600-h/n503579092_140426_565%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381169969230280418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdaXYl80uDsi9Ubqa6cKermVCh6XSnQRPBKlBXzCW0wWUDuwueM21PMoOjPvp3YxcemWoiCHn7O5eCz16_0Z9C7Z_OVOD1lzoi9ZSLNDU_dRHZBdaRF8iDIiAEzpy3gr3xPJRCxYatHu0/s400/n503579092_140426_565%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div>Two years ago we took a big leap of faith. We heard a calling from the Lord, and we answered it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mike and I committed to this calling. We committed to adopt Jonathan. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>So much has happened in the past two years. Our lives have forever changed.</div><br /><div>We pray each day for Jonathan's health. We pray for his orphanage and caregivers.</div><div>.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Thank you, Lord, for calling us. Thank you for hearing our prayers. </div><br /><div>We praise You, God, for placing Jonathan in our lives. We praise You for forever changing us two years ago.</div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381169772013556194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho1XD4ARW-RvFb7voyv54vLHqoc08jIcKKFIZPFPP3CZbfl9qO-XuUWjWFOzYbScseStUVJP-VTQ-IKkdYK9veBgPO1FV7w91XhSLYUj0CkkYGc-Ggm0Xi28P_x_QcDOrlxXgBfXN8Q3w/s400/IMG_0317.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-42549716504284814162009-09-11T14:39:00.011-05:002009-09-11T23:57:25.666-05:00"So...Um..."<div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">"I'll trade ya this mango for a new Extract?!?!"</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380298147250118258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8jeKFjBNrWjL2Pf-OzbizXkxJ7fBw_YBGCHFpqSLVKyYDSSF0hdprwX1aqKhQgxFyGe3GeOuGlIRrWbg3OljQRAQdYVcTWRNNsf-YMJh-A9aIc2uHF1R1UA8_5KxGiYxQcNIgBV81eY4/s400/4242_1105161842792_1639147961_235872_7071814_n%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" />Seems Jonathan is need of a new Extract for his adoption file. In non-adoption terms, he needs a new birth certificate with the official seal. Prior to last year, Haiti did not require authenticated certificates. Now they do and Jonathan needs one. This could take quite a few months to achieve at this point.<br /><br />So, here we wait. We wait for Jonathan's new birth certificate to be issued. We wait to move forward in the adoption process. We wait for approval in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">IBESR</span> (Haitian Social Services.) We wait a little longer before we can bring the boys home. We wait and we pray.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">Lord, as we try to be patient and wait for Your timing with the adoption, we pray asking You to please provide so the boys are taken care of and Jonathan remains well while they live at Angel House Orphanage. In Your son's name, Amen</span></em>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-33183483513888041832009-07-31T11:18:00.012-05:002009-07-31T11:41:56.547-05:00The Pure Light of God's Sweet Love<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8gIyCq2YaiWML9QSHlJ38OhtXzG-EJvVHmsY_uIwA2Mm2liKuDS0a7sM9dymju81GP5cWhA_W8ZfbrgmM4DxP6xV7l5kxcsCkBXhyphenhyphenIEV_g6x6HgKeIu0P2bgRLzKvjVZ6QNse87fT08/s1600-h/f47b2fa0d78bd3f2%5B1%5D.jpg"><span style="color:#cc0000;"><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364662622190553074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 145px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 108px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8gIyCq2YaiWML9QSHlJ38OhtXzG-EJvVHmsY_uIwA2Mm2liKuDS0a7sM9dymju81GP5cWhA_W8ZfbrgmM4DxP6xV7l5kxcsCkBXhyphenhyphenIEV_g6x6HgKeIu0P2bgRLzKvjVZ6QNse87fT08/s400/f47b2fa0d78bd3f2%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></em></span></a> <div><span style="color:#cc0000;"><em></em></span></div><div><span style="color:#cc0000;"><em></em></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#cc0000;"><em>I received this via email from a friend - thank you, Jody. It really touched my heart. It made me think of all the Haitian people I have come to know. It made me think about those who criticize my desire to serve in a third world country.</em></span> </span></div><div><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#cc0000;">I am so blessed to have had the opportunities to meet and get to know many of God's people. I am even more blessed to be able to know His sw</span><span style="color:#cc0000;">eet love for each of them! I pray I can also express this pure love to others each and every day.</span></span></em></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><strong>Breakfast at McDonald's<br /></strong></div><div><br /></div><div>I am a mother of three and have recently completed my college degree. The last class I had to take was Sociology. The teacher was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every human being had bee n graced with. Her last project of the term was called, 'Smile.' The class was asked to go out and smile at three people and document their reactions. I am a very friendly person and always smile at everyone and say hello anyway. So, I thought this would be a piece of cake, literally.</div><div>*</div><div></div><div></div><div>Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, and I went out to McDonald's one crisp March morning. It was just our way of sharing special playtime with our son.</div><div>*<br /></div><div>We were standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone around us began to back away, and then even my husband did. I did not move an inch...an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had moved. As I turned around I smelled a horrible 'dirty body' smell, and there standing behind me were two poor homeless men. As I looked down at the short gentleman, close to me, he was 'smiling'. His beautiful sky blue eyes were full of God's Light as he searched for acceptance... He said, 'Good day' as he counted the few coins he had been clutching. The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. I realized the second man was mentally challenged and the blue-eyed gentleman was his salvation. I held my tears as I stood there with them. </div><div>*<br /></div><div>The young lady at the counter asked him what they wanted. He said, 'Coffee is all Miss' because that was all they could afford. (If they wanted to sit in the restaurant and warm up, they had to buy something. He just wanted to be warm). </div><div>*</div><div>Then I really felt it - the compulsion was so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with the blue eyes. That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were set on me, judging my every action. I smiled and asked the young lady behind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray. </div><div>*</div><div>I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen as a resting spot. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the blue-eyed gentleman's cold hand. He looked up at me, with tears in his eyes, and said, 'Thank you.' </div><div>*</div><div>I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said, 'I did not do this for you... God is here working through me to give you hope.' I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son.<br />*<br />When I sat down my husband smiled at me and said, 'That is why God gave you to me, Honey, to give me hope.' We held hands for a moment and at that time, we knew that only because of the Grace that we had been given were we able to give. We are not churchgoers, but we are believers. That day showed me the<span style="color:#cc0000;"> pure Light of God's sweet love. </span></div><div>*<br /></div><div>I returned to college, on the last evening of class, with this story in hand. I turned in 'my project' and the instructor read it. Then she looked up at me and said, 'Can I share this?' I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class. She began to read and that is when I knew that we as human beings and being part of God share this need to heal people and to be healed. In my own way I had touched the people at McDonald's, my son, the instructor, and every soul that shared the classroom on the last night </div><div>*<br /></div><div align="left">I spent as a college student. I graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever learn: </div><div><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong>UNCONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE.</strong></span> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-61386149815558908372009-07-06T23:03:00.008-05:002009-07-06T23:18:08.934-05:00With a Heavy Heart......I ask you to please pray for this little girl.<br /><br /><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyF9TxRiji4BzVHDFre_pm7LAPrcySXjTnupQ5nOw6HR-L9c6qNWDfGiWFiKgpql0W-s7njZety59hxZy5-RUei1C9-6wcjbl7gL3lvcWZdtFFm8LRX_FpuDFQshF6Aqjot08gzKYTIAQ/s1600-h/t_HKRyAxrXDZgzxJRZ.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355566811492394946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 100px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyF9TxRiji4BzVHDFre_pm7LAPrcySXjTnupQ5nOw6HR-L9c6qNWDfGiWFiKgpql0W-s7njZety59hxZy5-RUei1C9-6wcjbl7gL3lvcWZdtFFm8LRX_FpuDFQshF6Aqjot08gzKYTIAQ/s320/t_HKRyAxrXDZgzxJRZ.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">Kate<br /></span></div></strong><div align="center"><a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/mcraekate"><span style="color:#cc0000;">http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/mcraekate</span></a></div><div align="left"><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="left">Kate and her family have been on my mind since I first read their story and watched their video. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/v/ese3zYZ-NA4&hl=en&fs=1"><span style="color:#cc0000;">http://www.youtube.com/v/ese3zYZ-NA4&hl=en&fs=1</span></a></div><div align="left"><br />I cannot even imagine what they are going through. I do not even try to understand the pain they feel. I will never be able to comprehend the anguish they are experiencing.<br /><br />I am in awe of their faith in the Lord. I am humbled by their strength in Him. I am dedicated to praying for Kate. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-16802831723123115672009-06-30T22:36:00.010-05:002009-06-30T23:20:18.328-05:00At Bat With the Lord<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353335831063044882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBPH22jOaKrmc3MC-SX8XolW91dkBOSP3mT7fru2MW0MD-MI7uwm-ZSAZRX01wecWtHhsBdAi_TsYO8sduUig27Dgze8DhCKRE5E99RYHtvc_L3JnZNPFiJvnKuMl3wKmXGVO5VFmvP0M/s320/IMG_8078.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>What a night. It was the first game in the little league world series. We were down by 3 and Tim was up to bat. My stomach turned for him as he approached home plate. Tim had been in a slump for some time. Batting practice was always a success, but during games he would just freeze up. He said he couldn't get the thought of losing for his team our of his head. The pressure was too much and Tim would either strike out or walk every time. The ball had not met the bat during a game - not once in a very long time.</div><br /><div></div><div>During batting practice, Tim would hit pop flies, grounders and line drives. I would watch him bat, sometimes talking him through the pitch. I would make jokes, remind him to watch the ball or tell him to lighten up. It seemed to help.</div><br /><div>So, tonight when it was Tim's turn at bat, I decided to leave my usual place sitting in the outfield. I walked up behind home plate and gave my boy some of those reminders. His first swing was a miss, so I told him to relax. Stepping out of the batters box, he turned and smiled - letting me know he knew I was there. After two balls and my cheers for watching the ball, there came the perfect pitch. Tim hit a line drive which bounced past the pitcher and over the second basemen. Finally, my boy was out of his batting slump. Finally, he hit the ball without worry.</div><br /><div>After the game, I asked Tim what was so different about this time at bat. He was relaxed and confident up at the plate - I asked him why and expected him to say the cheers were a good distraction, no outs on the board made him relaxed or it was one of the last games so he gave it his all. However, that wasn't it. He told me he was ready to hit the ball because he sat in the dugout and prayed about it. He asked God to ease his worry and allow him to relax up at bat. He prayed that he would just go out there and hit the ball.</div><br /><div></div><div>There I was thinking Tim was using some sort of strategic baseball technique or allowing the cheers from the stands to help him... When all along it was his faith in God and allowing himself to be led by the Lord. So, while Tim took the time to turn to the Lord in his time of need, I learned I should never sell my son short at bat, by the dugout or in his heart. </div><br /><div>Could a mom be any more proud of her son coming out of his hitting slump? </div><div> </div><div>~Great game tonight, Tim, and great batting!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-81119066057131106282009-06-16T22:49:00.007-05:002009-06-30T23:29:26.092-05:00Summer Camp '09<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUB-YyP6VWJklpdM8b5UPcrPMEH7arozhhrGTGeA8f_zeRoEAybv6aw4Edn94ZRRMvpP1jRye1FdTu175lqrmar5jy5UlN0mkxFNtNnHEtl1tiV9gQkFSaBvLeblyCOvuylFDLuf-SlQ/s1600-h/IMG_9241.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348146809787878658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUB-YyP6VWJklpdM8b5UPcrPMEH7arozhhrGTGeA8f_zeRoEAybv6aw4Edn94ZRRMvpP1jRye1FdTu175lqrmar5jy5UlN0mkxFNtNnHEtl1tiV9gQkFSaBvLeblyCOvuylFDLuf-SlQ/s320/IMG_9241.jpg" border="0" /></a>My boy is at camp this week. We dropped him off Sunday afternoon. We will see him Friday evening when we meet up with him at "family campfire." I love attending this event. After 6 days of missing my first born, 6 evenings at the dinner table with his place left empty, and 6 nights of tucking in the girls and walking past his dark bedroom, I am thrilled to see Tim from across the campfire.<br /><br /><div>And, yes, I go right up to my boy and give him a big, fat hug and kiss! It's the only time I get to without Tim telling me I am embarrassing him to death. </div><div> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-11466518261515364972009-05-29T16:54:00.002-05:002009-05-29T16:55:18.575-05:00A Ladies' Man<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2cNLaFbu7PXA2OPu-RxQsgnLPfmjUcgv10IUSpYFGioTJEGlbgw-uFrgo8xKixnAxN5q4STfNnnV7Fo-7Bv2cnQiXeT76SmiJhf3_QvQjpR32Tk6ZyjOdFK_o7tb6XUIiudSNXTaZf7o/s1600-h/3221_660795573519_30825959_38096248_7394422_n%5B1%5D+(1).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341367804968863378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2cNLaFbu7PXA2OPu-RxQsgnLPfmjUcgv10IUSpYFGioTJEGlbgw-uFrgo8xKixnAxN5q4STfNnnV7Fo-7Bv2cnQiXeT76SmiJhf3_QvQjpR32Tk6ZyjOdFK_o7tb6XUIiudSNXTaZf7o/s320/3221_660795573519_30825959_38096248_7394422_n%5B1%5D+(1).jpg" border="0" /></a> Oh, I think we are in for it with our handsome Haitian son...<br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-50711915725229213582009-05-04T13:37:00.008-05:002009-05-04T13:52:30.840-05:00GUESS WHAT???!???!!???!!??<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO3XLbgHG1pzCaDxpu1sUr3moLMv03CLmSCgLnICthYZtpjmYmGZwDLIFYWdhJd7uA4R_5QiFqpcGfOFth7zaUVaRyAGUrw5VbRCqkX8pDhD8xH_tP3mm7dXF2TYAfBHPznWAITS-NcSI/s1600-h/n503579092_1387873_3954%5B1%5D.jpg"></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUl5lpcKYrEdd_KURiwrEY6L53XoLVltrpSVexq9feoSbWj6EmYH1ZpCKiJpsjIup46OddgTlodsJ4CWaUXj9Db6NYRDkzUrf7EuA-vdHYdtR6lt2gz67VCPIK6CIe0rdT497lUcrikg/s1600-h/IMG_9819.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332042795843850370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUl5lpcKYrEdd_KURiwrEY6L53XoLVltrpSVexq9feoSbWj6EmYH1ZpCKiJpsjIup46OddgTlodsJ4CWaUXj9Db6NYRDkzUrf7EuA-vdHYdtR6lt2gz67VCPIK6CIe0rdT497lUcrikg/s320/IMG_9819.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>One year after Mama Colleen brought down all the papers for our adoption, our file is finally in IBESR!!! That means our adoption is officially filed here in Haiti. We can now pray asking Social Services to approve our file. </div><br /><div>It took a while for all the paperwork to be ready. Daniel had to be declared an orphan, have a birth certificate made and receive a Consent to Adopt filing from the mayor. All of that is now completed and Social Services will work on approving Mama Colleen and Papa Mike to adopt in Haiti. </div><div><br /> </div><div>Please pray with us everyday that our file will be approved and we can become part of the Monfils' family! </div><br /><div>Love,</div><div>Daniel and Jonathan</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8777292865899575340.post-57062977158402550842009-04-12T21:48:00.004-05:002009-04-12T21:51:15.983-05:00<span style="color:#cc0000;">Someone is enjoying having his picture taken lately....</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzF94Y1N4anLmwAeKocuXTcIDcFavDQE-MS5pQWXkB0i6MZOW70KRFFhfdnLCQbrK3H1fUNlSyzFg2xHPp1x7NJMXL6qE5JxjVjdYLLPgZgzor4BkmrXFjw8DKR4y4BbuOQ3dKmwJhIoE/s1600-h/P1120216%5B1%5D.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324002398211233394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzF94Y1N4anLmwAeKocuXTcIDcFavDQE-MS5pQWXkB0i6MZOW70KRFFhfdnLCQbrK3H1fUNlSyzFg2xHPp1x7NJMXL6qE5JxjVjdYLLPgZgzor4BkmrXFjw8DKR4y4BbuOQ3dKmwJhIoE/s400/P1120216%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /></a><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;">Thanks for the pic, Megan!</span></em><span style="color:#990000;"> </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2