tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87154020775124537222024-03-04T23:00:56.521-08:00Pondering BlissAmanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-4516924034961416352014-10-16T23:17:00.001-07:002014-10-16T23:17:37.039-07:00My Long Awaited Treasure<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This memoir is more
for me than anyone else. I want to remember the pain. I want to be able to
relive the uncertainty. I never want to forget what my life was like before I
had babies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we got married
that hot summer day in 2006, we had a 5 year plan. Adam was 22 and I was 23, we
had so much time! We wanted to see the world. We wanted to get to know each
other perfectly, we wanted some time to be "us" before adding to our
clan. We did all of that and more! We white water rafted in the Jamaican rain
forest. We traveled the world; seeing private beaches, smoking volcanoes,
poverty, castles, ruins, earthquake victims and sunken treasure. We traveled
over 2,000 miles across the USA to plant ourselves in a new home. We worked
side by side for years preaching the Gospel and loving teenagers. We worked
hard, we lived like tourists, we made the most of our time together. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a few years
(less than 5) of married life, we got the fever. You know, the baby fever. We
had a set month that we decided to get off birth control and start our next
adventure. Then we waited. A month, 6 months, a year seemed to fly by and no
Sullivan baby. I found myself getting anxious. I started working out more,
eating healthier and eliminating extra stress. It seemed like the more stress I
tried to eliminate, the more worried I became. Uncertainty overpowered me. It
became like the shackle that never let me drift too far away. After 2 years, I
knew something was wrong. I talked to my Dr and he gave me a couple referrals
within Endocrinology, but my insurance didn't cover "Infertility".
Oh, that word. It gave me shivers. It filled me with so much fear and so many
questions. So I kept waiting and kept praying. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another year flew
by. No baby for me. I found myself discouraged, frustrated, fearful and
jealous. Not a good combination. So many days I knelt before God asking Him for
direction. God was always faithful to give me peace in my distress. I wanted
answers, but I settled for peace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One night, on a road
trip from Austin, TX to San Diego, CA, Adam and I were finishing our trip in
silence. We were in the mountains and I was looking out the window at the
clear, beautiful stars. In a moment of haste, I quietly prayed, "God, if
your plan is to give us a family of our own one day, let me see a shooting
star." I immediately regretted testing God like that and scolded myself,
but as I looked out my car window, I saw something amazing! Not one, but 2
shooting stars! God promised me right then and there, that He had a plan and it
included the desires of my heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We changed jobs and
insurances and I was finally able to get some infertility help. After a surgery
(and 3 1/2 years of trying), I finally got a diagnosis. I had Endometriosis.
After looking at my case, my Dr said I had a 6-10% chance of ever conceiving on
my own. The odds were stacked. My mind reeled with the options. The Dr said my best bet
was In-Vitro and even then I only had a 60% chance of it working. On top of
that, In-Vitro was very expensive and she said I needed to hurry up because of
my age. What?! All of this made my head hurt. I took it to God. I remember
sitting in the front row of church one Sunday and asking God if now was the
time. I simply asked, "Should I move forward with infertility treatments
of some kind, or should I wait?" Immediately I heard Him say, "It's
not MY time." I was shocked. I don't know why, but it wasn't what I
expected to hear and more than that, it wasn't what I wanted to hear. If not
now, when? I was almost 30 and had been playing the waiting game for years. It
was an emotional couple of weeks, but I remembered the stars and I waited.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In fact I decided to
move on. If now wasn't the time, God would surely let me know when it was. New
and exciting things were happening in our lives, so I jumped into them with all
my energy. 6, 7, 8 months passed.</span></div>
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</span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One morning in May
it all changed. I hadn't been feeling quite right for a few days, but I thought
it had to do with the shady Mexican place our church staff ate at.
Begrudgingly, I picked up a pregnancy test. I had taken dozens of negative
tests over the previous 4 1/2 years, no reason to hope. They always let me
down. But this day was different. I took the test and waited once again. But
this time…a plus sign. A plus sign. I looked at the directions again to ensure
that a plus was indeed positive. I couldn't believe my eyes. All of those years
of waiting seemed to wash over me like an ocean wave. God's promise was real
and was appearing right before my eyes in the form of a plus sign on a tiny
stick that I just peed on. It was like the angels were singing the Hallelujah
chorus all around me while I stood in the bathroom by myself at 5am with
literal silence surrounding me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the coming
months, I fell in love with a fuzzy black and white image on an ultrasound
screen that never seemed to stop moving. On January 26th, my dream became a
reality as Amos Luke was born. My sunshine, my precious, the gift I wrote
to Santa for, my snuggle buddy and the greatest adventure of my life. My God is
good. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I guess the rest is
history. I'm laying here in my bed as I write, listening to the hum of the baby
monitor as my husband snores and my 8-month old sleeps soundly. I'm writing
this primarily for me. I want to remember my journey clearly and never take my
family for granted. However, I know how many women are out there living in the
uncertainty and grief that I once did. Mourning for the children they don't
have. I hope my story can inspire others, It inspires me everyday.
(Hebrews 11:1) "Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will
actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 Samuel
1:27,"I asked the Lord to give me this boy, and He has granted my
request."</span></div>
Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-36924123735427899812012-02-15T17:34:00.000-08:002012-02-15T17:37:27.339-08:00The Power of Unanswered Prayer<div align="center">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Life is like a box of chocolates...you never know what you're going to get."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Forrest Gump</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Last Saturday my family experienced a traumatic situation. My cousin, July, and her husband left their 3 kids with his parents for the day. Soon after they left, the grandparents realized they didn't see the youngest child, one-year-old Eastyn, and they found her at the bottom of their swimming pool. After pulling her out and calling 911, she was unresponsive for an hour and a half. News from the Doctor was quite grim. There were so many uncertainties. Would she live? Would there be permanent damage? Would she ever return to the same sweet Eastyn? At the very least, she would be in ICU on a respirator for a week. Family prayed, friends prayed, even strangers prayed for Eastyn and today, after only 5 days, not only is she out of ICU, she is home! A true miracle! God has received all the glory as</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">the Doctor</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">s and Nurses scratch their heads, glad she is ok.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Also today, I called my mom as I headed back to work after my lunch break and I could tell that something was not right. My mom's close friend, Steve, was remodeling my grandparents bathroom this afternoon, when he suffered from a heart attack. Steve didn't make it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">What just happened? Steve was relatively young. Could God not help Steve? Is He a God who is distant, never personal? No, I just saw Him miraculously touch Eastyn. Then, why not Steve, too??</span></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"In the end, unanswered prayer brings me face to face with the mystery that silenced Paul: the profound difference between my perspective and God’s." —Philip Yancey</span></strong> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't know why Eastyn was saved and Steve died, but I know the character of my loving Father. I know that God's timing is perfect and His perspective is clear. Eastyn's mercy does not make me question, but instead brings me peace. God could have miraclously stepped in and started Steve's heart this afternoon, but He didn't because He knows something that I don't. I trust God's love, His hand, and His silence. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Thank you, God, for being worthy of my trust.</span></div>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0Temecula, CA 92592, USA33.4380601 -117.008787733.2260561 -117.3246447 33.6500641 -116.6929307tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-87014250725198987112011-09-14T20:50:00.000-07:002011-09-14T20:51:12.881-07:00Remember The Blackout of 2011? Good Times.Last Thursday at 3:20pm all of our power went out. I immediatly noticed how quiet it was in my home. Soon the neighborhood was buzzing with reports that the electricity had gone out in all of San Diego County, Imperial County, parts of Arizona, New Mexico, old Mexico down to Ensenada, Orange County, and parts of Riverside County. This was a HUGE power outage. 5 million people were without power in one instant! The things I observed post-blackout were so interesting! First of all, I grew up having periodic blackouts because of Thunderstorms, so this wasn't completely foreign to me, however, 1. Things have changed a lot since I was a teenager. 2. There are never thunderstorms out here, so power outages are highly infrequent.<br />
It was hilarious to see people responding. It was 100 degrees outside, so people were just outside sitting in their cars to get air conditioning. The radio station asked people to call in if they knew gas stations that were open - not much luck on gas stations,but you know who was open? Casinos. They had enough generator power to have gas, food, ice, A/C and gambling. Hilarious. Adam and I had to run to the church around 7pm and what we saw was incredible. Families taking walks down Alpine Blvd together. Neighborhoods gathering outside visiting. Large groups of people BBQing together. It was awesome! And I love reading what several teenager wrote on their FB walls about how their night went. 15yr old Ashley said, " <span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">if the power didnt go out i wouldnt have met the ppl i met..so bam..it was a good time." A 14 yr old girl named Alyssa said, " <span class="commentBody" data-jsid="text">i never knew the people who lived next door until the power went out. we all played yahtzee. :)". I read so many posts about family time and great memories shared. At our home we had some of our students over for a candlelit game of Monopoly. It was a blast!</span></span><br />
Since then, everyone I know has talked about the blackout with fondness. Electricity is no doubt a wonderful thing, but in one night people all over SoCal realized what was really important - the people in our lives. No TV, lights, video games, few had internet, computer battery was limited, restaraunts, microwaves, electric stoves, the list could go on. Work was let out early, school was called off. Some entire apartment complexes had get togethers. Neighborhoods chatted together and families played in the dark. Most people went to bed early and got a good solid night's rest. It was a little Wall-e ish. It's funny how one mistake at a power plant in AZ could cause so many people to rethink what is important in their life!Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-57745653242321964412011-09-08T13:33:00.000-07:002011-09-10T10:57:39.710-07:00Goodbye, AlpineI should really be packing right now, but instead I'm listening to Pandora, enjoying some coffee and writing. I guess this could be considered packing. Packing up emotions, some memories, unpacking parts of myself that will always be left here in Alpine. In a couple of weeks, Adam and I will be moving away from Alpine. Often people call it "starting a new chapter", but are you ever really this sad about ending a chapter in a book? I don't know. Either way, we are closing up our time in Alpine with lots of hugs and tears. We've accepted a Youth/College Pastor position at another church in the SoCal District. There's plenty of excitement that comes with beginning something new, but right now I'm savoring in the memories of the past few years that we've spent at Bethel and the relationships we've built here.<br />
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I will never forget the long drive from Dallas to San Diego. We were so excited and had no idea what to expect from Southern California or from Youth Ministry. 3 and 1/2 years later, we couldn't have asked for a better Youth Group or Church to get us started in Youth Ministry. I've decided to make a list of things I will miss/special memories I've created. In no particular order:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPX63zPRkxi4yt5GavRYOyuVEJK0NutSjckwlYmubUWnOJFndAy5oxAGpYtWx1Nuub6BoZCa_hq_ZHplLQIRaa77_YHtN-TL8C3fBF2ifdwEMs2R28NflcsU8ykWvLpQ6Qb16rwhsH2hcW/s1600/205881_10150265453967734_521342733_7884264_5436101_n.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPX63zPRkxi4yt5GavRYOyuVEJK0NutSjckwlYmubUWnOJFndAy5oxAGpYtWx1Nuub6BoZCa_hq_ZHplLQIRaa77_YHtN-TL8C3fBF2ifdwEMs2R28NflcsU8ykWvLpQ6Qb16rwhsH2hcW/s200/205881_10150265453967734_521342733_7884264_5436101_n.jpg" /></a> </div>
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<li>I will miss living in the mountains. I live in a truly beautiful place. Huge boulders, Palms and Pines living harmoniously. After 3 years, I still note what a beautiful drive from Walmart to my home. I can count on 2 hands the number of thunderstorms we've had since I've lived here, but when it does thunder, the sound of it echoing off the mountains is magical.</li>
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<li>I'll miss the quiet small town feel of Alpine.</li>
<li>Panda Machi. I don't care what anyone says about Panda vs Ahi Sushi, I still think Panda Machi has the best sushi in Alpine. Maybe in SoCal. Maybe on Earth. When I visit Alpine in the future, I will be dining at Panda!</li>
<li>I will miss our students. Our kids. Past and present. I thank God that He has honored us by giving us the last few years with them. We've met some incredible teenagers and I love them. We've shed tears over death and divorce. We've walked through addictions, depression, impurities, and life in general. And they will always be our first youth group. The trial and error crowd. ;) (If anyone is wondering why this isn't further up on the list, I can assure you that I wasn't shedding tears over leaving Panda Machi.)</li>
<li>A couple months ago, I was at a graduation and I had the privalege of holding the baby of one of our former students during the ceremony. It allowed me to get a glimpse into the future of my ministry. I'm still young, but to hold the next generation of those we've begun a ministry to was very special. Thanks for that moment, Marielle.</li>
<li>Tapatios. Tapatios, you changed my mind about Mexican Cuisine. Marty, when you visit me, you better bring me a shrimp burrito! PS - My first shrimp burrito from Tapatios was brought to our door by Josh, Mary, and Judah our first week in Alpine! I've been loving them ever since.</li>
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<li>My dear friends, I will miss you. I've made some great friends here. Stephanie and Marty ministered with us the entire time we were here. There isn't much as awesome as sharing a passion for ministry with someone for a long time. They weren't only fellow ministers, they're close friends. My partner in crime, Renee. Joe and Damara, who else would come over and kill zombies with us? I'll tell you, no one. (Except maybe 15 yr olds) There are really too many friends to name, but I could go on and on. I will miss you all.</li>
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<li>Pamela. God sent you out here to us. Having you so close warded off homesickness more than you know. And your sweet family brings me immense joy.</li>
<li>Yogurt Mill.</li>
<li>Dr. Friday and Marti - How will I ever find Chiropractors like them? Marti sent me a recipe in the mail for Eggplant Parmesan the other day, just because she thought I would like it! They are good people.</li>
<li>I will miss beating Taylor up at every camp.</li>
<li>Our time in Haiti with our Youth was immeasurable. I loved every second of it.</li>
<li>I will miss outreaches to Alpine. Parades, Flower hand outs and Halloween Festivals. Bethel loves the community of Alpine, and I love that about Bethel!</li>
<li>I'll miss the eccentric elderly people at our church. They were one of my favorite parts of the week!</li>
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I could write so much more. I've been very blessed!</div>
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Here is a video we made a couple of months ago in memory of our time as Pastors of The Chozen Student Ministry:</div>
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Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-27377042339391079012011-04-25T16:10:00.000-07:002011-08-29T11:48:08.305-07:00Widows & Orphans {Haiti 2011 Part 2}<blockquote><em>"Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you." James 1:27</em><br />
<div align="right"><em>-The Good Book </em></div></blockquote><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Widows</strong> - <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Alone in this world, but highly favored by the King</span></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During our very first day of ministry in Haiti, we walked around the streets ministering and inviting people to an Easter revival service. Part of our group ran into a widow named Annalise. She was very old and lived in a house that was partially torn down by the earthquake. She told them her story of how she slept on the street for the first few months after the quake. She had a self sustaining business before the earthquake, cooking fresh meals everyday and selling them to folks on the street, but now, she lacks the money to get started again. As they spoke to her, she told them about some cysts she had on her abdomen. They were noticibly large and painful so the crew gathered around her and prayed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Then they went on with their walk.</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9c2E-UkFWJjuwr58qwpo7cs4T897CUYSKUOM7U1naXJq7CZcLSR_nl5hjEdl6wd7WqDKmz-jcZB52CdcCe_2TOMh7bIJ41Eaud8a2KveezzjP7inCiG6Q2Muy9TXPwO6ONfZekC5kSpPG/s1600/Haiti+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9c2E-UkFWJjuwr58qwpo7cs4T897CUYSKUOM7U1naXJq7CZcLSR_nl5hjEdl6wd7WqDKmz-jcZB52CdcCe_2TOMh7bIJ41Eaud8a2KveezzjP7inCiG6Q2Muy9TXPwO6ONfZekC5kSpPG/s200/Haiti+001.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">That night as we gathered to talk about our day, Aaron (one of our students) and Sophia (our AIM Project Leader) both shared a burden to return to pray for her again. So the next morning as we headed to a tent city, we stopped by her home to pray with her. We talked to her for a few moments, and then we shared our burden to pray. As Sophia placed her hand on Annalise's abdomen, an astonished look came over Sophia's face...the cysts were completely gone! Sophia ran her hand all over this woman's stomach area and the cysts that she felt so clearly just one day earlier had completely vanished! It was a true miracle! Annalise smiled and said, "God has been working on me!" We made several other visits to Annalise as the week went on and at the end of the week, Sophia went and bought a large amount of rice, beans, and oil. Enough for her to begin her business again. God used us once again to care for those he loves. What an honor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Orphans - </strong></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>Children of the Most High</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Wednesday afternoon, we spent the afternoon ministering at an orphanage. We acted out a Bible story, we sang songs with them, and played organized games. And then things got personal. This orphanage was the home to 20 girls. There used to be 60, but there former orphanage was completely destroyed by the earthquake. (Obviously, this earthquake affected everyone in this city) The place they were living in now, wasn't very safe either. We asked the girls to give us a tour of their home and the director of the orphanage took us from room to room. It was devastating. The girls slept in 3 rooms, but only 2 rooms had beds, the other one had only a stack of pillows in the corner. Their play area outside was stacked with rubble and half fallen walls. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRm3YjunAeR9TeNU1_1rnXyH7VJhbHB_tJouMB7bS8XRmckBSfc43QhX2fXZrFLiWZT79L65QSUsk9dG31IqiVTgqSM_8fnL6A3xnvE4uR2lOEUiJpxgKNGPo8Do-ztn9tffQemxzB0xKV/s1600/Haiti+2011+116b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRm3YjunAeR9TeNU1_1rnXyH7VJhbHB_tJouMB7bS8XRmckBSfc43QhX2fXZrFLiWZT79L65QSUsk9dG31IqiVTgqSM_8fnL6A3xnvE4uR2lOEUiJpxgKNGPo8Do-ztn9tffQemxzB0xKV/s320/Haiti+2011+116b.jpg" width="302" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">After our tour, we went outside and sat together playing games and talking through our gracious interpretors. One little girl, Nunez, walked hand in hand with me through our tour and when I sat down, she crawled right into my lap. We sat quietly for a long time as I stroked her back. Soon, I looked down and she was asleep on my chest. It was one of the sweetest and most humbling moments of my life. I didn't have the power to take sweet Nunez out of her situation. I couldn't rescue her. But I could be the hands and the touch of Jesus for a short moment in her life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">The orphanage director told us a story about Nunez. He said that after her mother died, her father felt incapable of taking care of her. He planned to kill her, but he told an friend and the friend begged him to take her to a pastor. He decided that he would let his friend have her, and the friend delivered her safely to the pastor/orphanage director. Her life was saved.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">All of the girls:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1CgLLgVlHhmDNOD7tO0Wc786fS8tSloJMJqGKhiW_AV-2HlK3nZqa0-ox_HYa2sy04WSK1JL98PFXT0Upj4IEItx1KOseRsierni2W2Nybws4Nal0XhKA3s8-zhrIb49T_NeJ91LcICF/s1600/Haiti+2011+117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1CgLLgVlHhmDNOD7tO0Wc786fS8tSloJMJqGKhiW_AV-2HlK3nZqa0-ox_HYa2sy04WSK1JL98PFXT0Upj4IEItx1KOseRsierni2W2Nybws4Nal0XhKA3s8-zhrIb49T_NeJ91LcICF/s320/Haiti+2011+117.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some living conditions:</span></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDCDCA-vyj6DmLYngx9-yp64at-t8n2Np260Ie1a1Vq8U5QhodLwpCR6EiFvZhINBG4nV_oLvSFNX3IkpRehEkgtfHtJ1sAymaQxPK7H8Kf-x86vAiBimdNDeOzUWbkCaioc8F7EDpwk2B/s1600/Haiti+2011+113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDCDCA-vyj6DmLYngx9-yp64at-t8n2Np260Ie1a1Vq8U5QhodLwpCR6EiFvZhINBG4nV_oLvSFNX3IkpRehEkgtfHtJ1sAymaQxPK7H8Kf-x86vAiBimdNDeOzUWbkCaioc8F7EDpwk2B/s320/Haiti+2011+113.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Part of our team plans to go back to the orphanage to help rebuild. We were also fortunate enough to leave several sleeping mats, sleeping bags, water bottles, towels and pillows at the orphange for the children. They should all have something to sleep on now! Thank you Chaffees for making that possible.</span></div>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-80683712346604062892011-04-25T14:18:00.000-07:002011-08-29T11:49:22.291-07:00So Far Away, So Close to Home {Haiti 2011 Part 1}<span class="messageBody"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
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<span class="messageBody"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><blockquote><em>"On the street I saw a small girl cold and shivering In a thin dress, with little hope of a decent meal. <br />
I became angry and said to God: 'why did you permit this? Why dont you do something about it?' <br />
For awhile God said nothing. That night he replied, quite suddenly: 'i certainly did something about it. <br />
I made you.'" -unknown author</em></blockquote></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I returned from Haiti a few days ago, it was Adam and my's 2nd trip to the country. </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We went last year, only months after the 7.2 earthquake rattled the devestated country and as we left there, we felt compelled to return. So we did. And this time, we took 5 of our students and 2 of our youth leaders along for an amazing ride. During our week in Haiti, we went to 2 church services, we put on a VBS, we worked at an orphanage, we climbed 2 mountains to pray over Pastors homes, we worked in a tent city, we helped build a temorary shelter for a family, and we ministered on the streets of Carrefour - all for the glory of God..</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"><strong>Rebuilding their City</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Adam and I were amazed at the progress of Port-Au-Prince and Carrefour. The people of Haiti have been working very hard to clean up the rubble that ran rampant last April, and rebuild their homes and business'. They have a long road ahead of them, there is still a lot of destruction and too many people still live in tent cities, but there is hope.</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmU4PgNfpUv9ciHdfLL17uigqq7wgKNdbrVmUkgTn9LUdenV2Cu4PSFCB_VjR06DvmbLUtseKm51eEWS0IfQy0kTxKeuA-ALFVoxBICxGRJZJCOXii1aSm3M17fdzynJz-HyjQLQuIdnHi/s1600/Haiti+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmU4PgNfpUv9ciHdfLL17uigqq7wgKNdbrVmUkgTn9LUdenV2Cu4PSFCB_VjR06DvmbLUtseKm51eEWS0IfQy0kTxKeuA-ALFVoxBICxGRJZJCOXii1aSm3M17fdzynJz-HyjQLQuIdnHi/s200/Haiti+002.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial;">One day when we were walking through a community in Carrefour, we stopped near a home where a few people knew partial English. They invited us into their "broken" home and my heart was moved as we saw the cracks in the walls and the rubble at our feet. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">They had been living in a tent in their courtyard for a year + 4 months, but that same day a temporary shelter had been delivered to them from a ministry in the USA. Praise the Lord! A couple of our students asked if they could stay and help build - how could we say no to that?! So 3 students and I stayed to help them build, while the rest of the team went on to a tent city to minister. It was a wonderful few hours with the family, a true appointment from Heaven. The following are a few photos from the build:</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqY-wFq019pIELiY7mMglLzUjVVBO4ptGOCy8pJDHitojiUT2uV0A-N41XAFyduWd487UF1CuS1U-dToIMw-0GPOy9xEI7HYzRy1BTg9IJVhhaq8WPjfkjINQDzj25DvaTqXd66qs5eaE/s1600/Haiti+2011+023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqY-wFq019pIELiY7mMglLzUjVVBO4ptGOCy8pJDHitojiUT2uV0A-N41XAFyduWd487UF1CuS1U-dToIMw-0GPOy9xEI7HYzRy1BTg9IJVhhaq8WPjfkjINQDzj25DvaTqXd66qs5eaE/s320/Haiti+2011+023.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ9GFDwqzhM_C7eeyQwXWbAPK15MnsaEDQb8j51T7Lh-T1a629F5wCmyS3USFzRyMNDdnCGvNhH9XXBUmPvuYHecb973d7LkEz8ROPXOHQjJTtUHFnal42NXa1hGr6vhUtGzkiWRLMNoOY/s1600/Haiti+2011+027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ9GFDwqzhM_C7eeyQwXWbAPK15MnsaEDQb8j51T7Lh-T1a629F5wCmyS3USFzRyMNDdnCGvNhH9XXBUmPvuYHecb973d7LkEz8ROPXOHQjJTtUHFnal42NXa1hGr6vhUtGzkiWRLMNoOY/s320/Haiti+2011+027.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And the final product:</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_mnmuGE1u_sB3AIGfIZWIB5eDrCD7wLh7pTfhNSZTVZPVjeMVN7O9X-f5yrSxuqhRTCWRzagoHm2FKrMl8x-L2uuP-5Q6tjYlOrZuX6u10WJceNN8419ji8JUA1hnytOwZBWgNKZfoJJ/s1600/Haiti+2011+073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_mnmuGE1u_sB3AIGfIZWIB5eDrCD7wLh7pTfhNSZTVZPVjeMVN7O9X-f5yrSxuqhRTCWRzagoHm2FKrMl8x-L2uuP-5Q6tjYlOrZuX6u10WJceNN8419ji8JUA1hnytOwZBWgNKZfoJJ/s320/Haiti+2011+073.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That day, we were as blessed by them as they were by us. And they sent us home with some delicious Mangos.</span></span>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-30230966766130280552010-11-22T12:08:00.000-08:002010-11-22T12:08:50.677-08:00Still Thankful<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=img&q=http://larussophobe.files.wordpress.com/2009/12/christmas_snoopy-11420.jpg&sa=X&ei=Xc3qTLrzIZOasAOzrP2wCw&ved=0CAQQ8wc4Eg&usg=AFQjCNF5V6-ebLJOrrNW9uJslBTNMfDjhA" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="216" id="il_fi" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=img&q=http://larussophobe.files.wordpress.com/2009/12/christmas_snoopy-11420.jpg&sa=X&ei=Xc3qTLrzIZOasAOzrP2wCw&ved=0CAQQ8wc4Eg&usg=AFQjCNF5V6-ebLJOrrNW9uJslBTNMfDjhA" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="147" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Mmm, Christmas is in the air! My coffe has a cinnamon creamer. My Christmas tree is up, my home is decorated with shiny tinsel. The nativity scene my grandmother got me is on the end table. Pandora Radio is singing "O Holy Night". It's November 22nd.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Once upon a time, Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday. I would have 2, sometimes 3, Thanksgiving feasts in one day. The holiday was filled with food, family, and football...The big 3. As I've grown up, however, I've moved far from my family and this holiday season is a busy one in my current occupation. It's become nearly impossible to go home for Thanksgiving. Because of that, I may be a bit bitter about this holiday. My first Thanksgiving in California, I cried the whole time I cooked my Green Bean Casserole. I'm much less homesick in general around this time of year, but I can't help feeling like Thanksgiving just isn't what it used to be for me. </span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">However, just because I'm not SUPER into Thanksgivng, don't think I'm not thankful...I'm thankful for Christmas! Jk, I'm genuinely thankful for a million things. In fact as thankfulness goes, I'm at the top of the class. I'm prepped and ready for a fun-filled Thanksgiving dinner with my favorite Canadian friends on Thursday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This is not a pity-party. Oh, it's certaintly not. It's actually the opposite of that - I've found a whole new appreciation for Christmas. On top of celebrating the precious birth of my Saviour, enjoying the unity of the giving season, and Starbucks holiday drinks, this year, Christmas means family! I'm going home in a couple weeks and after Christmas, my in-laws are coming here to visit us. Spending Christmas and the New Year with my family is the best Christmas gift I can recieve.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And so, some may scoff at my premature Christmas spirit, but with every Starbucks Caramel Apple Cider, I inch closer to my new favorite holiday. Everytime I hear Bing Crosby sing The Christmas Song, I get giddy with excitement. And with as much uncertainty as our lives hold, I love the certainty that in 32 days, 12 hours, 1 minutes and 27 seconds, Christmas will be here. I'm thankful, for all of this.</span>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-44226841839145534092010-10-02T14:15:00.000-07:002010-10-02T20:09:13.333-07:00"What Can Hollywood do?" Oh no.<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I read an article online this morning entitled, "Gay Suicide on the Rise, What Can Hollywood Do?" The article highlighted how this week, 5 gay teens in America committed suicide as an apparent reaction to bullying. Heartbreaker. The article went on to encourage homosexual actors to come out of the closet in order to make homosexuality more normal for teenagers. I'll just come out with it and say that I don't believe God creates us to be anything other than heterosexual, but like anything else in life, beating homosexuality can be tough. We are in a war against sin, and too many beautiful, talented, creative and kind people are lost in the battle.</span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://laist.com/attachments/lindsayrebecca/hollywoodsign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" id="il_fi" src="http://laist.com/attachments/lindsayrebecca/hollywoodsign.jpg" width="200" /></a></p$1><p$1><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> What really caught me off guard was the title "What can Hollywood do?" Oh no. This makes me panic. The LAST thing we need is Hollywood getting involved in solving people's personal issues. And yet, my next reaction is grief. Someone HAS to get involved, and sadly, the church (overall, not individually) is doing a crappy job. Have we accepted, comforted and loved our self-proclaimed gay teenagers or have we ostracized them? Who feels more uncomfortable when a "gay kid" enters our church doors...us or them? If you ask me (not that I'm a true expert), this is the battle of our generation. In our So Cal school system, it's cool to be Bi. That means you are open-minded. Nearly every week we have students walk into our youth minist<p$1 style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></p$1>ry battling their feelings, emotions, inner-demons. I've had multiple gut-wrenching conversations with students who feel pressured, confused, and scared of the reaction of authorities in their life. What do we have to offer that Hollywood doesn't? Grace, Truth, and Love.</span></div><br />
</p$1><p$1><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Grace and Truth are like Batman and Robin. Together Grace and Truth are unstoppable. Hollywood gives grace. It's a twisted, political and controversial grace, but it makes people feel accepted. The Church has THE Truth. Unfortunately, we've preached the truth on this subject with fists in the air and billboards dripping with condemnation. I'm still pondering why we have ready-grace for some sins, and others we draw a hard black graceless line on the concrete. Maybe it's all too personal? I don't know. What I do know is that if we, the Bride of Christ, would come to our gay friends with boundless Grace and unyielding Truth, we would have a much better chance of representing ourselves as those also saved by grace. </span><br />
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</p$1><p$1><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> And then to this equation, we add Love. Who truly loves this broadening community of people? Hollywood loves the cause. The Church hates their actions. I'll tell you who loves gays, God does. At the San Diego Pride Festival and Parade, every year there are people with signs that read "God Hates Gays" and I want to tackle them. In reality, sometimes it seems like He's the only one who really loves them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></p$1><p$1> If we are going to claim to be Christians, you know, "like Christ" then we need some introspection. We can't be afraid of Loving. We must remember the Grace we received. And we can never walk away from the Truth that set us free.</p$1></span><br />
<img height="63" src="http://laist.com/attachments/lindsayrebecca/hollywoodsign.jpg" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 594px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 425px; visibility: hidden;" width="96" />Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-90394760747463577012010-08-27T12:32:00.000-07:002010-08-27T12:32:16.566-07:00Not So Graceful<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Recently, I have been digging deep and thinking about people in my past who have disappointed me. It's like every 5 years I look back and evaluate my life 5 years earlier and pick it apart: the good, the bad, and the ugly (the ugly is usually how I was acting at the time). Anyway, as I search into my fairly recent history, I am seeing some obvious disappointments. People I thought were solid and loved Jesus, who made decisions that sent them running in the opposite direction of everything Holy. <em>Let me make it clear that I have intense trouble with this. Someone can slap me in the face and call me names, yet, I'm willing to work through it, but disregard Jesus? Oh, I just don't know what to say to that sometimes.</em> I remember the heartbreak I felt during that time as so many friends I thought were strong stepped away from grace. Some of those relationships, I sought to keep strong. Some I never heard from again. Shamefully, some I judged and walked away from (*<strong>shameful</strong>*).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">So here I am today, thinking about those friends. As I washed dishes this morning, I walked through some steps to relationship recovery with myself. Step 1: <strong>Forgive them</strong>. I have heard it said that true forgiveness means being able to wish the offender well. To bless them. Well this took a bit of work, but the 5 years that took place in between most of the drama sure helps. I started remembering the good times, and oh, those times were good. Fun and youthful. Step 2: <strong>Remember grace.</strong> As I worked through "<em>How could they</em>...", I remembered King David. God REALLY trusted this man and yet he shacked up with Bathsheba and had her husband killed. Bad news. And there's Noah- built a boat, survived annihilation by water, and then got drunk and naked. Boo. Oh my, thank you Lord for the reminder. My biggest beef with my friends came from the fact that they were a part of something awesome. God used them in their gifts. They saw people saved, changed. And then they left ministry to pursue...other things. Well, so did David, Noah, and so many others. God is graceful. He forgives and he uses us in spite of...us. That brings me to Step 3: <strong>Who am I?</strong> Better than them? No. In many of these cases, I only made things worse. God's kindness leads his children to repentence, and I was not a good example of this to many of my friends. <strong>I am so sorry.</strong> I have been focused on my hurt and my lack of understanding, that I failed to be <span style="font-size: x-small;">loving, gentle, kind, peace-making, yada- yada</span>. I realize that I am a different person than I once was. I occasionally remember how I handled situations in my past and I cringe. I definitely lacked gentleness and grace. I aspire to be better at those qualities now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">God, let me be graceful and humble in my relationships. Those qualities are much prettier than the ones I have previously exibited. Stay tuned...in 5 years I'm gonna write another blog like this.</span>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-80461420383404479522010-08-26T15:40:00.000-07:002010-11-06T17:23:31.968-07:00The Nomad's Anchor<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh18ZMYsDbUAGxIWK_uN43jL-JMxx8OWlRTX47QyeOYdidnPw93aV5m8k_MDAYdQjUa95AlZ-Gj1R1NbJVgxjgT5slAe8YaHqH-8oMCdFJ7NCB7NbGOx6Oe-LpQG86jLtp-m3mBDiFJ3GyY/s1600/1922014ho2ahxb492.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh18ZMYsDbUAGxIWK_uN43jL-JMxx8OWlRTX47QyeOYdidnPw93aV5m8k_MDAYdQjUa95AlZ-Gj1R1NbJVgxjgT5slAe8YaHqH-8oMCdFJ7NCB7NbGOx6Oe-LpQG86jLtp-m3mBDiFJ3GyY/s320/1922014ho2ahxb492.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lately, I have been pondering where I fit in on earth. I was born in the small town of Neosho, Missouri. I grew up with white Christmas', Tornado Season, the smell of chicken houses, the safety of a small town, the world's largest flowerbox, bare feet in green grass, creeks and crawdads, family reunions, pork chops and fried okra, churches on every corner, Ticks & Chiggers, childhood friendships, Grandma's homemade chocolate chip cookies, hills, Thunderstorms, bike rides, aunts and uncles, and colorful autumns. I lived in Neosho for 19 wonderful years. I was very happy there, in fact, I was so happy that I seldom thought about life outside of my small, beautiful city. At 18, I began to feel a tug on my heart. It was dangerous to my contentment, but I began to see that God's plan was taking me places that I never envisioned. One crisp morning in October of 2002, I packed everything I could fit into my '94 Mazda and drove 7 hours to the big city of Dallas, Texas. </span></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I drove through the metroplex cities of Dallas/Fort Worth, hot wind sweeping through my hair, Audio Adrenaline blasting from my CD player, darting in and out of 5 lane traffic; I knew my life was different already. I spent the next 6 years in a place very unlike the one I grew up in. Dallas was hot, flat and full of life. I found that the city was exciting; concerts, restaurants that were open all night, shopping, celebrities, skylines, the only reason that I was ever bored was because my gas tank was empty and/or I was a poor college student. Texas was full of surprises for me like fire ants, traffic, HEAT, Tex-Mex, stolen CD Player(s) from my car, a sweetheart turned marriage, a whole new Texas family, 4-wheelers, jet-skis, poor inner-city children, Certificate of Ministry, and a bunch of beautiful friendships that I will cherish forever. It was 2007 when my circumstances began changing and I prepared for new scenery. Adam and I opened our hearts to another adventure, telling the Lord that we were willing to go anywhere.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the Spring of 2008, my husband and I drove across the southwest states of our great country to our new home in a quiet suburb of San Diego, CA. Alpine was beautiful. The weather was perfect. I remember commenting that the Garden of Eden may have been located in this precious town. Over the course of the past 2 years, I have fallen in love with many elements. I love the harvest of fresh fruit that falls off of the trees at this time of year, 300 days of sunshine a year, the view of the rugged mountains, sunsets, Palm Trees, and of course the sandy beaches that line the Pacific are a glorious addition to my life. Out on the west coast, I often feel like the world is at my fingertips. Big Cities and beaches, what more could I ask for?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's my dilema. I know what more I could ask for. Dogwood trees in full bloom. Indian summers. Noisy holidays. 4-wheeling through arcres of undeveloped land. Evenings spent watching deer run in pairs through open fields from the backporch of my uncle's farmhouse. Buttermilk pie. Family. BUT, if I went back to Missouri, I would long for the sound of the waves and the fair weather and the big cities with their cultural blends. Moving is not the answer. My problem is that I am now a compilation of all of these places. I am in love with San Diego. And Dallas, Texas. And Neosho, Missouri. These places and the people in them have shaped me into who I am, and yet I don't fit perfectly into any of them anymore. Who have I become? I am a nomad without a home, without a permanant residence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">1 Peter 2:11, "Friends, this world is not your home, so don't make yourselves cozy in it."</span> What a reminder! I am often homesick, but where is my ultimate home? Not here. Not even on this planet. As much as I long for the changing seasons of my youth, how much more do I long to spend eternity with the creator of the rain, snow, and sunshine. I long for Heaven. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Being a Christian means giving up the right to becoming comfortable here. As lonely as I often feel, I am anchored by my mission. I gave up my right to choose where to live a long time ago. My prayer is that God uses me as much as possible during my short stint on Earth. Because of that, I will be a nomad. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><em>Along the way, I am thankful for the precious experiences held in each place He has given me to enjoy.</em></span>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-56746117026582583472010-07-10T17:43:00.000-07:002011-09-14T20:33:00.102-07:00The Lady in the White Car.<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Warning: This is a graphic read.</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Adam and I were pulling into our apartment complex tonight when we saw it. Adam saw it, I heard it. Two cars collided, one while screeching on its side after tumbling throught the air. As Adam screamed, I looked to see the aftermath of a horrible accident. We both jumped out of the car, running to the scene; me, with my cell phone dialing 911. A semi-elderly couple were climbing out of the chrystler clutching various cuts and possible broken bones. I told the 911 operator our location, what the cars looked like, and what I had (hadn't) seen. She asked "Does it look like there is anyone trapped inside?" I looked toward the car accident and saw a picture that haunts me. A small river of blood ran down the street toward my feet. "Yes. Someone is trapped inside", Adam was walking away from that river with tears in his eyes. The events that followed, the sights I saw, I cannot share here. What I will share is that the lady in the white car didn't make it. She was alive when she passed Adam and I driving down the street an hour ago, but she isn't alive right now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> I am changed. I keep thinking about this young woman that I don't know, will never know. Who was she? Are there children who are motherless now? A husband who lost his love? Will someone be called on Monday and told that she won't be at work? More important than any of that right now is where is she now? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> I walked into our living room and sat on the couch quietly. I was going to get on Facebook, then maybe go swimming, drink a soda. None of that even mattered anymore. Where was this woman spending eternity? That is what mattered. And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. She was totally gone. The chance to tell her about the saving power of Jesus Christ was in the past now. Her decision had already been made. What a crater there is in my heart. My gut has been wrenched. See here's the kicker: today, I spent 5 hours sitting in front of Albertson's Grocery store, the hub of my little town. There is a greater-than-normal chance that I saw this woman today. I might have looked in her eyes, shook her hand, even watched her walk in the far entrance of the store in order to avoid the rowdy teenagers selling baked goods in front of the store. That's not what gets me, what gets me is that IT DOESN'T MATTER IF I SAW HER TODAY. I told no one I saw about the eternal security of my Saviour. "God bless you" did not save anyone's life today. The brownies we sold had a greater chance of giving someone food poisening than it did give someone a chance at hope. I was focused on my day, my responsibilities, not my real mission. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">As someone who knows the TRUTH, I must be aware of my surroundings. God, don't let me miss an oppurtunity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"> Lady in the white car, I'm praying for those who loved you.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIc3Fy8tlpFnPJfwXJv2if_OmfLyOheooyCWsRGdt8rsknEUo3r5bmC7XC_PJ5bywVacjjaLcaYCHFY8w6I6jjr1_3mcOS0bYJ16fWvldo6Ffg494GOAm-CFSRMqZd_anyr7ipfLNgGH-/s1600/CIMG0052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIc3Fy8tlpFnPJfwXJv2if_OmfLyOheooyCWsRGdt8rsknEUo3r5bmC7XC_PJ5bywVacjjaLcaYCHFY8w6I6jjr1_3mcOS0bYJ16fWvldo6Ffg494GOAm-CFSRMqZd_anyr7ipfLNgGH-/s400/CIMG0052.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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<strong><em>"How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone." - James 4:14</em></strong></div>
Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-77845689695338541412010-06-28T12:03:00.000-07:002010-06-28T12:03:32.658-07:00What's Next?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i1031.photobucket.com/albums/y374/Bjm2013/graduation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ru="true" src="http://i1031.photobucket.com/albums/y374/Bjm2013/graduation.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "What are you going to do after High School?" It's graduation season on the Youth Ministry front and I've watched many a student cringe as they've been asked this question over and over. And over. Some feel very prepared with a well thought through response and a smile of confidence, while others feel nervous and unsure of their future. The truth is, this conversation never ends. Yes, most of us graduate from High School and eventually move away from mom and dad to something else, but the question of "What's Next?" continues to linger. Those poor unsuspecting graduates who think they will get a break from this question in the Fall when College begins, are in for a real wake-up call when they come home for Thanksgiving only to hear, "Have you met anyone?" And then when you finally do fall in love and have a steady relationship..."When are you two finally going to tie the knot?" Knot tied? "BABIES?!" I've literally been at the hospital visiting someone after they have given birth, when another visitor walked in and asked, "So how long do you two plan to wait before you have another?" The list of questions grows as you get older, "Preschools? Promotions? Retirement? Remarriage? Grandkids???"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"> I don't know exactly why people do this. I have been guilty as well of attempting to move people through the stages of life very quickly. As the person being asked the questions, the whole proccess gets old pretty quickly. You feel like you are being rushed to take the next step in your life that will lead to ...? More happiness? Satisfaction? I'm not sure. What I do know, is that every stage of life has it's joy and pain. I am a fan of enjoyingit all. I look back now on these portions of my life and think things like: what if I would have succombed to the dating pressure instead of enjoying all of the things that come with being single? I would have missed hanging out with friends til all hours of the night, making all of my own decisions, even being lonely. And what if Adam and I would have listened to my mother (jk, mom) and all of the other voices telling us we should have had kids right away? Our lives would be different now. And I'm happy the way my life has been drawn. Is it possible for us to enjoy every season with our frinds, relatives, and aquintances? I hope I can, because in reality, I ask myself "What's next?" enough for all of us.</span>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-11939182588979061982010-06-19T23:09:00.000-07:002010-11-06T17:24:20.302-07:00The Scandalous Life of Clara Laird.<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">It was 2am when Clara Laird was awakened by a knock at her door. It was an officer, she was needed immediatly. As Clara made her way into her office at the Pentagon, she immediatly noticed the somber moods of the 15 plus officers in the room. It was 1952 and Clara had been summoned to type some pressing documents, centered around Balistic Missle Defense. She was surrounded by some of the countries highest ranked and most important military men. Driven by habit and instinct, the young woman reached for the coffee pot and headed towards the group of heavily decorated officers. One gentleman stepped up to her and took the pot of coffee,"Miss Laird, right now you are the most important person in this room."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New;">Clara was a beautiful, confident and independant woman. She was tough and dignified, known for working in military offices, starting right after her graduation from college during WWII and working her way to the highest position a woman in the 40s and 50s could ask to be in. Clara was respected by many and was good at her job. She was sassy and never intimidated by the pressure of working in the Pentagon, surrounded by men no less. Her days in DC were exciting and full of adventure. Sworn to secrecy about the projects she worked on, she took all that she saw and heard with her to her grave.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New;">After several years in the military, Clara moved back home to Joplin, MO. Clara went from working from an expensive desk in DC to the trenches of a social service office. For the next few decades, she worked on behalf of families and children, spending every free moment caring for their needs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New;">Clara Laird was a spectacular woman, but I knew her best as Aunt Jeannie. I learned several things from Aunt Jeannie:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New;">1. A well styled bob is always a classy choice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New;">2. A packrat is only a negaitve term if you are not in LOVE with every item you own.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New;">3. Stubborness keeps you living on your terms.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New;">4. Generosity from a packrat (see #2) keeps your guests giggling.</span><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">My Aunt Jeannie never married, never had children of her own, but she was a happy woman. She was stubborn and always spoke her mind, but that Laird giggle made it impossible to hold anything but adoration for her. She was lovely and dignified. Tonight, Clara "Jeannie" Laird passed into eternity. I will deeply miss the influence my dear aunt had in my life. She inspired me to make bold and corageous decisions, gently waving aside the criticism of others to experience my own exciting ventures. Thank you, Aunt Jeannie for your unconditional love, generosity, and honesty. You made my life exactly what you worked to make your own, an invigorating quest of self-discovery and adventure.</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9pSqduP1E3IpFr3G8CU6J-0lf5xbxFM29F34EpRUKMFfeUWZkioak6c2COWOunrvq93cV8AhrUZjQzM5bnrewgjYHX0RGhStbmWCdX4JroFGtF5xPJKQnJZ8R1uHfOajOgrO5Z399cvsT/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9pSqduP1E3IpFr3G8CU6J-0lf5xbxFM29F34EpRUKMFfeUWZkioak6c2COWOunrvq93cV8AhrUZjQzM5bnrewgjYHX0RGhStbmWCdX4JroFGtF5xPJKQnJZ8R1uHfOajOgrO5Z399cvsT/s400/004.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-14401557528757250532010-06-09T15:42:00.000-07:002010-06-09T15:42:14.743-07:00#195 Calm Before the StormA dead silence grips the air.<br />
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The ground is moistened and a cool damp wind hisses through the trees.<br />
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The smell of rain mixed with the pleasant air, fills my lungs.<br />
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With it comes the calm before the storm.<br />
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The green plants drip with the cold water from past rains as another soft gust of air passes me by.<br />
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The land is covered with a light wet fog of moisture.<br />
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The light gray clouds swirl into a distant, dark, angry sea of sky.<br />
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Aside from the soft sway and hiss of the trees; dead silence.<br />
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This calm hush over the land is a tranquil getaway for the mind to be at ease.<br />
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The land, in all of its complexities, awaits with me for the inevitable storm.<br />
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The sound of distant thunder breaks the silence and slides across the darkening sky.<br />
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The clouds above take the light from the sky as if they envied the sun's presents.<br />
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Almost like an invisible snake, another cool breeze slivers though the distant field of grass and peacefully caresses my shoulders as it passes by.<br />
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I try to soak up the remainder of this peaceful moment, as the storm moves ever closer.<br />
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The air is now filled with a slightly agitated sky, the storm, towering, impermeable, and determined to destroy this placid moment, stretches and pulls to fulfill its mission.<br />
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The still calm and peaceful land seems to know as well as I, that there is no stopping this darkness that is soon to come.<br />
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The storm is now almost upon me and it smothers the remaining land before it with a thick curtain of water.<br />
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Only the hope and faith that the storm will be over to reveal another peaceful moment are now left.<br />
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The hope and fact that there, as inevitable as the storm's path, will be another peaceful moment worth seeing, feeling, and living is all the reason to wait through the darkness. <br />
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Author Unknown by me.Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-28800097067282774032010-05-17T17:22:00.000-07:002011-08-29T11:42:58.174-07:00Miracle.<div style="border: currentColor;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> So there is one story that I have told over and over again about Haiti.</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I haven't written about this story here, because...it seems to big for words. My typed words cannot describe what I saw, experienced.</span></div><div style="border: currentColor;"><br />
</div><div style="border: currentColor;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQm7BK7G-fLGr2kaZym5vXyLdriwwrCCZIWAt7LPw20bLXKxr7E-iph0XPorSsRZejgOxskS41klEh0os6b2chruU7qwOrZFsXkYFBygkaI-t8U53e1MnLmXGLj921HthKudgVy1eomGmN/s1600/30256_1445106205634_1172513590_1295424_2389776_n%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQm7BK7G-fLGr2kaZym5vXyLdriwwrCCZIWAt7LPw20bLXKxr7E-iph0XPorSsRZejgOxskS41klEh0os6b2chruU7qwOrZFsXkYFBygkaI-t8U53e1MnLmXGLj921HthKudgVy1eomGmN/s320/30256_1445106205634_1172513590_1295424_2389776_n%5B1%5D.jpg" width="240" wt="true" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana;">It started the day we went to see Evansbord in his tent. <span style="color: purple;">(If you havent read about him, please check out my entry entitled<a href="http://ponderingbliss.blogspot.com/2010/05/invincible.html"> "Invincible"</a> before reading this entry.)</span> His condition moved us and we agreed that our great big God could touch this young man's life. We prayed for him every time we entered his tent. One day, our physical therapist, Tiffany, went to visit him hoping to give his mother some exercises. As she examined Evansbord, she soon looked bewildered, telling us that she couldn't find anything physically wrong with him.</span></div><div style="border: currentColor;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> The next day, Thursday morning, several members of our team went into Evansbord's tent with a brand new resolve. As we talked to his mother, we soon learned that after Evansbord had suffered from a seizure at 2 months old, she had taken him to a voodoo doctor to stop the seizures. The doctor had given her some steps that would "help" his situation, but after another month, her baby was sicker than before. Evansbord's mother then took him to a medical doctor. His diagnosis? There is nothing physically wrong with her son, the problem is spiritual.</span></div><div style="border: currentColor;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> It was then that we realized that God had saved Evansbord's life in that Earthquake for a larger purpose than we had realized. We began to pray and intercede for Evansbord. We prayed for 2 and a half hours. We felt strongly that this young man needed to be baptized, so we grabbed a large tarp and filled it with all the water we could find, using the water from our water bottles. We baptized Evansbord and then went to lunch.</span></div><div style="border: currentColor;"><br />
</div><div style="border: currentColor;"><div style="border: currentColor;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> When we returned from lunch, Evansbord's mother was glowing from ear to ear, "The evil spirit has left my son!" Evansbord was laughing and his eyes were focusing on objects, he was mimicking noises and motions with his hands. By Friday morning, a boy who has never left the fetal position, crawled across the tent to look outside! By Friday afternoon, Evansbord was speaking full sentences in Creole and playing catch with a ball! Many friends of the family came into their tent and celebrated with Evansbord's mother, they were witnesses to what God had done. THIS WAS A MIRACLE. God healed Evansbord. I was so honored to be there. Thank you, God for using me.</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbosMdKKQvI5O_lnTNCJHhQ8sRS-vvx7PoIJQwcdk5IwlOpsPENC6EXqo25X9u8zsi9O8oR8ZchrMwLsmDElkWPJwehrcn6HrmT3VVTdamRLx4-2vFrC7rbh7hVm4-6Ynnytq2w9PEbXI4/s1600/28945_393121834595_660864595_3934267_196497_n%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbosMdKKQvI5O_lnTNCJHhQ8sRS-vvx7PoIJQwcdk5IwlOpsPENC6EXqo25X9u8zsi9O8oR8ZchrMwLsmDElkWPJwehrcn6HrmT3VVTdamRLx4-2vFrC7rbh7hVm4-6Ynnytq2w9PEbXI4/s400/28945_393121834595_660864595_3934267_196497_n%5B1%5D.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="border: currentColor;"><br />
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</div><div style="border: currentColor;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">If you want to read this story from another perspective, check out: </span></div><div style="border: currentColor;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="http://haiti.adventures.org/?filename=changed&bookmark=true#comments">Young Haitian Delivered from the Hands of a Witch Doctor</a></span></div><div style="border: currentColor;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">This is written from the perspective of my friend, Stephanie. There is also a short video clip of the baptism.</span></div>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-66336721877424028622010-05-06T18:44:00.000-07:002011-08-29T11:43:49.950-07:00Tent City<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1OGrrFZ0W3BMlxvUWuw2fZP4D9O-EXfR5dwIKEdjhBSJ1nkLXGIqGTXZ_TZxwml1G320C9_rA7TOFCwQI6kAPNWJcF4w1heEHY-KZfEtNn5z85TvMB49WE0jGiVUXy5916FM5Xcn8Loa7/s1600/Haiti+2010+014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1OGrrFZ0W3BMlxvUWuw2fZP4D9O-EXfR5dwIKEdjhBSJ1nkLXGIqGTXZ_TZxwml1G320C9_rA7TOFCwQI6kAPNWJcF4w1heEHY-KZfEtNn5z85TvMB49WE0jGiVUXy5916FM5Xcn8Loa7/s400/Haiti+2010+014.jpg" tt="true" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ghost Town</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We ministered this week in a tent community. On Monday as we walked to the field where the tents were, we passed through the neighborhood where most of the people living in the tent city, used to have homes. It was very green and private, low walls were present covered by vines and flowers. It was a Caribbean ghost town. Some houses stood, while others were leveled. There was the faint outline of three walls with a cracked sign in the front reading "Baptist Church" in Creole. In this community there was an elementary school that was still standing, in the field nearby was rows of tents. I was nervous to go in at first, after all, the people we were about to personally encounter had been homeless for the last four months, and I knew the spoiled life that I live. My nerves were soon put to rest, the Haitian people were warm and welcoming.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Community</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We brought a soccer ball and some other games for the children. We brought our prayers and support for the adults. Adam, a few other members of our team, and I walked around the community with a translator, talking with people about the earthquake and their lives since. We heard dramatic stories of life and death. Many heroic stories of mothers saving the lives of their children while suffering great injury themselves. Over the next several days, I found myself laughing and crying with my new Haitian friends. I couldn't hide my sadness as I listened to tales of hunger, loneliness, and physical pain. Several teenagers and young adults expressed their need for schools to be rebuilt, and education to be started again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> As the week progressed, our AIM team compiled our skills into a fairly organized visit each day. Members of our team constructed a VBS (children's teaching time) each day and the children watched Bible stories being dramatically acted out, learned scriptures and made crafts. At the same time, Adam delivered a word of hope and encouragement, with the help of an interpreter, to the adults under a large tree at the entrance to the community. In the midst of our language barrier, our relationships deepened and we became very close the people in this community.</span><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Meeting Needs</span></div><div class="separator" style="border: currentColor; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTeW4RyppYBX2jmxSH2SUF2qxoLm0o2nzf6CibTYcMPerQCb7ryMGGksv5EGkQOmKBUUm130nidCqxrobovbqFfBz9fP139ap5RlIbr7wjOwymGiICtaiHECcU3hgnG-fFQmMdeyIFV_T5/s1600/Haiti+2010+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTeW4RyppYBX2jmxSH2SUF2qxoLm0o2nzf6CibTYcMPerQCb7ryMGGksv5EGkQOmKBUUm130nidCqxrobovbqFfBz9fP139ap5RlIbr7wjOwymGiICtaiHECcU3hgnG-fFQmMdeyIFV_T5/s200/Haiti+2010+010.JPG" tt="true" width="200" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO6XDMauBg5N3_49Pm1NfuFejq5GyY6bhGdnXYtxoN637_qbnZ0XIZoIbT6TtH0Jl5H8xSua15qdvhaJ_oGegtyfOjaq6MrzbHFCfzYWkZt3fwRd-dQ9b-bgWRKdJ0Luu3jre63vmwGJQr/s1600/31706_1418823279713_1506582106_31046433_7936071_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO6XDMauBg5N3_49Pm1NfuFejq5GyY6bhGdnXYtxoN637_qbnZ0XIZoIbT6TtH0Jl5H8xSua15qdvhaJ_oGegtyfOjaq6MrzbHFCfzYWkZt3fwRd-dQ9b-bgWRKdJ0Luu3jre63vmwGJQr/s200/31706_1418823279713_1506582106_31046433_7936071_n.jpg" tt="true" width="200" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One day we brought loads of medical supplies and set up a tent at the entrance of their tent city. We created a make shift clinic where we met the physical needs of nearly 100 people in this community. We brought simple tools like band aids, antibiotic ointment, baby wipes, pepto, aspirin, ace bandages, crutches, aloe vera, etc. One of our team members is a physical therapist and she worked hard diagnosing issues and giving people exercises to help them heal. After we "doctored" them, we gave each family a bag filled with soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, and similar things. For those we could not help with the tools we had, we prayed for God's healing. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> As we prayed, we saw some pretty amazing things happen. There was a man who had been suffering from severe stomach pain for 4 months. He was laying on the ground and his wife told us that he was rarely able to move from that position. We prayed for him and went on our way. When we came back the next day, he was sitting on the ground talking and laughing with his friends. I almost didn't recognize him. When our interpreter asked him how he was feeling, he said he felt great, God had touched him. While we were praying for needs, a young man approached me. His name was Sanon. He explained to my translator, Dorly, that his soul had been sold to a voodoo priest and now he had been marked for human sacrifice. I worked hard not to show my shock at what Dorly was translating to me. I held my composer, but I saw the fear and vulnerability in Sanon's eyes as he waited patiently for my prayer. I asked Dorly if this was common and he said no, but he was aware of the practice. He also shared that outside of the safety of Jesus Christ, there was no escape for Sanon. After I prayed with Sanon, it was hard to move on. My heart was broken for this young man living in fear, but I was (am) confident that God would rescue him.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">UN</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">One day we were surprised by a visit from UN Military. Apparently, one of their helicopters had flown by our tent city and saw a large mob gathered (in line for medical care), so they sent troops to check it out. They walked around our community for a bit with their large guns and ammo, but left when they were satisfied that we were holding a peaceful gathering. It was nerve racking having so many soldiers from all over the world so close with such dangerous weapons. That was the ONLY time in Haiti that I was fearful for my safety. And they were the good guys.</span></span></div>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-79185897537213221372010-05-06T11:51:00.000-07:002011-08-29T11:44:17.069-07:00Invincible<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wednesday 4/28</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_xJOIaZ873seBVoh4P7mRlWJmgxvAftcux8zEGJcZH9l3IjKh6Q1FJH-W2gO8PRlH8qjsudaKUiyOnHAy7XMZQtVVw3gGZrUC42HQOP9TPuxCx6LD4VP8u8gB0qVqRUdqKJPWtSaxET4c/s1600/Haiti+2010+060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_xJOIaZ873seBVoh4P7mRlWJmgxvAftcux8zEGJcZH9l3IjKh6Q1FJH-W2gO8PRlH8qjsudaKUiyOnHAy7XMZQtVVw3gGZrUC42HQOP9TPuxCx6LD4VP8u8gB0qVqRUdqKJPWtSaxET4c/s200/Haiti+2010+060.JPG" tt="true" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Even as I sit here and write, I am sitting in the midst of 30+ beautiful Haitian children who are learning a Bible verse, "For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him, shall not perish but have eternal life." It's a beautiful sound. I've been hugging and kissing these precious kids all day. Today Adam and Mark (our team leader) talked to the community leaders about our organization buying chickens for them. When we do, they will be provided with fresh eggs regularily and they will reproduce, giving them a financial and substancial source. We won't be here to see them delivered, because the process will take a few weeks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"> Today I visited a very special young man. His name is Evansbord, we nicknamed him Invincible. His family of seven lives in a tent of probably 15x15. Evansbord had a seizure when he was 2 months old that left him nearly braindead and paralyzed. At 15 years old, he makes a few noises, his eyes jet around side to side, he has little use of his limbs. We call this young man Invincible, because when hundreds of thousands of people lost their lives in the earthquake, "Invincible" survived more than 24 hours under an enormous pile of rubble. His mother found him with only a broken hand and a few bruises. Even so, meeting Evansbord broke my heart. Until today, I've never really seen skin and bones. His shin was about the size around of a silver dollar, maybe a quarter. He layed curled up on a blanket on the ground, and this is how he lives. My heart was moved for Evansbord, and also for his mother who suffers with Malaria, is criticized by her community for continuing to care for her invalid son, and who is the sole provider for her 6 children and her orphaned and sick nephew. Yes, my heart was moved to say the least.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">This journal entry was recorded on Wednesday. Please see my blog entitled "Miracle" for more on Evansbord.</span>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-19878689287622838942010-05-04T17:17:00.000-07:002011-08-29T11:45:24.809-07:00Glimmer in the Rubble<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4iMnE1xjF4AAqEI0U0j9rce9CzZ5DBD26KjIOh6DfTefX_-l1iEVi2UJuxtM8cuXyt0yrMKXqZL99ppfaE8z_R5hN1VLve6XK5Zo039aZ03Mtewm6ZE9_JqSYedDy7fxuYzyltDb3ZWe4/s1600/Haiti+2010+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4iMnE1xjF4AAqEI0U0j9rce9CzZ5DBD26KjIOh6DfTefX_-l1iEVi2UJuxtM8cuXyt0yrMKXqZL99ppfaE8z_R5hN1VLve6XK5Zo039aZ03Mtewm6ZE9_JqSYedDy7fxuYzyltDb3ZWe4/s200/Haiti+2010+005.JPG" tt="true" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tonight on the way home from ministry in the tent city, we were surrounded by gems of hope - fresh construction in Port-Au-Prince. Originally I was so distracted by the mass amount ot destruction that the totallity of the project seemed extremely overwhelming, even impossible. Even so, tonight our eyes were opened to the physical progress that the Haitians are making. On the way back to our base, we passed trucks full of wood beams, pipes, and rock. We saw men on the side of the streets shoveling rubble and clearing sidewalks. Our team observed more men rebuilding roofs and crushing rocks by hand to make cement. Our eyes were opened to some things we hadn't seen before, beyond the trauma, there is a resiliance in the Haitian people that will help them see their land restored.</span>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-51253465738339869232010-05-04T11:20:00.000-07:002011-08-29T11:46:48.423-07:00A Deal With the Devil<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We were told a story today that changed my whole perspective on the earthquake. Once upon a time, Haiti was owned by France. Much of Haiti was enslaved by France and greatly desired their freedom, which the French would have no part of. The Haitian government made a treaty with Satan, that if he would help them gain independence, he could have control of Haiti for 200 years. Haiti gained their freedom and enslaved their souls. Their national religion became voodoo. Most Haitians believe that 2009 marked the end of the contract Haiti had made with the devil. As the dark age came to the end, Pastor's and Missionaries all over Haiti came together praying that God would "Shake whatever is shakeable". And God did that. What we see in the physical is God having mercy on His children, shaking off this curse and giving His children new life. From every report we have heard, the church of Jesus Christ is exploding in this country.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Acts 2:47 "And each day the Lord added to their group those who were being saved."</strong></span>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-27804269879010560292010-05-04T09:49:00.000-07:002011-08-29T11:45:54.974-07:00First Impressions<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> As we flew into Haiti, the destruction was immediatly evident. As soon as I could see land, I could see hundreds of tents. Some formal looking, donated by the US or other countries; many made of sheets of metal, tarps, and bed sheets. In many places, streets and walkways were unrecognizable because of the immense amout of debri.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We got off of the plane into the muggy Carribean climate. At 7:30am, it was already 85 degrees. Stepping off the airplane we were greeted by the sound of a local Haitian band playing for tips. It was pleasant and several of the airport personel were singing along quietly. As we traveled through the airport, I became immediately aware of the presence of military, many different countries were represented. I felt proud to see Us military men and women, a part of a worldwide effort.</span><br />
<div style="border: currentColor;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> We were met outside the airport by one of our trip leaders, Marcio. He apologized for running late, sharing with us that he had been stopped by the Haitian police. They tried to take him to jail for not having a certain permit, but he refused to go stating that that the government is crooked and trying to get his money.</span></div><div style="border: currentColor;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> As we rode through the streets of Port-Au-Prince, the poverty was overwhelming. It was unreal to see the effects of an earthquake that lasted only 45 seconds. There were buildings that were missing a balcony or pillars on the outside. Buildings that were cracked down the middle and half or more of the building was missing-an unlivable mess. Sometimes, we saw only a plot of gravel, the ghost of someone's home or business. We passed through and area of town where many donated clothes from all over the world were put in massive piles on the ground. For an entire city block or more, this scene went on. Men, women, and children rumaged through the generous donations.</span></div><span style="font-family: Verdana;"> When we finally arrived at our base, I could ponder - this whole earthquake thing was worse than I thought.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvbYmUdGqbl_nMsjTXiypdb2RMDVBySS5ifChio5d8CVZ85eIfGKtEW4Xd_vTQmRBM1nMiWkUgXoGWMcawR4qCGAxNEchc85KTaPPqV4zJuiCA9RudJzSnsA8ECKnogCkSD4Tty-NDYCy/s1600/Haiti+2010+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvbYmUdGqbl_nMsjTXiypdb2RMDVBySS5ifChio5d8CVZ85eIfGKtEW4Xd_vTQmRBM1nMiWkUgXoGWMcawR4qCGAxNEchc85KTaPPqV4zJuiCA9RudJzSnsA8ECKnogCkSD4Tty-NDYCy/s400/Haiti+2010+009.JPG" tt="true" width="400" /></a></div>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-76089370348555301652010-05-04T08:51:00.000-07:002010-05-07T11:38:08.924-07:00Haiti<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Over the next few blogs,</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm going to write about my time in Haiti. I wrote in my journal there, but some of my days are a little out of order. Please keep this in mind as you experience this trip with me.</span>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-82645411818920925602010-04-24T08:14:00.000-07:002010-06-20T20:59:17.860-07:00Goal Achieved.<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm sitting on my couch,</span> enjoying coffee </span><span style="font-size: small;">and TV as if it's a normal Saturday morning. I'm leaving for Haiti in about an hour and a half, but you wouldn't be able to tell it by my morning regimen. When Adam and I got married, we had certain goals in mind that we wanted to acheive before we had children and going on another international mission trip was at the top of my list. As time went on, I left that goal behind, not seeing the possibility of it happening in my current life. Today, I am seeing that goal achieved. Thank you, Lord for seeing the desires of my heart!</span>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-47051852365011114372010-04-08T15:56:00.000-07:002010-04-19T12:29:57.655-07:002 Weeks and 3 Days<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457909554168217634" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih58lZgGX32qmoSxfrzKtYOzvN5gLGRx2n4kL7mOMz5seaHykm9f-i5PFGhHrJWn7fh7Q1HoMV0t4SyvnYF0WuWc6QRFBu6prmVv9Piyy2Jq2pt40ZD35XremqPzMTjWRnnBJ71ulXPdJO/s320/Haiti1.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 256px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I'm going to Haiti in 2 weeks and I'm not prepared. Adam and I decided to go about 6 weeks ago. We didn't have the money and we knew it. We sent out letters to friends and family asking us to help us go on this trip. Not surprisingly, God has provided for us. I should trust Him more. I was pretty stressed, but He provided everything we needed. Actually, we were preparing for Haiti and we found out that our taxes were going to be like $1500 and I got very stressed. I knew we couldn't do it all, there was no back up plan but God's faithfulness. In the end, God has provided for all of it! We will step into May debt free! I'm so thankful for a God who directs my path. He is certaintly loving and kind. It's not the financial side I'm concerned about. Emotionally, I'm not sure I'm fully prepared. Everytime I see photos or read articles, I weep. What if I go to Haiti and cry for 7 days straight?! I don't know if I will be taken seriously, but maybe I will be taken more seriously. We will see. I've been looking at the daily photos from </span><a href="http://voicesofhaiti.com/photos"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">picturesofhaiti.com/photos</span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">. The pictures give me an idea of what I will encounter, and of who I will encounter. God give me hope, so I can deliver it to your people.</span>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-38012694325317828602010-01-12T11:46:00.000-08:002010-05-07T11:38:55.976-07:00Faith<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">There is a cliff I sit on as I look into the blue ocean.<br />
I lean into the boulder and watch the ocean go on forever.<br />
The great Pacific always becomes the sky.<br />
I can no longer tell the vastness of the bold and deep ocean from the weightless open sky.<br />
<br />
I find strength in the repetition of the waves.<br />
They are timeless; crashing on the same rocks daily, hourly, momentuously.<br />
Only changing with the tide and wind, but returning none the less, tomorrow.<br />
<br />
There is no sound that roars in my ears like the furious waves - <br />
beating their brothers <br />
for a chance to reach the shore.<br />
The wind whips the water,<br />
becoming friend or foe of the chaotic torrent.<br />
<br />
The salty aroma draws me out.<br />
I close my eyes and become a fisherman lost at sea,<br />
engulfed in my senses...in love with this adventure.<br />
<br />
Sometimes...<br />
I come to the cliff at night.<br />
When my world has drifted into darkness,<br />
and I cannot see so clearly.<br />
I hear the pounding of the waves<br />
I smell the damp ocean air<br />
I feel the wind whip through my hair;<br />
and sense the effects on the waves below.<br />
<br />
But I do not see the deep blue sea.<br />
I can no longer make out the breadth of the majestic ocean in front of me,<br />
I only trust that it is still there.<br />
I have seen it before.<br />
My senses tell me that this time <br />
seeing is not believing.</span>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8715402077512453722.post-52323287091221633012009-12-28T21:00:00.000-08:002010-06-20T21:02:13.428-07:00Tidal Wave<div><span style="color: #330033;">"I feel like 2010 is coming at me like a Tidal Wave. I don't know what it holds, but I'm not sure I'm fully prepared. Surf or drown, I guess."</span></div>Amanda Blisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13101739892678314394noreply@blogger.com0